#and they ALL whipped out SO much food & made me eat. so i had a nutrigrain bar with the boba i got from the place we ordered from for lunch

[mrsmarlasinger]

Falling asleep with hypoglycemia and waking up an hour later with Hypoglycemia But Worse because you didn't eat to fix it feels like waking up on the peak of a too-strong edible you took right before bed

[bee-wg]

Year 1:

“I’m telling you, man. You just need to drink the protein shakes Dad and I have. Don’t worry about the taste, they’re banana chocolate flavoured. It’s actually quite delicious when you get used to the texture. Then you’ll just need to go to the gyms a few times a week to get these bad boys.” I said, flexing my 16-inch arms.

“Oh, and I can make protein pancakes!  Maybe I can add it to other pastries too. It’ll be healthy, useful and delicious. I bet your mom could never have thought of that.” He said smugly.

“Dude, focus. Why does everything have to be cooking with you?” 

“Sorry, I got too excited there. It’s just that I haven’t made breakfast you guys liked, it’s completely her territory. For now. Maybe If I make this, you guys will eat it.”

”You know we’ll have to finish whatever you both end up cooking anyway, right?”

“Yeah, that doesn’t count. I want you to eat it because you like it.” The man said, just when I thought he was sane.

”Well that’s irrelevant. Don’t you think it’s a great idea?” He asked.

Even though he’s a maniac, I have to admit.

“I guess it’s not bad, I don’t have to drink and eat at the same time. Just don’t make too much, you get easily full with those things.”

“Don’t worry about it man. Don’t you have morning football practice to burn off the calories?”

“Alright, just don’t put raisins in there. I heard somewhere that they make you dehydrated.”

I shoo him out of the door and start undressing. Contemplating on a compression shirt or an oversized Tee, my head starts running. I am objectively muscular, but compared to the guys at the gym, I’m nothing. I don’t think I’m big enough yet. Oversized Tee it is then. 

Grabbing my duffle, I ran downstairs. Then, the scent of banana chocolate sweets blasted my face. 

“Morning Jay, come try it out. This is really good.” Dad called out with his mouth half full.

I picked up the buttered pancake. It smells nice, with some cherry scent in there too.

“Dang, this is not bad, Pumpkin,” I shouted to him in the kitchen.

“Right? And with more space in the stomach for drinks, you can try Chloe’s fruit smoothie.” Dad said.

“Don’t worry sweetie, the fruits are from the farmers market so it’s healthy.” Mom yelled from the kitchen.

Looking back at the breakfast, it’s a bit more bulky than usual, but I’m gonna work it off in the morning drill anyway.

Without more hesitation, I dug into the full plate of pancakes and blueberry whipped cream.

“Sweetie, you’re already done? I have more in the back.” Mom said

“She really stepped up her game, right?” Dad chimed in.

“It was awesome mom. Thank you, and help me thank Theo too. But I really need to go now. The practice starts in 30.”

“Alright sweetie, stay safe and don’t be late. I’ll have David finish off the rest.”

“Wait, me? But there’s so much!” Dad whined.

“Love you Mom, love you dad, gotta go.”

I rushed out of the house with the faint sound of their replies.

I felt bad for Dad, since school started, I’ve been leaving the leftovers to him because of school. More often than not, Theo and Mom would overcook and we would be left with more food than we know how to deal with. So Dad would take his usual time for morning runs to finish it before going to work. I need to make it up to him somehow. I guess I could offload his burden by eating more on the weekends.

The practice went as well as it could with my stomach full of pancakes; although Coach thought I had a lot of potential with all the fumbles. Probably because Dad was a star quarterback here back in his days.

“You just need to get used to the team dynamic here, then it will all be fine, Jacob. Don’t sweat it,” Coach said.

It was easier said than done. Someone literally asked me how long my dick was, then groped my pec. At least in high school, people had the decency of being embarrassed.

Maybe I do need to chill off. Go to the club like they said. I do have the biggest pecs out of everyone after all. And I heard people like big glutes, so maybe someone would want me.

It took me a month to search up a club. I was not stalling. Then, another month to put the address into Google Maps. I was busy. Homework has been rough, the professor hates me and Theo needs me to restock. Nonetheless, I finally have time now.

Yay.

Putting on Dad’s old Beige Polo, I look pretty good. The shirt hugs my muscles too much for comfort, but it’s the one day of the month I’m supposed to look like a slut. The light is going to be dimmed anyway.

Fishing for the keys, my hand found some candied fruit on the stand. The guy even knows how to make candies from leftover fruits, who even does that? I grabbed some to put it in my mouth. 

On my way out I caught a glimpse of my father in the kitchen. He’s been starting to brew homemade beers with steady progress.

“Oh, Jay! You’re going out? You got a date, yeah?”

He turned back, revealing the newly grown beer belly.

“What?! Of course not. It’s the shirt right? I look like a try hard.”

”Haha, be careful whose shirt you’re insulting. That was my lucky shirt.” 

He misunderstood, I just thought I would look half as in place as he looks if I wear this. I really shouldn’t go. 

”You’ll be alright son, you’re a charming young man. People will see that.”

My eardrums are fucking gushing blood.

The Club sound rattled through my bones as random guy number six and random chick number four came.

Dad was right. I was quite charming, TOO charming, even.

“Oh my gosh look at those arms,” running her hand, Random chick number four said.

“He probably has killer abs too. Wanna come home with me tonight, Jock boy?” Random guy number six said.

“Sorry man, I’m straight. I also have a friend waiting for me in the car.” I replied.

“Aww man, too bad. I wanted a dumb jock to rail me tonight.” He said while walking off. Seriously, what is up with people these days?

At least I still have my 16 dollar margarita with me in the corner.

Lost in my head, a potential random guy number seven approaches.

“Hey, what’s a hot guy like you doing in the corner?” Number seven asked.

“Sorry, I’m straight.”

“Ahh, my bad. Worth a shot,” He said.

“Man, why is every Dad bod fuck boys straight? Gay people are too obsessed with their bodies to have the look,” he added.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I have a thing for guys who look like you. Not really a jock anymore, but still attracts everyone.”

My 16 dollar margarita was spilt.

“Oh, Shit. Sorry I don’t know what to do.” I’m glad to not have a friend in my car waiting to see me embarrass myself.

“Don’t worry man, I’ll handle it.” Number seven said.

I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not like I have a Dad bod, is a fuck boy, or even gay. But the guy he described is the kind of masculine, wild man I aspire to be. Not a shit given to what people think. Maybe I can be that guy tonight. 

“Sorry I’m not the Dad bod fuck boy you thought I was.” 

I already butchered it. Why the hell did I say that? That’s not what a guy without a care in the world would say.

“What if you are.” He reached under my polo and grabbed my abs. Or softer abs, cause he’s clearly grabbing something.

“But I’ve never done this before,” Holy shit, I need to shut the fuck up.

“No worries, you just need to sit back and enjoy.”

I look back at the rotting toilet. Maybe not sit.

“We’re gonna make this quick, alright?” He said. Then gave my stomach a quick squeeze. 

I’m telling Mom and Theo to cut back on the food tonight.

He slid down the zipper and tugged on my dick.

“You’re not who I imagined to be, but I like pathetic boys like you too.” He said.

“Wait, what? I - fuuuck.”

He uses his thumb to twirl around my cock head; then the freak proceeds to lick my stomach pudge.

“Fuuuuuuck,” I involuntarily groaned. 

“Hahaha, seems like it would be quicker than I thought.”

He laughed. Fucking laughed at me. And my dick is harder than ever before.

Then, out of nowhere. He grabbed my ass and sucked half of my length in.

“Holy sh-“ I yelped 

He covered his left hand on my mouth and said hushly. “Jesus, fuck boy! Do you want everyone to hear? I mean it’s hot, but we’ll get kicked out.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just ohhhhhh.”

He sucked the entire length in as I got into his throat. It’s cold for a second with the air being sucked, then it warms up my dick as I get closer to the edge.  And, wait, did I just moan out loud?

Didn’t give me a chance to breathe, he repeated the motion again and again.

I’m really close.

“Not yet fuck boy.” He said as he guided my hand to my pec.

“What is it?” I asked. 

“Twist your nipples and do not stop until we’re done.” 

Strange request, but it seemed like there was a lot I didn’t know, so I complied.

“I thought only women like this?” I asked as I squeezed my nipples.

He immediately got back to work as if telling me to shut the fuck up.

Then, I feel it. 

It might be the cold air conditioning or the fact that I have my cock in someone’s fucking mouth, but my nipples perked up and got sensitive all of a sudden. 

He starts to squeeze and rub my stomach as my senses overload.

Once in a while, he would come up with a remark or two.

“I bet you’re the kind of guy that likes to sit around, munch all day, let other people take charge and fuck you,” He said.

”I bet your bubble butt will grow twice as big by the end of the year because you hate the gym deep down,” He said.

It all doesn’t make sense. I only have five, ten tops of weight added, but my dick gets even harder.

“Come on, fuck boy. Twist those fat tits for me,” he said as the sucking picks up the pace.

“Fuck yeah, my fat tits.” It’s all too much for me to form a thought.

“Fuck my fat ass too.”

“Yeah, faster!”

He gave my slight belly a final squeeze as I cummed harder than I’d ever experienced.

I can feel my dick still shooting out cum as I blacked out.

Someone is wiping me.

Oh, right.

“Great, you’re up.” Random man said.

”Huh?”

“It got real messy, eh?” He continues.

“Sorry, I got carried away earlier. You’re just so hot.”

It seems like he’s not going to stop talking.

“You’re obviously still a jock, but hey. A man can dream,” he said

“You’ve got some real potential, kid.” He patted my apparently now-existing belly and said.

I don’t get it. I’ve been eating more than usual lately, and Theo’s snacks don't help, but mom got the ingredients from the farmers market, so they were definitely healthy. Maybe I am missing something else.

“Here,” he hands me a small piece of paper.

“Call me if you want to do this again.”

Then just like that, the strange man leaves.

I didn’t give a second glance at the piece of paper before throwing it in the trash can.

Against my better judgment, I put my hand back in the disgusting trash can.

No harm in keeping it.

The stranger’s words ring in my head as I put an undisclosed sum of money on margaritas.

Maybe I do like being taken care of.

***

My phone vibrated for the thousandth time today, almost causing an earthquake. 

“Aggggah, leave me aloneeee. Help me baby Jesus.”

The alcohol from last night, plus the vibration is enough to kill a bear.

Opening the over-lit phone, I see Theo’s happy ginger face.

Theo: Hey Jay, could you help me buy a cookbook I want at the mall, asap? 

Me: kys❤️

Mom: Jacob, could you explain the language? 

Shit, it's the family chat! 

Me: It means keeping yourself safe, mom. I'll go to the mall in a bit!

Theo, the little bastard, replied with a laughing emoji.

Brushing my teeth, I saw myself in the mirror. 

Definitely can’t unsee it now. I still have some abs definitions, it’s just pushing out now.

I hesitated, looking at the protein ice cream sandwich mom prepared for me. 

Well, I do need something to settle my stomach from the alcohol. Plus, protein is always healthy.

Grabbing a few more ice cream sandwiches, I made my way to the bus.

The mall is located in the middle of nowhere. Nobody comes here except for Costco. Apparently there’s a chain book store too.

Finding the book has been proven difficult. Half the store sells stationery, and the other half sells boring books nobody wants. There is no reason for the store to be this huge.

By the time Theo, the brat, had confirmed the book, it was already past two. 

“Hello, excuse me. Is there no restaurant here whatsoever?” I asked the book nerd from the counter.

“Ahhhhh, there’s ahh fast food down the lane, to um, the right?”

“Alright, thanks.” Looks like I’m going to starve myself until I get back.

Going to the bus station, I pass the fast food place. They must have had a rebranding these couple of years. They used to smell like kids puke. Now… it smells like some sweet apple pie, fries, or chicken nuggets? Yeah, definitely some chicken nuggets. Haven’t had them in years. 

No. I must not get carried away.

Dad said fast foods are not real food. Ever since he watched the Super Size Me documentary, he banned the whole family from eating fast food, and I thank him for it every day. 

Today will be an exception. This will be my reward for going through everything that happened this week.

“So, we have a discount for everyone who uses our app. You can also get points for a free meal in the app.” The fat ass cashier asked.

“Yeah, why not. I could save a few.” Not like I’m going to use it after this.

My hands end up with a combo of fries, burger, nuggets and a medium soda.

While enjoying the smell of garbage goods, I catch a glimpse of an obese guy sitting in the corner. 

He looks. Wait, it’s Avery Lancaster.

Holy shit it’s true. He did gain 70 pounds and some more. Looks like he’s in his 300s now.

The image of his fat ass hanging off the seat brought me back to reality.

I will not eat at this restaurant ever again after this meal, so I won’t end up like him. 

Except for the fries. The fries are too good to pass.

For The rest of the semester, things went as well as they could.

Homework has been piling up, the professor still hates me, so I have less time to hit the gym.

Sports are enough for me so stay fit anyway.  At least until next year’s spring season starts. 

Coach has been supportive of my decision to bulk up. He just gave me an ominous warning about off-season athletes bulking too much.

When the Thanksgiving holiday came, I was ready to go on a diet. 

After the holidays.

Because mom has seriously improved her skills, and, as much as I don’t wanna say it, Theo’s food is basically tailored made to my taste. They might just be.

I have a sneaking suspicion that they are using Dad and I as testing metrics for their little competitions. Just a suspicion. Because recently Theo started focusing on making food for me, Mom began to make food primarily for Dad.

The suspicious duo seem to have the belief that weight equals love. If that is the case, I am truly screwed. There is no one but dead people who can resist Theo’s cooking. I’ve even been brainwashed to think Theo’s food rants are interesting, that’s how powerful he is.

By the end of the Christmas dinner, I could tell that Theo had probably lost in their competition by the look on his face. I almost felt bad for not eating enough. 

It's not like the food wasn’t good; my opponent is Dad. His appetite is unmatched. At the beginning of the year, he barely eats anything for breakfast while keeping his plant-based diet. Now he’s an absolute beast, he can inhale 15 pancakes at the speed of sound. Whatever I’ve gained this year, Dad probably has gained twice as much.  He also grew out his beard and body hair which I struggle to do. There is literally no better definition of man than him.

After the Christmas dinner, I went up to assess the damage. 

Twenty-two pounds of flabby fat gained this year.

Why don’t I at least look like Dad with a firm, rounded gut? Instead, mine grows around the underbelly, looking like a soft fanny pack.

I need to stop thinking about this. I’m still muscular after all. 215 is nothing compared to the guys on the team.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I have a thing for guys who look like you. Not really a jock anymore, but still attracts everyone.” His voice echoed in my head.

Deleting the notifications from the fast food app, I opened the phone and dialled the number for Random Guy number 7.

Chapter 2 ->

[stevie-petey]

episode six: the dive

“You do realize Skull Rock is a super popular make out spot? It wasn’t popular until I made it popular, alright? I practically invented it.” The words slip from Steve’s mouth before he can really understand the consequences behind them. He stops dead in his tracks and stares at you, eyes wide in fear. “Nice one, Steve.” You pat his chest sarcastically, sharing a disgusted look with Dustin.

Summary: dustin rejects the pity pringles you offer, eddie is straight up not having a good time, nancy does some investigative journalism about you and steve (gossips with robin), and steve suddenly decides he wants to take up scuba diving. for some reason. but hey ! title drop time !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, cursing, mentions of death and violence

Words: 7.4k

Before you swing in: HI !!!! HAPPY ONE YEAR OF COME HOME !!! weve reached the scene everyone has so patiently waited for ;) can yall believe it took a full year before we finally reached the fated title drop ??? i can ! anyways, pls enjoy. i love this chapter and you guys so so so much :')))

–

“Want some?” 

Dustin smacks the pringle that Steve dangles away from his face. “Get that away from me.”

“But you love Pringles,” your hand waves in front of his face, holding yet another chip. You’re sitting in Nancy’s trunk with Steve, eating leftover pringles from the supply run from this morning for Eddie. Dustin sits in the middle, squished between Max and Lucas. “Here, take one as a peace offering.”

“I’d rather be stuck between Lucas and Max than you and Steve, Y/N.” Dustin huffs, though he does eventually take the chip that you offer him.

Steve chews another chip. “Totally harsh, dude.”

The car turns and you’re suddenly pressed against your boyfriend, knee bending at an uncomfortable angle. “Cozy car, Nance.” You quip, repositioning yourself so your ribcage is no longer in your lungs. 

“Sorry, guys.” She glances back at you. “I know this isn’t ideal, but Eddie is almost definitely low on food and he’ll want to hear what we found.”

“Not to be a wimp, but can I sit in the car for this visit?” Robin asks from the passenger seat. “‘Cause this is gonna totally and royally suck.”

You toss a chip into your mouth. “I agree. Especially after his weird broadcast yesterday.”

Dustin whips his head to look at you. “Eddie contacted Cerebro?”

“Did I not tell you?” 

“No!” 

“Shit, sorry.” Yesterday was a blur. After the lights exploded in Victor Creel’s attic, you’d all driven silently back to Nancy’s. Hardly anyone spoke afterwards. You all had gone to bed quiet, reeling from the implications of what you’d found. “It was weird. I couldn’t really understand him, the signal was weak.”

Dustin gestures wildly at you. “Okay, but what did he say?”

“Something about Jason? And holes in a boat?” You’d been recovering from your panic attack when Eddie’s voice came through the radio. The details were fuzzy. 

“A boat? Why the hell would Eddie need a boat?”

You shrug. “No clue, but I feel bad for the guy.”

The entire situation is grim. Eddie has been accused of murdering at least two Hawkins students, he apparently runs a cult, and now the only way of clearing his name involves El and the Upside Down. Both of which are currently out of reach. 

While you can barely tolerate the guy, it’s a shame that he doesn’t stand a chance.

“It’ll be fine.” Nancy insists, but Robin shakes her head. 

“I can’t stand to see those doe eyes of Eddie’s break again. I really, really can’t.”

“‘Doe eyes’ is a little much.” You scrunch your nose in displeasure. Steve snorts and Dustin glares at you. “Just saying.”

“At least he can drink himself into feeling better.” Steve offers, picking up the six-pack of beer and waving it around.

Max looks out the window. “That’s what my mom does.”

Lucas catches your eye. No one catches what Max has said besides you two. He looks upset, but you shake your head at him. Now isn’t the time. If he says anything to her, Max will close back in on herself. 

Robin and Nancy return to their conversation while you sit quietly in the back. Steve notices your change in demeanor and frowns. Unsure what’s caused it, he holds up a pringle and winks at you. “Bet you can’t catch this with your mouth.”

It’s a welcomed distraction. You sit up, eyes alight. “You’re on, Harrington.”

And the game is on. Steve tosses a chip into the air and you duck your head, angling your mouth so that you catch it just before it lands. Eyes wide, you throw your arms in the air and cheer. “I did it!”

Steve claps, whooping. “That’s my girl!”

Reaching for the bag of pringles, you grab one and don’t even give Steve a warning before you’re throwing it at him. He yelps, surprised, but with ease he catches it. He cheers again and chews triumphantly. “And you tried to cheat!” 

You roll your eyes. “Technically it wasn’t cheating, I just didn’t warn you.”

Steve pokes you side, eliciting a giggle from you. “I’ll get you for that, Henderson.”

“I’d like to see you try–” The sight of a police car stops you. 

Nancy sees it, too. “Oh, shit.”

You’re just outside of the boathouse Eddie is hiding out in. There are cars everywhere, cops walking along the perimeter, controlling a crowd that has formed. A news station van blocks your vision, but you get a sickening sense of deja-vu anyways. 

This is exactly how it’d been when Fred’s body was found.

Nancy ushers everyone to the side of the van, ducking down so you aren’t seen. Officer Powell is giving a speech to the press. He stands before the frightened audience, voice stern, but also tired. You can’t imagine what it must be like, being chief of police without having any idea of the horrors that Hawkins hides. 

“The Roane County line received a call a little after midnight, reporting a homicide here on the lake.”

Everyone freezes. Another body has been found. 

“That’s three deaths in three days.” You can’t breathe. This is all happening too fast. Faster than anything you’ve ever had to deal with before.

Chief Powell continues. “It was here that we found the body of the victim, an eighteen year old senior from Hawkins High, Patrick McKinney.”

Lucas stiffens next to you. Patrick had been his teammate. His friend. Numb, you rub his back, offering whatever ounce of comfort you can give him. 

“We have also identified a person of interest.” The chief holds up a photo of Eddie, showing it to the broadcasters before him. “Eddie Munson.”

You suck in a breath. The only thing Eddie had going for him was that no one knew he was the main person of interest. His identity had still been concealed, buying him a little more time while you tried to find answers for him. 

But now it’s too late. 

“This is not good,” Steve mumbles as officer Powell encourages the town to come forward with any information they may have about Eddie. “This is really not good.”

“He’s fucked.” You whisper. The crowd standing before Powell is large. Nearly half the town leans into his every word. They’re angry. All of them. Another one of their own has been taken. Another child. 

And they’d do anything to save Hawkins’ children.

The manhunt has begun. 

“Dustin, can you hear me? Hendersons?” Eddie’s voice cackles through the walkie.

Everyone scurries around your brother while he fumbles with his bag, anxious to respond. When he finally finds his walkie, he breathes out a sigh of relief. “Eddie. Holy shit. Are you okay?”

“Nah, man.” He sounds exhausted, seconds away from completely breaking down. Something within your chest tightens. No one deserves this. “I’m pretty goddamn far from okay.”

Robin prods Dustin to ask where Eddie is. No one wants him to be alone right now. Not when he’s become Hawkins’ most wanted.

“I’m at Skull Rock. Do you know it?”

Dustin nods eagerly. “Uh, yeah. That’s near Cornwallis and–”

“Garrett, yeah.” Steve is already running towards Nancy’s car. “I know where that is.”

You grab Dustin’s shirt. “Tell Eddie we’ll be there soon, alright?”

“Yeah-yeah I will.” The urgence in your voice scares him a little. He knows you’d do whatever to protect someone, but he never thought you’d extend this protectiveness to Eddie. Bringing the walkie to his lips, Dustin delivers your message. “Hold tight. We’re coming.”

The walkie clicks off. 

All you can do is hope that you make it to Skull Rock in time. 

– 

The last time you trekked through Hawkins woods, you had to endure Steve and Dustin constantly arguing as you all threw down chunks of meat onto the train tracks.

Now, over a year later, they’re still arguing.

At least this time there isn’t the stench of raw meat.

“I’m telling you, we’re going the wrong way.” Dustin nags Steve, holding his compass in one hand and a map of Hawkins in the other. “Skull Rock is in the other direction. You’re totally wrong.”

Steve shoves him, causing the teen to trip over a tree root. “What’s up with you always thinking I’m wrong these days?”

“Because you’re always wrong.”

You flick the brim of Dustin’s hat. “Steve has had a few good ideas from time to time. He’s taking us the right way.”

“No, he’s not. It’s north.” Dustin points behind him. Steve rolls his eyes in disbelief. “I’m positive. I checked the map.”

“You do realize Skull Rock is a super popular make out spot? It wasn’t popular until I made it popular, alright? I practically invented it.” The words slip from Steve’s mouth before he can really understand the consequences behind them. He stops dead in his tracks and stares at you, eyes wide in fear.

“Nice one, Steve.” You pat his chest sarcastically, sharing a disgusted look with Dustin.

“Okay, I didn’t mean it like that.” Steve trips over his words, nearly falling flat on his face as he struggles to keep up with you. “I mean, I did kiss a lot of girls there, but-but that was before I enjoyed kissing you!”

Your brother gags. “Real catch there, Y/N.”

“I’m ignoring you both,” you tell the boys, continuing down the path Steve pointed out earlier. The gaps in the trees start to become familiar. The rugged terrain smoothes over from excessive use, creating an unmarked trail that you’ve walked before. “More importantly, I think we’re getting close to Skull Rock.”

“See? I told you, little Henderson–” Steve starts to cheer, happy to be right. Then the joy on his face quickly dissipates. He’s realized something. “Wait, how… how do you know where Skull Rock is, Y/N?”

A twig snaps beneath your shoe. “Used to go there all the time with Jonathan.”

“What?” Steve and Dustin balk at you, nearly toppling over the other in shock.

Quickly you realize the horrific implications of your words. “Jesus, not like that! We would only go there to read together and listen to music!”

It was your way of escaping life together. Just the two of you, early mornings before the rest of Hawkins woke up. The dew would still be on the grass. Everything was easier, then.

You miss those days more than anything. 

Dustin’s suspicious eyes linger on you, though he seems content enough with your explanation. Steve, however, still looks uncertain and utterly mortified. His distrust makes you sigh in annoyance. 

“I have never once kissed Jonathan.”

“Right!” Steve snaps back to himself, coughing and wiping his hands on his pants. “Yeah. Totally already knew that. For sure.”

Dustin hits his shoulder. “Dude. Learn when to shut up.”

“Working on it.” Steve mumbles bitterly, trying to catch your eye, but you ignore him. 

Behind you, Nancy and Robin walk silently together. They’d been the odd ones out in the group. You had paired off with Dustin and Steve to try and quell their arguing while Max and Lucas wandered off alone.

Neither girl speaks. There’s not a lot to say between them. When you come across a fallen log, they watch silently as Steve extends his arm to you, helping you jump over it. His grip is delicate on your arm, though firm enough to guide you. After you’ve jumped, his eyes instinctively go to your ankle, the same one you sprained years ago, to make sure you aren’t limping.

It’s a subtle, easy to overlook action. But Nancy and Robin see it, and they both understand how painstakingly sincere it is. Your ankle never quite healed right. Some days it bothers you, particularly after walking long distances or jumping too much on it. 

And Steve knows your body well enough to understand this. 

“Ugh,” Robin’s scoff breaks the silence, happy to voice what she knows Nancy is thinking. “They’re so adorable. I just wanna squeeze ‘em, ya know?”

Nancy smiles at her, although it’s strained. “Steve is very… sweet. With Y/N.”

“‘Sweet’? More like tooth-rotting, Nance.”

And Robin’s right. The way Steve is around you, there almost isn’t a word for it. Nancy has never really seen the two of you together. By the time Steve finally asked you out, it’d been only a week before Joyce told Jonathan they were moving.

Steve had stepped back after that. He allowed you and Nancy to spend as much time as physically possible with Jonathan before he moved. He recognized the strained history between him and Jonathan; he hadn’t wanted to spoil the little time you had left together. 

When summer ended and senior year began, Steve had already graduated and Nancy had thrown herself into the school paper by then.

Now, after spending the last few days around you and Steve nonstop, Nancy can’t help but notice all the nuanced ways the two of you are together. She’s picked up the small cues between you, the quirks in your relationship. And she feels a strange sense of curiosity about it.

“Steve and Y/N,” Nancy pauses, unsure how to phrase her question. She doesn’t want to sound intrusive or rude. “How, um. Serious are they?”

Robin is slightly surprised by her question, but the flush of Nancy’s cheeks tells her that it’d been hard for her to even ask it. “Oh, they’re very serious. Like starting a life together serious.”

“A life together?” Nancy doesn’t believe it. She doesn’t understand how the two of you could already be at the point in your relationship. You’ve been together less than a year. 

A lot less longer than Nancy has been with Jonathan. 

“Yeah, Steve has this crazy idea of following Y/N to NYU.” Robin almost doesn’t think she should be telling her this, but Nancy seems to be hurting and she feels bad for her. Nancy wouldn’t be asking about this if there wasn’t a reason to. “His heart is like, totally set on it. It’s crazy and all, but it’s sweet in his own Steve-ish way.”

“It is sweet.” Nancy affirms, a far off look in her eyes. The same far off look in her eyes from the other day in the library. Robin had asked about Jonathan and suddenly Nancy’s entire demeanor shifted. 

Robin clears her throat. “I’m guessing you and Jonathan haven’t figured out the whole life thing yet?”

“That isn’t any of your business.” Nancy responds coldly.

“Well, you did start this entire conversation asking about Steve and Y/N’s relationship.” Robin points out, though not unkindly. “All I’m saying is that someone in a happy relationship wouldn’t ask about another person’s relationship and look totally depressed while doing so.”

Nancy shakes her head incredulously. “Jonathan and I are fine.” 

“Okay.” Robin says, but it’s obvious to them both that she doesn’t believe her. 

“We’re good.” Nancy tries again, but not even she believes her own words. Defeated, she turns away from Robin and sighs heavily. “It’s just, he was supposed to be here for the break and then he backed out at the last minute for some vague, mumbly Jonathan reason.”

She doesn’t know why she’s confiding in Robin about this. They’re barely friends, Nancy has never spoken to her outside of party related stuff. But Robin remains quiet, listening, Her attention is all it takes before the dam in Nancy’s chest collapses. 

“And, to be honest, I’m not that surprised because I’ve been feeling him pulling away lately.” All the hurt and anxiety and insecurity Nancy has pent away finally unravels as she speaks. She can’t stop. “And I don’t know if it’s because we’re 2,000 miles away or if he met someone new or-or if Y/N–”

Nancy stops herself, aware that Robin is your friend. Not hers. Looking away, she hopes Robin didn’t hear her slip. “And now I can’t find out why because apparently he’s blown up his family’s house phone or something, so yeah. If the mention of his name caused a slight muscle spasm or curiosity over another person’s relationship, that’s probably why.”

She swallows down tears. Her chest feels lighter, emptier. The frustration is gone, though the bitterness remains. 

Robin is quiet for a moment. The resentment Nancy has been exhibiting makes sense now. While Steve would follow you anywhere, Jonathan doesn’t seem to want to follow Nancy. “Feels like a perfectly reasonable reason to flinch or be nosey.” 

Nancy smiles at her, eternally grateful. “Does you accepting my nosiness officially make us friends?”

Robin immediately agrees, albeit in her own shy way, and Nancy laughs alongside her. It’s a nice moment, one Nancy hadn’t known that she needed. Your friendship with the girl doesn’t seem so strange now. 

Steve’s distant cheer alerts the others that he’s found Skull Rock.

“Oh, boom!” He crouches beneath a shrub and swats away a spider web. He’s too excited to gloat that he doesn’t even care that there could be spiders in his hair yet again. “In your face, little Henderson. In your stupid, cocky little face!”

“Who’s the fifteen year old here?” You ask your boyfriend, looking at him pointedly. 

Dustin looks down at his compass and frowns. “Doesn’t make sense.”

“You hearing him, Y/N?” Steve waves his hands in front of the giant boulder. “Even with it staring him right in the face, the kid can’t even admit that he’s wrong! And you’re saying I’m the immature one? He’s such a little butthead.”

“Sure, because every nineteen year old says butthead as an insult-fuck!” A body lands next to you with petrifying force. You fall back in panic, heart pounding in your chest.

“I concur,” Eddie smiles at you wickedly. “Your brother, Dustin Henderson, is a total butthead.”

Dustin is hugging Eddie before you’ve even caught your breath. The relief on his face is evident. “Jesus, we thought you were a goner.”

“Yeah, me too.” Eddie clutches your brother tightly, the weight of the last few days bearing their toll on him. Still, the glint in his eyes hasn’t left yet. Winking at you, Eddie’s mischievous smile is back. “Never thought I’d see precious Hawkins’ sweetheart at Skull Rock. Sorry for the fright, by the way.”

You glare at him. “I hate you.” 

Eddie pulls away from Dustin and nudges you with his shoulder. “To be fair, you were kinda useless when I needed you yesterday. Isn’t your whole shtick helping people?” 

Sheepish, you duck your head. “In my defense, the signal was shitty. You kept breaking up, I couldn’t really do anything about holes in boats.”

“It’s okay, you’ll just donate your liver to me the next time I need one.” Eddie nudges your shoulder again, eliciting a begrudging laugh, breaking any remaining tension between you two.

Steve stands next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist in a protective manner. His eyes never leave Eddie, distrustful. “You’re not taking Y/N’s liver.”

“No one’s taking my liver,��� you roll your eyes at him fondly before turning to Eddie. “But I can bake you something as compensation.” 

Eddie clicks his teeth. “Even better.”

Nancy hands the bag of food over to him and he takes it eagerly. He rifts through its contents while everyone else gathers around him. You all allow him time to adjust, to breathe for a moment. 

But eventually the overwhelming need to know outweighs the guilt. Nancy, always the one to get straight to the point, finally breaks the silence. “What happened yesterday?”

Eddie’s face darkens. “Jason and his goddamn goons. They were at the lake house and I was cornered. Didn’t know what to do. The fuckers were angry.”

Your eyes wander his face, noting the lack of bruises and cuts on it. A fight hadn’t broken out, which means Eddie escaped somehow. “And when they found you?”

Eddie takes a swig from his flask. He winces at the taste, but it seems to settle his nerves. “Turns out, the boat didn’t have holes.”

“So Patrick’s body, was it…?” Nancy can’t bring herself to finish the question. 

“Found in the lake? Sure was.” Eddie smiles venomously. “He tried swimming after me, so did Jason. Only one of them made it back to shore.”

Lucas looks away, grief clouding his expression. You mumble an apology to him. You hate that there isn’t anything else you can do to help him. He’s lost so much already.

“It was the exact same thing that happened to Chrissy. Patrick’s body shot out of the water like a fucking rocketlauncher.” Eddie says bitterly. His teeth are clenched, the memories from last night are gruesome to recount. “Then his bones started snapping and Jason lost his mind. He thought I was the one doing it.”

Dustin paces next to you. He’s mumbling to himself, every detail Eddie reveals only worries him more. Vecna has made his third kill. You and Max are next. There’s something that he’s missing. He just doesn’t know what.

“I ended up falling into the water and swimming to shore. I tried calling, but my walkie was busted, man. Drenched.” Eddie drinks again. He shakes his head curtly, scoffs to himself. “So I, uh. Did the thing that I now, apparently. I ran.”

The condescension in his voice, the cold laugh, upsets you. He’s disappointed in himself, he hates what he’s done, but no one blames him. There was no saving Patrick. Anyone who witnessed such a cruel death also would’ve run away. “You had no choice, Eddie.”

He ignores your comfort and instead answers Nancy’s question of what time the attack took place. “Yeah, I know exactly what time it was.” Eddie unclasps his watch and holds it up. “My walkie wasn’t the only thing that got soaked.”

Nancy catches the watch he throws her at and quickly reads the time on it. “9:27.”

You and Robin look at each other in surprise. She raises her eyebrows, thinking what you are. “That’s the same time our flashlights went kablooey.”

“That’s one hell of a coincidence.” You mutter to yourself, but Steve hears you anyways and squeezes your side. 

“That surge of energy had to be Vecna attacking Patrick.” Nancy pieces together, tossing Eddie his watch back. 

It isn’t a comforting realization, but at least it’s information you can use. You now know where, how, and when he Vecna attacks. The only piece missing is what to do with the information you have.

Dustin continues to pace back and forth. He’s hunched over, and when you look closer, you realize he’s scowling at his compass as if it personally offended him.

“So now we just need to sneak into his lair in the Upside Down and drive a stake through his heart.” Max says, as if it’s the most casual sentence in the world.

You look at her like she’s crazy. “We’re not going to the Upside Down!”

But no one is listening to you. Instead Steve, Robin, and Max begin a philosophical debate about whether or not Venca has a heart or if he’s a vampire. 

“It was a metaphor.” Max informs Steve, slight disappointment in her voice.

“A bullet should work on him, right?” Eddie asks the group.

You shake your head at him. “Bullets never work.”

He stares at you, somewhat terrified. “How… how do you already know that?”

“We’ve had a lot of practice.”

“That’s actually even more upsetting to hear.” 

Lucas and the others start spewing creative ways to kill Vecna. They’re graphic and violent, but you already know that none of it will work. You’ve fought creatures from the Upside Down before; they’re notoriously difficult to kill, oftentimes requiring fire, bullets, knives, and bear traps. 

None of which you currently have.

Nancy knows this, too. “We can’t do any of that until we find a way into the Upside Down.”

“Why are we all suddenly okay with going there?” You ask incredulously. They’re all suggesting the Upside Down as if it’s fucking Disneyland. “I mean, haven’t we been trying to cut any connection to that goddamn place for the last four years?”

“What other option do we have, Y/N?” Nancy pushes. “You know there’s no other way to stop this.”

Max sighs in exasperation. “What we need is for El to get her powers back.”

“I miss her.” You sigh as well. You’re worried that there’s something wrong. You’ve called the Byers’ home a million times now, but no one is answering. Despite the weirdness between you and Jonathan, you still want him to be okay. He’s never gone this long without talking to you. 

And with Jonathan’s silence comes silence from El and Will, too. You hope they’re okay as well, especially knowing that Mike is supposed to be with them this week. You figured by now that Will would’ve called you to complain about Mike’s obsession with El. 

Instead all there’s been is silence, and their silence unnerves you.

Steve voices that he also misses El, turning to Eddie to explain how she has powers, but Eddie isn’t paying attention to him. 

“Hey, Henderson’s not cursed, is he?” His eyes follow Dustin’s pacing figure, nervous. 

“No, but I am.”

Eddie chokes on his spit and Steve snaps his finger at you. “That’s so not funny, Y/N. You’re in danger.”

“My point exactly. I feel that I’ve earned the right to joke about my demise.” You say, though you do grab his hand and squeeze it softly to voice your unsaid apology. As much as his concern warms you, you wish he didn’t have any at all for you. Worry has never been kind to Steve. Trying to brighten the mood, you turn to Eddie. “Don’t you agree?”

Eddie raises his hands. “I’m not a part of this.”

“Boom!” Dustin’s loud screech causes everyone to jump. He points his finger at you, a manic glint in his eyes. “Bada… bada… boom!” 

You shove his finger out of your face. “Are you done yet?” 

“I was right.” Dustin is smug, the mania in his eyes has yet to settle. “Skull Rock was north.”

You want to strangle your brother. You love him, you really do, but he can be very egotistical sometimes. He’s spent the entire conversation obsessively searching for a way to be right, rather than figure out what to do next about Vecna. 

He’s insane. 

Steve throws his head back in annoyance, equally as fed up with Dustin as you are. “You’re serious? This is Skull Rock!” He points at the giant boulder behind him. “You’re totally, absolutely, 100% wrong. Right now!”

“There’s literally nowhere else Skull Rock could be, Dustin.” You back Steve up. 

Dustin smiles. “Yes… and no.”

Steve has to step away, and you can’t blame him. You’re also seconds away from bashing your head against a tree. You’re in a forest. There are plenty to choose from. 

“This worked correctly when we left the Wheelers’.” Dustin holds up his compass. “It was correct when we got in the car on Kerley, but it started to slip the further east we went. Now it’s way off. When I was leading us here, I wasn’t wrong. The compass was.”

Steve insists that the compass is merely faulty equipment and that it still makes Dustin wrong, but you start to remember another time a compass started acting up. How it almost caused the party to split apart.

El had been the one controlling the compass, leading them in circles because she hadn’t wanted them near Hawkins Lab. 

Which would mean…

“It isn’t a faulty compass.” You look up at Dustin, now understanding. 

His face splits into a proud grin. “Correct. Lucas, do you remember what can affect a compass?”

The teen is startled by the question. Lucas’ face is masked with confusion, but suddenly everything clicks. “An electromagnetic field.”

Robin questions what any of this means, prompting Dustin to explain what Mr. Clark told you at Will’s funeral. He explains the electromagnetic theory and how the presence of a stronger field can make a compass stop working. “So either there’s a super big magnet around here, or��”

“There’s a gate.” You finish, ice washing over you. The idea terrifies you, but somehow it makes perfect sense. “Maybe even multiple gates.”

Everyone looks uncomfortable with this new information, but Dustin cuts through the tension. “It’d have to be smaller, way less powerful.”

“A snack-sized gate.” Robin adds, and you appreciate that she’s trying to make you laugh.

Steve asks how multiple gates can even be possible, and all Dustin can do is shrug. He doesn’t know, but it’s the furthest you’ve gotten to any semblance of an explanation. “The last time we’ve seen anything like it, it was a gate. And I hope it is, because then we’d have a way to Vecna. And a shot at freeing Y/N and Max from this curse.”

It’s the most hopeful you’ve seen Dustin all week. He’s optimistic, endlessly proud of himself for figuring out the missing piece of the equation. 

“Okay, but there’s still the Eddie problem. What do we do about him?” You remind your brother.

Steve nods. “Yeah, he’s still a wanted man. We can’t just go hike the woods.”

Dustin is already several feet away, eager to start following the compass. He’s so close to finally lifting the curse. He’s going to save you. He will. “This little capsule might be the key to saving all three of them! Max, Y/N, and Eddie.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him that even if you do find a way to kill Venca, it’d be almost impossible to clear Eddie’s name. No one else knows about the Upside Down. Legally speaking, you aren’t even allowed to know about the Upside Down. 

But Dustin bows to Eddie and pretends to tip his hat. “What say you, Eddie the Banished?”

Everyone turns to the older teen. It’s a lot to ask of him. This entire time he’s been hiding, fearful of shadows and people. You wouldn’t think any less of him if he declined. And yet, Eddie surprises you. “I say you’re asking me to follow you into Mordor, which if I’m totally straight with you, I think is a really bad idea, but the Shire… the Shire is burning.”

Dustin bounces up and down in anticipation. You cross your arms, rolling your eyes at him, but his childish glee makes you smile anyways. It’s cute, as much as it pains you to admit. 

Eddie stands up. “So Mordor it is.”

He marches towards Dustin, no ounce of hesitation within his movements. He has complete and total trust in your brother. He’s following him into what could very well be Hell, and yet Eddie does so with a brave face. They really are close.

And Eddie has chosen to join, not run away. 

“No more running?” You catch his arm.

Eddie smiles at you. “No more running.”

“What the hell is Mordor?” Steve cuts in, lost.

You giggle at him and grab his hand. “C’mon, Harrington. To Mordor we go.”

– 

Dustin’s compass leads you back to Lover’s Lake. 

You and Steve walk quietly behind the others. Your fondest memories together are at the lake. It’s where Steve finally asked you to be his. That night, underneath the stars, you kissed for hours and felt as if you were the only two people in the world. 

As if reading your mind, Steve brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly. 

The small moment between you is ruined when Dustin suddenly starts to speed up, practically running away from the group. Eddie shouts at him to slow down and the thought of your brother alone in the woods frightens you. Pulling away from Steve, you run after him. 

“I think we’re getting close!” Dustin calls over his shoulder, not seeing the water in front of him.

Eddie grabs the back of his hoodie and saves him before he can fall in. “Watch your step, big guy.”

“This is confounding,” Dustin is breathless, utterly in awe.

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?” Max is skeptical.

You hum, thinking. “Unless there’s somehow another reason for Dustin’s compass going haywire, I’d say there’s a gate here.”

“Whenever the Demogorgon attacked, it always left an opening.” Nancy slowly says, her eyes scanning the water as she studies it. “Maybe Vecna’s the same way.”

Dipping the tip of your muddied mary janes into the water, you look down at it thoughtfully. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

You hate the Upside Down and all that it’s taken from you. Hopper, Will’s childhood, Max’s brother, El’s life. You hate all the violence and pain it brought into your life. The scars that litter your skin and the nightmares that will never leave.

But Max comes first. You have to save her. It doesn’t matter what it’ll cost you as long as she’s safe.

Eddie guides everyone to the boat he used to escape from Jason. Though its engine doesn’t work, he reassures the group that it’ll be fine. At the very least, it’ll get you deep into the water. Steve helps him push it to the shore’s edge.

Robin steps onto the boat first, using Steve and Eddie’s heads for balance as they hold the boat steady. They scoff at her, but she doesn’t care. Eddie goes next, then Nancy. When you go to step inside, Dustin pulls you back. 

“Have you lost your mind?” His hand doesn’t leave your arm. “In case you’ve somehow forgotten, you’re also marked. You’re not going anywhere near a goddamn gate.”

His voice shakes with fear for you. Your heart twists. “Dustin, I haven’t had any visions yet. Just the headaches. I even have my walkman on me. I promise I’ll be fine.”

“I’m coming with you.” Dustin juts his chin out, trying to appear brave before you.

But you see through him anyways. “You’re not. I need you to stay with Max and Lucas for me, okay?” Before he can argue with you some more, you kiss the top of his head. “I love you.”

Just as Dustin can’t stand the idea of losing you, you can’t stand the idea of losing him, either. 

Dustin snatches your walkman from your pocket. You lunge at him, but he’s fast. In a heartbeat he’s at his backpack, grabbing an old plastic bag, before he starts frantically wrapping your walkman within it. He ties the plastic tight around it, making it airtight. 

“I hate what you’re doing,” Dustin gives the walkman back to you with contempt in his voice. “But I’m not losing you to a waterlogged walkman.”

The pressure of tears builds behind your eyelids. You love your brother endlessly. Kissing his head again, you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You’re never losing me.”

“I better not.” He mumbles, sinking into your embrace. “And I love you too, by the way.”

You laugh wetly, and Eddie takes it as his cue to finally speak. “Not to ruin this tender sibling moment, but this boat only holds like three people tops. Dustin wouldn’t be able to come anyways.”

Dustin sticks his tongue out at him and Nancy extends her arm. “Compass?”

Reluctantly, your brother hands her his compass. After he’s given it to her, Steve finally turns to Dustin. He lowers his voice, trying to give him some privacy. “Listen, I’ll keep Y/N safe, alright?”

Though he doesn’t want to, Dustin nods. Steve is the only person that he trusts your life with. If it were anyone else, Dustin would’ve thrown himself onto the boat and demanded he be next to you. But you’re with Steve and your walkman is safe. That’s all he can ask for now. 

“You better.” Dustin warns, but his heart isn’t really in it.

Steve claps his shoulder and kicks off the shore’s edge, sending the boat into the water. It’s a small boat, Steve has to wrap his arms around you to fit. You’re pressed tight against his chest while Eddie, Nancy, and Robin are squished on the other side of the boat.

“Bedtime at nine, kiddos!” Robin shouts as the boat floats away, giggling.

You hit her shoulder. “Be nice, they’re worried about us.”

She shrugs, indifferent, and starts helping Eddie steer the boat. Nancy guides them with the compass while you and Steve hold up the flashlights. It’s eerily quiet on the lake. The only sound that infiltrates the night is the soft crash of the waves against the shore. 

About halfway into the lake, Nancy orders Eddie and Robin to stop rowing. “Woah, woah, woah. Slow down.”

The boat comes to a stop. You shine your flashlight over the compass and watch as it spins wildly. It can’t seem to decide on a direction to point in. “Definitely not just faulty equipment.”

Nancy nods, her face grim. 

“Guys, what’s going on? Talk to me.” Dustin’s voice crackles through the walkie. He must’ve seen the boat stop.

“Your compass has gone from wonky to wonky with a capital ‘aah!’” Robin tells him, eyes narrowed at the instrument. 

You take the walkie from her. “I think we found the gate.”

“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy’s concerned voice causes you to turn.

Steve has taken his shoes off and he’s already stripping his socks by the time you process what the hell he’s doing. “Steve Harrington I will drown you before I let you close to any goddamn gate.”

“Somebody’s gotta go down and check this out, angel.” He says hastily, taking his other sock off. “Unless one of you can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years.”

“What, did the swim team train you in dimension hunting?” You grab his arms, struggling against his strength to stop him. He fights back, overpowering you easily. You’re starting to panic now. “I-I’m not letting you down there!”

“It’s gotta be me.” He’s speaking to you in a hushed, understanding tone. Steve’s eyes find yours, and he pleads with you to listen. “Let it be me.”

Let me save you. 

“I…” You don’t want Steve to go; you’re scared you’ll lose him if you do. 

“Y/N, please.” 

Don’t make me beg for your life again.

Last summer Steve had been torn away from you by Russians. You watched as they took him from you, pried him from your grasp. The fear, the overwhelming sense of despair you’d felt back then had almost strangled you. 

You’ve already almost lost him once.

It would kill you if it happened again. You know it would. He’s your lifeline. Steve is the air you breathe and the flesh on your skin. He’s your constant, your home. 

“Come home to me, okay?”

They’re the same words you screamed to him the last time he was taken from you. It’d been the only thing you could think of, the only way to encompass all that he is to you. But Steve hadn’t been able to swear his oath to you. Time had run out. 

But not tonight.

“Always,” Steve promises. 

Then, ignoring everyone around you, Steve pulls you into a bruising kiss. His kiss, his promise, they breathe life back into you. The assurance that he’ll come back to you fills honey into your bloodstream. The taste of his lips coats your tongue in dandelion oil. 

Someone clears their throat aggressively, not so subtly reminding you and Steve that you’re still on a boat surrounded by three other people. 

Breaking apart, your cheeks burn when you see Eddie’s kissy face. “Romantic.”

“Shut up.” 

You help Steve undress. It’s intimate, tender. You would do anything for him. Pulling his sweater gently over his head, you kiss him again. “Good luck, honey. I love you.”

Steve rests his forehead against yours, breathing you in for the final time. His hands cup your face, warm and rough. “I love you too, angel.”

Eddie hands him a flashlight wrapped in a plastic bag. “Hey. What Y/N said. I mean, without the love confession. Um. Good luck.”

Taking the flashlight, Steve thanks him. Robin grabs your hand, both of you needing the other for comfort. She’s terrified, Steve is her best friend. Nancy looks at him with a look in her eyes that you can’t quite decipher.

“Be careful.” She finally tells him. 

Steve nods, looking back at you one last time, before taking a deep breath and diving into the dark water. 

The seconds drag on like hours. The moment Steve dives in, you feel every second he’s under the water like a knife cutting into your lungs. Your legs shake, Robin’s grip on you is so tight that it threatens to cut off circulation, but you don’t let go of her. 

“Where we at, Wheeler?” Robin asks after what feels like a decade. 

“Closing in on a minute.” She sees your shaking body and rests a kind hand against your shoulder. “Steve can handle it. I know he can. He’s strong.”

You bite your nails anxiously. Blood fills your mouth. You know Nancy is trying to comfort you, but her words only make you feel worse. Steve is strong, but he’s still only human. 

A horrifying thought crosses your mind: you’ve dreamt of this before, only it’d been Billy drowning you in the pool. Your body goes numb. Tonight can’t end that way. 

Almost another minute drags on before Steve’s head miraculously resurfaces. He inhales sharply, splashing water all over you, but you don’t care. You’re leaning over the boat’s edge the second his hands reach the surface. 

You can finally breathe again.

“Steve!” You kiss his soaked hair, grateful to feel his skin against your lips again. 

“I found it,” he gasps out, spitting water out of his mouth. He reaches for your hand, anxious as well to feel your touch. “I-I found it.”

Robin cheers, quickly alerting Dustin that he’d been right about the gates. You go to help Steve back into the boat, but he waves you away and goes back to holding your hand. He doesn’t want you getting wet, it’s cold out and you could get sick.

“It was wild.” Steve rubs his finger over the back of your hand. He’s smiling, adrenaline coursing through him. “It’s more a snack-sized gate than the mama gate, but still, it’s pretty damn big–”

Suddenly he’s back underneath the water, pulled so deep below that he almost drags you down with him. You scream, shrill and terrified. Nancy and Robin rush to your side, holding you back so that you don’t fall into the water as well.

Steve resurfaces again, but he must sense that this isn’t the end, because he rips your hand from his. He does it to save you, to ensure you don’t get taken with him. But you fight against it, you don’t understand why he wants you to let go of him. 

Steve pries your hand away. “Y/N–”

And then he’s gone. 

Everyone screams as Steve’s body disappears into the water. 

“Steve!” You’re dizzy with blind fear. He had protected you. He had spent his final seconds making sure that you wouldn’t get hurt, and now he’s gone.

Robin’s arms are around you, holding you back as you scream. She knows what you’re about to do. “Y/N, you can’t–”

“Let go!” You throw your shoulder back, prying your arm away. She screams at you, Nancy and Eddie do as well, but you’re already tearing your sweater off. 

You’re going in. You don’t care. Steve needs you. 

He needs you.

The water is cold. It shocks your system. Eyes burning, you struggle to make out where Steve is. Faintly, in the dark water, you see his body being dragged down. There’s something twisted around his ankle, pulling him towards a red light. You can hear his muffled screams. His arms flail, bubbles escape his mouth as he struggles against it, as he’s pulled through the red haze.

Lungs burning, you will your legs to kick as hard as they can. You’re both running out of time. 

The closer you get to the red haze, the colder the water becomes. Your ears pop at the depth. As the murky water settles, you realize that the red that illuminates is a crack in the earth’s surface. Vines encase its edges. 

Breaking through it, air hits your body as you fall to the ground. Your back scrapes against the rough ground beneath you, leaving you gasping for breath. You barely have time to gather your bearings before you hear Steve’s pained screams.

You stumble onto your feet, desperately searching for him. 

What you find is Steve’s body on the ground, vines choking him as he writhes in agony, demonic bats gorging on his stomach. 

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[sadembryhours]

Can you a Josh x reader where the reader helps Josh cope with his sisters’ death?

HUMAN! ♡ josh washington

synopsis : you try your best to help him live ; allow him to grieve and hold his hand as he does. silently, he’s forever thankful.

cw : heavy mental health talk / depections , josh is unwell , reader takes care of him

song inspo ; human by dodie

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Blue and red lights surround you, bouncing off of the freshly fallen snow. Jess is sobbing into Mike's shoulder, Emily holding her hand as they talk to two officers in their uniform. Sam is laying her own head on your shoulder, her hand squeezing yours as you both sit in silence.

Chris stands with Josh, who only stars at the mountain view around him.

You shiver as the wind whips by you, carrying a conversation your way. Two other officers look at Josh warily before looking back at the lodge. It was a crime scene now — closed for everyone until further notice.

"With me," your voice cuts through. Josh's watery, unseeing eyes seem to find you. With a frown, you look back towards the officer. "He can stay with me."

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The silence of the drive home follows you as you lead Josh inside. He treks in slowly, boots heavy, laced with snow and distress. Lifelessly, Josh all but falls onto your couch, perching there stiffly.

You frown, "Josh? Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

He mumbles, but you can only hear him saying his sisters names. Crouching, you meet his gaze as best as you can. Your fingers lace into his — they're cold ; frigid and frozen as he simply twitches at the touch. "Josh. Are you with me?"

He still doesn't speak, no movement or sound comes from him at all. You hold your dismay in, concealing it and composing yourself instead. You stand, shuffling Josh out of his shoes and jacket until he's left in his sweater. Taking off your own outside clothes, you turn the tv onto something silly and absent-minded. With a stroke to the top of his head, you leave Josh to make something warm to eat.

It'll take time, you think to yourself. The stove comes to life, warming your house up even more as you cook. The living room is silent — Josh sits as still as a statue. You don't even know if he's blinked since coming in — since Sam woke him up from the horrible prank that was played on his sisters. It'll just take some time.

You blow on the food you'd made, setting it on the coffee table in front of you. A cup of Josh's favored drink goes to the left of it as you leave to get on your own plate. The couch dips as you sit beside him — he's still blank, even as you nudge him gently.

"Eat before it gets cold," you say quietly. Gentle — Josh needs gentle, tender words to help him come back ; help him heal. He merely blinks. "Should I feed you, then?"

A twitch of his lips — it's not much, but it's enough to get a grin out of you. Leaning forward, you meet his eyes. "I will! Is that what you want? The royal treatment, your highness Josh?"

His lips spread into a small, delicate smile before creaky, frozen joints start to move. He grabs his silverware with shaking hands, settling the plate on his lap. Josh stares at the steam, "thanks."

"Eat up," you respond. You squeeze his free hand for a minute before letting it go. Josh looks at you through his eyelashes and you smile at him. "There's plenty more if you're still hungry."

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No longer catatonic, Josh still only spoke quietly and sparsely. He ate one meal a day, if that, and only because you pestered him to do so. A week had went by with him simply sitting. He turned the tv to a news channel, eyes wide and seeing each and every emergency broadcast.

Simply waiting for any news of his sisters.

"Hey," you lean on the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Josh turns his head only an inch, eyes cemented on the current weather updates. "Want to shower? It'll warm you up."

Josh's hands twitch in his lap as he blinks. You bite your lip, going to stand in front of him. It's as if he's looking through you ; as if he can still the tv you stand in front of. "Josh?"

With no response, you take matters into your own hands once more. A warm washcloth is held in one hand, a bowl of steamy, soapy water in the other. You kneel on the floor in front of Josh, the bowl off to your right. Dipping the washcloth in the water, you wring it out before wiping Josh's face tenderly.

He blinks at the warmth, inhaling the scent of your soap slowly. Life trickles back into his eyes, sea foam brightening surely until he's looking at you. "[Name]."

"Hi," you grin at him. You set the rag down, hands in your lap as Josh stares. "Doing alright?"

"Yeah." Looking at the damp cloth in your hand, Josh blinks. "I don't think I can stand."

You shake your head before he finishes his sentence. You lift yourself to your knees, raking your fingers in his hair. "Don't worry about it. This is enough for now."

Josh's eyes flutter at your touch as you continue to give him a half-hearted bath. His hands unclench, leaving his side to wrap around your elbows. You pause, rag against his neck as you look at him curiously. He breathes out, "thank you."

"I'll get you a change of clothes when I'm done, hm?"

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The nightmares seem to start then. The more Josh continued to come back to reality, the meaner his mind became. Trying to get him in a bed was useless — your guest room was absent of a tv and he needed to see the news.

Whimpering wakes you from the small sleep you'd drifted off to. You never had a deep sleep now, always keeping one ear open for Josh. Letting out a sleepy sigh, you stumble into the living room.

He's already awake by the time you find him. Curled up on the floor in front of the couch, knees to his chest as he cries. "Sorry," Josh stutters, "sorry, I'm so sorry."

You don't know if he's talking to you or someone — something else.

Slowly, so you don't spook him, you take a seat to Josh's left. Your eyes droop as you lean your chin on the table, hand inching to his. You entertwine your fingers with his, taking them from where Josh was pulling and tugging at his hair.

Josh jumps, eyes wide and startled as he searches for you in the darkness. You smile his way softly, "let's sleep in my room tonight. I'll keep the tv on."

You're already half-asleep when Josh curls around you. Turning, you open you arms to welcome him into your embrace. A heavy, withering sigh escapes his mouth and causes his chest to tremble. Josh burrows his face into your chest, "thank you, [Name]."

"You have to stop thanking me," you slur sleepily. Tender, tickilish nails scrape against his scalp lightly, bringing him closer to you. Josh sighs and relaxes further. "I don't mind taking care of you."

As you drift off, a tentative, burning kiss is left at your clavicle. Josh breathes you in once more before he delves into blissful, happy memories of his sisters.

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[darknight3904]

Blank Space

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴏʏ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 10ᴛʜ ᴀɴɴᴜᴀʟ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴀʟʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx, ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏʙ ᴍᴀɴ. ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ!

You could feel his eyes on you, it had been like this for months. Coriolanus Snow's eyes followed you nearly everywhere you went. From your class presentations to where you sat in the cafeteria with your peers, those strikingly blue eyes were always watching. Arachne had called it "unnerving" and "downright creepy" but what she didn't know was that you loved it. Knowing that you had the smartest boy in the class wrapped around your finger felt empowering, it also helped that you had been in a relationship with said boy for months now.

It had been sudden, the beginnings of the relationship with him. Sejanus was the one who pointed him out to you. Perhaps he was just trying to put in a good word for his friend but before you knew it Coriolanus was bringing you white roses and brushing your hair from your face. He'd present you with little folded pieces of paper, made to look like swans or butterflies and you cherished each one, your desk drawer at home was filled with his gifts. You and Coriolanus had agreed not to walk around the academy flaunting your relationship and opted for a much more discreet version of boyfriend and girlfriend when in public. That promise of secrecy didn't exactly stop hushed gossip and rumors that flew around the school. You'd deny any ideas of dating but you knew so many of your peers saw right through this act. Of course, all this secrecy, just meant he was all the more touchy in private. Even now, as you sat in his lap at your desk, trying to focus on the essay that was due tomorrow.

"It's perfect. You always get good marks anyway."He said, his fingertips dancing around your waist trying to get you to pull your attention from the paper before you.

"Easy to say when you have the highest marks." You pointed out, squirming when his fingers brushed a particularly ticklish spot.

"True, but you've always been a better writer than me. Don't you want to eat some of that food your maid brought in? It smells wonderful." He nodded to the large cart of food that had been sitting in your room, ignored for the past ten minutes.

One thing about your charming boyfriend was that he was always hungry. Coriolanus never turned down any of your suggestions of what to eat and was constantly eager to try whatever your family's cook whipped up when he was visiting you. His explanation for this constant hunger was that the Snow's cook was simply terrible but they couldn't fire him since their grandmother loved him so.

"I guess we can eat." You sigh placing your essay neatly into a folder, and standing to let him up from your desk chair.

You carefully helped your boyfriend place some of the food on your oversized bed. Another thing about him was that he highly enjoyed eating while sitting on your bed with you, of course, you couldn't blame him your bed was irresistibly soft.

"Do you honestly think that Arachne has the best hair in the class?" He laughed

"It's always pinned so neatly! Not to mention how her hair bows always compliment her makeup!" You point out

" I personally believe that there's another who has the best hair." He says, popping a grape into his mouth

"Oh really, who? And don't say Sejanus or Festus because we both know you'd be lying." You laugh, taking another bite of the chicken on your plate.

"It is obviously me." Coriolanus says "Have you seen my curls?"

He's dead serious about the statement but you can't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?" He asks, reaching over to poke at your stomach as you giggle at him

"You're just so confident, it's kind of funny." You smile

"Oh please, you act like my looks aren't the whole reason you were interested in me in the first place." He points out.

"That is not fair." You groan, knowing it is true. Coriolanus' good looks had definitely helped him get the girl. It didn't help that his words were equally as charming.

"Don't worry, I know your hundreds of ex-boyfriends don't compare to me." He smirks, pulling you to his side

"It's not hundreds." You snort, sure, you dated quite a few boys in the past but, so far none of them have ever held a candle to your Coryo.

Coriolanus found himself fully enraptured by your presence. From the way you'd double knot your shoes to the soft cherry red lipstick, you wore when he'd take you out on dates that he made sure were cheap yet incredibly tasteful. He felt incredibly reckless whenever he was with you, the way he'd find himself blurting out the craziest things in your presence was simply uncanny. Even now as you sat, awaiting him in bed, he knew you were going to somehow drag some crazy statements out of his mouth even when he swore he wouldn't blab on about god only knows what.

"Hope you didn't miss me too much." He teases when he exits your bathroom, slipping under the covers with you

"Don't get cocky." You laugh, pulling the covers up to hide your chest.

Coriolanus hated that you did that after sex. He had just been inside you, and yet you insisted on hiding what was probably his favorite part of you under the silky sheets that adorned your bed. Sure, he wanted to respect your boundaries and all, but he also wanted to be able to use your chest as his personal pillow.

"Stop staring at them." You scold, trying to wiggle away from his arms that were wrapping around you under the blankets.

"I can't help it, they're so soft." He says, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.

"You're so strange." You laugh, running a hand through those wonderfully curly locks

"You love it." He sighed into your skin.

Months later, one day before the 10th Annual Hunger Games

You couldn't believe it. Coriolanus had blown you off. You had planned a date, a simple one really just a little picnic with some of his favorite foods and he never showed up. He had been acting strange ever since reaping day but when he had agreed earlier to your picnic idea you had been elated. You initially had thought he was just nervous since he got stuck with the District 12 girl but now you could see why he was acting so oddly. The moment you saw him standing in that damn cage at the zoo next to her, holding her hand, you knew exactly what was going on, he was interested in a girl who would be dead in days. His songbird was pretty, she'd give him that but what the hell did Lucy Gray have to offer your Coryo that you didn't already possess? Sure, she was a good singer that was obvious but other than that what did she have? Certainly not riches or manners to win your boy over and yet she was doing it anyway, she was singing her songs and casting a spell over your Coriolanus. You wondered if she was even truly interested in him, what if she was just trying to survive and Coryo was falling for it like an idiot?

It took quite a bit of self-control not to toss something at his head when he entered your room.

"I'm sorry...I know I missed your picnic." He said, crossing the room quickly

"You're only sorry for missing my picnic?" You ask, not rising from your seat

"What are you talking about? I'm here to apologize for standing you up. I was with Lucy Gray she needed food and I wanted to talk to her about strategy for the games." He said

"Really? You were talking strategy with her?" You roll your eyes, pointing to the television in your room which was paused on the broadcast Lucky Flickerman had done earlier that afternoon. Lucky was the focus of the shot but in the background, anyone with eyes could see Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray overly close to one another.

"I don't think talking strategy requires wiping her tears for her Coryo." You say

"She's just scared, I felt bad for her." He lies

"So you were just comforting her?" You ask

"Yes. Nothing more." He says

Jealousy reared its ugly head and set a bitter taste in your mouth. Did he honestly expect you to believe that?

"You're a man of many talents, Coryo but you're not a very good liar." You point out before clicking a button on your remote to show him the next thing you want him to see.

You want to laugh at the way his eyes widen at what you're showing him.

"She kisses you here, Coryo. I'm sure you would've continued too if you weren't so caught up in your own desires for that Plinth Prize." You point out, letting the footage play of him and Lucy Gray in the dark at the zoo which had to have been not even an hour ago.

"Are you spying on me?" He asks, offended

"You forget my mother's position in the Capitol, Coryo. She pioneered the advanced cameras The Hunger Games uses each year. Did you honestly think that there wouldn't be cameras watching the Tributes through the night?" You laugh

"So you're watching me?" He asks, clearly upset that you caught him red-handed

"You're the one skipping out on a relationship that is more important than anything that Songbird could offer." You coldly say

"You're crazy," Coriolanus says backing away from you and your camera footage

"You're one to talk, Coryo. Have you looked in the mirror recently?" You laugh, standing up

"Jealousy isn't a good look on you." He says

"And cheating isn't a good one on you." You counter

"That wasn't cheating." He says

"Really? And what do you call kissing another person who isn't in your relationship called?" You ask

"I don't need to explain my actions to you." He says

"You don't have to." You say "I hope she's worth all your trouble, considering she could die tomorrow."

"She'll win." He assures himself

"If she doesn't I'm sure you'll be quite sad, given you're so taken with her." You say, walking over to your desk where a vase of white roses sits, he gave them to you the day of the reaping. You pull them from the vase and walk towards him.

"What are you doing?" He asks as you get closer

"Returning your gifts." You say sharply before tossing them at him "Give them back to Grandma'am I'm sure she'll be glad to have them back in her greenhouse."

"You're acting insane." He says holding the roses gently

"I'm not. I'm just responding to everything you've done." You say coldly

"You know all those past boyfriends of yours, one of them said you were insane. I should have listened." He says, pointing an accusing finger at you

"Oh please. I'm insane?" You laugh

"Yeah, you are. And this," He points to himself and then you "Is over."

You watch as Coriolanus tosses his roses on the floor before storming out of your room, and presumably out of your family's home. From your window that overlooks the front of the house, you see him cast one more glance at you from the front yard.

"Oh, Coryo, you'll come running back."

Part 2

In case anyone reading this is wondering I do not hate Lucy Gray in any way so don't come after me.

The teaser for Part Two can be found here

[lucid-loves]

Reader getting kidnapped and tortured for information, when Simon and the team save the reader and take them back to base and Simon helps her recover mentally and physically, Simon swears to protect her at all costs? And they fall in love?! ❤️❤️

Thank you for waiting! 🤍

What a Time To Be Alive

Pairing: Ghost x POW!reader (fem!reader, 141!reader, callsign “Spite”)

Word Count: 13.7k, One-Shot

CW: strong language, angst, violence, scars, blood, wounds, killing, fluff, attraction, one-shot, reader POV and Ghost POV, minors DNI, EXPLICIT SMUT, P in V, passionate kisses, fingering, hickeys, mirror sex, passionate sex, gentleness, compliments, praise

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: You were caught by the enemy during a crucial mission. The 141 team had no choice but to leave you, thinking you were dead already. For a year and a half, you were held prisoner and tortured for information. When the 141 finally gets you back, Ghost volunteers to take care of you during your recovery, having felt responsible for your capture. Both of your feelings blossom into something more as you both realize how much you care about one another. 

You were dead. At least, that’s what everyone thought when they watched you get shot in the head. You didn’t blame them for leaving. You would have probably thought the same thing if it was one of them.

No, you were still alive. The metal plate that doctors put in your head after a bad car accident as a teenager saved your life. You were knocked out cold upon bullet impact, but still very much alive. Not that you were doing well, though. 

With a headache and tired eyes, you looked at your cold, stone wall marked with tally marks for the passing days. 547 days were marked, give or take. There were days where you didn’t wake up so you forgot to mark them. You didn’t wake up until some time after you were captured too. Those days weren’t marked.

Your stomach grumbled, making your body’s ache amplify all over. You couldn’t remember the last time your body didn’t hurt. What was once lean military muscle was now skin and bones. You were constantly hungry for food, a combination of you refusing to eat out of spite and being underserved overcooked rice to the point that it was just mush. 

They kept you weak. Underfed and dehydrated. It was probably a good thing they did because otherwise you would rip your warden apart with your bare hands. 

When you first came to after being captured, you had the honor to meet your warden right away. A man that was on the hit list for the 141, Bill Porakov. but made a surprise appearance at the mission. He was the one that lifted his gun just as everyone was boarding the helicopter to go home. 

It was one of the memories you still remembered so vividly. The dirt kicking up from the ground, the blades whipping around the wind, the look back you happened to give by chance before the gun went off. You saw the aim. You traced it back. And before the bullet could hit him, you had pushed Ghost hard. The last sight you saw of them was Ghost falling forward towards the chopper, the rest of the team that was already grabbing his arms to pull him in. 

You saw the brief expressions he gave you when he looked back. At first, he was annoyed, but it didn’t take long for his annoyance to morph into pure horror as the bullet meant for him hit your skull.

When you awoke, you were strapped to a chair. Your head pounded, you were in your underwear, and you were meeting your warden. 

No matter what he did, you never talked. Even when he cut your skin with knives. Even when he dislocated your jaw with a hammer. Even when he took your pinkie finger and a few of your teeth, you never talked. All you did was give a human snarl, angry firecrackers in your eyes.  

It wasn’t until the third month when he realized that nothing was going to make you talk that he switched tactics to solitary confinement. He came by every now and then to try physical torture again. Waterboarding, electric shock. 

It felt like he did it more so for fun than to fish information out of you after a certain point. 

You snapped to attention when you heard whispers down the hall. A few guards were whispering to each other. Trying to ignore the pain of your body, you attempted to eavesdrop. 

“-said to be extra careful today. Maintenance work will have the cameras down for a little bit.”

“Like anything is gonna happen. Her brain is too scrambled to do anything. You know what she did last week?”

“What?”

“She threw her food out. Managed to sling the bowl through the bars and shattered the thing. Then, she just sat in the corner. Didn’t even realize that the food she got was actually good that day. The bitch is paranoid and out of it. One too many things to that thick skull of hers.”

“Damn, really? When do think the warden is gonna let her go now that she’s fucked in the head?”

“Probably never. After that incident was reported, he just shrugged. Said she was still a prize, even starving.”

As the guards approached your cell, you pretended that you were asleep. It wasn’t hard to do since you often found yourself pretending to be asleep to avoid guard confrontation. When you heard the sound of your cell door unlocking and opening, you stirred as if just becoming awake. 

“Dinner. Don’t make me clean your mess like last week.”

You slowly got up and limped towards the silver tray, your porcelain dishware exchanged for silver since last week. 

You threw the food against the wall last week because it looked good. Too good. You did get paranoid and thought it was poisoned. A last meal. You didn’t care if it made you look crazy. In fact, you liked how they thought you went crazy. They would underestimate you, especially now that the time was right for your plan. 

On your tray was the usual mush of rice mixed together with cut deli meat. The smallest amount of protein and carbs that would make the grumbling stop, but your body still weak. 

Slowly, you ate, trying to ignore the fact that you had to eat with your fingers that were covered in sweat and dirt. They only let you take a cold shower once a month. One that only lasted thirty seconds. 

God, you hoped that today really would be the day you could start your plans of escape. 

“Prison Fight in Cell Block D! Personnel in Cell Block E and F report to Cell Block D immediately!” a strong voice announced over the speakers just as one of the guards was relocking your cell. They both sighed, but then hurried out to see what the commotion was. 

Except, they forgot to lock your door properly. You’ve gotten used to all the sounds of the prison like a pattern. The sound of your cell door locking was a familiar that never missed, until today. Waiting a few minutes, you made sure that the guards were gone and busy. If this was going to work, you had to be careful. Play your cards right.

You were lucky that you were Cell Block F’s only prisoner. 

Slowly, you pushed the door to avoid the whining creak it always gave. Slipping through, you could feel your hands shake and your head spin. Jesus, you were in bad shape. This was the most amount of moving you had done in a while. 

Carefully, you headed down the hall toward the front desk of the block. Luck really was on your side today. As you peeked through the door window, you noticed that there was no one manning the desk. All that was left was a radio, a cell phone, a transmitter, a computer, and walkie talkies on chargers. You pushed the door open, the task taking more effort than it should have, and you picked up the phone. 

Dialing the secret number you knew by heart, you prayed that it would go through. It rang several times before you reached a voicemail prompt. You nearly wept when you heard Kate’s voice asking you to leave a message. You missed her.

Your voice cracked as you tried to summon it. It’s been a long time since you’ve used it for talking. Nowadays you’ve only used it for screaming. It was hoarse and broken. It hurt to speak. “Th-This is Spite. 5286. I’ve been a prisoner all this time. I-I don’t know where. I haven’t seen the light of day. . .”

“Please, bring me home. If that can’t happen. . .”

You swallowed hard and thought about your next words carefully. “I will hold out for two weeks. If no one comes for me, then I will take my own life by taking Bill Porakov’s life. I won’t go to the other side empty handed.”

Leaving the message at that, you hung up, erased the call history, and cautiously retreated back to your cell. Crawling into your concrete slab of a bed, you curled up and closed your eyes. You felt your cheeks become wet as you now waited for someone or no one to help you. 

Just before you began to drift off. You heard sounds coming down your hallway again. Heavy footsteps that identified your visitor. The warden. 

You felt his eyes on you, sizing you up in the corner of your cell. When he attempted to unlock the door, he noticed that it was unlocked already. Instead of becoming angry at his employees, he simply began to laugh. The other guards nervously began to join in. “Unlocked door and still a stationary prisoner. Have you lost hope finally? Good. It’ll make taming you a lot easier.”

~

The 141 team was getting out of a meeting. A boring one. One that went over statistics and facts about their own work that nearly put them to sleep. They never really cared about their accomplishments or results from a numbers perspective. Besides that, all the accomplishments they made nowadays felt tasteless. Ever since you died, all of their success never felt as good as before. 

The team was quiet, walking through base together under a bright afternoon sun. Soap was the first to speak in that thick Scottish accent of his. “How about the bar tonight, lads? I could go for a drink.”

There was no answer for a moment, everyone hesitant to accept the offer. The last time they went out to the usual bar, they did have a good time. Until Ghost glanced over at what used to be your chair. He always did that when he went out to the bar. When he noticed the absence, everybody else did too. 

Ghost took your death the hardest. You gave your life to save his. It was a debt that he could never repay. Besides that, you were one of the best of them. The wittiest sense of humor, the most encouraging and supportive in and outside the battlefield. The best cook too when you were sick of the base’s cafeteria food. 

Drinking only made him forget about you for a short while, but it was always an offer he took up when he was invited out to the bar. “Sure, Johnny.”

“Count me in then too.” Gaz chimed in. Price nodded as well, the both of them having had formulated a plan for the next bar outing. Something that would hopefully bring all of them a little more closure, especially Ghost. 

They were going to propose a memorial. They held one a week after you died, yet it didn’t feel quite right. It was too formal. Too stiff. It was organized by the military. Ghost didn’t even go. They needed to organize one themselves. One that you would approve of better.

They just had to make sure Ghost would attend. A discussion that would be saved for the bar tonight.

Just before Soap could open his mouth to say something, Price spotted Kate running full speed towards them, tears streaming down her face. She was shaking and breathing so hard that it looked like she was close to a panic attack. 

“Kate?! What’s wrong? What happened?” Price already began to ask, the team ready to spring into action. 

She took a few deep breaths, working up the courage to reveal the truth that almost had her faint when she first heard it. “S-Spite. . . She’s alive. . . She’s alive!”

Ghost felt his heart drop. His blood ran contradictory temperatures. Hot and cold. His breath was stuck in his lungs. He lost color under his mask. Then, he clenched his teeth. No, this couldn’t be true. You got shot in the head. There was no way you could have survived that.

“Are you sure Kate? How do you know?” Price calmly tried to reason, not wanting to hold out for false hope either.

Laswell just nodded and opened her phone. In a single tap, your voice came out broken but alive. 

The team was frozen as they listened to your cry for help followed by your fearless determination. If they had any doubts before that it was really you, those doubts no longer existed as you said something only you would say. That you wouldn’t die empty handed. 

“Spite. . . you spiteful bastard. . .” Soap choked, not afraid to shed a tear. 

Kate put her phone back in her pocket and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I’ll have my people trace the call back to the location.”

Price nodded before turning to his men. “Gear up! We got a soldier to save!”

As soon as the order was given, Ghost left the group to go to his room in the barracks. He had to pack. His mind was racing as he began taking a few extra socks from his dresser. He could hardly believe it. You were alive. You, the person always on his mind even after all this time had passed, was still living. 

He couldn’t imagine the shit you were going through. And he felt like it was his fault.

No matter what, he promised himself, he would bring you back home. Even if it cost him his life this time. 

~

You didn’t know how many days had passed. Porakov took you out of your solitary cell to keep in a new prison located in his office. It was a beautiful office with fresh flowers, polished furniture, and a white carpet. In your new cell, a modern door that needed keycard access locked you in the room. The room was all white except for one wall made out of bullet-proof glass for Porakov’s viewing pleasure. 

Somehow, you missed your old cell. 

As you sat in the corner of your new room, you watched Porakov through the glass. He was chatting with someone new. Someone that looked out of place with their white coat and round glasses. A doctor perhaps?

Your captor finally looked at you, making your skin crawl. He gave a malicious grin like a wolf that trapped its prey. The stranger looked at you too, a curious quirk in his brow.

They approached your door, unlocked it, and stepped inside. You kept to the corner, shrinking yourself as much as you could. “Well? What do you think? Can you do it?”

The doctor examined you further, adjusting his glasses on his face. “I think so. It’s going to take some time, though. Can you have this room ready for me within two hours with everything I need?”

“We actually have everything ready to roll out.” The warden smirked before leaning into his walkie talkie and summoning workers to bring out rolling tables of medical equipment into the room. 

You watched with steel eyes as they set the room up with all the medical equipment. A metal slab as if it came from a vet’s room took up the center. Microchips, a bonesaw, scalpels, and tweezers decorated the various trays. It took nearly no time at all to get whatever torture method Porakov planned set up. 

The doctor began to sanitize his hands. “Such diligence isn’t even demonstrated in regular hospitals.”

“This is a special day.” Your captor responded before leaving the room only to watch behind the glass. As the doctor approached, you braced yourself like a cornered wild animal. 

The doctor eased back, treating you as such. “It’s alright. I’m going to fix you up. Make you feel better. You want that, don’t you? I know you’ve been in pain for a long time.”

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You simply warned, refusing to believe a single word he said. If he was working for Porakov, that was enough of a reason not to trust him. No self-respecting doctor would even entertain the idea of working for a vile man like him. 

The doctor frowned at your disobedience. “If you fight this, it’s going to hurt way more.”

As his hand inched closer to you, you sprung forward and attempted to bite. He pulled back just in time before you could bite a finger off. He cursed and turned to the glass. “You said she was broken!”

“Seems like she still has a little fight left in her. Apologies, doctor. It’s okay if you have to be rough with her. Teach her who’s boss.” The warden simply encouraged.

With a sigh, he revealed a small gun strapped to his belt. It wasn’t a regular gun. It was a tranquilizer gun. Realizing what was about to happen, you tried to get to your feet as quickly as you could, but it was too late. Your lack of proper body care made you lose your balance. A sharp pain hit your shoulder, a dart sticking out of you. Your vision already began to haze over, your body feeling heavier than ever before. Whatever was in the tranquilizer was enough to make you ragdoll, but not enough to put you to sleep. 

They wanted you awake for this.

Your limp body was lifted onto the table, giving Porakov a clear view of the show that was about to begin. 

It felt like you were beginning to disassociate. Tears escaped as you wished that you were dead instead of being here. Being treated like a rabid animal and a personal show made you sick. Dying alone in your cell would be better than this. 

Something caught Porakov’s attention for a moment. He seemed to be yelling at someone. It looked urgent. Before he left to handle business, he told the doctor to continue his work.

The doctor simply shrugged and focused back on you. He took a scalpel and began to make an incision along the palm of your hand. You felt the chill of the blade meet your hot blood, nerves going off as if you were touching a hot stove. You hissed and groaned at the pain, refusing to give him anymore than this if you could help it. 

But then, he began to dig around under your skin using the tweezers, shredding nerves and muscles like pulling apart thread. As he pinched your nerves directly, you screamed. A bloodcurdling scream that ripped apart your vocal chords. 

Ignoring your cries, he took a microchip and settled it between your flesh. It suddenly clicked for you. He was rewiring you. Finding your nerves like hidden wires to connect to microchips that were programmed to do god knows what to your body. 

Your mind went berserk, screaming at you to get out of there. To fight back. Adrenaline fought tranquilizer for control as your hand was being ripped apart from the inside. Your heart beated within your ears as you find the energy to grab a spare scalpel from the tray and swipe it along the doctor’s neck, letting gravity and momentum carry out your attack.

You heard the sound of him choking on blood, his tools clattering to the floor as he struggled to get his bleeding under control. Rolling off the table, you hit the ground hard with your hip. The breath that was knocked out of you made your head spin. You used to take most pain like a champ. Now, everything felt like your were getting hit by a truck. 

It didn’t stop you from trying to reorientate yourself, your bleeding, open hand clutching your head. When you finally managed to stand back up, the doctor was staggering to get out of the room. Taking advantage of his state of weakness, you took the bonesaw and prepared to ruin his hand like he tried to do to yours.

The doctor stumbled onto the pristine carpet of Porakov, staining it with his blood. As you got closer with the saw, his gurgles became more strained. Begging for mercy. Adrenaline was kicking in full swing now as you became engulfed in rageful flames. You took a flower vase to your left and threw it, hitting him square in the knees. While he was knocked down, you stepped on one of his wrists.

He had no choice but to take it unless he wanted to bleed out, his other hand still holding the wound. Without remorse, you began sawing off his left hand. Within a few seconds, you didn’t even hear the strained mixture of gurgles and screams anymore. You didn’t hear anything anymore as you just sawed away, taking out your time of suffering out on someone you thought deserved to die.

By the time the hand was detached, the doctor was already long gone. Your hands were shaking and you were exhausted. Everything was still mute, the sound of your heavy breath taking over your ears. 

It was the smell of gunpowder that snapped your attention to the exit. It was an undeniable scent. Something big was going on. Perhaps you were finally getting rescued.

You took a step towards the door before stopping altogether, the door suddenly slammed open to reveal a bloody, panicked Porakov. He clutched his side that was staining his uniform in blood. The strap he usually carried was missing. 

Adrenaline came rushing back as you were presented with your chance for revenge. Your step forward brought his attention to you. His eyes widened in fear. The animal was out of her cage. 

Behind him, heavy footsteps approached. The door slammed open again, this time revealing a face that you never thought you’d get to see again. Blue eyes behind a dark skull. Your heart almost collapsed in on itself as you took him in. Even with the black paint around his eyes, you could tell that he was tired despite the rage. 

Most of his anger melted away as Ghost saw you. Dehydrated and malnourished beyond belief. Bloody and sunken in. Eyes full of a mix of emotions that he wished he could ask about.

You looked back at your warden, shaking in his boots like a coward. This pathetic man that tortured you to the point of such weakness was now silently praying for mercy. 

“Hold him down for me.” You ordered Ghost, your voice darker than the depths of the ocean. 

He didn’t think you should be exerting yourself over anything, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny your order. You needed this. He wanted to give it to you.

A bullet hit Porakov’s knee, making sure he wouldn’t struggle too much for what you were about to do. As he screamed, Ghost settled himself in his office chair, tying him down with some spare duct tape he always kept on him. 

You approached the desk, steadying yourself with your hands. Your left hand was beginning to feel numb by the second, nerves shredded like old newspaper after using both hands to work the saw. Your right hand was missing your pinkie finger. 

“I’m going to make you wish you’ve never been born.” You simply stated, taking back up the bonesaw. Ghost silently watched you bring the serrated blades down on Porakov’s fingers, amazed that your desire for revenge was enough to give your body energy. He supposed that that was one of the things he missed about you. Your unwavering determination to see something through. 

For this, you made sure to tune in in order to hear all the cries your warden had as you took all of his fingers. It was a sound you dreamed of hearing. This moment was what you’ve been waiting for. 

Yet, your heart seemed to remain empty as you watched his fingers fall to the rug. You didn’t stop until all of his fingers were gone, but it all still felt so hollow. You thought if you could get your revenge, you would get your closure. So why wasn’t this as enjoyable as you thought it would be?

Sobs filled the space when you were done. The man you resented shriveled in his seat as he wept for his lost body parts. You clenched your jaw, feeling yourself fill with a cold, angry flame. “Lock him in the cell over there.”

“Wh-What?! Y-You can’t! What about food and water?!” He began to shout, squirming in his chair as Ghost rolled him into the cell. You were lucky that he couldn’t care less about doing the military-right thing. To both of you, this was the right thing to do.

“You are going to die cold, sad, and alone in that cell. I’ll guarantee it.” You promised, watching Ghost situate him in the far corner. He noticed the medical tools scattered around along with the metal medical table. The thought of you strapped down, screaming and losing pieces of your life with each cut made him want to beat the shit out of Porakov. But, it wasn’t what you wanted for him. 

He left and closed the room before giving you space to lock it. As the both of you looked through the glass, taking one last sight of Porkav, you said your final goodbye. “Fuck you, Warden.”

Ghost followed behind as you began to leave, your adrenaline dying back down much faster than you expected. You were downright lethargic when you closed the door to the office, locking it behind you. “Break that shit. Make sure it will be locked for good.”

“Spi-”

“Now, Simon!” You snapped, not meaning to take your pain out on him. In response, he bit his tongue and followed your order. He just wished he could hear you call his name without so much hurt behind it.

As you heard him break the locking mechanism, you leaned against the wall, your vision swirling. Everything began to get hazy and dark, something pulling you into either death or sleep. You couldn’t fight it this time, your body exhausted from all the fighting you’ve spent months doing. 

Ghost turned around as soon as he heard your body hit the floor, out cold. “Spite? Y/n?!”

He took you up in his arms and felt your pulse. Slow, but alive. He didn’t know where your blood began and enemy blood ended. You were so much lighter than what he remembered too.

It should’ve been him to get caught.

Carrying you in his arms, he radioed for evac. This time, you would get on that helicopter and be taken home, safe and sound. He would make sure of it.

~

You didn’t wake up for a while. A long while. By the time you did, you were a fraction into recovering from surgeries already. They fixed up your hand as best the doctors could, they got you on IVs and nourishment. They even had a dentist come in to replace any missing teeth. 

The only thing they couldn’t fix or replace was your pinkie finger. That was something you had to live with for the rest of your life now. A constant reminder of what happened. At least you could wear certain clothes to cover up your numerous scars. It was impossible to comfortably hide a missing finger. 

Ghost never left your room. Everyone took turns visiting you, even in your unconscious state. He stayed, though, the entire time. 

He did everything for you that the nurses couldn’t. Making sure you were comfortable with blankets and pillow changes, making sure you had fresh flowers in your hospital room. He even played music he knew you liked, just in case you could somehow hear the world around you. 

Anything to make up for being the one to take his bullet, he would do.

It was a sight for sore eyes when you finally opened them and saw him. Your throat was parched and sore, but you still spoke out to get his attention from a book he was reading. “Ghost?”

“Spite.” He immediately looked up. Jesus, you could cry. In fact, you did start to cry. 

Tears began to travel down your cheeks. “I. . . I thought I’d never see you again. . .”

He took your right hand in his, a gesture that he has never done before, but not unwelcome. His hand was large, warm, and. . . perfect. “Me too, dove. We thought we lost you.”

“I did get shot in the head.” You justified, already trying to bring some easiness back with some dark humor. 

Ghost missed your humor so much. It was easy to match. “You’ll have to show me how to do that party trick.”

You gave a short snicker. “You just gotta get a metal plate installed in your head. Wouldn’t recommend it, though. Hurts like hell.”

He finally gave a laugh, the first time since he lost you. Squeezing your hand tighter, he prepared the words that he actually wanted to say for when you woke up. “You took that bullet for me. It should have been me, but you took it. I-”

You interrupted him, already knowing where this was going. “Stop. You would’ve done the same for any of us. That’s what it means to trust each other with our lives. You don’t owe me shit for it, okay?”

Before Ghost could reply, the door to your hospital room opened. Your nurse stepped in with some new IV bags and blankets. She was taken aback as she noticed that you were awake. It didn’t take long for the doctor to rush in and for Ghost to get kicked out. 

While he waited, he contacted the team to let them know that you were finally awake. They wasted no time in rushing over to see how you were doing, eager to see who they thought was dead. As soon as the doctor gave them the all clear, you were bombarded with the affection of your team. 

For a moment, it made you forget about the horrors of your capture. 

The fun was spoiled when the doctor came back into the room. The immediate question on everyone’s mind was regarding your stay.

“How long until I can get discharged?” You asked, eager to go back home without thinking too much about it. After the words left your mouth though, you realized that you probably didn’t have a home to go back to. Shit, all of your stuff was probably gone since you were declared dead. . . 

“If everything goes smoothly, we can send you out tomorrow. However, you’ll need a lot of time to recover. We’re going to recommend physical therapy, some new medications, and a therapy recommendation. What you went through is something you should process with time. Do you have anyone that could help take care of you at home?”

You became silent and bit your lip. Before you were assumed to be dead, you didn’t really get along with your family. Knowing your family, they probably rejoiced over your death before immediately going over your will. You would’ve loved to be a fly on that wall. 

And now that you were apparently still alive, you wondered how they would respond to asking for your stuff back. That was going to be something.

With no family, no home, and a list of things to do now that you were back, you began to get a headache. Just as you were about to explain the situation, though, Ghost chimed up.

“I’ll take care of her.”

Your eyes widened at the idea of Ghost being by your side for essentially twenty-four hours a day. “I already told you that you don’t owe me shit.”

He shook his head. “I’m not volunteering because of guilt.”

Now Price was the one to speak up. “It won’t have to be all on Ghost. We can take turns visiting and keeping an eye on you. Hell, we’ll take care of the hard tasks too while you recover.”

Feeling your headache become stronger triggered by new stress, you give up quickly. You were too tired to argue. “Fine.”

“Great! We’ll continue to monitor you and ensure you’ll be ready for discharge soon.”

~

You awkwardly waited in Ghost’s car as he prepared your wheelchair. Your legs were weak, but not unusable. For a brief moment, you argued with him about using a cane to help you walk. He was pretty insistent that you still took it very easy to the point that it was hard to say no.

Once he opened your car door, you got into the chair and looked up at the tall apartment complex. You wondered which floor was Ghost’s as he wheeled you in. 

“You’ll be using my room while I sleep on the pullout couch. If you need help getting around anywhere, just ask. Price and Kate will visit later to discuss some options.” He explained as if he was going through a checklist. 

“Options?”

He shrugged. “Job options. Living options.”

As he pushed you into the elevator, you began to panic. Job options? Did they intend on letting you go? Yeah, you were pretty fucked at the moment, but you just needed some time to get back in shape. You really don’t want to lose your job. Despite everything that happened, you still wanted to be part of the team. 

With each ding of the elevator indicating a passing floor, you got more and more nervous. Ghost looked down at you, noticing how hard you were gripping your seat. His eyes couldn’t help but notice your missing finger on one hand and limp strength for the other. A sting in his chest had him look away.

He wasn’t letting you live with him out of guilt, but he was still sorry that this happened to you.

The elevator doors finally opened on the highest floor, revealing a long hallway leading to only a few doors. At the farthest end of the corridor, Ghost reached the apartment. A blast of refreshing A/C hit your senses first. The further he wheeled you in, the more you began to notice more.

His whole place was tidy and organized, a fact that contradicted what you remember about him. From what you remember, the guy was a mess. His desk at work was always crowded with paperwork, empty mugs of tea, and sticky notes meant to remind him on what to do next. 

The sweet smell of pipe tobacco and vanilla spread across the environment, a few plug-in air fresheners scattered around. It made your anxiety melt as you became more familiar with the scent you used to smell everyday on Ghost. 

He parked you near his polished dining table and placed a laptop in front of you. Your old laptop. “I’m gonna get some lunch started. I figure that you want some time to see what you missed?”

You nodded and booted up the laptop with your better hand. Your hand with damaged nerves needed some therapy focus before it could be fully functional again. “Thanks, Ghost. I appreciate this.”

“Of course.” He responded as he wandered off into his kitchen. A little window viewing the dining room allowed him to monitor you while he cooked. As we figured out what to make, he stared at you from a distance.

Color was returning back to your face. You were still light, but he would put some meat back on those bones soon. There was a shine back in your eyes that brought him back to those fun nights at the bar with you. He remembered your smile, your laugh, your gaze.

He remembered how you used to talk about cooking, one of your favorite things to do, whenever he had a moment alone with you. It was one of the things that made you light up. Ghost would sit there for hours, listening to you talk about what you’ve made, what you want to make, a new technique you want to try, how you should be in charge of the mess hall.

Deciding lunch, he shifted his focus on cooking, already predicting that it wasn’t going to be half as good as your cooking.

While you heard the sound of pots and pans clanging together, your hands ached. There was a phantom knife in your hand, waiting to start chopping vegetables that didn’t exist. For a moment, you willed your hands to move like you were entering prep-mode. 

Your wrist quickly gave out within a few motions of pretend chopping. Not to mention that your left hand refused to curl your fingers in right. 

When will you be able to cook like you did again?

When will everything feel normal again?

The knock on the door snapped you out of your pity party. Ghost answered it and directed Price and Kate to you, as promised. Kate gave you a pearly smile and Price gave you a warm pat on the shoulder. 

They took their seats and then immediately dived into the grit. Ghost eavesdropped from the kitchen. “We don’t want to bullshit you, Spite. There are a lot of things that need to happen before you can return to your job. We can’t even give you desk duty until you do a few things first.”

You crossed your arms over her chest, not liking where this was going. “Like what?”

Kate passed over a manilla folder containing various paperwork sheets and tests. “First, we would need to interview you. Ask you about what happened while you were imprisoned.”

A scoff escaped your lips. “You wanna know if I opened my mouth about anything.”

“We know you didn’t and you never would. A team sent with us when we came to rescue you collected whatever evidence and intel they could get their hands on. They found recordings of your interrogations. We’re going through them now to make sure you kept certain things confidential.” Price reassured, already sensing that you were beginning to stress out.

You understood why it had to be done. It just made you sick to your stomach that your torture was being looked at solely for the purpose of checking to see if you were a good soldier. “Who’s reviewing the recordings?”

“Professionals. But they want your testimony too.” Kate vaguely elaborated, trying to move past this already.

You didn’t let up, though. Instead, you asked for something that shocked the both of them. Even Ghost who was chopping onions paused mid-cut. “Can I choose someone from the team to review them instead?”

“Why would you want that?”

“I don’t want a couple of strangers viewing something as intimate as my torture. I would rather have someone I know I can trust see those recordings.” You justified, not thinking much about the weight of that request. 

Kate and Price looked between each other, silently debating on if they should honor your request. There was a concern of conflict of interest, but then again, the 141 got a few special privileges. Price cleared his throat. “Who would you want to see the recordings?”

The obvious answer should have been Kate, but it wasn’t. In fact, you really didn’t want Kate to look at any part of your torture. You didn’t even think she could stomach it. She was capable and tough like the rest of you, but she worked more from the shadows to save her from horrendous bloodshed. 

There were only three people that you felt like could handle it. Price, Ghost, and yourself. Like hell they were going to let you see your own footage though. “Would you and Ghost mind?”

Price gave it some deep thought before nodding. “I can do it if that’s what you want. Ghost?”

Ghost wasn’t surprised that Price knew he was eavesdropping. “I’ll do it.”

Kate immediately closed that part of the conversation. “Well that’s that. Next, we have to retest you in multiple areas. Physical, mental, shooting range, the whole works. Some of the intelligence based tests can be done sooner, but the rest will have to wait until you are physically fit again.”

“That could take weeks.” You grumbled, already getting impatient with your recovery process. 

“We have time. Outside of work tasks, anything that should take priority in your personal life. Besides the basics, of course.” Price switched topics, hoping that will brighten your mood a little. 

You did like bossing them around when you had the chance. With a smirk, you began rattling off all the things you needed them to do for you. “Contact my lawyer and family. Gotta get that sorted out and hopefully get some stuff back if my folks haven’t tossed anything out yet. And if I don’t have to be the one to do it, the better. That’s probably the first major errand. Most of the other things will have to wait until the basics are done.”

“I do want my favorite brand of coffee here. Sorry, Ghost, but your coffee is shit.” You spoke a little louder, making sure that Ghost could hear you. Doing so made your throat already feel sore, but it was worth it when you got to here a chuckle back.

“Tell me how you really feel.” He smiled beneath the mask as he pushed the diced veggies into a large pot filled with chicken stock. The aroma of chicken soup was making you salivate. 

Kate and Price eased up from your humor too as they added your coffee request to their list. After a few more minutes of chatter, they said goodbye so you could enjoy lunch. It was a good thing too because you were hungry and your voice was getting sore.

Ghost finished up the simple chicken noodle soup. Carrots, onions, celery, leftover shredded chicken melded together in a stock that was sure to be nutritious yet easy on your recovering stomach. When he served you a bowl, you nearly cried at how good it looked. 

With a shaky hand, you lifted your spoon and took a taste. Before you knew it, you began to silently cry. Ghost, who returned to the table with his own bowl, began to panic at your tears. “It doesn’t taste good?”

“This is the best meal I’ve ever had.” You sobbed, recalling all of the shitty, bland food and starvation you had to deal with. To you, this simple chicken soup was heaven on earth. 

Ghost didn’t know what to say, think, or feel for a moment. He didn’t expect such high praise, even if your reasoning was something he could guess. He settled for a proud, simple response. “Thanks. Take your time.”

Silently, you ate, savoring every ounce of flavor that graced your tastebuds. The egg noodles were perfectly al dente, the carrots were tender, and the chicken pieces were easy to swallow. Miraculously, it sparked a deep hunger for more food. But, you still needed to take it easy. If you ate the portion size you did before capture now, you would lose such a delicious lunch. 

“Why did you choose me to review your footage?” Ghost suddenly asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He was content with watching you eat so gratefully, yet the memories of the conversation before lunch still haunted him.

Your hand stopped moving the spoon within the bowl. You didn’t expect him to ask something like that. Normally, he just followed orders. “I think you would handle seeing it better than others. Not gonna lie, there is probably some gnarly stuff on those tapes.”

His stomach twisted into knots at the mention. He would still do this for you, of course, but he probably wasn’t going to be as strong as you thought he was about it.

 It was your torture after all. 

~

Adjustment was going smoothly. There were some hiccups here and there, but you soon got used to Ghost taking care of you. He got used to relinquishing more control over to you as well. You quickly graduated to only needing a walking cane occasionally thanks to your dedication to physical therapy. Your hands needed more work, but at least you could get around the apartment with ease. 

When you earned your achievement of free walking, you got more bossy and impatient. It was something Ghost was able to handle it since you delivered it with humor and hard work, but he soon began to notice dips in your mood here and there. 

He has been adamant about sleeping on the couch while you took his room. Since you began walking, you have tried to change that sleeping arrangement to no avail. Everytime you looked at the couch, a brief flash of guilt went over your face. 

He would catch you looking at your hands a lot, willing them to do more than just twitch and shake. Your brow would furrow in frustration when you practiced holding different movements and weights. Occasionally, you would hiss from pain as you tried to force progress. It became routine for him to end up holding your hands to make sure you gave yourself a break. 

The other issue that was hard to resolve was your night terrors. Ghost thought his nightmares were bad, but they seemed like nothing compared to how you would scream in the middle of the night. It would always startle him awake. He would always rush to the door to calm you down. You would always tremble and cry in his arms. 

You couldn’t go back to sleep unless Ghost was with you, his arms tight around your body and holding you close to his chest. The sound of his heartbeat became a lullaby that always made you regain your breathing.

The more he took care of you, the more he began to notice things about you. He was getting closer to you than ever before as he spent time with you every day. Sure, he was looking out for you, but it didn’t feel like a chore. Having you live with him became such a natural sight to him. It was like you always belonged there. 

So it really unnerved him when he was finally called to review your footage. 

You said goodbye to him when he left for base. For the first time, you were alone. Ghost gave you strict instructions to take it easy, forbidding you from certain activities while he was gone. However, you paid no mind to his warning, eager to normalize your life even more. 

The feeling of the chef’s knife in your palm was a familiar weight that brought back so many memories. You had been wanting to get back into cooking earlier, but Ghost always scolded you and said you weren’t ready yet. 

You planned on proving him wrong by cooking dinner for tonight. Something simple and comforting. Pasta with a homemade sauce. 

Your dreams felt like they were shattering as you struggled to open the tomato can with the opener though. The strength it took made your hands ache almost immediately. Having the strength to push the weight of the blade down into the garlic was agony too. Even with a sharp knife, you were having such a hard time doing what was meant to be easy.

Only thirty minutes had passed after Ghost left when you ended up lying on the kitchen floor, crying for your hands to work again and for a life you lost. 

Meanwhile, Ghost was just arriving on base. He wondered if you were doing alright. He hoped you weren’t pushing yourself while he was gone. Damn, he should’ve asked Gaz or Soap to watch you. He didn’t want to treat you like a child, but he knew you well enough that you were probably doing something you weren’t supposed to. 

That’s how you got your call sign in the first place. 

“Lieutenant Ghost, you ready?” Price ushered him into a secured, private room. Soundproof, dark, and void of any windows. Various tapes sat on a table next to a small TV. Ghost grabbed a chair and settled in, trying to relax as much as he can. 

“Pay attention, try to stay unbiased, and keep this confidential. We can only talk about this with each other, Spite, and the investigation leaders.” Price ordered like a captain. Resolute and sharp. Despite the confidence in his voice, your captain was afraid. He didn’t want to see one of his best sergeants get tortured. 

Ghost was trying to steel himself for it too. “Yes, Captain.”

With that, Price hit play and took the small seat next to Ghost. The footage began with the first day you were captured. You were stirring unconscious, strapped to a chair, and bleeding out of the side of your head where you got shot. The scene already had Ghost simmering with rage and sorrow.

He watched as you woke up, met your warden, and then immediately took a molar from you with swift punches to the jaw. He watched you spit the blood back in his face, growl threats he could never repeat, and then have your knees shattered with a sledgehammer. 

It was clear that it hurt. That it was agony. The way your lungs gasped for air. The way you bit back your screams only to echo within your throat. The way you lost consciousness for a moment only to wake up from immense pain as they cut you. 

And yet, you didn’t say a word. You never mentioned your name. Never revealed who you were with and why. You didn’t let anything get past your locked lips.

Porakov punished your resilience with more torture. Ten minutes in and it was already getting too much for Ghost to handle. How could anyone survive this? How did you? 

His stomach turned as he watched the day you lost your pinkie finger. You were getting noticeably weaker and skinnier with each new day on the tape. Your knee was still healing. Porakov only took advantage of this as he pushed you around. 

None of his questions got answers. Not a single one. Not even when the gardening shears pinched around your delicate finger. 

Ghost almost threw up when he witnessed the final cut. You screamed, but you didn’t cry. You never did. At least, not in front of Porakov. It wasn’t until everyone left you in the cell that you let your pain turn into tears. And it absolutely broke his heart.

Feeling lightheaded, Ghost began to reach for the pause button on the TV. Price beat him to it, though. “I think that’s enough for today. Thought I could sit through what I allotted for this, but this is hard to watch. Even for me. Sorry, Lieutenant.”

After scheduling the next time to watch more footage, Ghost rushed back to his car to drive home. How could he have left you home by yourself after everything that’s been done to you?! You stayed optimistic and humorous most of the time, but there was no way you were really okay. No one would be okay if they went through what you went through.

There was still months of footage left to sift through.

Not caring about the risks of getting pulled over, Ghost sped along the highway leading back home. He began trying to call you, hoping that your new phone that the team got you was working fine. 

When you didn’t answer, he tried again, the pit in his soul becoming darker and bigger. He shouldn’t have left you home alone. 

He stopped trying after the tenth calling attempt. Instead, he focused on speeding faster. He got back to the apartment within record time. When he slammed the door open, he began looking for you.

His terror amplified as he found you on the kitchen floor, knife laying next to you and dinner prep unfinished. Your cheeks were stained with tears and your eyes were staring off into the distance. The light in your eyes was gone. Just like the day you ordered for your warden to be killed.

You didn’t remember when the panic attack started. Somewhere in the middle of your grief perhaps. It completely crippled you. Plunged you into such a horrible memory that you were desperately trying to forget. Your breath was stolen and your heart ached as if you pushed a knife into it. 

Afterwards, you dissociated. You couldn’t register the cold tiles beneath you. You couldn’t remember what you were doing in the first place. You didn’t even hear your phone go off or Ghost rushing into the house. 

Warmth stirred you back to the land of the living, Ghost’s arms wrapping tight around you. An unfamiliar sensation buried into the crook of your neck. The feeling of light stubble and shaky breaths. It was then that you realized that he had taken off his mask to bury his face into you. 

Slowly, you wrapped your sore arms around his broad shoulders. The natural, sweet scent of you just made him feel the need to hold you tighter. Closer. 

He never wanted to leave your side again. 

“Is this hug for me? Or for you?” You half-joked, returning to your usual self with a sore voice. 

His shoulders relaxed as he heard your question. Relief soon morphed into anger as he realized that you tried to do without him there. It was hard for him to keep his voice from rising. “I told you to take it easy. I thought something happened to you.”

You flinched back, not expecting to be scolded so soon. “I just thought-”

“The only thoughts you should be having is about recovering.” He pulled back from the hug, allowing you to really see his face up close. 

You had only seen his face a couple of times before your capture. You had served with the 141 for under a year, so it made sense why you didn’t get to see it often. But now that you could really get a good look, your heart skipped a beat and a blush slowly crept along your cheeks. 

His eyes were much brighter without the mask already. Flecks of black warpaint revealed blond lashes that matched his light locks. His jaw looked like it was carved from quartz and a few scars only gave character to his strong features. 

Fuck, your old, childish crush on him was beginning to resurface at the worst possible moment.

You swallowed hard and averted your gaze. The hammering of your heart made it hard to figure out what to say next. “Sorry. . .”

Ghost gave a deep sigh, raking a large hand through his hair. Seeing the guilt in your eyes made him feel like he fucked up. He shouldn’t be making you feel like this. “No, Spite. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Not only that, but seeing your tapes followed by you not answering the phone and then looking dead on the floor had him think the worst. Though, he wasn’t ready to saddle you with that burden. You needed comfort and stability. 

Gently, he cupped your cheek, guiding your gaze back up to his. Your breath hitched as he did, his touch now feeling like electricity. “What were you trying to make?”

“Pasta. . .” 

“You really want to get back into cooking?”

At that, you gave a firm nod. It would be something that would make you feel better. Normal. Even if it was just for a moment. You really needed to create something with your hands. 

Ghost couldn’t deny you. Not when you made such a beautifully, determined expression.  

Carefully, he stood up and helped you get back on your feet. The knife on the floor was put into the sink. A new chef’s knife was placed in your hand. Before you could ask what he was doing, he positioned you in front of the cutting board, stood close behind you to the point where your back was touching his chest, and he held his hands over yours. “Let me know if you start to hurt. You can lean back on me if you need it too.”

Now your heart was really racing. The whirlwind shift of emotions made you lightheaded. How could you switch from a panic attack to feeling lovesick? How could you still have a crush on him after all this time? 

It took you a moment to relax under his touch and allow him to use your hands to cut the garlic. The heat of his chest seeped into your back as he cautiously guided the cooking process with you in the middle. When he spoke up, his voice so close to your ear, you nearly fainted. “You feeling alright?”

“Y-Yeah. . . I’m fine. Thanks, Ghost.” You stuttered out, feeling embarrassed by the proximity. 

“You know, you can call me Simon when it’s just me and you, dove.” He allowed, feeling the heat of your own body rise against his chest. He couldn’t see your face clearly, but he could tell that your ears were turning red. 

It stirred something deep within himself.

Your brain short-circuited when he gave you permission to use his real name. You had only used it when you needed him to understand your serious intentions. It wasn’t something you took lightly. Now, he wanted you to call him that more intimately. 

At first, you didn’t know if you could bring yourself to do it. You couldn’t until you realized that all of the cloves of garlic were minced perfectly, your hands still able to take a little more cooking. “Seriously. Thank you, Simon.”

His heart leapt when you used his name like he wanted. “Of course, dove. Anything for you.” 

Simon didn’t move an inch away from you until everything was ready to get tossed onto the stove. When the prep work was done, you had excused yourself to go rest, allowing him to finish dinner. 

He let you go, but he really didn’t want to. He could never let you go now. Especially not when you were definitely blushing over him. 

It wasn’t that you needed rest from cooking. You needed rest from Simon. A minute to get your heartbeat under control. This wasn’t like you. You were confident, resilient, strong, spiteful. Not gooey and bashful. 

Only Ghost could make you feel this way. 

You had a crush on him when you first met the team. It was the air of mystery that drew you to him first. His sense of humor, confidence, and intelligence that matched yours drew you in deeper. He had said that he was actually quite handsome under the mask, and you believed him during that time. 

That’s all you tried to leave it at, though. A silly little crush. Being in the presence of a strong, muscular, and confident man would make anyone feel weak in the knees. That’s what you told yourself when you were stomping out your feelings for the sake of professionalism. 

It worked too. After snuffing out that crush, you grew to be a friend to him. He trusted you more and you trusted him. There was nothing in the world that would make you trade over the friendship you had with him. With anyone on your team. It was the right thing to do at the time and it still was. 

So why the hell were you falling in love with him all over again?

~

You chalked it up to being locked up for too long. Of course your heart would begin to sway towards Ghost. He’s been taking care of you and you’ve been living with him and he’s the first man you’ve been spending time with. Now that you realize this, snuffing out your feelings again shouldn’t be so hard.

Keyword: Shouldn’t.

Ghost made it really difficult for you to maintain some space from him. You have been adamant about healing through cooking. He’s been adamant about being with you every step of the way. Holding you between his arms in case you feel faint, guiding your hands when you don't have the strength, speaking directly into your ear when he wants to talk to you. 

Everytime he came back from base, his clinginess increased tenfold. You knew that he was coming back from watching your footage. But you didn’t want to be pitied or the center of any guilt he may have. 

“How are you feeling? Are you ready for your interview, dove?” Simon hovered near his bedroom door, watching you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You have been looking a lot better after these couple of months. You gained a wealthy weight, you were getting around much better, and some of your strength returned to your muscles. 

It was still a ways to go before you could go out onto the field again, but it was a good start. Besides the night terrors that still haunted you, you were beginning to look like your old self.

At least, that’s what it looked like to him. You, on the other hand, were beginning to stress about how you looked. It felt good for your body to be getting back on the right track, yet you found imperfections. Things you had to be patient about such as your hair. 

The doctors had to cut it in order to put a new metal plate back in your head. Your hair was growing back decently fast, but not fast enough to your liking. Besides the hair, you were covered in scars that weren’t fading anytime soon. Probably never with how deep they went. 

“Dove?”

Simon snapped you out of your stupor. “H-Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m ready to go.”

“That’s not what I asked. You can talk to me about anything, you know?” Simon stepped forward, hoping to cure your sudden anxiety. 

“Sorry, just a little distracted I guess.” You brushed off. It would be embarrassing to tell him how you felt ugly right now. The last thing you wanted to do was fish for compliments too. 

Simon knew you were lying, but he dropped it. Instead, he followed you out of the apartment and drove you to the interview. On the way there, you let the radio fill the silence between the two of you.

He gripped the steering wheel tight, wondering why the hell you were so distant from him all of a sudden. The two of you were getting along great when you first arrived. Now, you were locking yourself up in his bedroom a lot more, speaking to him less, and had your head in the clouds when he was trying to talk to you. 

Did he do something wrong? Make you feel bad about something? He thought you liked him.

The car pulled up onto the base, a place you haven’t seen for a long time. Everything looked like how you remembered. Military grays, greens, and browns. Recruits jogging around. The smell of cigarette smoke in the air. It almost seemed like nothing had changed.

Price greeted you halfway to the interview and then escorted you to it. It was the same room they used to examine your footage, the tapes finally over. You sat in a seat across from a woman in a business suit. 

Price and Simon were ordered to stay out in the hall and wait. As they waited for you, Simon thought about getting back in your good graces. 

“She alright? She seemed more quiet than usual on the walk.” Price suddenly spoke up, also curious about the trouble in paradise. 

“Don’t know. She hasn’t told me anything about what’s been bothering her.” He confessed, an annoyed tone lacing with his words. 

The captain hummed in thought. “Has she taken that offer to see a therapist?”

“Nope. Only the physical therapist. You think she needs it?” 

“It wouldn’t hurt. I think it would be good for her to really unpackage everything that went down before we put a gun back in her hands. Someone that’s a professional.”

Simon gave it some thought. As much as he wanted to be the one you turned to to talk about your feelings, he agreed that you would most likely feel better talking to a professional. He wasn’t necessarily equipped to provide both comfort and trauma solving. 

Hell, he probably needs therapy too.

He figured that he would suggest the idea when the two of you return home. Let you sleep on it. 

You exited the room after about an hour. The interview took much longer than you expected, but they were thorough. No detail was to be left unspoken. It was a wonder how you managed to talk about everything that happened without breaking down. Perhaps it was because you did really want your job back. The more capable you seemed, the more likely they would give it to you.

After a quick stop visiting Gaz and Soap, Simon took you back to the apartment. You entered the space so naturally that it felt like it was your home. Simon even let you buy some decor to make the place more comfortable for you that you could take to your new apartment, whenever that would be available. 

Before Simon could invite you to sit on the couch with him for a moment to talk, you had already closed the door to the bedroom. The interview left you tired. It was still taking a while to get your voice used to talking again. 

As you crossed the space, you noticed your reflection in the mirror. You looked the same from when you left. Maybe a little bit more exhausted, but still the same, unflattering body you wished was completely back to normal already.

There was a soft knock on the door. You didn’t register it as you just sat on the floor, looking at your reflection and wondering what you could do to make yourself feel pretty again. Since you didn’t answer, Simon slowly opened the door. 

“Dove? What’s wrong?” He cautiously asked, not wanting to startle you. 

You gave a deep sigh that even he felt in his soul. “Just. . . missing the me from before.”

His shoulders felt lighter in relief. He was so glad that you were talking to him again. However, It was souring quickly now that your words were settling in. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. . . I guess. . . I thought that I was decently pretty before. I was happy with how I looked. . . I don’t really see that anymore.” You tried to explain, feeling your throat begin to choke on each word. God, you felt stupid.

Simon could hardly believe it. To him, you were still the prettiest lady he’s ever met. Your smile made his day brighter. Your hands felt warm and perfect in his. Your eyes were works of art he could stare into all day. 

He was in love with you.

“W-What?” Your face grew red, not understanding why he was staring so intensely at you. So seriously. It’s been a while since you’ve faced him this close. Did he think you were being dumb too? 

He took a seat behind you on the floor and pulled you into his lap. An arm snaked across your stomach before you could escape. His other hand guided your chin to look back into the mirror. “Take a good look at yourself again, dove. Don’t tell me that you’re not pretty anymore because it’s not true.”

Your heart was going to burst from your chest. If you stay like this with him for much longer, it would be impossible to destroy your feelings for him. “Si-”

“Your cheeks are turning pink. Are you getting embarrassed?” He tightened his hold and deepened his voice. He would do anything to make you feel attractive again. Including revealing that he was attracted to you.

As he pointed out your blush, you only reddened deeper. “T-This is because you surprised me!”

“Oh? It’s not because you like me?” He teased, not being able to help himself. Before everything, you were so confident and enthusiastic at work. He never got to see your bashful side. It was incredibly cute. 

You froze in his lap as he revealed your secret. How long has he known?! Was he just toying with you right now?! This was not how you imagined a confession going at all, not that you ever really planned on confessing. 

Turning your head to face him directly, you attempted to dig out of the hole you were in. “Simon-”

“You’re too cute.” He suddenly admitted before pressing his lips firmly against yours. He lost control as soon as he saw your expression up close within his lap. The way your brows furrowed, how your ears turned more pink by the second, how you called him by his name. 

There was no way in hell he was going to make you feel unattractive right now. 

Startled by the kiss, it took you a moment to realize what was happening. When your brain did kick back into gear, you could hardly believe it. Simon was kissing you. Not just that, but he was kissing you so deeply that it made you melt.

You couldn’t possibly fight back your feelings for him now. 

Eventually, you began kissing him back. When he felt your effort, he took that as a good sign to keep going. Your lips were so soft and warm against his. Your weight in his embrace felt perfect. His tongue swiped at your lips and then plunged into your mouth to taste even more of you.

You softly moaned into his mouth, electricity firing all along your nerves. His muscular, strong chest against your back made you feel hot all over. His tongue that aimed to taste every inch of you did just that. A sensation you haven’t felt for what felt like decades began to spread throughout your pelvis. 

His hand guided your gaze back to the mirror in front of you, your own expression making your breath hitch. Cheeks pink, lips swollen, chest rising and falling rapidly. The bottom of your shirt was a little hiked up, exposing just an inch of waist that drove Simon wild. “See, dove? You’re perfect.”

He held your chin in place, forcing you to watch as he trailed kisses along the side of your neck. His free hand slipped under your shirt, feeling skin that now matched his. You gasped and shivered as he felt you up, feeling his hand travel further up until he reached the bottom wire of your bra. The kisses mixed with tongue and teeth against your neck made you whimper in excitement.

“You’re still soft to the touch. Still warm and living. How I see you hasn’t changed. You are still the same pretty woman I grew to like so much.” He sweetly confessed into your ear as he stripped off your shirt. 

Simon liked you too? Since when? Mental questions faded away as you noticed him unsnap your bra to reveal your breasts. Your hands instinctively went to cover them up, but he caught your wrists in his hand.

“No, dove. I gotta show you just how attractive you are. Keep looking at your pretty little face in the mirror.” He playfully smirked, loving this new side of you more than he imagined. His cock was already pressing against the fabric of his pants, getting bigger by the second. 

With your wrists still held together, he began to massage your breasts. The other side of your neck was shown some love through feverish kisses, making you squirm in his lap. You could feel his growing erection pressed behind you, making your pussy tingle with need. When he pinched a nipple tight, you let a moan slip.

As he dragged his tongue along your neck, he watched the pleasure on your face through the mirror. His pants felt tighter by the second, eager to really show you just how attractive you were to him. 

Limbs felt like jelly as he continued to tease you. When your wrists felt more slack in his grip, he let go to use both hands. You sat in his lap, melted and shivering as he played with both of your nipples. “You’re so sensitive. It’s really turning me on, dove.”

You pressed your legs tighter together, feeling your wetness slowly stain your panties. Simon’s strong chest rose with his labored breath, cock now aching with pain from the restriction of his clothes. He wanted more. He wanted to see every inch of you.

He guided your legs to spread for him, making sure that your pussy would be clear as day through the mirror. You debated fighting back before things went too far, but his hands on you felt incredible. You were so turned on too, despite feeling embarrassed about how weak and bashful you looked. 

In one move, your pants and panties were gone, revealing your slick cunt for both you and Simon to see. Instinctively, you tried to close your legs. However, Simon made sure that you didn’t. He made sure you looked at the mirror too. “Take a good look, dove. So wet for me. . . So pretty. Pink. Soft. Never seen something so delicious before.”

His large fingers began to rub through your folds, spreading your wetness around easily. His eyes grew feverish as he spread you open, feeling the pulse that traveled through you. 

You gasped as he started rubbing your clip in slow, deep circles. Almost two years of abstinence made you sensitive beyond comprehension. “Ah~! Simon~!”

“That’s right, dove. Don’t stop looking at yourself.” He instructed, his voice so deep that it echoed in your head. Lightning zipped through you as he continued to tease your clit, another hand going back to your hard nipples.

God, Simon was so good at this. He was reading you like a book, noticing every flinch, every scrunch, every tremble that flashed across your face. He was getting to know all your sweet spots. Every piece of you that begged for more. 

Your hips bucked as his finger on your cunt slid down close to your entrance. Through the mirror, you saw him smirk, making your heart leap. “Patience. I’ll give my dove what she wants as long as she keeps looking at herself. Promise.”

Gently, he worked his fingers inside of you, feeling just how hot you really were getting for him. He suppressed his own shiver as he felt you tighten up, sucking his fingers in deeper. You clung on to his arms and moaned, throwing your head back against his shoulder in pure bliss.

Grabbing your chin, he made you watch yourself get fingered. “Don’t look away.”

You had no choice but to follow your instructions. Kisses peppered your neck, making sure you didn’t have the space to turn your head away again. You watched his fingers pump in and out of you, more of your natural honey drooling out of you. 

“Ahh! Mnn~!” A loud moan escaped you as you felt his fingers curl to hit that perfect, spongy spot that drove you crazy. Your reaction was instant, your pussy tightening further and tremors traveling through every nerve. Simon could feel and see it. You were getting close to an orgasm. And he really wanted you to reach it.

“That’s it. Watch yourself cum for me, dove.” He praised, moving his fingers more powerfully to make sure you wouldn’t lose that pleasurable high. 

It was beautiful watching you moan and drool and shutter in his lap. It was so sexy how you looked at the mirror with feverish eyes like you wanted more than just his fingers. He wanted to use more too. But not before you came.

Simon put more pressure on your g-spot, not caring that you were making such a huge mess all over his hand. All he wanted to do was go deeper, so deep that his palm was pressing into your throbbing clit. 

That is what made you see stars. With a scream, you were plunged into an orgasm that made you stupid. Simon smirked with pride as he held you during your climax, feeling just how tightly you clung to his fingers. He loved that blissful expression on your face while you came. Corners of your eyes brimming with tears, blush swept across your cheeks, body glowing with excitement. 

“Didn’t I tell you? Absolutely gorgeous.” He complimented, giving you soft kisses on the side of your head as you calmed down. It was still hard to breathe, your heart beating erratically from the climax and from Simon’s husky praises. When he pulled his fingers away, you whimpered from the sensitivity.

Carefully, you were removed from his lap and laid down in front of him. While you took a moment to rest, Simon grabbed a few pillows from his bed, tossed them to the floor, and then stripped. At the sight of his strong build, you swallowed some drool. 

It was strength made to be used. Muscular and soft in all the right places. His own body was covered in old scars, something that made him alluring rather than flawed. And then when your eyes traveled down to his huge, throbbing cock, you felt that familiar tingle take over again.

“Like what you see?” He teased, situating the pillows under you so you could be more comfortable. The head of his dick prodded at your folds, lubing itself up. As he slid along your folds, rubbing your sensitive, red bud, you lost your breath again.

“Simon. . .” You called out in what you hoped sounded like a warning rather than begging. God, you wanted him inside you already. You wanted to feel every inch of him fuck you like you were the most sexy woman on the planet. 

He chuckled a little, your tone a mixture of scolding and impatience. A perfect tone that made him want to fuck you hard already. But, he held back. For now at least. Instead, he turned your head to make you look at your reflection again. Slowly, he entered you, feeling your hot pussy cling to him like it was made for him.

Your expression immediately morphed as he slid his cock inside you deeper. Eyebrows scrunched, vision hazy, plump lips bitten. He was thick. Incredibly thick. You’ve never been so filled up before. It hurt a little, but pain was quickly replaced with pleasure as you got used to it.

Simon gave a satisfied sigh when finally reached the base. It was a sight to behold, your tight pussy stretched to accommodate him. It felt so good inside you. Hot. Slick. His thrusts were slow and deep, watching every reaction you had as you felt every inch of him. It only turned him on even more as he made you watch.

His hands clutching your hips to control the pace had you tremble. You loved how he was careful, yet still wanted to manhandle you. There were moments where you could see him lose his cool for a second. A shuddered breath here, a swallowed groan there. His own expressions as he fucked you deep is what really turned you on the most.

“Fuck, dove. You’re so tight~” He exhaled, picking up the pace with his thrusts. Your toes curled and your back arched as his cock hit every pleasure point within you. It was perfect how he was large and skilled enough to reach every spot you liked. And it was all thanks to how closely he paid attention to you.

His body pressed against yours as he felt the need to be closer to you. He wanted to see your pretty face up close when you cum next. He wanted to feel those beautiful tits pressed flush against his own skin. When he felt you tighten, he knew you were getting close.

You hung onto him tight, wrapping his arms around his neck and digging your nails into his back. It was incredible feeling his muscles flex with each thrust under your hands. Everything felt so good with him. You never thought you would feel pleasure like this again. 

Simon hissed as you clawed his back, a blissful sensation that only left him wanting more. He pistoned harder, hoping that your nails would leave new scars on him. “I can feel you getting close. Look into my eyes when you do.”

Moans gradually turned into screams as he fucked you as deep as he could go, his cock throbbing hard with his own desire to climax. Hearing you scream his name was turning him on more than he thought. So much so that he began calling out yours.

Hearing your own name from his lips with such a desperate tone made the wave crash down. Looking deep into his eyes, you came around him. Every part of you trembled, electricity taking over. It felt like every cell within you was screaming for him. His breath hitched as you tightened and soaked him. And god, the way you looked while cumming. . . 

He held you tight as he felt himself climax too, hot ropes adding to the heat. Your back arched as he gave a few final pumps, milking himself out in you as much as he could. It was hard to control your shutters when he enjoyed the final moments of having you. When he did pull out, it left you feeling empty, yet satisfied. 

Knowing that you were feeling weak, Simon carried you to his bed and laid you down. You were surprised when he crawled into the spot next to you and pulled you into his chest like he was holding a lover. Was that what you two were now? Lovers?

“Like I said before, you’re perfect.” Simon praised and kissed the top of your head.

You two were definitely lovers. All the doubt cleared as you listened to his heartbeat. 

[gloomygumi]

quirks - satoru gojo x gn!reader

summary: part two︱you like to think you’re aware of all of satoru’s quirks, but shoko thinks you may have missed a few.

contents: fluff, newly realised feelings, highschool!gojo, he's honestly not even actually there for a lot of it, shoko and geto are tho, honestly a little bit of whipped gojo, probably ooc but definitely self indulgent

word count: 1.2k

a/n: how are we coping since 236 guys ????? wrote this feeling like i’d been widowed so i guess this counts as my coping mechanism 😭 hope you enjoy anyway, constructive criticism and any ideas or opinions you have are always welcome !!

in your past year of knowing satoru gojo, you’d made a note of his multiple quirks.

you noticed how when the group of second years went out to eat together at the weekends, he would whine about how good everyone else’s food looks until everyone at the table took pity (or annoyance, in suguru’s case) and spooned some of their meal onto his plate.

you noticed how when he was in class, listening to yaga drone on about the different types of curses, he would never let all of the legs of his chair rest on the ground. he was constantly swinging back and forth. it’s a miracle that he’s never fallen back, you think.

you even noticed how he somehow kept a momento from every single hangout and mission, each of them stored in a little wooden box he kept on his bedside table back in the dorms. in the past, you’d seen him slide seemingly worthless ticket stubs and receipts into his pockets, and when the curiosity finally got the better of you and you asked what he did with them, you only received a cheeky grin and a wink from your friend.

so, when shoko finally told you some of her own observations of his behaviours and habits during your lunch break one day, it’s safe to say it shocked you.

“i think it’s pretty obvious that he likes you.” she speaks casually, as if her words hadn’t caused you to choke on your own food. she passes you her bottle of water and pats your back. “you couldn’t tell?”

after gulping down half of her water, and spluttering a few times, you finally found your voice, letting out a strangled “he’s my friend - he does not like me like that!”

the look shoko gives you is one of ridicule, but before she can say anything else, you quickly continue.

“how’d you even come to that conclusion anyway, you’re not usually much of a gossip. that’s suguru’s job." you attempt to joke, but you feel the strained smile drop from your face as the boy you mentioned approaches the table and plops down beside your friend.

speak of the devil...

you see shoko's eyes light up, but before you can even attempt to cut her off again, she turns to suguru. "geto! back me up here, isn't it so obvious that gojo likes (y/n)?"

"mhm." he hums, barely even acknowledging the fact that his confirmation has sent you spiraling for the second time. "he's not exactly subtle about it."

"you guys are being ridiculous."

now it's suguru's turn to look at you like you've suddenly grown two heads. "you really didn't know?"

shoko lets out a laugh at his genuine confusion, and reaches into her bag to pull out a cigarette. you quickly hand her a lighter you keep on hand just for moments like this and she quietly thanks you before continuing. "have you never noticed how he's always touching you in some way?"

"that's just how he is!" you defend. "he's always hanging off of suguru too!"

the pair in front of you share a look, before geto continues. "what about how he never lets you walk closest to the road?"

you stop for a second, trying to pinpoint an occasion - just one - where he had only to come up empty handed. in fact, the more you think about it, the more sense it makes. you replay your moments walking back to the dorms after class with satoru, with his arm always casually wrapped around your shoulder. you remember how he always looked comfortable and at peace. you even remember how he would gently bump you closer into the sidewalk if you were walking with someone else, sticking his tongue out at you and ruffling your hair if you voiced a complaint at his behaviour.

your mouth dries up as you try to come up with another excuse to brush off your friends' observations, but you start to question yourself.

maybe they're right...?

you shake you head, as if trying to clear your head of these thought. "he does that for everyone, you guys are just reading too much into it."

between drags of her cigarette, shoko chuckles. "he's never done it for me." geto leans forward from his seat across from you and gently flicks in between your eyebrows. your hand immediately clamps down on the spot, and you groan at him. "what was that for!?"

he ignores your dramatics. "why are you so sure that we're lying?"

his genuine question makes you stop to think. it wasn't that you didn't like gojo, in fact, you hadn't dedicated much time to thinking about him in that way at all. your friends being so insistent on the fact that he liked you made you slowly start to realise that maybe you did share some affections for the ill mannered boy.

you continue to mull over as many interactions and memories that you have shared with satoru, slowly connecting the dots in your head. he always was more gentle with you, never polite but always kind. he regularly brought you souvenirs back from missions that you weren't assigned to and he always insisted on sitting next to you on the train home, offering you the window seat every single time.

almost as if they can hear your inner monologue being to spiral, shoko pipes up once more. "he gave you a different ring tone so he'd know every time you call."

you feel your heart stop for a second, unsure as to why this in particular made you finally believe their words, but before you even have the opportunity to dismiss them again (now in an attempt to convince yourself more than them) you feel the seat beside you sink with additional weight and a familiar arm flung around your shoulder. you barely even register the smug smile shoko is flashing you from across the table as you focus on attempting to cool your face.

"i can't believe you guys started eating without me!" satoru whines, leaning even more heavily into your side. he makes quick work of plucking a large chunk of meat out of your bento, sending you a sly grin as you look up at him in dismay. "what were you guys talkin' about?"

suguru meets your eyes, raising his eyebrows as he meets your glare, urging him to shut his mouth. "oh nothing." he hums, before completely changing the subject.

the conversation from moments prior is still fresh in your mind, and you're now very aware of the soft glances gojo keeps sending your way. you suddenly feel a lot more awkward in his presence, and you barely notice how you're fidgeting with your hands under the table and not participating in the conversation anymore.

that is until you feel warm hands grip your own, effectively halting their movement. "you okay?" you can barely hear satoru over the blood pumping in your ears, and you're unaware of the laughs shoko and geto are trying desperately to hold back whilst watching the scene as you try to speak.

you start to wish your friends had kept their observations to themselves.

[slytherinshua]

NIGHTS WITH YOU

genre. fluff. warnings. food (ramen). pairing. soobin x fem!reader. wc. 700. request. requested by @blue-jisungs (my baby) for #25: "are those my clothes" and #34: "where's my goodnight kiss?" a/n. i've been writing just so much sleepy fluff either sleepy morning fluff or sleepy bedtime fluff im not complaining cause its always so soft but yeah :(

Soobin stepped out of the bathroom, still drying his hair with a towel. His eyes immediately scoured around the room for you, and when he didn’t find you anywhere, a frown etched on his face. Since he had been at practice all day, you forced him to take a shower before delivering any hugs or kisses, despite how much he begged for them. It was a reasonable request, of course. He was sweaty and stinky— of course you’d rather kiss a clean Soobin. But your boyfriend hadn’t seen you all day and simply needed to be as close to you as possible for the rest of the night. 

He located you quickly, following the smell of spicy noodles to the kitchen. His eyes softened as he saw your figure, wearing one of his black t-shirts.  He pouted, coming up behind you to hold you in a back hug. 

“Are those my clothes?” He asked softly, a giddy smile growing on his face as soon as you laughed.

“You left your drawer open. They were practically asking for me to take them. Plus, they’re more comfortable than my pyjamas.” You said simply, stirring the sauce packet into the pot of ramen noodles you were preparing. 

Although Soobin’s shirts were much too big for you to wear daily, they made for the perfect oversized sleeping garment. As they were designed to fit your 6 foot man both height wise and broad back wise, they practically swallowed your figure. But you loved it, especially the way the shirts smelled exactly like your boyfriend. Soobin didn’t mind. How could he when you looked so cute in his clothes?

“We already share everything anyway. Including that ramen—?“

“No! You’re not getting any!” You shoved your boyfriend off of your back, defensively shielding the ramen pot from his prying hands. He frowned, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to find a way through, but each reach he took got expertly blocked by your chopsticks.

“That is not one bite. That’s like, 6 at least!” You slouched back onto Soobin’s chest, keeping up your pretend grumpiness after you had finally agreed to give him just one bite. Truthfully, you had prepared the ramen more for him than you in the first place. You just wanted to see him eat well after practice. But it was always fun to tease him. Admitting that you carefully prepared them for your boyfriend would make you look unbelievably whipped. Which you were, but you weren’t about to admit it out in the open.

“Here, open up.” Soobin said, holding the chopsticks up for you, feeding you the bite of ramen carefully. Maybe he was just as equally whipped. You whipped your frown off your face and snuggled closer to your boyfriend, enveloped by his fresh scent and warm skin. 

“I can’t believe Beomgyu got to see you more this week than me. It’s not fair.” You sighed, thinking back to the past couple of days. Even when Soobin didn't have a schedule, he’d busied himself in the company building with Beomgyu, playing games or writing lyrics. 

You had nothing against the younger member, you were as close to him as you were any of Soobin’s friends. But nothing hit you quite as hard as the loneliness you felt when Soobin was away from you. It felt nice to be back in his arms, knowing that there was nothing left for that day that would prevent you from falling asleep and waking up next to him. 

“Where’s my goodnight kiss?” Soobin asked once you were back in his arms after doing the dishes. 

“Right here.” You smiled, cupping his cheeks to bring his face down to your lips. As always, Soobin’s lips tasted heavenly. And, just like always, Soobin was the clingier of you two. He chased your lips every time you pulled away, causing you both to giggle. Countless soft pecks were placed around your face until his head hit the pillow and he gathered you up in his arms, close enough to hear his relaxed breath and steady heart beat. The rhythm lulled you to sleep, head resting against his chest and your back blanketed by his arms.

↳ txt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @90steele,, @ddeonudepressions,, @minholing,,

@wolfmoonmusic,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,,

@amara-mars,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @heavenfilm,,

@sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @sxmmerberries,, @talking-saxy,,

@nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @stannwjnss

[alpaca-clouds]

How to cook in a medieval setting

Alright. As some of the people, who follow me for a longer while know... I do have opinions about cooking in historical settings. For everyone else a bit of backstory: When I was still LARPing, I would usually come to LARP as a camp cook, making somewhat historically accurate food and selling it for ingame coin. As such I know a bit about how to cook with a historical set up. And given I am getting so much into DnD and DnD stories right now, let me share a bit for those who might be interested (for example for stories and such).

🍲Cooking at Home

First things first: For the longest time in history most people did not have actual kitchens. Because actual kitchens were rather rare. Most people cooked their food over their one fireplace at home, which looked something like what you see above. There was something made of metal hanging over the fireplace. At times this was on hinges and movable, at times it was set in place. You could hang pots and kettles over it. When it came to pans, people either had a mount they would put over the fire or some kind of grid they could easily put into place there with some sourts of mounts (like the two metal thingies you can see above).

If you have a modern kitchen, you are obviously used to cook on several cooktops (for most people it is probably four of them), while in this historical you obviously only had one fire. Of course, as you can also see in the picture above, you could often put two smaller pots over the flames or put in a pan onto the fire additionally. But yes, the way we cook in modern times is very different.

Because of this a lot of people often ate stews and soups of sort. You could make those in just one pot - and often could eat from the same stew for days. In a lot of taverns the people had an "everything stew" going, which worked on the idea that everyone just brought their food leftovers, which were all put into one pot everyone would eat from.

Now, some alert readers might have also noticed something: What about bread and pastries? If you only have one fireplace and no oven, how did people make bread?

Well, there were usually three different methods for this. The most common one was communal ovens. Often people had one communal oven in a neighborhood. Especially in a village there might just be a communal oven everyone would just put their bread in to bake. (Though often this oven would only be fired up once or twice a week.)

The second version to deal with this some people used was a sort of what we today call a dutch oven. A pot made either of metal or clay with a lit you would put into the hot coals and then put bread or pastries into that, baking it like that.

There was also a version where people just baked bread in pans on the fire, rotating the bread during the baking process. At least some written accounts we have seem to imply. (Never tried this method, though. I have no idea how this might work. My camp bread was mostly done in dutch ovens or as stickbread.)

Keep in mind that the fireplace at home was very important for the people in historical times. Because it was their one source of warmth in the house.

🏕️ Cooking at Camp

Technically speaking cooking at camp is not that different - with the exception of course that you have to drag all your supplies along. And while in Baldur's Gate 3 and most other videogames you can carry around several sets of full-plate armor and several pounds of ingredients so that dear Gale can whip something up... In real life as an adventurer running around you need to make decisions on what to take along.

If you have read Lord of the Rings, you might remember how many people have criticized Sam for actually dragging all his cooking supplies along and how sad he was for not being able to cook for most of the time, because they were very limited in taking ingredients along.

So, yes, if you are an adventurer who is camping out in the open, you will probably need to do a lot of hunting and gathering to eat during your travels. You can take food for a couple of days along, but not for a lot.

A special challenge is of course, that while you can cook food for several days when you are at homes, you do not want to drag along a prepared stew for several days. So usually you will cook in smaller batches.

A lot of people who were journeying would often just take along one or two pots along.

So, what would you eat as an adventurer travelling around while trying to save the world from some evil forces? Well, it would depend on the time of the year of course. You would probably hunt yourself some food. For example hares, birds or squirrels. Mostly small things you can eat within one or two days. You do not want to drag along half a dead deer. In the warm months you might also forrage for all sorts of greens. You also can cook with many sorts of roots. Of course you can also always look into berries and other fruits you might find.

Things you might bring with you might be salt and some spices. A good thing to bring along would be herbs for tea, too, because I can tell you from experience that water you might have gotten from a river does not always taste very well - and springs with fresh water are often not accessible.

Now, other than what you can access the basic ideas of camping fires and cooking with them has not changed in the last few thousand years. While modern people camping usually have a car nearby and hence will have access to a lot of ingredients. But the general ideas of how to build a fire and put a pot over it... has not really changed.

So, yeah.

Just keep in mind that for the most part in historical settings until fairly recently, there was not much terms of proper kitchens. People cooked over an open fire and hence had to get at times ingenius about it.

[lady-ashfade]

Yandere Romantic Class 1-A With A Darling Who Is Touchy And Flirty

—£ This about how the class would react! I have just been in the mode to write for mha so that’s what I’m doing. Also love the yandere class with all my might.

—£ Warnings: Suggest themes, yandere behavior, possessive behavior, reader being very flirty, revealing clothing.

The class had a handful with dealing with you. it was always so much when you started right off the bat with giving them hugs or touching them in smalls ways. to you it wasn’t a big deal and you were just being you, you had no clue that they thought it was romantic. sweet little thing you were to not noticing how feral your classmates were with you.

Each of them always tries to get you to touch them in any kind of way. If you wanted to lay your head on their shoulders, give them a high five? Anything is okay.

Quickly they realized you just did physical touch to show you care, or that you had a flirty personality. You never noticed how truly dazed and embarrassed they got when you flirted with one of them. Or, the death glares they sent to the other that had your attention.

Bakugo was one to quickly pull you around. he’d pull you by the waist and make you walk with him while he yells at you(He’s to flustered to do anything else). He’d give you pointers on how “Not to suck.” when you train. even saying he needs help dealing with those shitty extras he is friends with.

Bakugo gets so red when you touch his muscles and his chest when you praise him for a job well done. he could have beat you in a training match but here you are praising him. “You’ll be a great hero.” You’d wink at him and tell him to remember you when the time comes. but how could he ever forget you!

The class always watched out for you when they needed to. like once they saw you with a person from class 1-b and you put your precious hands on that person. oh boy did they get pissed. they let you out of sight for a minute and here someone is taking advantage of you. don’t you know that smile and praise is only for them, along with your sweet touches.

“We missed you,” Mina spoke as she held you close as the class surrounded you. “Dumbass, stop talking to those fuckin’ idoits.” The loud blonde growled.

You only giggled and smiled, “They were really nice guys. no need to worry,” you smirked “you guys are the only classmates I want.”

Their hearts melted there.

Soon, they got more comfortable with your attention. So much that they couldn’t go without them. They pouted when you didn’t hug them when you walked into class, or anything else. And of course that counted how much you hugged the others and made you do the same.

But, the more time went on your flirting was taken seriously, of course unnoticed to you. the dekusquad and bakusqaud would fight over who you actually like. the others would get jealous and maybe comment, but they would share. they would do anything for their darling.

If you are more masculine then you could touch the guys more because it wouldn’t be considered “Inappropriate” even if you are innocent. like feeling their chest and shoulders to comment them. The boys loved that, because they got to smirk at the girls.

Now if you are more feminine then the girls made you cuddle them, no matter what actually. throw your arms around the waist, or pull you so close to their bodies. the girls are bad because they are into PDA. Like, the boys touch you if you allow them- But the girls? They are touching you all the time.

“Aren’t you the cutest,” Ochako coo’d at your puffy cheeks full of food, you looked like a deer in headlights as you continued to chew. “They have sauce on their cheek, kero.” Tsu chirped up from beside you.

“Here let me!” Momo took a napkin and whipped off your pretty cheek. “Much better.” You thanked her and continued to eat. you were used to your friends behavior so it wasn’t a problem, though sometimes you found it weird.

“I made you a playlist.” Jiro said as a buzz at your phone went off. She had stayed up all night looking for songs that you’d like, maybe even praise her for it later.

But the class fond over you not matter what you are. you’re their darling. you can get anything you want if you bat your eyes at them.

in training they put on a show for you just so they get get your praise at who wins. it’s almost a blood bath each time. the class is constantly fighting over you. And will fight anyone who is not them because it’s only them who can have you.

Just be careful not to make them faint with your actions because it’s easy. Their pretty little thing.

[cindol]

hi!! idk if your reqs r open but can I req the jjk men’s fav kinks?

JJK MEN AND THEIR FAVORITE KINKSᯓ★ !

tw — smut,consent is given before hand in all scenarios, choso’s part is really rushed,

cw ꒱ ! — sub choso, choso is blindfolded, spanking, gojo is a little mean, gojo ties reader’s hands, pussy eating, sukuna is a clan leader, sukuna fucks reader in front of people, nanami’s hands and legs are tied,

synopsis — jujutsu kaisen men and their favorite kinks .

a / n : my inbox is very much open ! I guess I ain’t make it seem like it is but it’s very much open for request and any questions y’all ! but I hope u enjoy annonie

CHOSO KAMO + PRAISE KINK + MOMMY KINK AND SENSATION PLAY !

At first he’ll whine at the confinements on his hands and eyes till he hears your soft voice in his ear.“shh.. relax baby, I’m right here.” while rubbing his thigh.

“mommy’s right here baby.” Hearing that makes the tips of his ears slightly flushed with a pink tint. He can’t even respond, just focused on your hands touching him from his thigh to his neck, placing gentle kisses on his neck down back to his chest.

Only moans and whimpers come from choso, when he’s in this state that’s all he can do instead of words. The only words coming from his mouth are.“mmph! Mommy please!” for the entirety of this. With how your wet lips touched and teased the tip of his dick he couldn’t be blamed for barely making coherent noises and words.

GOJO SATORU + IMPACT PLAY AND FOODPLAY!

Gojo loves impact play with you. Unlike some men who just like to spank their girl for punishment he does it for the fun of it. Seeing your ass turn a different slight shade from his spanking paddle as you were laid out on his lap satisfied him.

Hearing every gasp and moan come from you from each spank on your ass gets his familiar cocky laugh out of him. To give you a fake sense of comfort he rubs your ass in a smooth circle till he catches you off guard with a sharp spank again.“cmon babe you know me, I think you can take some more spanks.”

Food play is also a liking of his also. If he isn’t causing terror on your poor ass he’s treating you like his own dessert. His cherries, whipped cream and chocolate syrup never goes to waste.

On his bed you laid pretty on your back with your hands tied behind your back while gojo stood in front of you all he did was admire you with a whistle.”you look Mm.. how do they say in Spanish? Delicioso!”

His corny joke makes your cringe even in your restraints but he was right. On your body all drizzled on you was chocolate syrup from top to bottom, your tits having whipped cream topped with two blood cherry’s, even your private area having whip cream sprayed on top of it.

“You’re so childish satoru.. you’re lucky I actually love you enough to get this sticky ass sweet stuff on my body.”

Your words aren’t even being put into consideration for him, his eyes just on your body while he licked his lips like he found you delicious.“mhm mhm.. just let me eat you yeah?”

Before you respond he’s parting your legs,“artist gotta eat his art doesn’t he? Or however the hell it goes.” You just roll your eyes in a playful way at his corny joke.

The snarky expression on your face disappears once gojo licks a stripe of whipped creamed off your cunt making you gasp and squeeze at the bed sheets for some leverage for the mean time.

In big licks he licked stripes of the whipped cream off your pussy until he started to eat you out, making small kisses in between almost sloppy kissing your pussy.

Through your soft moans you tried speaking coherently but he made that difficult like he wanted to on purpose.“s-satoru slow down! or I might cum too early!”

satoru lifts his head only once to laugh.“exactly what the plan is.”

SUKUNA RYOMEN + EXHIBITIONISM !

a exhibitionism kink is a dangerous combo but it makes complete sense for a man like sukuna ryomen.

Ever since he saw how two of his clans men had a flustered face at one of the meetings at a visible rip in your kimono showing your thigh while you sat. It made him look more into kinks and he eventually discovered those kinks

He used the excuse of showing dominance to his clans men on what’s his but really he gets off on fucking the beloved woman of the clan knowing no other man could ever have this privilege.

In a spacious room usually used for clan meetings it’s instead used for erotic display of you. On the large stage as he fucked you with you arched on a soft cushion and one of your legs draped over his hip as support for his deep fucking of your wet cunt.

When he turned his head to see his men with flushed faces sitting on their knees and staring at the sight of each part of his wife’s body and breathy moans. a grin stretches on his handsome face at it.

“Watch men as I fuck what’s mine, and don’t dare to take your eyes off.” He treats this as a lesson for them just to show them what’s really his and his alone.

NANAMI KENTO + BONDAGE PLAY !

On rare occasions, nanami gives you the wheel to try and dominate. Of course you always fail even with him in bonds but still being the sweet man he is, it’s never not worth a try.

Nanami isn’t big on bondage, he’s not a big bdsm daddy, his arms and legs are tied to his own bed so he’s on display for you and the third leg he had was there for you too.

In front of him you were standing over him biting your nail with a smile slowly moving towards his body.“Mm.. Better hope you can hold out baby, this time I ain’t folding for you.” purring your words out as you got towards his body.

nanami had a feeling that was never true and just chuckled along.“I can handle whatever you throw at me I promise dear.”

It turns out he’s really right when you can barely take his dick even with him tied down. Hiccups and moans are pouring from your mouth as you ride him. It was always intriguing for nanami to see how the smile you originally had on your face thinking you really were gonna get him this time turned into a moaning one with your pouty lips all wobbly and your eyes rolled back.

For nanami, only his hair was a bit damp with some sweat running down from his forehead. He didn’t have some shit eating grin but a ‘I told you so’ smile while he watched as you struggled to dominate.

“P-please can’t anymore!” you moaned out your plea with your legs soon giving up with slower movements.

Nanami was a slight tease like he always was in this.“oh? Can’t anymore? Even with my hands tied baby.” a false disappointed sigh came from his lips.“need me to take the lead again hm?”

Your movements stopped completely with you nodding.“mhm…” your head laid against his chest for a moment.“But how are you gonna take the lead if you’re all tied up?”

a soft chuckle came from nanami and a head shake.“I think you misunderstand just how much power I can have darling.” using his hips he thrusted up into you getting a yelp and whimper to erupt from your mouth.

[nutluvs]

not sure if your requests are still open but I'd devour your take on how rdr characters would react to you giving them a hot lunch while they are hunting. Like they are sitting at the top of the hill with a hunting bow in their hands and you sneak up to them, handing them a hot meal prepared for them.

preferred characters are javier, sean and kieran but you can add your favourites as well, I will gladly read your take on that about any character! :)

also don't feel pressured if you don't feel like writing it! much love anyways, have a nice day :))

- 🦎

hot n' ready 🍰 various rdr2 characters x gn! reader

!! divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more ♡ !! hi sweetheart ! i hope you're doing amazing today ! ♡ this is my favorite request i've gotten in ages ! it's so cute. thank you so much for sending it in. ♡ i'm so so sorry it took me so long to write, i've had like.. 0 motivation to write lately, and this is just to get back into it. i'm also very sorry if this sucks and if i didn't portray any of your favorites right, i'm only really used to writing a few characters. synopsis:bringing your dearest some good lunch you made just for him while he's out hunting. pairings (in order): ♡ charles smith ♡ arthur morgan ♡ javier escuella ♡ eagle flies ♡ sean macguire ♡ kieran duffy ♡ john marston ♡ the boy warnings: none, this is just fluff !! mentions: @pursuedbyamemoryy @deaddoedonoteat

charles smith:

he didn't expect it. at all.

although, that doesn't mean he didn't appreciate it.

when you crept up to him, his focus was entirely on the doe, whose head was tipped down to nibble at the grass beneath her hooves.

as soon as you prodded at him with the tip of your finger, he jolted and made a discontented, uncomfortable sound.

he was quick to whip around to see who it was, gripping his bow a little tighter, but when he realized it was you he visibly relaxed almost instantly.

he greets you and asks you what you have in your hands, disregarding the doe immediately. you were more important.

"a warm lunch, just for you. i know pearson's meals aren't so satisfying to eat, especially since they lack seasoning and any variation, so i made something of my own. i also made myself something, that way, we could have some lunch together.

when you say that, he feels his face go warm.

he has to clear his throat before attempting to tell you that you didn't have to do this for him and that he didn't want to be a waste of time, but you were quicker, promising him that he deserved a break from low quality food and that he deserved something nice.

so, now understanding you were absolutely sure, he takes his warm lunch from your hands with a smile, and you eat together underneath the shade of a tree, sharing conversation and warm, loving smiles.

arthur morgan:

he was a bit frustrated.

he had tried to get his hands on this damn buck for so long, but every time he'd try and shoot, the thing would get spooked off by quickly passersby.

so now, here he was, sat atop a hill, grumbling to himself about how irritating the prey was, fidgeting with an arrow and trying to calm himself down.

he had heard hoofbeats on the grass and quickly turned to see who it was, and as soon as he saw your face, all of his anger was gone. he put the arrow he held down onto the grass with his bow, and watched you approach. he noticed you had something in your hands.

"hey, darlin'. what's that you got in your hands?" he asks, watching you sit down beside him with a bit of a smile present on your features.

"some lunch for you. made it myself." you say, smiling bigger. "i figured you'd like something that isn't as bad as pearson's cooking... so i made that something."

arthur was a bit shocked, taking it from your hands when you held it out to him. he looked from the box up to you, unsure. "i don't deserve this, darlin', it's.. you didn't have to."

"i wanted to."

this makes his face go red, because he wouldn't really figure someone would want to do something like this for him. but it made him happy, and he really enjoyed your cooking. who knew you were so good?

javier escuella:

he's more of a fishing guy, so that might make it a little harder for you to reach him, but that doesn't deter you.

he went down to the dakota river to do some fishing, and he asked you to tag along, but you initially said no. he was a little sad about that.

however, when he was in the middle of wrapping a smallmouth bass so he could return it to camp, you prodded at his shoulder, causing him to yelp and drop the fish.

you apologized quickly, but he was quick to put the apology down. he wasn't mad at you, he could never be. plus, he insisted he should've been more aware of his surroundings.

after that, you handed him the lunch you made.

"querida, what's this?" he asks, inspecting it closely, as if unsure. it wasn't like you'd give him something that'd kill him, so he stopped his looking.

"a lunch i made for you, since pearson's cooking tastes like shit."

"it has a few of the meals you told me your mother used to make you, and i wanted to sorta give you some sense of home. i hope my cooking is as good as hers, and that i captured the flavors right."

his heart warms, and he feels a bit of a hitch in his breath. you took the time out of your day to make him one of the dishes from home? oh, you were just the sweetest.

he holds the lunch carefully as he brings you into a hug and kisses your cheek, thanking you before quickly sitting down to enjoy what you picked to make him.

eagle flies:

today's hunt had been very successful, and he was proud of that.

he had managed to shoot down some rabbits, and he wanted to finish off a deer as well. he found it most refreshing when he did this.

when you came over the hill, he was poised to shoot, rough fingertips pulling back on the string of his bow.

you decided to stay quiet, watching him release the string and puncture the unaware doe's neck. you smiled when he released a pleased sigh, standing to go collect the arrow and the fresh kill.

"that was a good one," you say, spotting him turn and smile right back at you. "thank you." he replies. he'd known you were there, but he had already gotten the opportunity for a perfect shot, so he didn't greet you despite how bad he'd wanted to.

you watched him pluck the arrow from the carcass and hoist it over his shoulder, bringing it back to his horse before helping you down from yours.

"so, why'd you come?"

"made you something." you say, handing him a small box lunch. "you deserve a treat for all of the hard work you've been doing lately. i know it's the least i could do for such hard work, but i was in a rush."

eagle flies smiles at the gift, his heart fluttering. "thank you, my love. i appreciate this a lot. i've always liked your cooking." he says, leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to your temple, before sitting down to eat the meal you made specially for him.

sean macguire:

he didn't know why he came on this hunting trip. hunting irked him.

he wasn't even all that good at focusing on the prey, let alone shoot it in a vital spot to kill it. he wouldn't admit that, nor the fact that he'd rather be doing something more entertaining.

he just about tossed away the bow, but you twined your arms around him in a hug and gazed up at him, a smile on your lips.

"hi honey." you say gently, "i brought you something to eat. hunting isn't your forte, and i know you like my cooking. maybe it'll calm you down."

sean stared at you for a moment, his expression flat before it grew a bit embarrassed, "i can hunt just fine!" he snapped, and you laughed. "i saw the anger in your face, honey, you hate it. here."

you pushed the box meal into his hands, and he wasn't going to deny this. as you said, he loved your cooking. he'd never say otherwise... even if he didn't like the flavor of something, he was the biggest fan of your meals and would eat up the whole plate.

he was quick to slump down underneath a tree with you, blabbering on about his day with you leaning against his shoulder. he didn't have any manners when eating, but that was fine. at least he was back to being happy.

kieran duffy:

he prefers being back at camp with the horses, let's just say that.

he didn't like the idea of hurting animals, preferring to take care of them. so, he purposefully made this a bad hunt.

he didn't even know why they asked him of all gang members to go out and hunt... although, he'd still try. he wanted them to trust him at least a little bit more. he wasn't just some o'driscoll..

he sat crouched behind a bush, expression a bit worried as he aimed the bow he borrowed at an unaware rabbit.

when he let go of the string, he jolted back, the squeaky, high-pitched sound from a pained bunny not meeting his ears. only the sound of panicked scuttling and the small thud of an arrow.

"oh..." he sighed, a bit displeased with himself. although, he sorta preferred that he didn't kill something so innocent.

"kieran?"

the sound of your voice caused him to jolt once again, and he looked up at you. "o-oh, hey, darlin'.. um, i uh.."

"i see you haven't caught yourself anything."

"nope.." he mumbled, gaze straying elsewhere. he listened to your soft laughter as you sat down beside him. "that's okay," you promised, earning his eyes on you again, "don't worry. i'll catch something later. anyway, i brought you something."

when you handed him a box, he felt the warmth seep into his palms. he looked at it, then at you. "what's this?"

"some lunch. i made it specially for you, you deserve a break from all that harassment they give you. even though it's not much, i thought you might like it."

kieran blushed at this, putting the box on his lap and managing a small-voiced "thank you."

you made him feel so dizzy, so stupid in love. but he liked that. he liked it a lot.

john marston:

he was pretty self confident in today's hunt.

he'd managed a few kills, a deer and some birds. nothing too big. but he was still pretty proud. and with this confidence, he felt he'd be good with another kill.

however, as soon as he plucked an arrow to shoot with, he noticed you coming up the hill. he was quick to smile all dumb, shoving his bow and arrow away.

when you came over the hill, you halted your horse, looking to him as he made his way over to you and pulled you from your horse.

you noticed quickly that he was in a good mood, as he began to swing you around when you were in his arms. "there's my angel! how are you doing?" he asks, nuzzling you as he sat you down, listening to your giggles.

"great! i don't think i have to ask you how you are..." you tease, before stepping slightly back from him. "made you a little something, by the way.

this caught his attention, and he raised a brow, "what's that?" "made you a lunch, with your favorites." you said as you handed him the lunch. "i figured you'd like it. you've told me about two million times that my cooking's your favorite." holy shit, was this day going good. john was through the roof now.

john grinned like the idiot he was and took the box from you. "thanks, my angel. always did like your cooking, you do it real good. i always wonder who taught you." he admits, wrapping you up in his arms again, careful not to spill what he has in his hands. you giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw, "i try, and i'm glad my hard work is met with a good product."

"mmmhm. now, wanna sit down and share?"

the boy:

he wasn't usually the type to hunt.

however, today, he went out hunting, and it wasn't going so good. he ended up pouting on the forest floor, leaning against a tree.

"honey?" you call out, which distracts him from his moping. he looks like he lightened up a bit, but not as much as you hoped. you sighed when he looked back to his hands.

"not much of a result, huh, love?" you ask, dismounting your horse and approaching him. you squatted down beside him, putting a hand on his cheek and tipping his head up. he grunted a "no."

"huntin's stupid. i'm the best 'round here, but these damn animals.." he huffed. you only smiled softly, leaning in close to him and pressing a kiss to his temple. "will this cheer you up?" you ask, putting a small box in his hands.

he looked at you, confused, blue eyes searching your face and waiting for an explanation.

"it's lunch i made for you. i know you're not the biggest fan of hunting, so i decided i'd make you a lunch to cheer you up... and before you ask if there's any watermelon, yes, i put watermelon in it."

he grinned dumbly, his face growing warm and dusting with a rosy color, leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the nose. "thanks, i always did like your cooking... makes me feel better 'bout this."

"oh, i know. you're blushing all silly."

"i ain't!"

here's this! i hope this suffices for my first post in 8 centuries. i hope you enjoyed, have a nice day! love you guys ♡♡♡♡

[writingroom21]

Hey boo boo bear imagine this kook rafe x shy pouge reader get stuck in a room together…… they have sex. I don't know how to plot this😭

Rafe only tolerates reader in his sister group since reader is shy and quiet and because she's a good baker and cooker since he eats the food reader makes for Sarah (the reader doesn't know obviously)❤️❤️❤️ plz make it super smutty

Escape Room

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), spanking, spitting, use of belt, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), choking, (let me know if I missed any)

Wc: 2.9K

A/N: This was just a great idea and I literally loved writing it.

“He said he would be there in fifteen minutes to pick up the brownies. Thank you again so much.” Sarah rushes out her words feeling bad that Rafe was already late. “It’s okay not like my job is super demanding anyway. I just sit here and watch the cameras. Plus it’s slow and no one has reservations.” Working at an escape room has its perks. You get to sit back and relax, watching as people try to figure out the puzzles. 

“Okay. Again I’m so sorry he’s late. Let me know if he was a dick after he leaves.” Sarah says before hanging up the call. Rafe was supposed to be here two hours ago and he is still not here. Sarah had asked you to make her brownies from the pool party she was having when she invited you. Sadly you had work but still had agreed to make them.

You’ve been making desserts and dinners for her since middle school. It started when you made some pasta dishes with your mom. You had brought some extra to school the next day and she had tried it at lunch. She fell in love with it and promised you to always save her extra when you cook. Even when you too went to different High schools she didn’t let that stop her.

She would ride her bike to your house all the way in the cut after school to try some new dishes. It was a little routine the two of you enjoyed. Then you started to make extra of every dish and dessert to bring to Tanny Hill. Everyone in the house loved your cooking and baking. Even the eldest Cameron sibling couldn’t find himself to hate it. No matter how hard his brain told him not to eat your dirt pogue food he still does.

He guesses over time his disdain for pogues dissipated only for you. He found himself excited to try a new dish or eat your famous cookies when Sarah brought them home. When Sarah had asked him to pick up at first he was really willing to get them. Accepting the chance to get close to you without having her around. Then he realized he would actually have to be around you without a buffer.

Rafe decided that the longer he waits to pick up the brownies then maybe the less time you have to take to him. That’s why he told Sarah he would be there in fifteen all while he was still on the course playing golf with Topper and Kelce. 

Another forty minutes pass and he is still not here. The last group of people leave the alien invasion room. Sighing you get up and start to clean up the room. This is the one downside of everything, you have to clean the whole things up. Resetting every clue is a hassle in itself, not to mention people make messes on purpose. You were so busy trying to put one of the clues together that you didn’t hear someone calling out for you.

Rafe walks around calling out your name to find you. “Where are you? I just need the brownies and then I’ll be gone.” He sees one of the doors open and a figure lurking around. Getting closer he can see that it’s you so he walks into the doorway. “Hey! Can I get them now?” You turn around to see Rafe, clutching your chest at the scare that he gave you.

He goes to walk further into the room and bumps into the door holder making it fly out of place. “Don’t let the-” The door slams shut due to the weight of it, it’s slam echoing in the room. “Door close.” Rafe turns around to open it. “God, it's not a huge deal.” The door handle shakes but it doesn’t budge.

“Why isn’t it opening?” There’s a twinge of irritation in his voice. Whipping around to look at you he finds you sitting down on one of the seats. Like clock work the automatic voice booms through the speakers. 

“Welcome brave fighters. The Aliens have attacked and you are our only hope of fighting them. In exactly one hour they will take over the world and destroy it. This bunker contains the key to saving the world. Find it before time runs out or we are all doomed. Good luck.”

Just like that the clock above the door turns on and the seconds start to count down. “What the fuck is happening?” Rafe is rattling the door trying to pry it off the hinges. “It’s an automatic system. Once the door closes the game starts and you can’t get out.” You are willing to let the time run out already texting your boss to tell them you got locked in a room.

This wouldn’t be the first time this has happened. At least those times weren’t you and there was someone else to open the door. It’s just your luck that today of all days you are the only one working. Your boss texts you back without being any help.

Well I’m on vacation right now. I’ll text the group chat to see who can come get you out. You might just have to solve it or wait it out.

“Who the fuck thought that was a good idea?” You laugh at him and go over to the first clue, solving it and getting the key out of the box. “It’s an escape room dumbass. It’s kinda the whole point. Plus everyone here knows not to close the door, that’s why the block was there.” Rafe closes his eyes as he realizes the thing his foot accidently hit was the only thing holding the door back.

“I didn’t know sorry.” Your back is turned to you as you are finding the keyhole on the table that opens it. Rafe watches in awe as the table top clicks open and you lock it into place. Sarah has always said that they should all come here to try one out and he brushed it off when they actually made plans. He thought these types of things were stupid but now that he’s seeing you do it just makes him think it’s him who's stupid. 

There would be no way that he would figure any of this out. He knows that you know how to do all of the clues due to having to set them up. But damn how would anyone be able to figure that out? Walking closer he can see that the table opens up into a map of the world and each country is out of order. You just set each one perfectly in place and a trap door opens on the far side of the wall.

“Didn’t realize you were so smart for a pogue?” You roll your eyes at him and push past him to go to the other room. “How long will it take you to figure this all out? I don’t have all day.” It is funny that he would say that considering he made you wait on him for most of the day. “That’s rich coming from you.” You get into the room and look at the fake control panel that’s in it. This is the one part of this room you take forever to fix. 

You can’t remember which switches control which thing. They all work in some way but only four of them cause the map to light up for the next clue. “What upset that I have a life and you don’t? I had shit to do, you aren’t important.” The laugh you let out is like you are mocking him and he hates it. “I could give two shits that you were late. Wouldn’t expect anything less from you. All you care about is yourself.”

“That’s not true.” If he thought that other laugh was annoying this one makes his blood boil. “You are literally the most selfish person I know. You’re rude, arrogant, and honestly a disgusting person. I would rather be stuck in a room with a million spiders then feel you breathing down my neck.” You didn’t realize how close you had gotten to him. All up close and personal to him. 

“I’m literally trying to figure all of this out so we can get out of her and you didn't even offer to help. All you can do is sit there on you ass like a fucking child.” Rafe’s anger gets the best of him and he wraps a hand around your neck. “Careful there. Don’t get on my bad side. You’re lucky I even tolerate you.” His fingers tighten a little bit, the blood flow slowing slightly. “If this is you tolerating me then maybe you should get fucking checked. There is obviously something wrong with you.”

The room gets quiet and all that can be heard is his heavy breathing. His chest is brushing against yours with each breath. Your eyes flicker back and forth looking into the blue eyes you’ve known for years. Without a second thought his lips are crashing onto yours. You meet his enthusiasm, kiss him just as hard. 

His other hand wraps around your hair tugging it to manipulate your head to deepen the kiss. Walking backwards you bump into the counsel, buttons digging into you as he lifts you to sit on it. “So much tough talk and look at you now.” The way he looks at you is belittling as if you aren’t a real person.

“Do you always have to be so annoying?” He smiles at you and dives back in to kiss you. Hands roam your body and squeeze the flesh under his palms. The kiss gets more intense as he nips at your lips. You let out a wince pulling back. Lifting a hand to touch your lip and feel the warmth seeping from the cut. “Are you serious?” Rafe smiles all cocky at you, feeling good that you were in pain. 

The smirk didn’t last because you delivered a smack across his face. He slowly turns his head back, shocked by the action. “Oh you’re going to regret that.” He kisses you again, ignoring your wince of pain and biting your lip even harder. The hands roaming your body move in between the two of you so he can unbutton your pants. Your fingers dig into his shoulder as you lift yourself up, helping him take your pants off.

His right thumb starts to stroke you over your panties, feeling how wet you are. “Look at how wet you are. Shy little girl who’s actually just a slut in disguise.” You moan at the words and the feeling of his thumb rubbing you just right. The fabric makes it feel even better. Your hands reach towards his belt and unbuckles it. His pants and boxers are shoved down his legs.

“Can you just shut up and fuck me already. Starting to think that you keep talking just to stall.” Your hand wraps around his dick and starts stroking. The tilt of your head does him in. He grabs your face and pinches your cheeks together. “Don’t worry baby, just giving you some more time with your thoughts before I scramble them.” Without warning he pushes your panties to the side and thrusts into you.

The moan you let out is like a taste of heaven. The sweetest sound that he’s ever heard. His pace is brutal, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. In his head he’s thought about this before. This exact moment has played out in different ways in his dreams. In those he takes his time with you, stretching you out with his fingers and eating you out until his face is covered in you. That was always a part of his vision yet here he is skipping all of it.

It’s like there is something about you that clouds his thoughts and sense of morality. He can’t seem to keep his cool around you or to stop himself from being him. His grip on your cheeks get tighter, his hips snapping into you. He keeps watching your face as your eyes roll back.

If he wasn’t holding your face then you would have fallen backwards. As if he heard your thoughts he pushes you backwards, your back hurts from the keys. You know that tomorrow there will be marks left from them. His other arm wraps around your back lifting your hips in the air. From this angle he’s hitting deeper and getting your g-spot in the best way.

He’s holding you in a position to give himself the best form of pleasure and yet you are getting it too. At first he really didn’t care if you enjoyed it, only wanting to teach you a lesson. That mindset faded away just by looking at you. This was better than what he had imagined and he couldn’t be happier. He lifts you back up and pulls out, flipping you to lay over the counsel.

Lights flicker as some buttons are pushed from your hands slamming down to catch yourself. Rafe kneels down behind you and attaches his lips to your clit. Your head drops down to rest on your forearm. “Oh fuck that feels good.” Rafe hums at the taste of you, shaking his head slightly side to side. He stays there for a few minutes bringing you to the very edge of your orgasm before stopping.

Pulling back his hands play with your ass, his eyes catching the glint from his belt buckle. An idea pops into his head. Picking up the belt he folds it in half, dragging it up your leg as he stands up. “What are you doing?” You turn your head to look at him and see him smirking down at you. Without saying anything to you he lifts up the belt and smacks your ass with it. You let out a yelp from the stinging sensation.

He does it once again, your yelps morphing into moans. The pain is dull or maybe you are just too focused on the way he’s kissing up your spine. His other hand grips  himself, lining his dick back up to your entrance. Teeth dig into the side of your neck as he sinks into your soaked pussy. Your eyes pinch shut, mouth wide open as he keeps thrusting in.

You are enveloped in pleasure, so much so that all of your senses seem to disappear. Your ears are ringing, eyes watering from pleasure, all you can feel is him all around you and something cool around your neck. Opening your eyes was like a wake up call. You can feel the smooth leather moving around your skin as he loops it through the buckle. Lifting a hand to touch your neck confirms it all. 

He put the belt around your neck.

Rafe wraps his hand with the excess leather, keeping a tight grip on it. He yanks a little on it to tighten it. Not enough to fully choke you but enough to make it pleasurable. He gives it another tug when he realizes you like it, causing your back to arch. Your head is practically touching his shoulder now. He moves a hand up your body to grab your face, turning it to look at him.

Once your eyes are staring back at it he speaks. “Open your mouth.” You don’t know why he even told you anything, he used his grip to pry it open anyway. Rafe spits into your open mouth, kissing you immediately after. His thrusts are increasing in pace, slamming into your hips. The familiar feeling of your orgasm washes over you, making your body convulse. Your moans are loud, tearing through your throat.

Rafe helps you through your orgasm before pulling out and stroking himself, cumming all over your ass. “Oh fuck. You look so pretty like this, covered in my cum. All fucked out because of me.” He’s mesmerized as he plays with his cum, scooping it with his fingers he brings it to your mouth. On instinct you lick them clean, moaning at the taste of him.

The sounds of a buzzing noise scares the two of you away from the moment. “The aliens have succeeded in their plan to overrun the world. Better luck next time.” The two of you stare at each other for a moment and mutually decide to just get dressed. Rafe’s eyes move to your neck as you remove the belt. It’s a bit red but he’s mostly focused on the teeth indents left. 

He has a smug look on his face as you both get dressed that continues once you give him the brownies. Thank god no one was in the lobby waiting to do a room because you don’t know what you would have done if there was. You couldn’t even look Rafe in the eyes after what just happened. If he thought you were shy before then this was a new level. 

Just as he was about to leave he turned back around. You are staring at the floor watching his feet to see when it’s safe to look back up. When they don’t move you reluctantly look up at him. “I might have to come back here. Never knew being locked in a room could be so fun.” With that he walks out leaving you there shell shocked.

He’s right, being locked in a room could be fun.

[thevirtualvalentine]

His favorite things 2 do w u !

ft: Atsumu Miya, Shōyō Hinata, Kozume Kenma, Ushijima Wakatoshi, & Kiyoomi Sakusa.

warning(s): tooth rotting domesticity, gn!reader + no pronouns used, nudity in kiyoomis (you shower together), nerd!shō (canon), autistic coded kags, established relationships. thrown in kenma bc I love nerds.

notes: hq has me in its cold slimy grip, sos. Divider by @dollywons !

Being a pro-athlete makes him oh so busy! He’s so grateful to have a honey at home who loves him.

ATSUMU MIYA … helping him redye his hair. Around every month and a half ‘Tsumu and you take on the task of making him a fake platinum blond. He can thank you for the correct mix of toners to rid him of that nauseating yellow hair.

While it may be about him, he’s watching you intently in the mirror. The way you take care of him and make him feel oh so handsome. He’s used to getting the job done himself, but he trusts you and wants you to be there for him in this small gesture.

During those 2 hours, the world is silent and it’s just you and him in your shared bathroom. You donning one of his old shirts and nothing else while you, “make him sparkle.” He really is a diamond in the ruff, in need of your polishing.

TOBIO KAGEYAMA… doing nail care together. While yes, it sounds peculiar, we all know how deeply Tobio cares about the state of his hands. They’re fundamental to his everyday life on and off the court. After watching him prep the night before a game by filing his nails, you asked him to let you help. “Here baby, let me,” you offered, taking his much larger palm in your own as you round out the shape.

It became a habit between you not long after, body doubling as you both take care of your hands or trading off doing each other's. It’s a simple thing really, but he can’t help the light smile that finds him in those moments. Tobio can’t explain in words why it makes him feel so loved.

But you know his true feelings as a quiet show functions as white noise in the background, his hand in yours prepping for yet another match. He appreciates the intimacy of silence together.

SHŌYŌ HINATA … watching One Piece together. Growing up, Shōyō didn’t have friends who engaged in his interests as deeply as he did. It took you 5 months into your relationship to realize he also liked the show because he was scared you might tease him.

It led to a deeper conversation about things you both liked and the two of you have been closer than ever. Engaging in each other’s hobbies even if you didn’t know what it was about.

Now, it’s a ritual you both do every Sunday when the new episode drops. It’s shared y/n & Shō time. A sacred pact of nerds that cannot be broken. He loves that you’ll share his love for life with him, even the nerdier things.

KOZUME KENMA … cooking dinner together. Even when he was playing volleyball in high school, Kozume did not care too deeply for his nutritional intake. Food was just food, a meal was another part of the day. Even with all the money he makes now, he's ultimately unfazed by high class food. Preferring those shitty frozen dinners he can make in the comfort of his apartment.

Then he met you on campus, and the day you cooked something for him he swore he would never eat anything again if it wasn’t made by you. Maybe that phrase, “made with love,” was true when it came to you.

Now he likes to help out, meal prepping here and there. He’s quite good at cutting up vegetables actually. He’ll watch or even stand behind you with his arms snaked around your waist at the stove observing.

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA … work out. We all know volleyball is a big aspect of Ushi’s life. He’s constantly conditioning himself for the perfect physique. When he discovered that you had a similar passion for building and honing your body to its fullest capability, he was whipped.

He found it hard to be understood by others, but he really does just enjoy the simple things. Playing volleyball, working out, and coming home to you. It’s enjoyable to him to be able to do it with you and gives him greater motivation.

Every endurance run, you’re by his side and he certainly doesn’t mind altering his pace for you. It gets him a little worked up to see you sweating and out of breath though, but he’ll keep that to himself for now.

KIYOOMI SAKUSA … you guessed it, showering together. Because he grew up around sweaty boys playing volleyball all day, Kiyoomi knows not everyone is as concerned about their personal hygiene as he is. In a country full of Neanderthals, he wears the crown. But when he comes home from practice, there is only one thing he wants to do. Shower with you.

There’s something so intimate about you taking care of him in such a vulnerable space. He’s much bigger than you are, his broad shoulders from years of spiking looming over yours. Warm steam mixed with eucalyptus leaves fills his senses as you hum, scrubbing his body of any dirt from the outside world.

Your soft hands wash the tension from his body, your nails scrape against his scalp making him feel loved. He’ll never admit it but he says it’s because he likes to be clean, It’s truly because you’re the one cleaning him.

[luvhughes43]

baby loves | blake hughes au

[blake hughes au]

summary: blake and nico find out they're expecting their first baby + the announcement.

word count: 1.2k

the bitter wind nips at blakes neck and hands as she trudges back home from the corner store a few blocks away. walking it seems - is the only she was going to be getting her workouts in as she was too tired to do anything after work. she could feel that familiar fatigue now, the droop of her eyes as strangers whip past her in their cars. she had thought that she was just bored and the business of her schedule had been exhausting her, but naps became more frequent and the excuses less plausible. 

when she opens the door to hers and nico’s new place her animals quickly find her - another recent development. charlie, her doberman dog of the past 6 years, was anxious when it came to leaving blake unattended. goldie, the black cat, seemed to pick up on charlies traits and also loved to follow blake around the house. 

blakes phone rings and she answers easily, “yes i’m home now. completely safe,” 

“you shouldn't be out walking so late... it makes me nervous,” her husband replied in a thick swiss accident. she texted him where she was going out of habit, loving to narrate her day to him through brief texts. it made her feel like she was less alone when he was gone. 

“i’ll take the car next time. i was just hungry,” she supplies, setting her two heavy grocery bags onto the counter. “how was the game? i meant to watch but i fell asleep,” 

nico sighs, “you didn’t miss much” 

blake pauses from unloading her food, “i’m sorry. you guys will find your groove soon,” 

there was a brief silence on nico’s end and she could imagine the hurt and upset etched across his face from the teams losing streak. 

“yeah… uh, …” nico stumbles on his words. 

“i love you” blake speaks softly. 

nico sighs, “i love you. I’m sorry for being quiet tonight. i’m just tired of this…” the this in question being losing. 

before blake could manage a reply, the phone was snatched from nico’s hand and a surprisingly energetic jack spoke loudly into the speaker. 

“hey blakey, nico said you weren’t feeling well this week?”

“i’ve just been tired. nothing serious,” blake remarks, continuing her effort in putting her groceries away. she went a little too crazy in the small store and now she had three different salsas and a variety of chips all calling her name… 

“tired… i’m kind of tired too,” jack announces before entering his own conversation with his seatmate. 

the line went quiet again and for a second blake thought jack had hung up on her before nico’s voice sounded through her speaker. “alright well, i’ll let you eat. we’re just driving back to the hotel now so i’ll call before bed,” 

blake hums as she cracks open a jar of salsa labelled scorching, “alright love you, bye”. nico echoes her sentiments before hanging up the call. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

three boxes of pregnancy tests sit stacked under the cabinet in the master bedroom. since the teams baby shower last week, blake has had this overwhelming feeling that she was pregnant. it would explain the fatigue, the sickness, all the food, and the animals being so protective over her… she just had to wait for nico to come back home from a roadie so that she could test. 

she was anxiously sitting on the couch with charlie resting across her lap when the front door opens loudly. “blake?” nico calls out, setting his suitcase in the entryway before walking into the living room. 

“hi,” blake breathes out nervously as she wrings her hands in her lap. 

“whats going on? are you okay?” nico’s eyes melt as he tries to study blakes face. 

“i think i’m pregnant,” blake gets off the couch slowly, and nicos eyes follow her every movement. “i just have this feeling and i-”

“have you taken a test?” he asks and the corners of his mouth twitch as his excitement grows. they had been talking about starting to try for a baby a lot recently and nico couldn't wait for them to have a family of their own.

“no but i have some upstairs,” blake explains as nico grabs a hold of her hand. “i wanted to wait for you before taking any” 

five minutes later, nico and blake sit on the edge of their tub as the timer on nico’s phone counted down from 3 minutes. the newlyweds hold onto each other tightly as they eagerly await their results.

soon enough nico’s timer echoes throughout the bathroom and the two are enveloped in nervous tension as they each grab hold of two tests. with shaky hands they flip over all of the tests. 

pregnant

+

| |

pregnant 3+

“oh my gosh,” blake gasps as she turns to face nico with tears in her eyes. “we’re having a baby!”

nico’s slow to look away from all the positive tests but when he finally catches blake’s eye he starts softly crying. “we’re having a baby,” he echoes, pulling blake into a comforting hug. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

blake.hischier posted 4 months ago

liked by nicohischier, jackhughes, madisonbeer, and 37 919 others

blake.hischier late summer post🫂

tagged: nicohischier

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nicohischier Love you❤️

trevorzegras i miss the cat

user08 anyone notice how she hasn’t posted any full body / ootd pics recently? i miss them so much ive got no style inso now

user12 there’s a thread going around on twitter right now speculating that she’s pregnant and tbh i think she is!

user57 pretty girl!!💘

user94 baby hischier soon?👀

user36 i’m missing the podcast but i’m so happy that you’re moving onto new things! love you so much <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

a few months later...

blake.hischier

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blake.hischier surprise !! rudi hischier was born in november 🧸🤍

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nicohischier Our boy🧸❤️

blake.hischier im crying again 🥹🤍

jackhughes 😭😭😭😭😭

jackhughes Now tell everyone that im his fav uncle

blake.hischier well….

trevorzegras middle name: trevor ✅

blake.hischier ?

_quinnhughes You guys are already the best parents. Rudi is so lucky that you’re his mom, i’m so proud of you blakey!

blake.hischier thank you so much quinny😭

lhughes_06 whens he getting in skates ?

user01 OH MY GOD?????

user24 i remember becoming a fan of yours when u were skating and now youre a mom… im crying

user16 they had a baby😭😭🫶

user87 your “N” necklace🫠 congrats u guys!!

nicohischier

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nicohischier Rudi Hischier ❤️

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blake.hischier my boys🥹🤍

tmeier96 congratulations to you two!

holtz_10 baby hisch in the house⚡️

lhughes_06 Cutest kid

dawson1417 Congrats guys!❤️

trevorzegras about the kids middle name .. 

_quinnhughes Love you guys, congrats!❤️

jackhughes nephew looking fresh💯

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[boxofbonesfic]

Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [8]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,572

A/N: poor reader. things are not going as well as she’d hoped. we’re honestly in the home stretch, i anticipate another 2-3 chapters before we’ve arrived at our conclusion! (i also have some plans for a short prequel, so stay tuned!) bottom divider by @firefly-graphics

You stare at your husband, open mouthed as he shuts the door behind him. On the tray in his hands is breakfast, and most of all—coffee. Real coffee, swirling gently in the fancy drip . You can’t think of a single thing to say as he moves past you to set the tray down on the table. 

The scent of his cologne makes your knees tremble, it’s so familiar, so him. You haven’t seen Ransom in person in so long it feels like some sort of trick. You look down at his hands as he arranges the plates, looking for the indents left by Lloyd’s signature rings—but there is only his wedding band, sitting on his ring finger. He looks up at you. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sweetheart.” 

Your tongue is sticky in your dry mouth. “I did.” 

Ransom isn’t as good at pretending he’s unaffected—not as good as Lloyd. Brief upset flashes across his features before it’s replaced by determined placidity. It makes the rage simmering in your belly flare up even hotter at the sight of him. You’re angrier at him than you are at Lloyd. It isn’t logical, you know, to feel somehow more betrayed by your husband than his twin, but you do. You suppose Lloyd owed you less than the man with whom you had shared every hope, every dream for your future. 

“Let’s eat something, at least,” he replies at last. “You can hate me on a full stomach.” Reluctantly, you sit down at the table. You wonder if all your meals will be taken like this now, now that contact has been re-established, like some sort of strange exposure therapy. Ransom pours himself a mug of dark coffee and then a matching one for you. You don’t reach for it, though, not until you see him drink from his own cup. 

The plate before you is loaded up with fresh fruits—your favorites: cut grapes, melons, slices of kiwi—and beneath that is a fully loaded waffle, topped with fluffy whipped cream. You spear a forkful of eggs and chew as you stare pointedly at the mug in front of you instead of at him. 

Ransom isn’t like Lloyd, he doesn’t force conversation. He simply sits there across from you, eating breakfast in your prison like it’s the most ordinary thing in the entire world. 

“How could you do this?” You vomit up the question as you tremble, unable to swallow another bite. “How?” 

“We love you so much,” he begins, and you have to resist the urge to throw the plate at his head, food and all. “So fucking much.” Ransom reaches across the table to grasp your hand. “This is the only way this works, Sweetheart.” He lifts his hand to your cheek. You hate that his reassurance feels good, that you’re tempted to press your face into the palm of his hand the way you used to. A sob tears free from your throat. 

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t—”

“Do you even know what love is?” There is a cold edge to Ransom’s voice that’s unfamiliar to you, not because you haven’t heard it before, but because he never adopts that tone with you—never. “Love is doing for others what they cannot do for themselves.” You almost want to cringe away from his gaze. “You taught me that.” As his words increase in intensity you actually try to, only to have Ransom grip your chin with his free hand.“Even if it hurts.”

He sits back in his chair, and sips his coffee. “Now finish your breakfast, Sweetheart. I have a surprise.” The word surprise immediately gets your hackles up, and you can feel your stomach churning. 

“A surprise? What is it?” Ransom winks at you. 

“Eat up.” 

You force your way through the fruit—it’s sweet and ripe but it tastes like mush now as you anxiously chew and swallow. Ransom had always been a good gift-giver. It’s one of the things you’d valued about your husband, his attention to detail, his heart. That little piece of him he’d let you see, the part of him he guarded, held like a wounded bird in his cupped hands. The part of him that memorized your birthday three months in and threw a half-birthday party because he couldn’t wait that long to give you the present he’d gotten for you—a trip to Paris, to see the Louvre. Which one of these people is your husband, you wonder, watching him watch you. Which one of them is real, which is created? 

Or had you ever really known him at all?

When you’re done eating, Ransom hands you a little plastic baggie, containing an assortment of pills. A few you recognize—your pre-natal vitamins, one of your prescribed supplements—but there are some you don’t. You glare down at his offered hand with narrowed eyes before crossing your arms. 

“I’m not taking those.” You’re expecting Ransom to fight you—hell, you’re half expecting him to pin you down and force them down your throat. But he doesn’t. All he does is purse his lips, and place them down on the table. 

“We’ll revisit that.”

“We’re not revisiting anything!” You hiss. “I am not. Taking those.” Ransom steeples his fingers beneath his chin and raises an eyebrow. 

“You had no problem taking them when you couldn’t see them, Sweetheart.” Your stomach rolls. “It was my suggestion,” he sighs, fingering the little packet. “I thought you would appreciate the agency.”

“You’re still drugging me.” 

“Sweetheart they’re not roofies.” His flippancy somehow makes you angrier. “It’s all the things you were taking—perhaps a little altered for your condition, but nothing untoward. Your Celexa for your anxiety. Prenatal supplements, vitamins.” 

“I’m not taking them.” 

“Fine.” He picks the little baggie back up and places it in his pocket. Instead of tacit, clever threats like Lloyd, Ransom simply gets up. You look up at him in surprise, almost forgetting to be angry. 

“Y-you’re not going to force me?” You ask, shocked. Your husband pushes his chair back against the table. He looks sad. Really sad, like he recognizes the weight of what has changed between you. 

“No, baby. I’m not.” He turns towards the door. “But I’m not going to stay, either.” Your eyes go wide with fear.

“W-wait, why? I—”

“You’re upset. I understand, I do.” For his part, Ransom looks realistically disappointed, like he wanted things to turn out differently than they have. A sad smile flits across his face. “But baby if we’re going to build back what we had, build it stronger, you’re going to have to think about more than just yourself.”

You feel a pang of hurt in your chest at his accusation. “I’m not selfish! If any

thing—”

“Threatening to leave me? To take the baby?” Ransom shoots you a cold, disappointed look. “What did you tell me, Sweetheart? The baby will never know my name? What would you call that if not selfish?” You swallow thickly. 

That day feels so long ago now, though in truth you suppose it’s been nearly a month since you’d figured it out and everything had broken open and fallen all to pieces. It’s strange to think that that was reality in the same way that this is—that your physical body no longer occupies a world that exists only in your memories, when everything was perfect. 

“I’m going to give you some time to relax. Maybe It’s too soon.” Ransom shakes his head. “I’ll be back when you’re ready.” Your chest feels tight at his declaration. Alone? Again? You curl your fists into tight balls beneath the table, nails digging into your palms. 

“Don’t.” 

“Oh? And why should I stay? You hate me, you won’t take your medicine—”

“I’ll take it.” You mumble, and Ransom turns back around, a soft, surprised look on his face. You don’t want to go back to being alone, back to the endless hours of silence, your food delivered while you slept or bathed, to reciting movie lines just to have something to listen to—

“What?”

“I—I’ll take them. Please—you don’t…” You close your eyes.. “You don’t know what it’s like to be in here alone, day after day.”  It’s torture. The words hang unspoken from the tails of the ones you’re brave enough to voice. Tears press against your closed lids as you try unsuccessfully to keep them back. He sighs. 

“Oh Baby.” 

You hate him —you hate both of them, so much it seems to fill up every inch of you. So why do you want him to stay? Why does it feel familiar and right and good when he tucks you beneath his chin as you sob? You’d managed to hold them in with Lloyd, but you can’t with Ransom. He’s too familiar, your body knows him, thinks it’s safe with him, even when it’s not. But it’s hard not to feel that same security when he sweeps you into his arms and sits against the window with you as you whimper and cry, pressing your face into his chest. 

Ransom rocks you back and forth, rubbing circles on your back through the cotton dress. You aren’t sure what he says to you as he does so, mumbling muddy praise and promises into your hair. It’s almost worse than that day at the villa—you hadn’t been this hopeless then, this trapped. You’d thought you could leave then, that you could simply walk away from the snare they had set for you, though you never really could.

What other end could there have been?

You aren’t sure how long you sit there with Ransom, your heaving, hysterical sobs becoming hiccoughs. Listlessly you stare out at the waves, dragging the back of your hand across your puffy eyes. Wordlessly, he hands you the little plastic bag of pills. You take it from him without a fuss, tear open the corner and dump them into the palm of your hand. You consider them for a moment before lifting them to your mouth and swallowing them dry. 

—

The surprise, as it turns out, is books. 

Ransom brings in a brightly colored bag from the hallway as you sit sniffling on the bed, still wiping at your puffy eyes. It almost brings you to tears again as you pull out the tissue paper to reveal the prizes inside. They’re all books you’ve never read before but had been meaning to, even going so far as to put a list of them on the fridge in the apartment you shared with Ransom. Frankenstein. Hound of the Baskervilles. The Shining.

“You read my list.” 

“Of course I did,” Ransom says, pressing a kiss to your temple before sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. “It’s been up there for months.” He teases. “I thought we could read them together, like we did in college. Since you’ve been so lonely.” Something goes tight and achy in your chest at the memory of it, you and Ransom cuddled together on your narrow dorm room bed as you read him passages of Wuthering Heights and Catcher in the Rye. It’s so easy to picture it now, though you had not thought of them for months—maybe years. Your husband just a few years younger, draping his own sweater over your shoulders. 

I like when it smells like you, he’d say when you’d stammer about lotion or perfume, pressing it into your hands anyway. 

“I’d like that.” 

It’s almost like being home again, wrapping yourself in the soft comforter on the bed as Ransom begins to read. Is it so wrong, you wonder, to want to go back to when things were ordinary and perfect? Before you knew your husband and his brother felt something deeper than love, deeper than obsession for you—ownership, perhaps. You don’t want this new knowledge, as insane as that seems. You don’t want to know that your family is dependent on them, that their lives rely on your marriage in ways you never could have foreseen. Your father’s business, Nathalie’s school—all things they would lose the instant your relationship dissolved. 

And as Ransom reads, it’s almost easy to pretend you don’t have it, to close your eyes and just… listen. You’re half asleep when he shifts you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. You begin to stir, pushing at his chest, but he hums softly. 

“Just let me have this, Sweetheart. You can still hate me when I’m done.” Your husband holds you to his chest, stroking your hair until you fall asleep. He holds you like that for a long time, listening to the sound of your breathing. With a sigh, Ransom lowers you down to the mattress. He’s arranging your books on the bedside table when the sound of the keypad draws his attention.

“You’re bringing her presents already?” Lloyd drawls from the threshold. “I thought you said she wasn’t ready.” Ransom rolls his eyes. He knows what jealousy looks like well enough on his own face to know it on his brother’s. 

“I said that a week ago,” he says softly. “And keep your voice down. You know we had to lower the dose on the sedative.” Lloyd leans against the bedpost, watching as Ransom fusses over you. “Besides. You got to see her yesterday.” He shoots a glare at his older brother. “You took a fucking bath with her. You always have to be fucking first, don’t you?” 

It’s Lloyd’s turn to roll his eyes. “I don’t interfere in your relationship, you don’t talk shit about mine.” He smooths a hand down your cheek. “I called the doctor. He said he’ll be here Monday.” 

Ransom nods. “Good.” A small smile crosses his lips. “I think she’ll be excited to see the baby.” He rests a hand on the ever-so-slight curve of your belly, and Lloyd snorts. “With our luck, it’ll be twins.” You shift, mumbling something in your sleep as your face twitches. Lloyd kisses your forehead. 

“Shh, baby. M’right here.” His hand replaces Ransom’s on your belly. “We’re not going anywhere.”

—

“A doctor?” You stare at the two of them incredulously. “Here?” Lloyd scoffs at your shock. 

“Come on, Princess. It’s not like we’re in space.” He pats you affectionately on your hip. “Besides, you’re due for a checkup. Don’t you want to see your little nugget?” His words twist your stomach. You had scheduled an ultrasound for when you returned from Mykonos—not knowing, foolishly, perhaps, that you never would. I wonder what they told Dr. Pashik. 

Ransom and Lloyd are wrapped around you like snakes; your husband curled around you from behind, while Lloyd has draped himself across your lap, tracing circles on the exposed skin of your thigh where the dress has ridden up. They’d come into your room sometime early that morning while you’d still been mostly asleep, taking up residence on either side of you while you mumbled groggily. Of course Ransom and Lloyd had not come empty handed, bringing with them more gifts; books, card games, even a portable device they told you you were allowed to watch movies on. Of course, upon discreet investigation there were only streaming apps installed on it, no browser, nor any way to reach the outside world. It was password locked for extra security, which neither one of your lover-turned-captors had yet supplied you. 

You rest a hand on your tummy. “I am excited,” you say finally. “I guess… I’m surprised.” Until now, they had not allowed you to see a single person other than them—in fact you wouldn’t have known there were more people here than the three of you had Lloyd not pointedly told you. “What kind of doctor treats a prisoner?”

“You’re a patient, Princess.” Lloyd corrects you. “Not a prisoner.” He kisses your thigh. One who enjoys a discreet, hefty payout. 

“Someone you know from work?” You ask snidely, and Lloyd laughs. 

“Maybe when I can trust you, I can tell you.” He winks at you. You know your brother-in-law does work for “the government” but you aren’t really sure which government. You get the feeling he has no loyalty in that regard, though all you have to go on is your own baseless assumption. Your thoughts turn to the doctor, and you wonder if they might be sympathetic, despite Lloyd’s money. If you’re even allowed to be alone with them—in all likelihood you probably won’t. If Ransom and Lloyd have been anything they’ve been careful, you doubt they’d make such a rookie mistake this far into the game. Not now. 

You smile sadly. “I don’t think you’ll ever be able to trust me.”

“Oh Princess, I don’t know about that. After all, look at us now.” A lump forms in your throat. “All cozy like. I think you feel a lot more comfortable than you want to admit.” You swallow against the lump that’s formed, thick and sticky in your throat. 

“I just know there’s no use trying to push you off.” 

“Okay, Princess.” Lloyd blows you a kiss. “Whatever you say.” 

It is warm and comfortable between them, and as much as you hate it, Lloyd’s hands do feel familiar and right on your skin, though you don’t want them to. It occurs to you once again that you don’t know what’s in those neat little pre-packaged pill bags that they’re giving you, and as much as you don’t want to bask in the sudden intensity of their affection after weeks of stark purposeful isolation, you still can’t help yourself. It doesn’t help to know the rules of the game when they’re still playing it so effectively. All you can do is watch as Ransom and Lloyd move you around the board, to ends you can only imagine. 

“When is the doctor coming?”

“Tomorrow,” Ransom says, squeezing your hand. “I think we’ll hear the heartbeat, you’re far enough along, you know.” He sounds excited. You know he is—Ransom has always been excited at the prospect of fatherhood. He’d been downright encouraging when you had brought up going off your birth control, if the things he’d been growling into your ear as he rutted into you in your bed were any indicator, and they were. 

“We still haven’t talked about names.” 

“I had a list going but it was on my phone.” 

“Maybe we’ll take a look at it together soon.” Ransom’s hands drift to your shoulders, rubbing at the tense muscle knotted underneath your skin. 

“Will we get pictures?” You ask. “Of the ultrasound?” 

“Of course.”

“Then… will you send them to my parents?” His hands falter, and you turn to look at him. Your husband’s expression is unreadable as he glances down at his brother, an entire conversation passing between them wordlessly. You feel that same pang of old jealousy creep up into your chest, and you swallow it down. “I just—they… they would want to see.” 

“Maybe.” He says at last. 

“Where do they think I am?”

“I don’t—”

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You ask, shifting away from him, from the both of them. “Please. Tell me something. Anything.” Lloyd shakes his head with a frown, but Ransom sighs. 

“You’re in a very expensive hospital in Austria.” 

“My father wouldn’t believe that,” you say, shaking your head. You know your family—they wouldn’t just swallow some paper thin excuse just to get back to their lives. Would they? “He-he would want to see me.” 

“Your father is very busy with his business, Princess,” Lloyd cuts in effortlessly. “He has so much to worry about, and then there’s Nathalie’s classes…” he shrugs. “They trust us to take good care of you.” 

“So let us take care of you.” 

You’d suspected you had no tears left to cry, that perhaps you’d cried them all already. But as always, you manage to surprise yourself with more from the seemingly unending supply inside you. You want to push away their hands as they pat and comfort you, hushing you and wiping at their tears with the pads of their thumbs. It’s the only comfort you have, especially knowing your family isn’t looking for you. Why would they? You remember the bitter, bitter arguments you’d had with your own father when you had decided to move out. They relied on you, needed you—you contributed to more than a third of the bills, there was simply no way around it. You were hurting the family, damning them with your independence. 

“Have you ever thought about anyone but your goddamn self?” Your father had never apologized for that night, and like a dutiful daughter you never brought it up again because how could you? You were the oldest, junior mom, de-facto parent. Something shatters inside you at the thought, and you feel it almost like physical pain. I wonder if they can hear it. 

You don’t know when the arms around you begin to feel like solace instead of suffocation as you weep against someone’s warm chest—you cannot be sure, not through your blurry, red-rimmed eyes. But as your fingers curl into his shirt, and another warm set of lips presses against your hair, you wonder if perhaps this is why they chose you. 

Because who didn’t love to tinker with a broken doll?

to be continued…

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️