#it’s like therapy but also escapism at the same time

[defire]

As an abuse survivor, you are just fetishizing child abuse. Plain and simple. Call it a coping mechanism or a power take-back all you want, but it's just an excuse to write porn about child abuse. I pity people like you, truly, I do. I can only pray that you eventually see a therapist about your internalized pedo behavior.

Cw: RANCID ask ⬆️

I'm so glad you brought this up because I don't like to speak for people like you--I'd rather combat these opinions directly.

Since you're praying, I'll feel free to make biblical allusions. (Tw)

First, the word "fetish". My opinion: I don't find fetishes or porn too helpful for processing trauma--it's more like exposure therapy. At some point you do need to actually grieve and process what happened. I don't judge those who do that (you're not hurting anybody♥️), but that's not what Survivor Fiction is for.

When you're judging whether something is bad or good, you can use the "tree by its fruits" concept. Basically, if a tree produces good fruit, it's a good tree. If it produces bad fruit, it's a diseased/bad tree.

So let's look at what Survivor Fiction does for survivors specifically.

It brings healing. I (a new author!) have already received five testimonies that have said how much my writing helped them move through some of their trauma and see things in a different, calmer way.

Survivor Fiction brings peace. A surprising amount of the community--90.5% in a poll involving 1,543 voters--use whump stories to go to sleep at night. (Many trauma survivors have difficulty sleeping from flashbacks. Fiction along the same lines can offer an appropriate sense of distance from the fear.)

It helps disabled people. It appears that a strong majority of our community is autistic. Part of the diagnosis is emotional dysregulation. We need to be walked through how to do things in great detail. Survivor Fiction often walks the reader through the process of trauma, reaction, ptsd, and recovery.

It spreads awareness. Survivor fiction is often more accurate to real-life abusive situations instead of glossing it over--in other words, LYING--about what goes on. This can bring a 3rd party perspective to a current victim too, giving them the understanding that they are being abused and need to escape if possible.

For a more thorough explanation of why fiction about survivors is good and necessary, see this post.

Okay, so would "bad fruit" look like? Do you see any of the following from our community? ↙️

Doing these things in real life

Being generally hurtful of others

Hurting children in real life

Harming emotions by pushing unwanted content to people who would be triggered by it? (Quite the opposite, we tend to post exhaustive content warnings before the content.)

Something else that's actually wrong and not just a thought crime?

And here's the fruit of your words, which I'm sure we all heard the jist of many times before:

You encourage covering up evil. Trying to hide fiction that more accurately describes pain, abuse, and PTSD means hiding the truth. Stifling the exposure of just how evil it is to abuse someone like this. The righteous walk in the light, but the wicked hide their deeds in the darkness.

Your words are shaming. Shame causes pain to fester and act out in harmful ways, such as repeating abuse cycles, self-harm, and dangerous overreactions. Christian ideology here--shame is what caused Adam and Eve to hide from God.

You are lying. You implied that we harm people in real life without any reason to think so. And also implied that we want to be in the aggressor's position. Generally speaking we identify most with the victim.

Referencing Christianity here, if you're christian--Your words condemn the Bible. The bible is full of stories much darker than most of what is written here. You'll read about rape, and the cannibalism of one's own children in Lamentations, among other things.

You're hurting yourself. You will be judged with the measure you judge others with. This is because if you judge others harshly for their thoughts, you'll instinctively judge yourself just as harshly. You end up hurting yourself and others over something that wasn't even doing any harm in the first place.

Causing confusion. What you said was illogical. If it's fiction where the damage occurs, we should be blaming the fictional aggressor--not the writer reporting it. If it's reality where the damage occurs, we should be blaming real criminals--not the journalist. The truth is that writing about survivors isn't generally harmful.

In short, you're creating a lot of problems and not helping. Did this ask come from a loving place?

This answer I'm giving, does.

[celestie0]

i've always wondered have you ever given the y/n in your fics a personality description? like everything about her just ties the whole story together yet the reader can actually, embody her in some way?? that's one of the things that makes your writing so enjoyable to read and i've always wondered if you see yourself in her when u write ;

IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT BUT i hope u know what i mean 💔💔

love u loads btw you're like my comfort writer as we speak

GASP i have neverrr actually, i dont think i’ve formally sat down n really given any of my characters personality descriptions i just kinda have a vibe of them in my head haha but this has intrigued me 🤔 I KINDA WANNA MAKE EM NOW!!! (i hope this is what u mean by character descriptions btw hahah)

kickoff reader.

i think she is a little self conscious at times, easily affected by things going on in her life, definitely tries to bite off more than she can chew, and she’s an anxious avoidant until she can’t take it anymore and becomes overtly confrontational instead alskdjdh i think this can be seen in the way she confesses to gojo, in her interactions w kai, and then also her turning down the newsletter job before she realized it was actually a good opportunity, etc etc. when i write for her, i kinda wanna give the vibe of tired college student that has a lot going on in her head n in her heart, but she’s slowly starting to learn to live again and is looking forward to life after college (aka me all of my senior year loool) i think she has a pretty neutral personality overall :0

in holy matriphony reader.

omg i haven’t written much for ihm reader yet but i already ADORE her so so so much based on what i’ve got planned for the series, and i think i understand her the most of the oc’s i’ve made. she is someone that gets crazy tunnel vision, can only really focus on one thing at a time, often neglects her other responsibilities if it means getting The Main One done, she is hella jaded because of all the financial stress, work stress and caretaking stress which means she doesn’t have much of a filter anymore, she’s very cynical and pessimistic and easily irritated and prideful BUT…..deep down she’s a huge softie and is actually very self aware of her flaws n just really wants to get better but she just can’t find a moment to breathe…im gonna enjoy writing for her bc i think she’ll come off irrational and a bit over the top at times, but in those soft moments, she’ll be very down to earth :)

in another life reader.

aww i haven’t had too much written for ial reader yet, but in my head i picture her as a veeeery soft spoken, sweet natured woman in her older age (she’s engaged to nanami, who i imagine has mellowed her out in comparison to when she dated bad boy choso lol), idk i think she’s kind of basic 😭 not that that’s a bad thing at all, i kinda wanted that dynamic of crazy rock star lifestyle choso mixed w simple lifestyle reader (for when they meet again later in life). when she was younger, she was highly impressionable, often thought she was more mature than she actually was, n loves veeeerryy deeply, so much so to where old scars hurt even after years and years. i think she always tries to do the right thing, but bc of her conflicting emotions, she has the capacity to cause a lot of hurt

AHH idk this is just the vibe i get from them or try to encapsulate while i write them, and i also totally think readers can have diff interpretations of them than me and still be accurate about it (idk as the author i don’t feel like i even know everything ab my own stories sldkdjdh at times i feel some of my readers know more than me haha)

i think kickoff reader is the most confusing in my head, but i like it that way because i suppose she’s the youngest and she’s in college and it makes sense for her since she’s figuring herself out

i definitely do see myself in all of them!! i have certain attributes i share n some that i don’t. for example i don’t think i’m as brave as kickoff reader (to pursue passions or confess to a boy so brazenly or slap tf outta someone at a bar LOL) and i don’t think i’m as crass or no-filter as ihm reader for example, but i definitely relate to certain aspects like the tunnel vision, anxious avoidance, and stuff like that!! but i still try to make them their own characters i suppose, but it really depends on how i want their personalities to mesh w the love interest as well

GOSH THIS IS A LONG FUCKIN ANSWER MY BAD i was just so intrigued by this ask xD i’m soooo sososoossooo happy to be your comfort writer and that you enjoy my works 🥺💕you guys keep my passion alive n i’m always so grateful for you all <33 have a wonderful day/night!! 🧚‍♀️✨ilyy

[thereweredragonshere]

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Gobber must be so fucking fed up with Hiccup and Stoick at all times. Like he grew up with Stoick being a stubborn ass and then Stoick had a child who grew up and is also a stubborn ass.

I cannot imagine having to deal with one Haddock let alone two. Especially httyd1 era where they could barely even be in the same room as each other without there being audible cricket noises oh my fucking god. He would have been a permanent mediator between the two. Constantly listening to them complain about eachother (Which we do actually see in httyd1 funnily enough).

Them two actually beginning to fix their relationship after the red death must have been so great for him. Because yes his best friend and his sort of adoptive son thing are now actually engaging in healthy father son activities with one another but he also no longer has to deal with being sandwiched between two fucking donkeys that can't properly communicate.

But hahaha Gobber your torment doesn't end there. No no no you then have to deal with two of the most dramatic people in the archipelago (why does no one mention how dramatic Stoick is???) constantly wittering in your ear about different plans or inventions or wars and dragons and blah blah blah. You can never escape the incessant rambling of the two idiots you got cast to hell with. You will be forced to listen to a father and son that don't see any reasonable value in agreeing about things like 34% of the time and you will have to either pick a side or attempt to deescalate the awkward glances and frustrated sighs when they are forced to be around each other after a particularly bad episode of being unable to affectively have a conversation about their thoughts and feelings because they're both emotionally repressed and could both use some therapy.

Gobber has seen every single side of the relationship between Hiccup and Stoick and the whiplash from witnessing a heated argument about the meaning of existence itself in the morning and then watching as they joke and laugh about some random crap literally no one understands in the evening will probably end up breaking Gobber's psyche at some point.

That man's life was pain and suffering incarnate and it was purely the fault of the Haddock family.

[memetic-trigger-hazard]

Trope blender strikes again!

Since the formation of the Justice League Dark to deal with supernatural threats, Diana had been acting as the team's 'Superman' for lack of a better term.

It was, however, not a position she was entirely suited to, as ironically enough when engaging supernatural threats she was better suited to the same role that Batman played in the Justice League, engaging with superior training, tactics and specialised tools while also acting as battlefield tactical command.

With the lack of any other candidates however, she made do. But not for long.

Thanks to a wandering little girl, Diana had gained a new cousin and uncle who were refreshingly free of the hubris of the Greek pantheon, as well as an unexpected (and terrifying) meeting with her Grandfather who was far different from the stories, she supposed death and a few millennia would calm someone down. She was pleased however to add some paternal family members she could enjoy calm moments with.

Her Uncle was willing to help, however his backlog from the previous King in addition to the repairs and ongoing negotiations for reparations with the United States government made her feel guilt for placing further demands on him.

Her younger cousin however was more than happy to "get out of the house", her Father's comments about the expansiveness of a TARDIS castle completely ignored.

Ellie was already training with her old friend Pandora (So many happy reunions) so Diana was more than willing to take her to Themascerya for an initiation to the Sisterhood of Amazon's. Danny was ecstatic that his daughter was making friends.

Now Ellie as Banshee is JLD's front line fighter and Diana is the tactician, a dynamic duo of their own. Diana is so proud of her little cousin.

Which is why today was very..... Strange.

~

Basically the JLD have to head to the Watchtower for some threat, Ellie is super pumped because SPACE and Diana is excited to take her smol bean cousin to the Watchtower for the first time.

Batman and Co arrive and Drama TM occurs because "Holy shit that little girl looks like a Talia with blue eyes", Damian starts accusing and mouthing off, Ellie freaks because her Dad has warned her about the League of Assassins, so she freaks and bails.

Diana is explaining who Ellie is, how they're related when Uncanny Valley Danny in human form comes out of a portal in his "Royal Casual" work attire. Loose jeans,button up with vest, fluffy slippers with a coffee mug in hand. He's facing Diana, paying 0 attention to who else is there beyond "cool space station".

"Hey niece, why is my daughter running through my castle screaming about killer birds?"

"Ah, I believe she is referring to Robin being a former member of the League of Assassins." Diana replies.

Batman and the rest of the Justice League are tense, assessing this possible ally who RADIATES power and death. Anyone affected by death can feel it like static in their teeth during a lightning storm. Those who have been into the Lazarus Pits feel safe yet the overwhelming urge to KNEEL BEFORE YOUR KING.

"Well shit, someone actually escaped from the Fruit Loop Supreme? Anyone who gets away from my asshole grandfather is alright by me." Danny replies as he turns to look at the various heros, taking a sip from his mug.

"Danyal?" A faint hopeful whisper as Damian takes his mask off to look at his Brother (HOW, HOW? HE LOST HIM HE'S HERE HOW?) His dead twin somehow here and changed so much.

*Slurp*

"Well shit, didn't expect this."

This entire time Bruce's brain is making crunching noises.

It's not the extra son that's apparently God of the Afterlives. It's not the granddaughter.

Diana is his son's niece. Bruce had sex with his grand niece. Barbara is right, he needs therapy.

[roosterr]

Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol

the 141 when you have amnesia – p2

note: i have received your therapy bills :)

wc: 5.2k

warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise

ao3

[part one]

price

✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.

✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.

✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.

✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.

✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.

✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.

✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.

✹ the base is dull without you.

✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.

✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.

✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.

✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.

✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.

✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.

✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.

✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.

✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.

✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"

✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.

✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.

✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.

✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.

✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.

✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.

✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.

✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.

✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.

✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.

✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,

✹ "i remember you now."

✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.

✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.

✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.

✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.

✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."

✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"

gaz

✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.

✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.

✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.

✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.

✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.

✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.

✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.

✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.

✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?

✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.

✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.

✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.

✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.

✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines. 

✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.

✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.

✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.

✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.

✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.

✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.

✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.

✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.

✹ "i'm not really paying attention."

✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.

✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."

✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"

✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.

✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.

✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.

✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.

✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"

✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"

✹ "just piss off, you prick!"

✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.

✹ "what's wrong? are you–"

✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.

✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.

✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.

✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,

✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"

✹ "you read my mind."

soap

✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.

✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.

✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.

✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.

✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.

✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.

✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.

✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.

✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.

✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.

✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"

✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"

✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"

✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"

✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.

✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.

✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.

✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.

✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.

✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.

✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.

✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.

✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."

✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"

✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"

✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."

✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.

✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.

✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.

✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.

✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.

✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.

✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.

✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.

✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."

✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."

✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.

✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.

✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"

✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.

✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.

✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.

✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.

✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.

✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"

✹ "i'll never forget you again."

ghost

✹ he avoids you like the plague.

✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.

✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.

✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.

✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.

✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.

✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.

✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.

✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"

✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.

✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"

✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.

✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."

✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.

✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.

✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.

✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.

✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.

✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.

✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up  around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.

✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.

✹ "i remember, si."

✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.

✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.

✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.

✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"

✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."

[remlionheart]

Hello beautiful

Can I put in a request where Megumi and reader both have a partner but are fully attracted to each other and Megumi of course plays it stoic, indifferent etc. but then something happens( I haven’t figured out what event exactly, maybe they get drunk at a party?I’ll leave it up to you 🤍) and they succumb to their needs( a little coercion from Megumi oops) and Megumi is just so pussy drunk, whiny, non sensical blabbing mess and reader baby traps him 🥴🥴

I just need Megumi so bad, he plagues my mind every second of the day… I need therapy and Jesus. Thank you if u decide to go with it, love everything you do 🤍🤍🤍

Hi pretty ♡ Sorry to say - no Jesus here, but maybe this can be therapy for both of us bc I’ve been thinking about this ask heavily since I got it. And what better time to start a depraved lil drabble than at midnight on the night of a full moon? 🌙✨

((as always, all characters are aged up to 21+, if u don’t enjoy that feel free to scroll along ♡ all trigger warnings are in the request itself, lemme know whatcha think, luv u ✩࿐࿔ ))

⋆˙⟡MDNI ⋆˙⟡

Megumi’s new girlfriend was sweet, kind, cute. Always by his side no matter what and tonight was no exception.

She was smiling at you with her hand wrapped delicately over his arm, asking you how you’d met your date… who was also, at your side and wrapped around your arm. He was cluelessly bantering back and forth with her while you and Megumi exchanged the same pointed look.

It was subtle, the way his blue eyes lingered on your boyfriend’s hand placement, watching him gently squeeze your hip as he laughed at a joke that two of you had missed entirely.

You'd only been been dating this most recent fling for a few weeks - it was hardly anything to be jealous of, but the fact Megumi had noticed at all gave a sick part of you satisfaction. It was an unspoken rivalry you had with him, one that you typically found yourself on the losing end of. He’d fuck someone, so you would too. He’d date someone, so you would too. He’d show up to this stupid fucking party with a date, so you would too.

It was the same pitiful dance that you'd been doing for the last year and a half, your feelings for him always right on the tip of your tongue but never at the right time.

Watching his girlfriend rest her head on his shoulder as the four of you continued on with your mindless banter was your own personal hell and yet, you said nothing. Instead, mirroring them, clinging onto your own date harder as you pretended to care about whatever work story was being tossed around.

The night carried on like this for the next hour or so as the once small house party started to evolve into something rowdier. The music getting louder and the living room getting more and more crowded as you knocked back three more drinks.

You were dizzy, trying not to lose your balance while you excused yourself from your group to go venture upstairs in search of a bathroom. Your boyfriend had offered to come with you, but you insisted that you were alright, shooing him away with a smile as you told him to go get another drink.

He seemed to be enjoying himself and you didn’t want that to end just because of your pathetic urge to chase after someone who clearly didn’t want you back.

Your footsteps came to a clumsy pause, a small, drunken laugh escaping you as you entered the bathroom and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your red dress was shorter than you remembered it being when you left, your hair just as perfectly disheveled as your thoughts. You steadied yourself before taking a seat, letting the music from downstairs provide you with a comfortable sense of privacy.

You had just washed your hands and were in the middle of throwing your hair into a bun when the door opened unexpectedly. Your ankle almost sprained from how quickly you’d whipped around, your heart stalling in your chest as Megumi looked back at you with the sound of the lock latching behind him.

“The hell are you doing, Fushiguro?”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his arms folding over his chest as he rested his back against the door. “Since when do you date coworkers?”

You almost laughed you were so stunned, your posture straightening a bit as you continued to keep your attention focused on your reflection and not on him. “Since when do you care who I date?”

“I don’t,” he shrugged, “just don’t want to hear you complain about it later when things don’t work out.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a stupid smile at how annoyingly apathetic he had to be at all times. “And you felt it was necessary to follow me into a bathroom to let me know that?” You countered, finally turning to face him.

It was the first time all night that you’d seen his stoic demeanor start to waver.

His eyes narrowed as he raised his brow at you, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “You’re drunk.” He quipped, taking a slow step towards you. “Just because your boyfriend’s careless enough to let you go running around by yourself doesn’t mean I am.”

Your throat was suddenly dry at how close he was to you, his tidal wave eyes flooding your senses as they dragged down to your lips.

“Your girlfriend’s downstairs.” You reminded him, desperately trying to ignore the heat that was gathering at your center.

“I know,” he breathed, his hand traveling up to the back of your neck as he held you in place. “But you’re right here.”

“Megumi…” Your voice nearly trembled, your insides catching fire at the feeling of his lips grazing yours. “We can’t…”

Your protest was hardly convincing though - not with the way your body was having its own private conversation with his. Practically begging to be touched as he wedged his knee between your thighs just to see how much temptation you could withstand.

He knew you wanted this. Knew that you thought about it just as much as he did, if not more. You’d always followed him around like a lost puppy. Always mirrored whatever he did like your intentions weren’t glaringly obvious. He’d been fighting to restrain himself for the last year and a half. Did everything he could to not succumb to the carnal urges that plagued him every time you showed up to his house in the shortest sundress he’d ever seen. He kept himself busy with other girls - lied to himself and pretended that it wasn’t you he was thinking about when he closed his eyes and thrusted into them. But you were everywhere, not just tonight and not just right now, but always. A constant thought in the back of his mind. A task he couldn’t ever mark as complete. A gnawing, agonizing, need that he couldn’t fight for one more fucking second.

“I’m so tired of it always being someone else,” he said against your lips, letting out a heady little exhale at how submissively you were staring back at him. “I want it to be you.”

The coiling tension in your lower abdomen felt like it was going to snap as the firmness of his knee pushed at just the right angle, giving your clit a much-needed brush of friction while his words swirled lazily through your mind.

He was right- you must’ve been drunk because there was no way he was prompting you to grind on him. No way that he was parting your lips with his tongue. No way that his grip was tangling into your hair as your hips began to rock rhythmically against him. No way that he was helping lift your bra over your head all while a mere staircase separated the two of you from your partners.

There was simply no way any of this was real.

His mouth was warm against your skin, kissing and nipping across your collarbone while his hand palmed at your chest. “S’fucking pretty,” he praised, his gaze pointed at the way your dress had nearly hiked all the way up your hips as you kept riding his leg.

“Show me what you do when you’re alone thinking about me,” he panted, “just like that, don't fucking stop.” His voice was sinful bliss trailing back up your neck, your dress now only covering your midsection as he pulled the straps of it down over your arms so that the top half met where the bottom half had ridden up.

You were dangerously - pathetically, close to cumming, not caring at all who heard you as your nails dug into his shoulder blade. Your needy little clit still pushing and pleading into his leg. “More,” you begged, “please - this isn’t - fair.”

“It’s not fair?” You hated the moan that slipped out at the sickeningly sweet way he mocked you. “Poor thing." His mouth was warm and torturous in the shell of your ear. "You know what I don't think is fair?"

The whimper you let out was all the answer he needed though.

His fingers wrapped delicately around your neck - an odd sense of security laced into them despite the way they were cutting off your oxygen. “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to want you this bad.” His other hand suddenly roaming along the curve of your hip. “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to pretend not to care when you do dumb shit like dangle new men in front of me.” His lips returned to yours, catching all the little whines that were escaping you. “And I really don’t think it’s fair how hard I’m about to fuck you while he’s downstairs waiting for you.”

It definitely wasn't the sentence that should've brought you to your breaking point, but it did. His grip tightened on you, fingertips digging perfectly into each side of your neck making your vision blur and your center ache. Your moans were every bit as broken as your thoughts, your eyes not leaving his while he nodded back at you.

"That's it." His grasp slowly began to release, loosening up with each whine you let out for him. "Cummin’ so easily for me.”

The room was still hazy, electricity dancing along your skin as he gently helped bring you to your feet before turning you around. You watched him from the reflection in the mirror, a dizzy smile cutting across your face while you watched him slip your dress all the way off and bend you over the counter.

"Fuck," he groaned, admiring the slick glistening off of you as he undid his belt. He ran two fingers between your folds, his mouth slightly dropping open at how sensitive you were to his touch - the cute little noises he could coax out of you by barely doing anything and the way your back arched so perfectly for him.

"Look at me," he breathed, placing a firm hand on your shoulder as he lined himself up with you.

His eyes trailed back up to yours, his tip carefully prodding at your entrance while he watched the desperate little expression that had taken over your features. "God damn," he hissed, his breath hitching in his throat at how faithfully your walls were swallowing him.

You were so wet, your brain and body both completely enamored with the sight and feeling of him sinking into you. The waiting game you'd been playing was well worth reward and you were enjoying every inch of your prize.

He was stretching you so tenderly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. Though he'd told you to look at him, he seemed to be the one having a hard time maintaining your stare. His pretty blue eyes were glazed over, his composure starting to leave him the longer he looked at you.

"Oh my god," he groaned, "why do you feel so fucking good?"

His rhythm became harsher, both his hands grabbing onto your hips as he used you to his liking. “You know how many times I've thought about doing this, huh?" You weren't sure where your moans ended and his began, the rest of the world slipping away as he continued to blissfully bully his way into you. "Look at you, so pouty and pretty. Taking me like such a good girl."

His words made you clench, your cunt nearly suffocating him as he kept letting out more incoherent praises. He was just as lost as you were, just as dazed-out and unaware of his surroundings. The only thing keeping him grounding was the sound of you whimpering his name and how it kept getting needier and louder.

He wanted people to hear. Wanted everyone in the entire house knew that he had you bent over with your tits pressed against the counter and your ass flushed firmly against him. Wanted them to know that it was his name you sang out when you came.

“Megumi -” you whined, “right there, ohmygod, right.. the - re.”

Your walls spasmed around him, little hearts and stars suddenly filling your vision as your eyes rolled back. “Please,” you begged, chasing the blinding white light of your release as far as it would go, “cum inside me, please - fuck, don’t stop.”

He knew he shouldn’t. Knew you weren’t on birth control. Knew you well enough to know how desperate you were to keep him around. He knew all the risks. Knew what a terrible fucking idea it was and yet,

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he grunted, his movements just as needy and out of control as yours. “For me to fill you up,” he was losing himself to the thought, “to go back downstairs with me dripping down your leg? Yeah, I bet you fucking would.”

It was the worst idea. Every reasonable part of him screaming at for him to stop.

“Y - es! Please, please - ah~!”

But the sound of you begging made that reasonable part of him disappear entirely, replaced by an absolutely unhinged part of him that he didn’t even know existed until that very moment.

He wanted your belly to swell, wanted everyone to look at you and know that it was him who had bred you and that it was him who would do it again and again. He was going to make the whole world know you were his and it made him fucking feral.

He groaned, chest heaving as he gave you one last punishing thrust, burying himself as deep as he could as he twitched inside you. His breath hitching in his throat, his mind only filled with you and your body only filled with him.

A beautifully damning warmth coated your walls while you shot him the prettiest, haziest smile he’d ever seen. Both of you slowly returning back to reality.

He carefully pulled out of you, watching the mess the two of you had made spill out of you as he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around to face him.

His hands were warm against the sides of your neck, thumb placed firmly under your chin to tilt your head up towards his, “Next time you decide to shove another guy in my face,” he said, “you better make sure they’re not dumb enough to leave you alone with me.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[chlorinecake]

Rabbit Hole | S.JY

▹ PAIRING: ex fling ! classmate ! jake x f. reader

▹ GENRE: smut, scandalous, college au

▹ SYNOPSIS: In an attempt to escape your past life by running off to a new university, you end up encountering a former lover—one that you never thought you’d see again, and one that you’d soon realize was bad news all along…

▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, foul language, humiliation kink, kinda dubcon because I need therapy, mentions of anal play, ft. other idols, mild bullying, switch!jake x switch!reader, lots of dialogue, degrading kink, impact play, light bondage, oral sex (m. r), unprotected sex (not for you), hair pulling

▹ WORD COUNT: 5.9k — DAY 7

Monday

Today, your current university was hosting its annual day of orientation for newcomers and recently transferred students.

You found yourself here after being promptly expelled from your previous university, a victim of being framed after someone planted hard drugs in your gym bag—an incident that still leaves you unsure regarding who set you up in the first place…

Fortunately, however, the transition to this new college was seemingly smooth, as many of your closest friends were also attending this institution, speaking in your honor and defense to the enrollment officials countless times.

And so, as a freshly admitted student at a prestigious college located more than 100 miles from your former campus, you were eager to leave your old life and watch it burn behind you.

Though, as your cousin would often quote from one of those shitty Max Payne games he played all the time, You can't run from your past. You will end up running in circles until you fall back down into the same hole you were trying to escape from, only the hole's grown deeper.

Orientation had just ended about forty minutes ago, and like several other students, you decided to treat yourself to a nice coffee at the campus café.

However, you never anticipated running into someone you met along that gruesome 100-mile journey—someone with whom you shared a fleeting romance that you never thought you’d see again.

A fling, you might add, that you met during one of the darkest times of your life.

It was a reckless and foolish decision on your part, honestly… after all, being drunk and horny simultaneously was a combination that rarely ended well—

“I offered to pay you for sex and you said you’d do it for free!” The man shouted back at you with his frustrated brown eyes flickering behind his glasses.

And by now, everyone in the cafeteria was staring at you two—

“No the fuck I didn’t, I don’t even recognize your lying little face!” You clapped back, standing up from your table now as you angrily started shoving all your belongings back into your backpack.

A couple of pencils awkwardly clattered to the floor, but you didn’t bother to retrieve them. They were from Amazon and made your notes from orientation look terrible anyways… cheap fucking ink—

“You were a kinky bitch, too… wanted me to call you mommy while I fingered your asshole in doggystyle and everything.”

“Oh, your pervy little imagination is really running wild today, isn’t it?”

“You keep saying calling me ‘little’ when you could rarely even take me without being prepped!”

“I’m calling you ‘little’ because I don’t even know your fucking name for crying out loud!”

“It’s Jake, and you know that already, so quit playing dumb… you also told me your name when we hooked up in August, but it was probably a fake one since you thought I’d be stupid enough to not remember your face…”

Zipping your last backpack compartment, you sighed at his words, “I’m sorry to hear you’ve mistaken me with someone else, Mr. Jake, but you have to stop with these false claims… I’m not the girl you slept with…”

“Seriously?” he scoffed, shaking his head at you in disappointment as his gaze roamed over your entire frame… “You’re even wearing the same bra…”

His voice trailed off, and you stared at him with wide eyes as if he had just plunged a rusty knife into your miserable gut.

He was right. He was honest… and there was no escaping him now that he had figured you all out.

“I’ll see you in class this week,“ he sighed sullenly before walking off, looking back at you once before fully exiting the shop.

You made a mental note to never let him humiliate you again… even if you couldn’t physically prevent it, you planned to avoid it at all costs…

Tuesday

“He said all of that in public?” Your friend Ningning asked.

“Yes, and in the middle of me ordering my coffee, too…”

“He’s so disrespectful,” Minji added.

“Despicable… he was even shouting it all at the top of his fucking lungs…”

“No one kicked his crazy ass out?”

“No… and I guess that’s a good thing because we both looked fucking insane in that moment…”

“You still haven’t told us why he said all of that to you though,” Juria went on.

“I figured it was probably posted all over the internet by now…”

And you retelling them would only make you relive the incident all over again…

“Well let’s hope not, because a video like that could really ruin your academic standing… even his…”

“I seriously can’t risk that happening again, you guys… there’d be enough proof for them to accuse me this time, too… probably speculating that I was higher than a cloud in that café…”

“Noooo, let’s not even think like that, okay baby?” Juria soothed you with a comforting hand to your back.

“She’s right, everything’s gonna be alright… this’ll just blow over like every other video online,” Minji added with a smile.

“Oh my God…” your friend Ningning exclaimed while looking at her phone.

“What? What is it?”

“You said his name is Jake, right? I just found his Instagram, and his bio has our uni’s initials in it.”

“Yea, I forgot to tell you that part, too… I’ll apparently be seeing him again in English class on Thursday… and every week after that…”

“You need to look into getting transferred to a course with a different professor ASAP,” Minji suggested.

“She can’t. Deadlines already closed for class registration,” Juria added with a pout that mirrored yours.

Though at this point, Ningning was the only one smiling.

“What now, Ning?”

“I mean… y’all are just gonna have to hear me out on this one, but why’s he highkey hella attractive?”

“Give me that,” Minji said while snatching the phone from her, only for her mouth to create an O shape at one of his pictures.

“Relax Ji, you can’t slurp his soul through the screen,” you joked, which only egged them in even further.

“You should give him a second chanceeee,” Minji continued.

“After you just agreed that he’s a disrespectful little cunt?” Juria asked sarcastically.

“Look, I’m just tired of us being the single and hot friend group. It’s not a good match.”

“Mhm… we need a beau to chauffeur us around… buy us designer bags and take us to dinner…” Ningning added.

“Yessss. I’m tired of hookup culture, I need somebody reliable… you should ask him if he has any other hot friends!”

“Ooo, or a brother!”

“You guys are insane,” you chuckle, sitting back in your chair now as you know you only have a few more minutes before class starts.

You didn’t wanna tell your friends what really happened because you didn’t want them to judge you. And although you had a good feeling they wouldn’t, you were still too ashamed to confess… to admit that you had lied to the poor guy, and needlessly to as he wasn’t even trying to get anything from you.

He probably only stopped by to say “Hi” to a familiar face, but you panicked when the truth started to come out…

Wednesday

You were so close to calling in sick and just skipping class for the whole day, simply to avoid bumping into Jake.

But you knew that was a cowardly idea that would only negatively affect your attendance in the long run.

So, after some careful consideration, you came up with your own solution; you planned to wear the most provocative outfit you could find, just to get revenge by teasing him all day.

You wanted him to experience the embarrassment he had put you through when he exposed you in the café… you craved the feeling of being in control of him again.

Though, you knew it wouldn’t be easy because part of you still had a soft spot for him…

He was so caring on all those nights, prioritizing your pleasure while still achieving his own… and then right after, he would ask you about your life, to which you foolishly responded with complete honesty every single time…

You told him about what happened at your old school, about how you were transferring to a new institution, and even details about your family life…

So, when you unexpectedly ran into him on campus that Tuesday, it wasn’t entirely shocking… he had even followed you on Instagram that same day, tagging you and other students under a post entailing his excitement about “finally starting his academic journey on the right track.”

Jake was clearly keeping tabs on you, and you couldn’t fathom what he could possibly want, but you knew it had to be something, and you weren’t gonna sulk over his nice guy act any longer.

Sure, you recall him mentioning his plans to pursue personal projects, but those ambitions have to include you in some way, otherwise, why the fuck would he even be here?

The past version of you would allow such uncertainties to intimidate her, but the new you was ready to stand firm. You had to; it was the only way to change the dynamics of your relationship with him.

Thursday

Straightaway upon reaching the classroom after running up and down the halls for what felt like a second lifetime, you finally made it in.

It didn’t take long for you to spot Jake either, as he was sitting in one of the closest seats he could probably grab.

Nerd, you thought to yourself, making your way towards him with your lace-up Mary Jane heels clicking behind you.

The desks were two-seaters in this class, so you’re lucky enough to have snatched a spot with Jake before some other whore did—

“So you’re not disgusted by my lying little face anymore?” He asked almost immediately after you got settled in the chair, slowly meeting your eyes as if to shame you. Intimidate you.

“Oh I definitely still am,” you corrected, crossing your legs beneath the desk, “I’m simply just sitting next to you…”

“Right… and are you still going by that fake name these days?… What was it again… Raychel with a Y?”

“My real name is ____, alright? Not like you didn’t know that already after stalking me down online—”

He let out a breath through his nose, “I didn’t stalk you, ____—”

“Don’t call me that,” you interrupted, making him look down at his desk for a moment before snickering to himself at your tone.

Your adorably stern voice…

He always found it cute whenever you tried acting like the one who held dominance out of the two of you—

“What shall I call you then?” He asked while smirking, and you resented the way it made your insides flutter.

“Pretty,” you said plainly, and he quirks a brow at you.

“P-pretty?”

“What, do you disagree with that?”

“No,” he clarified, eyes shamelessly checking out your outfit now, “not at all…”

You were wearing a tight white button-up that exposed all your cleavage with a high-pleated skirt and heels.

And if anyone looking didn’t know any better, they’d probably think you were either trying to seduce the professor or get away with wearing borderline lingerie in public—

“There has to be a reason you approached me on orientation,” you began again, reaching in your backpack to pull out your notebooks and stationary, “why?”

“Well,” he started while clearing his throat slightly, “you can’t blame me for wanting to reconnect with an old lover, right?”

“Friend, Jake… we were just friends…”

“Okay, okay, whatever you wanna call it, but,” he whispered, leaning closer to you now as he spoke right below your ear, “wasn’t the sex just amazing… Pretty?”

You angrily swatted his hand from your thigh, to which he snickered at you.

Again.

“Listen, I’m an entirely different woman from the broken one you met two months ago… what we had was nothing,” you whisper-yelled, eyes filled with frustration.

“It certainly doesn’t seem like it was nothing,” Jake said, but his expression had lost its luster as his resting face became blank, and you’re just now realizing that your hand was gripped around his neck tie.

Click click.

The sound of the classrooms front door sounded, craning open with a loud creak to reveal the long-awaited English professor, the bustling classroom gracing her with their full attention.

“Good morning, my bright and wonderful students,” the heavy-set woman announced with glee as she walked up to the chalkboard, “anybody miss me?… No? Just my puppies at home? Okay, let’s get started then… You youngsters can call me Ms. Thompson, by the way!”

God—you sighed within yourself at her attempt to be likable despite her egregious sense of humor—Thursdays were going to be a lot longer than you anticipated…

“Uhm, Britney Spears, why don’t you come up to the board for me real quick,” the teacher said about thirty minutes into the session, and you were so lost in your head, you hadn’t even realized.

“It’s ____, ma’am,” you corrected her, not wanting to have a permanent nickname on the first day of college.

“Could’ve fooled me… anyhow, let’s make our topic of arguments a little more personal now… is there anyone in this room who you’d like to envision as your target offender?”

A smile creeped upon your face at this opportunity, “Yes, actually.”

Your eyes went straight to Jake, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know exactly who you were looking at, especially with the way his face looked now.

“Great! Come on up, Misterrrr…”

“Sim,” he said shyly, standing right beside you at the front of the class.

“Now, state your stance on the following argument, Ms. ____. Today’s topic issss,” her voice trailed off as she fished through her pile of notecards, “The Relevance of the Past in Shaping Identity!”

The classroom air grew thick with anticipation, as mostly everyone in the class had seen they way you two were acting earlier, and the café video that went viral earlier that week.

Though, given your outfit, you were already in the mood for attention today, so this was the perfect topic choice for you to spark a heated debate.

“I just think the past should be left in the past. We shouldn’t let it define who we are today.”

“Could you be more descriptive?” Ms. Thompson urged.

“Well… my view is that we shouldn’t associate any sort of relevance to our past selves and experiences, as we only limit what our future selves can achieve,” you clarified, trying your best to sound confident.

The professor nodded at your words, and you nearly giggled at the look on Jake’s face now.

“Any students in favor of ____’s stance?”

You noticed a little less than half of the classroom raised their hand, with one student in particular extending her hand above everyone elses.

“Yes, Ms. Castillo?”

“I agree with ____’s stance as I believe that humans should treat their lives as the butterfly by means of metamorphosis, where we reflect on our past, reject it, and eventually transform into something more beautiful.”

“This is especially true for victims or survivors, as they might view their past as a hinderance to their growth and finding new identity,” another boy added.

Crossing your arms, you watched as Jake cleared his throat like he always did, right before saying the most annoying shit imaginable.

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong, class. The past is crucial to our character development. You can’t just pretend you’re from a different walk of life or… I don’t know, change your hair a little bit and call it an identity swap…”

A murmur of agreement and disagreement rippled through the class up until a voice from the back spoke up.

It was Alex, a student known for their liberal insights. “Um… sorry to interrupt you Jake, that’s offensive to queer and transitioning people. Please use more inclusive language.”

A few students behind Alex snorted at their words, but Jake’s face flushed with realization, and he nodded respectfully.

“You’re 100% right, Alex. I didn’t mean to offend anyone. I just think that our experiences are relevant in shaping who we are, and that no amount of ‘make-believe’ can erase the impact of the past on both our present and future lives…”

Jake is handling this much better than you thought he would’ve, even though he was picking at his nail bed like a madman.

Ms. Thompson is quick to sense the growing tension though, and steps in before the debate lasts the entire class duration.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s remember that we’re here to learn and respect each other’s opinions. ____ and Jake, you both have valid points. The past can be both a burden and a guide, however, it’s ultimately up to each individual to decide how they let it influence their present and future.”

The class fell silent, reflecting on the professor’s words while scribbling copious notes down in their notebooks.

You flashed Jake a glance, one that he couldn’t read at first, but it still made him feel uneasy.

“So uhhh… that’s how you have an opinionated argument, everyone!” The teacher chirped awkwardly, “you may return to your seats, Mr. Sim and Ms. ____… thank you to everyone who participated in this portion… now, as we turn to page 13, we find that…”

Friday

At the end of class yesterday, Ms. Thompson assigned you and Jake to produce a group PowerPoint presentation by the following week, and you weren’t dreading it as much as you could have.

Your little tough and mean girl act seemed to have successfully scared Jake into some submission towards you… plus, you were having way too much fun teasing him everyday to turn down an opportunity to hang with him one on one.

You both were currently sitting in the campus’s private library to do research on your topic. It was relatively late in the day, so no one was there except you two.

By now, you had already punked Jake into bringing you coffee from the café that was literally a 20 minute walk away, and into agreeing that he’d produce most of the project on his own, but your fun with him hadn’t ended just yet.

Sad as it sounds, he just looked too cute while reading to himself in the grand brown chair across from you… you wouldn’t dare leave him there to study in peace, not while you were in the mood for chaos.

“Jakeyyy~” your voice sang with a cloyingly sweet melody, making his face flush with embarrassment behind his thick-framed glasses at the nickname.

Closing the book he was reading, Jake walked over to where you sat with your foot extended before him, a messy cluster of shoe strings dangling at your ankles.

“A little help here?” You continued, subtly squishing your breasts together with your arms while looking into his eyes.

“Sure,” is all he says as a small smile overtakes his feature. Kneeling down obediently before you, he took your ankle into his grasp, getting to work at re-tying the shoelace for you.

“Thanks,” you say, leaning forward to ruffle his hair as he taps your other foot, signaling for you to lift it so he can re-tie the lace there it as well.

“I didn’t just call you over here to tie my shoes though, Jake,” you whisper, drawing his gaze from your shoes and up to your eyes.

He holds back a sigh, and his chest expands because of it, “What else is it that you want then, ____—“

“Pretty,” you corrected him, moving your foot from his grasp only to let your leg fall, gently pressing the weight of your foot into his bulge, “we talked about this yesterday, Jake… you will never address me by my first name, understood?… Or is that too much to ask?”

Jake felt his whole stomach tense up at the feeling of your foot pressing into his groin, and he tried his best to get a solid answer out, knowing that prolonged silence would only bother you further.

“N-no,” he breathes out shakily, barely meeting your gaze now as the temperature in his face became hotter and hotter, with a mix of his own arousal, embarrassment, and anger, “I u-understand, Pretty…”

You let yourself smile at his compliance, releasing the pressure from your foot in his lap.

“So pathetic,” you announced, watching as he caught his breath on the ground, “I can get you to do anything for me, can’t I Jake?…”

He’s silent for a moment, making you feel impatient now that he was resisting all of a sudden.

“Jakey, I asked you a question—”

“And you really shouldn’t talk to me like that unless you want some sense fucked into you,” he retorted, making your eyes widen with genuine shock at his sudden boldness.

“Excuse me?” You asked with a scoff, but your voice gets lost in the sound of him getting up from the floor, standing over you, caging you beneath his frame in a way that intimidates you.

Jake had been swallowing his pride with you for long enough, and wasn’t gonna let another day pass without putting you in your place.

“I’ve been getting real sick of you treating me like this, y’know that ____?”

But before you can even think to answer, he’s reaching for the cup of coffee he fetched for you earlier and bringing it to your mouth, a ring of condensation glistening on the desk.

Trying to maintain your dominance, you let out a feigned laugh of amusement that Jake is quick to cut off with his stern words.

“Jake, what is this, huh?” You asked, giving him a fed up look even though your heartbeat was beating faster than the speed of light below his dark gaze.

“Drink it, ____….” He orders with a deep voice, eyes becoming so dark now that you can’t even bring yourself to refuse.

And you’re impossibly annoyed, too… by the way he’s very intentionally using your real name while simultaneously making you feel as feeble as a fairy.

Hesitantly bringing the cup to your mouth, it doesn’t take long before Jake smacks the coffee out of your hand, leaving the cold liquid to spill all over you.

“Jake, what the fuck?!” You shouted, shivering as the caramel-colored liquid trickled into all the intimate crevices of your body.

“How embarrassing,” he said, shaking his head, “making such a mess of yourself in front of me…”

Balling your fists, you look him dead in the eyes as you shout, “That was all you’re doing, you stupid fucking clutz- JAKE, s-stop that!” Your voice cracked at the feeling of his hand smacking you across the face now, surely leaving a cut in your lip as he soon went to squish your lips together into an odd shape, maintaining a painful grip.

“If only your brain was as big as your tits,” he clicked his teeth, wearing a somewhat neutral facial expression at first until a smirk started tugging at the corner of his lips…

“And now you’re crying?” He scoffs, almost as if both annoyed and amused by the moisture forming at the beds of your eyes.

During all this though, your mind was in a complete haze, not being able to wrap your head around how innocent he still looked while talking to you like this…

Hell, even his cheeks were still blushing, and you could tell he was getting harder behind his pants.

Jake caught onto your staring though, swallowing the urge to just fuck you right then and there.

“Take off your top,” he demanded, releasing your face from his grip and taking a few steps back, “I can’t believe you even want to be called ‘pretty’ while wearing such a filthy thing…”

“Who cares? You still got hard just from looking at me,” you jabbed back through a wobbly voice given your tears.

That’s when a feeling of chills ran up and down your skin, and it’s hard to keep up the tough girl act once Jake started unbuckling the belt he wore, keeping an intense eye contact with you the entire time.

“Just like old times,” he said, making your organs irk at how easily you found yourself falling down the same rabbit hole with him, but things were far too gone to turn back now. You complied with his words, sliding your top over your head and exposing yourself now, the swell of your breasts looking so delightful while cupped in the lace of your bra.

“You’re making this too easy for me,” he grinned, tossing his belt to the floor with a clink before closing the space between you both, still standing up as he slides his fingers against your scalp, gently gripping the hair.

But it feels so good that you almost purr at the contact, even though his behavior was a bit unsettling to you.

That’s when he landed another smack to your face, snickering at how loud you winced given the sudden shock of sensations.

“God, what the hell is wrong with you?” You yell at him, trying to escape his daunting frame but you have no chance against his strength, especially not while sitting down in a chair… “You’re a freak, Jake!”

You kept wrestling beneath him, provoking him to yank your arm harshly and pull you out of the chair and onto the floor, your bare knees hitting the floor with a thud.

“And you’re a little bitch,” he bit back, handling your body with ease as he situates you before him on your knees, taking your spot in the chair and spreading his legs.

And his belt isn’t too far from him now either, compelling him to reach down for it and use it to secure one of your wrists to the chair before finally shimmying his pants down.

So lost in your thoughts, you watch with a mix of fear, disgust, and anticipation at the erectness hiding behind his boxers, just as his taunting voice resounds again.

“C’mon, ____… it’s about time you make good use of that big mouth of yours…”

With teary eyes, you watch as his full length slips out, smacking against his abdomen as the burning in your restrained wrist feels worse now.

Everything feels worse now… you had never felt so humiliated in your entire life.

He tapped the tip of his cock against your lips, using a thumb at your jaw to pry your mouth open and push himself in.

And as much as you didn’t wanna admit it, you were enjoying this a lot more than expected…

You had always preferred men who were more on the submissive side, and Jake, being a nerdy introvert, was no exception to that craving.

However, you didn’t mind him getting a little rough with you either, and perhaps that’s why you felt ashamed for it… you felt vulnerable with the idea of admitting you liked being someone else’s play thing…

“Stroke me like you used to, ____… ‘atta girl,” he groaned, watching with pleasure as you let your free hand find his shaft, stroking the bass as he kept your mouth secured around the tip.

And as embarrassing as it sounds, you felt yourself getting wet just from sucking him off, the sounds of your own throat gurgling around his length being a turn on for the both of you.

“I bet you still haven’t even told your friends about what really happened between me and you, huh? Imagine if they knew your lips liked sucking my cock just as much as they liked lying…” he slithered, keeping your head angled back just enough for him to get a full look at your face while you took him in your mouth.

Jake soon catches onto the way you’re closing your thighs together as tears continue to well in your eyes, and he lets himself snicker at how needy and pathetic you looked before him...

“What is it, Pretty? Hm? Don’t want your friends to find out about how much of a raging cock-slut you are?”

You moaned softly as he gently pulled your head from around him, and a string of your own saliva and his precum keeps you two connected as he finally loosens the belt around your wrist.

“When’d you get so mean, Jake?” You asked weakly, voice a bit raspy now after taking him in your mouth.

He almost couldn’t look you straight in the eye after asking that, but he had to keep his act going… he had to put you in your place—

“I only get this way when I have to,” he practically whispered, and part of you couldn’t even get annoyed with him for it.

You felt the same just a few moments ago, and you’re just now realizing how much you and Jake really have in common—

“Get up,” he ordered, and you listened, standing on shaky legs as he pulled your panties down, letting them rest at your ankles as he stood up to meet you.

Without speaking, he simply pointed at the chair he was just sitting in, and you’re given the opportunity to choose the position.

You decide to get back on your knees, bend over the chair, and stick your bare ass out for him, and he snickered at the sight, kneeling down himself now.

He ran a hand over the curve of your hip before landing a hard smack there, his own cock twitching every time you winced.

After this, he wastes no time in gliding his cock between your folds, right before plunging his tip into your sloppy cunt and groaning at the feeling.

“Fuck~,” he cursed under his breath, trying to adjust himself inside you, “has it really been so long that even your pussy’s gotten tighter?”

“Well your tiny cock definitely didn’t get any bigger- nghh~…,” you whined through a bitten lip, trying to suppress your moaning as he started to bottom out, over and over again.

“And here I was thinking you’d actually shut up for once,” he sighed, but his voice was clearly being affected by the way you felt around him.

He had been missing this… all of it, and not even just the sex. Jake wanted more to come out of your relationship with him, but if this is how you wanted to play, so be it—he still got something good out of it.

You can’t remember what you were going to say, but your thoughts were harshly cut by the feeling of his hand pulling you up by your throat and holding you close to his body.

“Let’s see… do you still squirm while having your tits touched? Do you still squirt just from the sound of my voice?” He whispered, and your breath was so restricted that all you could do was pant pathetically.

His released his grip pretty quickly though, only for his hands to find your breasts and fondle with them as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

“J-Jake,” your voice bobbled, given the strong impact of his hips behind you, “d-don’t you fucking dare…”

“What do you mean, Pretty?” He asked, snickering now at the way your thighs trembled briefly, “you’re a flashy little bitch, but that doesn’t mean I can read your mind…”

You groaned at his words, feeling lightheaded now that his tip was brushing up against your cervix.

“Don’t… fuckkk~… don’t tell anyone about this…”

“Which part of this, hm?” He asked knowingly, “the part where I made you cry or the part where I finish inside you?”

“N-not any of it, just- please…” your words slurred, and your heart started to ache just as much as your core with a mix of worry and desperation.

Of course, you were enjoying every part of this, but you didn’t wanna face the embarrassment that’d come with it if anyone found out…

Just imagine it… how down bad must you be to (1) let a guy hit it after treating you like shit, and (2) in the middle of the campus library of all places?

He’s slamming into you so hard and fast that you lost track of your thoughts again, and the squelching sounds coming from the two of you only adds to the warmth growing in your faces—

“That’s really what you want? Huh?” Jake asked with a low growl to his voice, and all you can reply with is a string of whiny yes’s.

“Beg for it louder,” he demanded, “beg for me to keep fucking you like a good little slut…”

And you did, letting your hips bounce to a rythme with his thrusts as your high drew closer and closer to approaching.

“P-please, Jake! I’ll do anything! I’ll be a g-good cock-slut just for you if that’s what you want… I-I’ll even let you cum in me,” you stammered, only for your pleading lips to trail off as a symphony of moans ripped through your body, his harsh hand smacking your ass one more before holding you in place by a handful of your hair.

“Yea, Pretty? Want me to fill your juicy pussy up with my cum? Gonna let me fuck it back into you nice and slow? Yea?” He rambled breathlessly, panting in place of groaning so he could get his words out better.

Crying out another yes, Jake’s hip plummeted into you as hard as they could, your breasts rocking back and forth with the force until you finally felt it; your walls pulling him in as his first spurt made you shiver, and then his second spurt made you climax.

“Awww, fuck!” You whimpered, shaking beneath him as he rode out his high inside you.

It didn’t take long for him to stand up, though, and just in time to pull up his pants and readjust your panties before the library doors creaked open as a new soul joined the space.

It was a girl. You could tell me the gentle hums that bumped from her throat, echoing off of the shelves of books.

“____! Minji said I might find you studying here, so I came to check since you’ve been hiding from us… And don’t even think about scolding me for yelling in here!” The voice called out, and you immediately knew it was Juria from her accent.

She had just came back from class to return a few books that she borrowed earlier, and your heart never pumped as fast as it did when Jake landed a harsh smack to your clothed cunt while holding you in place, even though you tried squirming away.

Everything in you was fighting to avoid being caught like this, and even more so because Juria was literally 30ft away from you two.

When she finally made her way over, though, the poor girl nearly dropped the stack of books she was holding, delicate eyebrows furrowing behind her silky bangs as her lips asked the words, “What on earth happened over here?”

You were sitting beside a now standing Jake with your cold ass right against the tile floor as you lazily slumped over the reading chair, being too fucked out to bother moving.

Your hair was a mess atop your head and your outfit was totally disarrayed, foggy mascara smudged beneath your swollen eyes and your whole body reeking of bittersweet aromas.

Juria couldn’t put a finger on it, but she knew something had happened. Something off…

“She spilled coffee all over herself…” Jake eventually answered, an aura of emptiness being present in both his expression and tone… an eeriness that made both you and Juria tremble in the knees…

From that moment, he simply walked past you both, looking back only once before leaving… he glanced at you first before looking Juria straight in the eye, his expression only now softening as one last line escaped his venomous lips…

“Such a silly girl, isn’t she?…”

⋆♱✮ Thank you to everyone who made it to the end of this fic, which actually concludes DAY 7 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408

@crownj1min @jay-0n3s @gacktsa @leeknowinggg

@d-dilemma @mrsjohnnysuh

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the bite

“Yeah, we ended up trapped in their secret base underneath Hawkins.” Dustin further explains, to which everyone’s eyes widen at.  “It was fun. Spent my birthday in mortal danger.” At the same time the kids all wish you a belated birthday, which you salute them for. “Thanks, guys. I’m just happy I wasn’t gravely injured this time.” “And that Steve finally kissed you.” Dustin unhelpfully adds before Steve is covering his mouth to shut him up. His face reddens, embarrassed and nervous. Jonathan is standing too close to him for comfort right now.

Summary: steve and robin are your nightmare blunt rotation, you manage to escape a russian lair: mario cart style, you learn that therapy sessions are fun in public bathrooms, steve places your brother on the russian fbi most wanted list, el probably just killed a bunch of people (deserved), and reunions with jonathan are always special when one of you is gravely injured

Rating: general, cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of blood, graphic depictions of blood and gore, cursing

Words: 10.1k

Before you swing in: HI IM ALIVE !!! my laptop isnt ,,,, but im trying to ignore that. sincerely apologize for the wait. my laptop shits down randomly every ten minutes and my new one is backordered so ive been fighting demons to write this. i also had a hard time with the bathroom scene with robin. i wanted to get that scene just right. it took a lot of rewriting, but i think im happy with how it ended up <3 pls enjoy this child of mine. she cost me blood, sweat, and tears lmao

-

“Boop!” Steve’s finger pokes your nose and he lets out a delirious giggle. “I booped you!”

At first it was adorable, endearing even, when he booped your nose. However, he’s done this five times now in the last minute alone. That, and you’ve been trying to give Dustin directions back to the elevator while dodging Steve’s surprisingly aggressive nose boops. All while the threat of armed Russians running after the cart looms over you. “Turn left here–would you stop it?”

“Wanna boop that pretty little nose,” Steve’s glossy eyes struggle to find yours, his motor skills delayed and concerning. His left eye has all but swollen shut and you’re still not sure if his unusual behavior is due to head trauma or something else. “C’mere, angel.”

He tries to boop you again, and before you can dodge the attack, Robin’s hand grabs his finger and she lets out a pathetic scoff. “You’re hogging the boops, dingus!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yeah huh!”

Steve’s arm reaches over you and he bats at Robin. They start to hit one another, though their movements are slow and weak. They giggle as they fight, and you’re stuck in the middle of it. You try to push them off of you, but the two teens are too busy pinching each other and cackling to pay you any attention. It’s miserable. 

Erica, from the passenger seat of the cart, turns and winces at your predicament. “What is wrong with them?”

“I don’t know!” Dustin keeps his eyes in front of him as he drives, though he’s equally as confused and unnerved. Secretly, he’s glad he’s the one driving. Otherwise he’d be in the middle of a Steve and Robin giggle sandwich like you are.

“Whose hand is that?” You twist around. There’s a foreign body part that’s currently resting on your ass. Steve snickers and Robin puffs out her cheeks and giggles, neither one of them confessing. You’re about to start kicking shins when the cart comes to a screeching halt. The force of it throws you and the two teens back with a painful thud. “Christ!”

“You guys alright back there?” 

Somehow you wind up with Steve’s elbow in your ribcage and Robin’s head smacking into yours. Hissing in pain, you throw the two off of you and glare at your brother. You seriously fear the day he gets his license. “I want to die.”

Dustin turns back around in his seat and gulps. Steve’s and Robin’s own groans of pain can be heard from behind him. “They’re fine.”

Sneakers squeak against the tile floor and the doors to the back of the cart fly open. You’re greeted with Erica and Dustin, eyes wide as they take in the scene before them. You’re squished underneath the teens. You try shoving them off of you again, but they’re dead weight on you. 

“Wanna kiss again, Y/N? I really liked it,” Steve smacks his lips as his head rests against your stomach. “Wanted to do that for so long.”

Your cheeks burn at his words and your stomach flutters. You haven’t forgotten about the kiss earlier. God, you haven’t. It leaves you breathless every time you remember how it felt to have him so close, to smell him and taste him. A part of you wants to ask how long he’s thought about kissing you, but you know that the back of a cart while fleeing from Russians isn’t the most appropriate setting. 

Robin squirms next to you, her head also somehow on your stomach, pinning you down. “Can I get a kiss too?”

“If either one of you kisses me right now, my knives will be the last things you see.” The two teens make despaired noises, which you groan at. Meanwhile, Dustin and Erica continue to stand at the end of the cart, unmoving. You clench your teeth. “A little help here?” 

Dustin mumbles a sheepish apology and yanks Steve’s arm while Erica yanks at Robin, freeing you. As soon as you’re able to, you jump out of the cart and start clapping your hands to speed everyone along. “We gotta go!”

“We’re trying, Y/N!” Erica groans, struggling to get Robin up from the ground. 

You start to help, though you nearly fall when Dustin throws Steve against you. A complaint lingers on your lips, but when you see that your brother is now at the elevator doors with a keycard in his hand, you swallow it down.

Steve, however, is full of complaints. “This sucks.”

You blow hair out of your face and don’t bother responding to him. Instead, you watch anxiously as your brother swipes the key card he must’ve stolen earlier. When the scanner’s light flashes green and opens the elevator door, you exhale with relief. At least something has gone right today. 

After practically throwing Steve and Robin into the elevator with Erica’s help, Dustin hits a button and closes the door. As soon as it shuts, the room starts to move. You brace yourself, now familiar with how fast the damn thing can go.

The elevator ascends at a nauseating speed and there’s a crash behind you. Turning around, you find Robin holding a dolly in place as Steve gets on. He holds his hands out and starts to cheer as his friend snickers. They look like goddamn toddlers at daycare.

“Hey, no!” You feel like a parent, yanking at Steve’s arm to get him down from the dangerous position. The elevator is moving too fast to be messing around on. “This isn’t playtime–”

“He looks like he’s surfing, Y/N!” Robin squeals with excitement, rolling the dolly to the left.

Steve’s body twists and he steadies himself with a laugh. “I’m surfing!”

“Stop fucking surfing!”

You fight with the teens. Steve refuses to get down and Robin keeps rolling the dolly away from you. As you yell at them, Dustin and Erica exchange concerned looks. You overhear the girl mention how they seem drunk, and you’re about to tell her that she might be right, when Robin pulls the dolly from underneath Steve and sends him crashing into the ground. 

“Wipeout!”

You’re checking Steve for injuries as soon as he lands. Dustin kneels next to you and feels his forehead and winces. “He’s burning up.” 

Not liking the sound of that, you check Steve’s pupils. The room’s lighting is dim, but it’s obvious that his brown eyes are almost entirely taken over by the blacks of his pupils. “Holy shit, they’re scarily dilated.” 

“Ow. Thought you liked my eyes,” Steve swats at your hands sadly. He whines, trying to get you to let go of him. “Said you liked brown.”

“I do like brown, but I also like when you don’t act like a three year old.” You soothe him before turning to Dustin. “Any idea what it could mean?”

“Maybe he’s drugged?” Erica suggests.

You frown. “Could explain why he keeps trying to–” Steve reaches up and boops Dustin’s nose. He giggles and your brother looks annoyed. Sighing, you finish what you had been trying to say. “Boop people. Why he keeps trying to boop people.”

“Your turn, angel!”

Dustin intercepts Steve’s finger, which you’re grateful for. He gently smacks the teen’s face to get his attention. “Steve, are you drugged?”

“How many times, dad?” His voice drips with sarcasm and he rolls his eyes. “I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.”

“Since when do you smoke?” 

“Y/N, focus.” Dustin dodges another incoming boop and swats Steve’s hand away. “This isn’t funny, okay? We need to know what they did to you.”

“C’mon, honey.” Your fingers run through Steve’s hair. Parts of it have dried blood. Something more than a beating happened to him and Robin, you just don’t know what. If they’re really drugged, you have no way of knowing if they’ll be okay, and a part of you is terrified. “Work with us, please. What did they give you?”

“Are you gonna die on us?” Dustin asks, concerned as well.

“I’ll tell you!” Robin shouts from the corner she’s slouched in, eager to please you. She twirls her hair around her finger and gives you an unsettling smile. “We all die, my strange little child friend. It’s just a matter of how… and when.”

Neither you nor Dustin say anything for a few moments. Both of you blink, trying to process what exactly the teen has just said. Afraid to look away from her in case she tries to possess you or something, you slowly nod. “Okay, thank you for sharing, Robin.”

She flashes you a thumbs up and proudly smiles. “Happy to help!” 

“They’re gonna be looking for us up there,” your brother redirects the attention back to the fact that you’re all still very much in danger. He starts to interrogate Steve, trying to come up with a plan. “So I need you to tell me where you parked your car.”

“Oh, can we make a pit stop at the food court?” Steve’s eyes glaze over and you know you’ve lost him again. 

Robin leans forward and starts playing with your hair. “I would kill for a hot dog on a stick!”

You snap your fingers at the two of them. They’re impossible to level with, you’re not even sure why you’re still trying. “Guys, we need to focus.”

“No! No hot dog on a stick,” Steve suddenly lifts himself up and glares at Robin. “The guy at the counter said that Y/N she has pretty eyes. He’s an asshole.”

“You mean Dave? When the hell did he say that?”

Steve scoffs at you. “Last week. Ruined my whole day.”

“Fine! We’ll get you and Robin something else to eat.” Dustin says, which Robin cheers at, though he ignores her. “But only if you tell me where your car is parked.”

Suddenly Steve’s hazy eyes fill with remorse. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh? I don’t like uh-oh, can we not uh-oh?” Dustin nudges you with his shoulder to shut you up and let Steve explain. You mumble an apology. “Okay, why the uh-oh?”

“They took the keys.” Steve shoves his hands into his pockets and reveals that there’s nothing in them. “The Russians, they took the keys. Like forever ago.” For some reason this is hilarious to Robin, who starts to laugh hysterically in the corner. He joins her, amused by the whole thing. “That’s a bummer, right?”

You drop your head in your hands as Dustin sighs. With no keys and no way out of the mall, you’re not sure what else you can do. The only other option would be the bus that takes commuters home, but it comes every few hours and you have no idea what time it even is right now. 

Which means you’d be left with having to hide a very drugged up Steve and Robin in a giant mall swarming with Russian undercover guards for an unforeseen amount of time.

Not ideal. 

“We’re doomed.” You sigh into your hands.

Dustin nods beside you. “Yeah. We’re doomed.”

– 

When the five of you finally reach the mall, you guide everyone through the back hallway and fling the doors open. Fresh air hits your face and you take a moment to inhale. It’s only then that you notice that it’s dark outside. The air is warm, crickets chirp faintly from far away. What day is it? How long could you have possibly been down in the lair? 

As you have a minor breakdown trying to get your bearings, Steve and Robin walk behind you. Their mouths are wide open as they greet the fresh air with glee. “Oh my God, that tastes so good! Steve, can you taste the air?”

They stick their tongues out and marvel at the world around them. “I taste it!”

You watch them with your arms crossed. If you had any suspicion before that they were drugged, seeing them try to eat the air only confirms it. 

“Shit!” Dustin screams out of nowhere and grabs your hand. He tugs at you to start running. You look up and see two Russians men now running straight towards you. 

“Come on!” You grab Erica’s hand and shove her in front of you to run alongside your brother. Then you grab Steve and Robin by their shoulders and all but throw them against the mall’s door. “Go!”

“Why are we running?” Steve mopes, tired from all the physical activity he’s been forced to endure these last few minutes. 

You don’t bother answering him and instead shove him inside the second Dustin gets the mall’s doors opened. Everyone runs, though you’re not sure if anyone has an actual plan. The guard’s footsteps can be heard behind you, and all you know is that you guys need to hide until you can figure something else out. 

“Any chance you guys know any hiding spots?” You shout behind you to the kids, nearly tripping over your feet as you do so.

“No, this mall is one giant public swamp.” Dustin responds, huffing. 

Steve stumbles next to you, still obviously drugged up, yet giggling as always. “It feels like we’re running from movie villains!” 

Turning a corner, what Steve has said floats through your mind. Running from movie villains… What are the odds the Russians know about American movie theaters? They’re dark and usually crowded with people for night showings. It could be the only safe place to hide. 

“Dustin, start heading towards the theater!” Erica and your brother start asking you questions, but you don’t have time to explain. “Just trust me.”

Somehow you all make it to the theater’s doors without being detected. Poking your head through, you make sure there isn’t anyone nearby. When you’re sure it’s safe, you open the door wider and motion for everyone to follow. “Let’s go.”

Dustin guides, dragging Robin behind him while Erica follows. You stay with Steve and start walking once the others have gone ahead. 

“Awesome, movie date!” Steve exclaims with a dopey smile. He’s about to say something else when his eyes find something. Completely forgetting that you’re holding his hand, he runs towards a nearby trash can. He pulls out a bag of popcorn that had been on top of the trash pile and quickly starts shoving the food into his mouth. 

“If you ever wanna kiss me again, stop eating trash popcorn.” You snatch the bag out of his hands with a disgusted face. “I cannot believe I have to tell you that.”

“But I’m hungry.” Steve pouts, staring down at his now empty hands with despair. 

You ignore his pathetic pouting and follow Dustin, who has now flung open the curtains to the theater’s seats. He scopes the area and starts heading right. When he stops at two open seats, he points his finger at Steve and Robin. “You two, sit.”

“But these seats are too close!” Robin complains, and Steve voices his own qualms about the seating arrangements. 

However, you have other things to worry about. Shoving the teens into their seats, you wipe away crumbs on the ground with your shoe. “I’ll sit on the floor next to them. No way I’m leaving them alone when they’re high off their asses.”

Dustin looks at you, skeptical. He doesn’t want to leave you alone with them, afraid they’ll somehow get you into trouble. “You sure?”

“Positive. I’ll take care of them.” you squeeze his arm. While you understand his concern, you can’t bring yourself to abandon Steve and Robin again. Not when Steve’s face still bleeds slightly and Robin’s cheek swells with a bruise. They got hurt because of you; the least you can do is stay with them now. “Find other seats, we’ll be fine here. Just… be careful, alright?”

A man behind you shushes you rudely, reminding you where you are. If the kids don’t leave now, they run the risk of drawing more attention. You push your brother back up the aisle of seats, and he seems to understand what you’re doing. “Fine, but whatever you guys do: Don’t. Go. Anywhere.” 

“Fine, dad.” Steve glares at the kid, which you sigh at. It’s going to be a long night. 

Dustin leaves after you’ve saluted him, and Erica follows. Once they’re gone, you do your best to keep Steve and Robin quiet. As you shush them, you look up and see Dustin standing near the exit. You tilt your head, hoping he sees your questioning, and thankfully he does. He holds his radio up and mimes making a phone call. 

He’s calling for help.

You nod at Dustin, indicating that you understand, and he leaves. After you’ve checked to make sure Erica is still in her own seat at the other end of the row, you turn back towards Steve and Robin; they’re enamored with the movie playing. They whisper to themselves, not understanding what’s happening, but at least they’re quiet and out of danger. Slowly, you start to relax. 

All you have to do is stay in this movie theater until Dustin can contact the party for help. Should be simple enough. Except you make the fatal mistake of absentmindedly mentioning that you’re thirsty. “God, I need water right now.”

“Water.” Robin exhales as if it’s a prayer. Her entire face twists into longing and she hits Steve’s shoulder. “Water. Now.”

“On it!” He nods earnestly and suddenly the two of them are scrambling out of their seats. You snap your fingers at them, hiss whispered threats, but they don’t listen. They climb over you as if you’re an inconvenient bug on the ground. 

Before you can even stand up, they’re already halfway up the aisle of seats. You barely have time to get up before they’ve left the theater itself. “I’m so over them being drugged.” You huff, running after them. There isn’t time to tell Erica where you’re going, too afraid you’ll lose them if you don’t hurry. 

Those fuckers better save you some water.

– 

Steve makes you hold the button on the water fountain because he “can’t do it himself”.

“Is my help really necessary?” You complain, arms crossed as you watch Steve messily gulp water down. His neck is bent at an awkward angle and for a brief moment you truly question whether or not you find him attractive. Water drips down his chin and his gulps are obscenely loud. 

“Yes,” Steve responds in between slurps. The cold water washes over him and he’s never felt closer to God than in this moment. “That’s amazing.”

Robin stands next to you, patiently waiting her turn. “So like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but I’m pretty sure that mom was trying to bang her son.”

“In the movie?” You hadn’t been paying much attention in the theater. Your view from the ground was shitty and you were too busy making sure the idiots didn’t somehow kill themselves. However, despite your lack of attention, you doubt that’s what the movie’s premise had been about. 

“Wait, the hot chick was Alex P. Keaton’s mom?” Your hip knocks against Steve’s, causing him to choke on the water he’d been drinking. Coughing, he clutches at his chest. “I could’ve died, Y/N!”

“Sorry,” you smile sympathetically at him, feigning pity. He lost the privilege of calling other women hot after getting you locked in a Russian elevator for twelve hours. “My hip slipped.”

“Aren’t you two going to question how the guy was able to go back in time?” Robin is still focused on the whole son being in love with his mom plotline. 

Steve inhales even more water. “Then why is it called Back to the Future?”

Robin begins explaining the complexities of the movie, but you tune her out. While you appreciate that she’s trying to make conversation, you’re uneasy about being out in the open like this. There’s no one around, but you can never be too careful. It’s only when she shoves Steve away from the water fountain that you focus again. 

“Wait, I was supposed to go after him–” Your protesting falls on deaf ears as Robin steals your turn for water. Reluctantly, you step away. She can hold her own damn water fountain button. 

You notice that Steve has wandered off a few feet away. He still stumbles as he walks, though his footsteps aren’t as unsteady as they were earlier. He stops in the middle of the walkway and you join him. 

“Wow,” he breathes out, looking up. He’s mesmerized by what he’s seeing. Curious, you look up as well, though you only see the skylights above. It’s night, no natural light flows through the panels. Yet Steve stands transfixed next to you. “The stars.”

“The stars?” You’re not sure what he means. You can’t see the stars from where you stand. Then again, you suppose he could be seeing things, given that he’s heavily drugged up. 

“The stars are pretty like you, angel.” Steve says, eyes still on the sky, yet his hand somehow finds yours. He intertwines your fingers together and is able to pull you closer, albeit weakly. “You’ve always been so beautiful… scared me when we were younger.”

Your breath catches and you look at him. He’s looking up, seemingly unaware of the effect his words have on you. An overwhelming warmth fills your chest. You want to say something, tell him you love him and that his beauty last July had terrified you. 

But you don’t say anything. Steve is still high, he wouldn’t remember what you’ve said, and you want your confessions to sit within his chest the way his sit in yours. Instead, you find yourself admiring him. You study the length of his neck. The mole that rests just below his jaw and the others that litter his pretty face. His nose, the dip of his chin. The hair tucked behind his ears. His eyes.  

Steve Harrington is beautiful. Scars and all. 

Then he starts to gag and quickly the moment is ruined. 

“Oh, God.” You quickly grab his shoulders and frantically look for the nearest bathroom. In your haste, Robin reacts to Steve’s sudden sickness by gagging as well, and you’re very afraid of what’s about to unfold. “Okay, bathroom time! For the love of God, we need to find a bathroom.”

They’re useless as you twist and turn them around as you search for a bathroom. When you see a nearby sign, you drag them behind you and pray that they make it the next fifteen feet. As soon as you barrel through the bathroom door, Steve and Robin run out from behind you and just barely make it to the toilets before spilling their guts. 

You stand near the doorway, cringing. It’s not a pretty sight. 

They puke, spit out the excess, and flush the toilet to clear it before the next round of vomiting begins. Then they do it all over again. It goes on like this for a while, and all you can do is linger in the doorway and offer halfhearted comfort from across the room. You’ve never really gotten over your slight fear of vomit, if you’re being honest. 

Eventually Steve and Robin seem to throw everything up. When they’ve flushed the last of their sickness down, you hesitantly walk towards them and stand in between the stalls. “We feeling any better?”

“The room stopped spinning for me.” Robin says, her feet propped against the stall’s wall. You have no idea how she’s laying down the bathroom’s ground so casually. “Steve, is it still spinning for you?”

He looks up for a moment, testing what will happen. When he feels perfectly fine, he exhales with relief. “Holy shit. No.”

“You probably flushed the drugs out of your system when you puked.” You observe, leaning against the stall’s divider. “What were you guys on?”

“Allegedly a truth serum.” Robin says from the floor. “Ask me something, test if it’s really all gone.” Then, because she’s trying to get you to laugh, she lowers her voice and impersonates one of the Russians. “Interrogate me.”

Though you smile at her, your stomach twists. Not only were they beaten for information, they were also injected with a goddamn truth serum. Treated like lab rats. And you left them behind, all alone; you’ll never forgive yourself for that. 

But they’re here with you now, you remind yourself. They came out the other side. So you’ll do whatever you can to make it up to them and show them that you’re here for them. Even if that means asking bizarre questions to make sure they’re no longer being controlled by truth serums. “When was the last time you peed your pants?”

“Today.”

Steve looks at you to make sure you’ve also just heard Robin’s response. “What?”

You shrug. “I can’t really judge. I peed my bed a few years ago. Watched a scary movie with Dustin and had a nightmare. Wasn’t my proudest moment.”

“What?” Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“See!” Robin lifts her head up from the ground to look at you. “I was also scared. When the Russian doctor pulled out a bone saw, it was only a little bit, but holy shit.”

She starts to laugh and you join her, despite the image of the bone saw you saw burning your mind. You had seen it in the room when you were saving them. It had terrified you. Yet Robin laughs about it now, so you allow yourself to as well. 

Steve shakes his head at you both. “Yeah, it’s definitely still in her system.”

“And it’s not in yours, Harrington?”

His eyes shine when he looks at you. He’s coming back to himself, you can feel it. The knowing smirk is back. “Clean as a whistle, Henderson.”

Robin clears her throat, now uncomfortable. “Aright, my turn. I want to ask him a question.” When Steve gives her the okay, she takes a deep breath. She looks at you, a resigned look on her face. Something seems to have struck her, something that terrifies her. Her laughter is gone. “Have you… ever been in love?”

Steve doesn’t expect the question. He looks startled by it and tilts his head up at you. Your eyes meet, and you nod, giving him the permission he doesn’t truly need. You talked about it once, last year. The two of you in your room late one night, whispering confessions about love and the pain it brought. It was never a secret. 

“Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” Steve mimes a gunshot to his heart, trying to lessen the unease. He will never really feel comfortable talking about that time of his life. 

“Oh, my God.” Robin rolls her eyes. “She’s such a priss.”

You walk over to her stall and nudge her leg with your shoe. “Hey, she’s my friend, ya know.” Ignoring how dirty the bathroom floor inevitably is, you sit next to Robin. “She’s not a priss.”

“At least, not really.” Steve adds, nostalgia in his voice. 

Robin seems to hear it, too. She sits up, eyes not meeting yours. “Are you still in love with Nancy?”

Without meaning to, you hold your breath. You know Steve no longer loves her, but it’s July and somehow he still isn’t yours. There’s still trust between you, but your body tenses and your heart stutters. 

And yet Steve doesn’t hesitate. It’s immediate. He doesn’t even have to think about it. He’s known since April, though his body has known since he offered you his hand the day you almost hit his car with your bike. “No.”

“Why not?” Robin doesn’t know why she’s pushing this. You’re next to her, your thigh presses against hers. She knows that Steve is in love with you. He confessed it to her when she was teasing him about it just a few days ago. She devoted an entire whiteboard to tallying all the times he failed to ask you out. 

Steve is yours, and you’re his, but Robin can’t help but pick at scabs and expose old wounds. 

There’s a few moments of silence. Steve takes his time responding. He can almost feel your hand ghosting over his, even though you’re separated by a stall. “I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.”

You’re quiet. Robin is as well. 

“You know, it’s crazy.” Maybe it’s the truth serum still coursing through Steve’s veins or maybe it’s because he’s almost died a million times tonight. All he knows is that he’s tired of running. You deserve to know how he feels about you. “Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been badgering me about asking this girl out. That I need to ‘find my Suzie’. A girl he met at camp who somehow became his girlfriend, who I’m not even sure is actually real.”

He’s rambling. He knows he is, but you and Robin remain silent and patiently wait for him to keep going. Steve inhales, holds the breath for a few seconds, and exhales. All summer he’s been agonizing over this very moment. He’s spent countless sleepless nights terrified that he’d somehow ruin it. In the end, his own cowardice only hurt you; he still remembers the way your body shook in his arms while he held you as you cried last night. Steve remembers the fear on your face when you realized you couldn’t save him. That the Russians were going to take him away from you. 

It was then, seeing the terror in your eyes and hearing the desperation in your voice, that Steve Harrington finally realized you would give all of yourself to him; that is what love is. 

To love someone is to know that they deserve your love. 

And for some reason you love Steve. You see something in him that deserves your love. He’s no longer terrified that his love isn’t enough for you. He realizes now that it’s enough. His love is enough because it is his. 

You deserve love, and Steve is more than happy to give all of his to you. 

“The point is,” Steve runs a hand through his hair. He can feel you listening, waiting. “This girl, you know, the one that I love, it’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school… and I don’t even know why.”

A small laugh cuts through the barrier between you and Steve. The two of you spent years together in school, and not once did he ever talk to you. There was one time, early sophomore year, when he collided with you in the hallway while running to the bathroom to meet Nancy. He had apologized to you, but he continued running and hadn’t looked back.

It was two years ago, but you had only been kids, then.

Hearing your laugh emboldens Steve. He clears his throat, lifts his head. He wishes you were in the stall with him. “I think… I think I was scared. I had always watched her from afar. I mean, here was this girl who would offer help to anyone who needed it. Didn’t matter who they were, she’d help them. I just, I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand why someone would go out of their way to help others without expecting anything in return.”

“I mean, there I was, worrying about being prom king while this girl was tutoring kids for free in the school library.” Steve scoffs at himself. He will never forgive himself for wasting all those years with you. He could’ve been your friend sooner had he not been such an asshole. “It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it, I should’ve been friends with this girl the whole time.”

You rest your head against the wall, buzzed with warmth. “You should’ve,” you find yourself saying softly. Though you know yourself. Steve came into your life when you needed him the most, at the right time, for the right reasons. The timing had never been right before. “But I’m sure the girl is glad you ended up how you did.”

“Me, too.” Warm honey laces Steve’s voice. He can almost feel your body on his. He can see the lines and strings above him, materializing into something more solid with every word he says. “Still should’ve happened sooner, though. I mean, this girl we’re talking about is incredible. She makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever met. She’s witty, she always knows what to say and she’s so goddamn smart. I don’t think she knows this, but she has this way with people…”

His voice trails off. It’s what he loves the most about you. The effect you have on everyone you meet. The impact you make within a person’s life simply by smiling at them. “She has a way of making someone into a better person without even realizing it, just by being a part of their life. She… she made me a better person. Taught me to be softer, more vulnerable.”

Steve hadn’t known gentleness until he met you. 

To your left, Robin starts to close in on herself with every word he Steve says. She slouches down, drops her head into her knees almost as if in despair.

“She saw this good in me that no one else had before. For some reason, instead of using it against me like others have, she believed that I could be someone different. That I could change… It didn’t matter how long it would take me, she would wait. And I’m so goddamn lucky to be in love with someone as selfless as her.”

Guilt eats away at Robin. She’s harbored a resentment towards Steve all summer, even though she tried to swallow the feeling down. The love between you and Steve had always been obvious from the first day she met you. She watched the two of you dance around each other every day, basking in the sickly sweet young love you shared with one another. 

It’s not that Robin resented your relationship with Steve. No, she was happy for you, truly. The bitter taste in her mouth whenever she watched you gently stroke his cheek with your fingertips was remorse intermingling with resentment because she will never be able to do that. She will never be able to love someone so openly. To have someone hold her hand and call her tender names. 

You’re a beautiful girl with a boy who could adore you freely. Robin can only ever watch you from the shadows, scared to be caught.

You notice Robin’s shift in demeanor and press your body closer to hers. You’ve never seen her look so small before, so unsure of herself, and it worries you. “Hey, is everything okay?”

She shakes her head, too afraid that if she talks she’ll start to cry. The kindness that you offer her stings. She doesn’t deserve it. Not when she believes you outshine the sun. Before she can make up some excuse, Steve knocks on the stall. “Robin? Y/N? Did someone just OD over there?”

“No,” Robin’s breath is shaky, which worries you even more. “We’re still alive.”

You try to meet her eye, but she won’t look up at you. You’re not sure what’s happened, but she’s closed herself off from you; you feel like an intruder. Placing an arm on her shoulder, you’re about to offer her some more water when Steve’s body slides into the stall.

He settles himself across from you, shy with his movements. Your heart lurches when you see him, too. He confessed his love for you only moments prior, and you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and call him yours, but Robin looks pale. She’s scared. You just don’t know why.

“The floor’s disgusting,” she says to Steve, hoping to get the attention off of her. 

“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” He looks down, cringes slightly. You remain silent, and Robin’s eyes are still downcast. Seeing this, Steve tries to lighten the mood and asks Robin a teasing question. “So, what do you think?”

“About?”

“This girl,” he turns to you, then. He looks at you with such fondness and knows that both you and Robin know he had been talking about you the entire time. He’s trying to get you to laugh, bring a smile back to your faces.

Robin tries to play along, swallowing down the remaining bitterness. You’re sitting next to her, your hand is still on her arm. “She sounds awesome.” 

“She is awesome.” Steve winks at you, hoping it’ll get you to blush the pretty pink he loves so much. When it works, he smiles. “And what about the guy?”

“I think he’s as sweet as honey in July.” You say, giving into Steve’s charm. It’s worked on you ever since the day you crashed into that ditch, even if back then you refused to admit it.

“Yeah? Well, I think he’s on drugs, and that he’s not thinking straight. That he doesn’t realize how lucky he is.” Robin interjects. She doesn’t look at you, her eyes remain on Steve. You raise your eyebrows at what she’s said. You hadn’t expected such a pessimistic response from her.

Off put by her sudden dejection, Steve becomes defensive. He doesn’t understand what Robin is doing. She was the one who kept encouraging Steve to ask you out all summer. “Really? ‘Cause I think he’s thinking a lot more clearly than usual. He knows what luck is.”

“Does he? What if there’s this other girl, one he hasn’t seen yet. I mean, really seen.” Robin swallows. Her fingers twist together nervously. “What if he one day sees her and realizes just how unlucky she is. I don’t think the guy would ever want to be her friend after that.”

“No, that’s not true. No way is that true.” Steve shifts closer to the two of you now, confused as to why Robin is saying all of this. Of course she’s his friend. “I mean, apart from the girl he’s in love with, this other girl is the guy’s only friend.”

“Listen to me, Steve.” Robin still doesn’t look at you, but you listen silently and allow her the space she seems to need. “It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you, but I’m not lucky like you are. I think… I think you should use that luck. Go for the girl.”

Steve tilts his head, not quite following. “What does luck have to do with any of it?”

Robin sighs and you sit next to her, quiet. She seems to be trying to figure out what she wants to say, and somehow you think you know what she means by luck. It’s always fascinated you, luck and love. Two sides of the same coin. But it never occurred to you that there could be an undercurrent that cuts through the luck. A double meaning behind it. 

“Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?”

“Yeah,”

Robin closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them, there’s a resolved look in them.  “It… It isn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

At first, you’re confused. You had missed their conversation about Mrs. Click’s class. They must’ve had it when they were being held captive, but the phrasing of what Robin has just said feels heavier than it should. Her words land on you with a force you hadn’t seen coming. 

If Robin had for some reason talked about being obsessed with Steve in a class they once shared, but not because she had a crush on him, but because a girl wouldn’t stop staring at him… 

“Mrs. Click?”

Even though you’ve done well remaining silent this entire time, you can’t help but snort at Steve’s response. He’s trying, you know he is. Robin must know this too, because she laughs softly at him as well. “No, Steve.”  Her smile dims, however. “That would’ve made things easier for me, though.”

Easier. Luckier. 

And then it all clicks. 

Robin’s insistence on always pleasing you. The subtle touches. The way her eyes would darken sometimes when you looked at Steve. How, only an hour ago, she had asked you for a kiss when she was still under the influence of the truth serum. 

You draw your hand towards hers and slowly thread your fingers together. Robin’s head spins, she finally allows herself to look at you. She finds your eyes staring into hers. They’re kind, understanding. You’re looking right through her in this very moment, and Robin Buckley has never been more afraid. 

“How long have you known?” You ask her, voice gentle.

Robin’s voice shakes. “Since Tammy Thompson…” She has to look away from you. She can’t do this with you looking at her. “She was in Mrs. Click’s class with me and Steve. I–I wanted her to look at me, but.. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from him and his stupid hair.”

She pauses, tries to compose herself, and you squeeze her hand three times. Once to tell her that you’re there, another to give her the reassurance to go on, and the final time to communicate that you understand. There isn’t a reason to be scared. Somehow, Robin knows what the gesture means. Breathing in, she looks at Steve and continues. 

“And I didn’t understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor and you asked dumb questions and you were a douchebag. And–and you didn’t even like her and I–” Her voice breaks. “I would go home… and just scream into my pillow.”

Steve looks between the two of you. It’s obvious he’s the only one not aware of the underlying layers. “But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.”

“Steve,” Robin breathes out, pleading. She doesn’t want to say it out loud. She can’t say it out loud. He needs to understand what she’s trying to say. Why she’s been giving him hell all summer. Why she feels guilty when she looks at you.

“Yeah?” But he doesn’t understand.

Robin can’t say anything. She looks at him, can feel the tears in her eyes; she’s begging now. Steve’s eyes find yours, silently begging you as well to explain this to him. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong. He doesn’t want to be doing something that could hurt Robin like this. 

Your shoes squeak against the tile floors as you draw your knees into your chest. You’re not sure what else you can do. Robin has laid everything out for Steve. Your hand still holds hers and you try to quell the fear within you that maybe he’s being intentionally naive. Maybe he doesn’t want to believe it. 

“Oh.” 

It’s one word, one exhale of breath from a mouth that once used to say cruel things. Steve’s face softens, his jaw unclenches and his shoulders relax. He surprises you, showing nothing but empathy. He’s kind, he’s always been kind.

“Holy shit,” Steve doesn’t want to mess this up, but he’s never been good with words. 

Robin laughs. “Yeah, holy shit.”

He sighs and leans against the stall wall. It’s quiet between the three of you. No one really knows what to say now. Steve is still processing, Robin’s heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled, and you’re trying to figure out how to tell her that you understand more than she may know. She’s braver than you, trusted you with this secret, and it’s only fair that you offer her a part of yourself as well. 

Plus, it’s a wonderful ice breaker. 

“You have terrible taste in women, Robin.” You nudge her with your shoulder, teasing. “I mean, I’ve heard Tammy Thompson during choir rehearsal. You can totally do better.”

“She wants to be a singer, she has dreams!” Robin defends the girl, the change in conversation bizarre but welcomed. 

Steve, sensing that you’re trying to lessen the tension, gratefully plays along. “So what she has dreams? She can’t even carry a tune. But, more importantly, what do you know about taste in women, Y/N?”

“I see things,” you jut your head out, defiant. “Probably would’ve fallen in love with Nancy Wheeler had I known her instead of Jonathan.”

Their reactions are expected.

“You would’ve loved Nancy?” Steve exclaims at the same time as Robin guffaws, “You loved Byers?” 

You laugh. It’s a full, whole body laugh. One you haven’t felt in so long. “Yes,” you wheeze out, the look on their faces killing you. Steve looks unnerved while Robin looks disgusted. “At least Jonathan doesn’t sound like a muppet when he sings.”

“Tammy does not!” Robin is laughing alongside you now. It’s been a long time since she’s laughed this hard, too.

Steve rolls his eyes, his own smile overtaking his face. “She sounds like a muppet giving birth, Robin.”

“That’s what she reminds me of!” You snap your fingers and point at him. “You’re right!”

Robin clutches her stomach as she laughs. She leans into your side as you lean into her. Steve starts doing a terrible impersonation of Tammy’s awful singing, which only gets the two of you to laugh even harder. Steve gets you to sing along. He grabs the hand that isn’t holding Robin’s and swings it around as the two of you sing. Robin joins, laughing more than singing. It’s lovely. Absolutely lovely. 

And this is how Dustin finds the three of you.

He slams the bathroom door open, Erica right behind him, and stands in front of you.

“Okay,” he glares at you specifically. “What the hell, Y/N?”

You giggle at his disappointed dad stance. “I told you I’d take care of them.”

Dustin isn’t amused, which only makes your giggles turn to laughter again. The other two teens aren’t far behind you, descending into yet another fit of laughter. Hunched together, the three of you giggle breathlessly as your brother and Erica watch in disbelief. 

But you ignore their questioning stares.

With both Steve and Robin holding your hands, laughter warming your belly, you feel like a kid again.

– 

 The bus becomes your only option.

“I managed to contact the party.” Dustin had informed you after your laughter died down.

Relief washed over you. “Thank God–”

“But then my walkie died.”

“Yeah,” you had sighed and dropped your head down in defeat. “Yeah, of course it did. Why wouldn’t it die when we need it?”

Which leads you to now: peering out the bathroom door with Steve breathing down your neck and Dustin in front of you, checking to make sure it’s safe. A crowd of people flood the once empty hallway. The movie must’ve just finished. Everyone is talking excitedly, having no idea that five teenagers are currently hiding in the bathroom from Russians. 

You envy them. 

“When I say ‘blend’, we go. Okay?” Dustin asks the group, eyes still on the mass of people exiting the theater. 

“Because Steve dripping blood definitely will blend in.” You retort. It’ll be hard not to draw attention to yourselves with the way his face still oozes. It’s a long walk down to the bus station and you’re getting worried now. The mall closes in ten minutes, soon there won’t be any crowds to hide behind. 

Dustin doesn’t bother justifying your remark. Instead he studies the flow of traffic before giving his signal. “Blend.”

The five of you swiftly exit the bathroom and align your pace with everyone around you. Dustin guides in front with Erica while you stay back with Steve and Robin. Your eyes move constantly, scanning every face you pass. Thankfully, the people close to you seem innocent enough.

Erica looks around, impressed. “Well, shit. That worked.”

“Of course it worked.” Dustin is smug, which makes you wince. He’s always had a bad habit of jinxing things. You really wish he had gotten more of your mom’s humility and less of your dad’s ego. “Now we just have to get on the bus with the rest of these plebes, and home sweet home, here we come.”

You shove your brother. “Can we not taunt our inevitable bad luck?”

“We’re in the clear now, Y/N. Trust me, in just twenty minutes we’ll be back home, where our dear mother awaits with her frantic arms wide open–”

“Uh, Dustin?” Steve eyes him nervously. Already you dread whatever he’s about to say. You guys only lasted thirty seconds without any bad luck. It’s a new record, honestly.

“What?”

“Yeah, we might not wanna go to your house.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Steve winces with regret. He knows he’s about to piss both Hendersons off. “I might’ve told them your full name.”

Dustin turns to look at him, bewildered. “What is wrong with you?”

“Dude, I was drugged.” Steve argues, which. Yeah. That’s fair.

Not liking that he apparently sold your brother out to Russians, yet understanding that Steve hadn’t been the most clear headed when it happened, you grab his hand. There’s more important matters to deal with, like whether or not he sold you out as well. “Did you tell them my full name?”

“No, I kept you safe.” He says, with an air of obviousness that you smirk at. 

“Aw, thanks honey.” You kiss his cheek, not caring that Dustin is fuming in front of you. 

“Oh, so you can resist for your girlfriend but not for her brother?” Dustin struggles to keep his voice low. He has never wanted to shove Steve down a flight of stairs more. “You were supposed to tough it out. Like a man!”

You flick the kid’s hat. “Hey, he was very manly defending my honor.”

“I hate you both–”

Robin suddenly freezes, her eyes catching on something. “Guys…”

Everyone stops, alarmed by the tone in her voice, before you see them. There, standing right in front of the exit of the mall, are the two Russian men from the alley. They’re stopping people, checking their faces, looking for you. 

“Abort.” Dustin says, before one of the men makes direct eye contact with him. His face pales and you already have one hand on his shoulder, pulling at him to run. “Abort!”

Steve grabs Erica’s hand and motions for you and Dustin to run ahead as Robin guides. She pushes through the crowd of people and towards the escalators. However, when you get there, they’re roped off and blocked by plexiglass. 

You kick at the glass, frustrated. The Russians are close now. Robin, quick as ever, steps past you and places herself in the middle of the two escalators. You’re confused at first, but then you realize there’s just enough space for your bodies to fit through. Sitting down, Robin is able to use the gap as a makeshift slide.

“Let’s go,” Steve places Erica to slide down next, then Dustin. When it’s your turn, he nods at you. “Ready?”

“I’m so tired of running from these shitheads.” You say before launching yourself down the escalators. 

Robin waits for everyone at the bottom. When you’re all there, she waves for you to follow as you run again. None of you have any idea where to even hide now that the mall has emptied. There’s no one to hide behind, no corner to run into. And the goddamn Russians are fast, never trailing more than fifty feet behind you. 

Somehow you end up in the food court. It isn’t much, but there’s at least vendor’s stalls and restaurant counters nearby. Panting, you point towards the nearest counter. “There! Everyone jump over!”

No one argues, doing as they’re told. You make it there first and help Erica over while Steve and Robin help Dustin. Kneeling down, you motion for everyone to sit with a finger to your lips. The men have to be nearby, you can practically feel their presence close. Facing your friends, you grip your knives and strain your ears for any sounds. 

It’s tense. Dustin pants, he’s scared and overwhelmed and you wish you could offer him better protection. Steve glances at you, silently asking you what the next move is, and you shake your head helplessly. You’re cornered, there’s no way out of this one. 

The sound of boots falling against the mall’s ground approaches. It grows louder and louder at a maddeningly slow pace. Your knuckles are white from how tightly they grip around the hilt of your switchblade. With one flick of your wrist, you know you could at least disarm one of the men long enough to cause a distraction. You’d never kill anyone, but you know from experience that a cut to the shoulder is sufficient enough. 

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when a car alarm suddenly goes off. Its loud noise echoes within the empty mall. Everyone jumps at the unexpected sound, shuffling closer together. Deciding it’s worth the risk, you poke your head up to see what the hell is going on. 

The guards are standing around a red convertible. It shakes, vibrates almost, and they look at one another in confusion. The car continues to shriek its alarm, and while the men stand in fear, you smile. There’s static in the air.

Looking up you see El, with an arm outstretched, on the second floor. Her face is strained, her fingers clench in mid air. The look on her face is terrifying, and you’ve never been happier to see blood drip down from her nose. She twists her arm and sends the car flying into the men. You duck as it crushes them, rolls over the tables and chairs in the center, before spiraling into the counter next to you. “Shit!”

The alarm stops ringing. Everything falls silent. Slowly, you and everyone else stand up to inspect the damage. A tire rim rolls past, the Russians guards are sprawled on the ground, unmoving. There’s smoke from where the car has landed, and you let out a low whistle. “Nice one, El.”

“El?” Dustin turns around, wondering if he’s heard you right.

“She’s up there,” you point to where she had been standing, but when you see Jonathan now standing next to her with Nancy, your heart stops. “Jonathan.”

You’re the first to start running, and when he sees that it’s you, Jonathan wastes no time running either. He’s down the escalator in seconds. Your whole body buzzes as you run, adrenaline and longing coursing through you. The moment he’s close enough, you practically leap into his arms.

“Bug,” he holds onto you tightly. He buries his face in your hair and you breathe him in. It’s a familiar scent, a familiar warmth. You had been so focused on escaping the Russian base that you hadn’t even considered that he and everyone else in the party could’ve been involved. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” you tighten your arms around him, but when he makes a pained noise, you immediately pull away. It’s then that you notice the swelling in his head. The dried blood. Pressing your fingers softly to his face, you fill with concern. “What happened, are you hurt?”

Jonathan tries to shrug it off. He doesn’t care about what he’s been through. All he wants to focus on is that you’re okay, for once not covered in blood and bruises like he is. Wherever you’ve been these last few days, at least he knows you weren’t in any pain. “I’m fine, I’ll tell you everything later–”

“You flung that thing like a Hot Wheel!” Dustin exclaims to El, now joining you and Jonathan as the others gather around. 

You don’t leave Jonathan’s side as everyone starts talking at once. Lucas asks why Erica is involved, to which you wince at. “I tried stopping them.”

“It’s their fault.” Erica points at Steve and Robin, clearing your name in the process, which you appreciate her for. 

Steve stands next to you now and puts his hands on his hips. He doesn’t even try to deny that he’s the reason a ten year old girl ended up locked inside an underground Russian facility. “Yeah, true. Totally true. It’s absolutely our fault.” 

Robin asks what happened to the car and Dustin and Steve explain El to her. They quickly catch her up to speed about the girl’s power, and you feel bad for the teen. It’s a lot of information to take in at once. Erica joins, having remembered her conversation with Dustin from earlier in the vents when he had explained the Upside Down to her. 

Meanwhile, Nancy is focused on Robin. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“That’s Robin. She’s a friend.” You step between them. When Nancy sees that it’s you, she quickly looks away. She fidgets with her fingers, overwhelmed with shame and regret. She hasn’t forgotten the cruelty she showed you a few days ago. You haven’t forgotten either, but you’ve never been one to hold anger towards others. Extending a kind smile, you nod at her. “Hey, Nance.”

Nancy looks up, surprised, but smiles at you as well and it’s enough. Maybe one day you’ll sort through the tension that never seems to leave you and the girl alone. Untangle the lines and threads that haunt both of you. For now, there are other things to worry about. 

Steve has started explaining the Russians now, and quickly it becomes clear that you’ve all been dealing with vastly different situations. 

“Russians, what Russians?” Jonathan asks you with alarm. 

“See those guys laying over there?” Everyone looks at where you’re pointing, the men still knocked out on the ground. “Russians. We enjoyed twenty-four wonderful hours with them.”

“Yeah, we ended up trapped in their secret base underneath Hawkins.” Dustin further explains, to which everyone’s eyes widen at. 

“It was fun. Spent my birthday in mortal danger.” At the same time the kids all wish you a belated birthday, which you salute them for. “Thanks, guys. I’m just happy I wasn’t gravely injured this time.”

“And that Steve finally kissed you.” Dustin unhelpfully adds before Steve is covering his mouth to shut him up. His face reddens, embarrassed and nervous. Jonathan is standing too close to him for comfort right now.

Nancy looks uncomfortable with this new information, Mike makes a disgusted sound, Max high fives you, Lucas cheers, Will gasps and looks nervously towards his brother, and Jonathan chokes on his own spit. It’s truly a very wide array of reactions, all of which are expected to certain extents. 

That doesn’t stop you from hitting the back of Dustin’s head, though. “Can we focus on the Russians infiltrating Hawkins?” Dustin hits your shoulder in retaliation, but he knows you’re right. He turns to Mike, upset that he hadn’t come sooner. “Didn’t you get our code red?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying.”

The kids all start to argue and Steve joins in, making a remark about how he’s always bugging Dustin to watch for a low battery. More arguing follows. Lucas and the others demand to hear more about the Russians. As you try your best to explain everything, you notice from the corner of your eye El walking away from the group.

Her shoulders are drawn into her body, her breathing seems to be labored. You nudge Jonathan, pulling his attention away from the kids arguing, and point towards El. “What happened to her tonight?”

Jonathan is about to explain what they’ve been dealing with, but when El collapses onto the ground, you leave his side in a heartbeat to join her. Kneeling beside her, you’re cold with panic. She’s covered in sweat, her face is flushed. “El? Sweetheart, what’s happening?”

Mike and Jonathan are beside you now. Mike is in his own fit of panic, nearly ramming into you in his hurry to get to the girl. He turns her over onto her back, his face twisted with worry and fear. “El! What’s wrong?”

The rest of the group stands around El now, staring down at her. She manages to open her eyes, but you can tell that it pains her to do so. “My leg.” She rasps out, voice thick with tears. 

“Her leg, okay.” Jonathan takes action, swiftly unraveling a bandage on her leg. You hadn’t noticed it before. There’s a deep wound underneath the gauze, its blood has soaked through it. Nancy helps Jonathan with the bandage, and when they finally get it off, you almost throw up at the sight. 

The flesh is raised, angry and swollen. There’s a giant gash in El’s leg, deep and to the bone. The veins in her legs are dark and begin to constrict when something starts to move inside the wound; something is crawling inside her leg. It’s a nauseating sight.

Mike starts to freak out even more. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He’s scared for the girl, his eyes fill with panic. Instinctively you pull him into your arms, tightening your hold as he fights against it. 

That’s when El begins to scream.

-

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[fernsnouveau]

Tags by @erisluna35 :

#yeah the ship cracked not cause we dont believe in teen love #but because s5 messed up their dynamic #this whole thing messed up adriens arc not because of adrienette #but because he kept getting locked out of his own narrative #which is not satisfying regardless of adrienette #reducing all these complaints to just the salters belittling teen love #the sugar side really dont get it

Tags by @generalluxun :

#as a writer I feel this #writing the LS is hard now I need to ensure there is a clear break from canon to even contemplate it #why did they turn it so toxic?

“You don’t ship the love square because you’re an adult who doesn’t believe teenage love is legitimate”

I’m going to stop you there. Yes, I am an adult person who is aware teenage romance doesn’t have a great track record of being lasting in real life. But Miraculous Ladybug: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir is FICTIONAL.

If the writers decide on a convincing arc for Maribug and Adricat being “made for each other”, then yes, I will ship them. I considered them an OTP for years, actually.

UNFORTUNATELY there was a multi-season storyline of Ladybug keeping important secrets from Chat Noir that was not fully addressed and pushed aside.

UNFORTUNATELY as of the season 5 finale, we have Maribug lying to Adricat about his very existence as a son of Monarque and his status of being a Sentimonster.

So no. I don’t ship it anymore. And I’m actually kind of bummed this fictional relationship I invested in for years is dead to me.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

First, let me apologise for making people worry. I appreciate all those who reached out and I'm sorry that I couldn't get back to you all.

I have been through a very rough spiral. It was building for months, and I am still not fully okay.

For those who want context, it's under the cut.

I bought a house in May. It's expensive. I wasn't ready financially or in many ways for that step, but my partner convinced me. I told him as much but I was not heard. Alas, I have a mortgage, full time work, astudent loan, and an ongoing school program to contend with. It hasn't been easy and it caught up to me.

At the same time, a person who traumatised me and I have no way of fully extricating from my life, has moved closer. To keep the peace, I have to associate with him to a degree and he pretends that nothing ever happened. To him, it was nothing.

In June, I moved. It was hard and fast paced. I did most of the paperwork etc for the whole process and obv helped with the physical transition as well. I was responsible for deadlines and checklists for not just myself but my partner.

I was plugging holes in a sinking boat.

At the same time, I had obligations to my family. Every weekend if I wasn't dealing with the house and all that goes into it, I was running around to babysit or see family or whathave you.

In July, I pinched a nerve behind my tailbone. I missed a week of work bc my injury but it took longer for my to recover. I am still feeling it today. It was more than physical, but emotional.

I also got three periods that month. Hormonal can't begin to explain how fucked up I've been.

On top of all that, there are underlying issues associated with other trauma and discontent. I'm realising that I have been loyal and tolerant to the point of my own detriment.

I don't want to hurt people how I've been hurt, so I don't speak up. When people tell me something about myself, I let all the doubts planted in my mind from years of abuse convince me that they're right. I can admit my faults but often times I will think that proof of one flaw means everything about me is rotten.

People forget about me or just don't care. Both or either. They don't put the same effort in that I do. I find it hard to connect because years of disregard and neglect have told me that the other side just won't care.

But I'm not just hurt, I'm angry. I'm seeking therapy and trying to figure this out.

It all boiled over after my last post. Nothing I do is enough. For anyone. Not even when it's a hobby. I was frustrated bc the place I use for escape just made me feel like less than.

Obviously, I don't mean everyone or even the majority. I appreciate the discourse and fun and everything here! There are so many awesome people to interact with and I have missed you all, however, my headspace was bad. Very bad. I had thoughts I haven't dealt with in years.

I put my nose down and just went to work. I didn't wanna talk to anyone. I didn't wanna be in the world.

I did some reading, eventually some non-fandom writing, and sometimes, I just stayed alive.

I don't know if I'm really okay but I'm trying.

To those who have been so patient and supportive, you deserve everything. To those who are silent supporters, you do too. And even to those people who send me the most vile hate, you deserve to lift yourself out of the dark space you're stuck in. Hopefully, I can, too.

[fellow-fandom-fruitifier]

I’ve seen so many alive!DBD au’s where Edwin and Charles meet first, or Edwin and Niko/Charles and Crystal meet first, but I raise you: Rich Payne and Surname-Von Hoverkraft families meet first. They are industry RIVALS, okay? They DESPISE each other with a burning passion and trade thinly veiled insults back and forth at every event they meet.

(More under cut cause this shit is atrociously long.)

At first Edwin and Crystal ignore each other or send glares, following their parents lead, but then they get older and Crystal starts acting out to get her parents attention while Edwin starts distancing himself from his. Both of them get the idea of, “What if I get to know the Payne’s/Surname-Von Hoverkraft’s daughter/son? My parents would HATE that.” So a friendship is formed.

In the beginning it’s toxic bitch levels of fake on both their sides, good lord they can’t stand each other. One day Crystal’s drunk off her underage ass and just starts openly venting and Edwin — the always sober guy and no it’s not cause he cares that’s preposterous!! — meets her tit for tat. Because, c’mon. Of course they’d drop random trauma on each other like fun facts.

Anyways they’re proper friends now, still appear the same — arguing is their love language — but there’s a level of solidarity now. Insert Edwin getting sent off to St. Hilarion’s for another year — Crystal threatens him to write her back per usual — and his classmates pull the prank. Not sure what 73 years in hell would be here, I’ve seen so many interpretations but I think kidnapping and torture is accurate.

While that’s going on Crystal gets a new boyfriend at her school. Any guesses?? She writes Edwin about David and Edwin does not hold back, he’s part of the reason Crystal tries to break up — it doesn’t go well, not sure how yet — and she writes Edwin about what happened craving comfort. Usually postal’s pretty fast, they aren’t that far, but she doesn’t get a response one day in. Two. Three… She finds out her best friends been kidnapped AFTER a news article has been released.

Turns out her parents knew the entire time but neglected to tell her. Crystal stops speaking to them. It’s 73 days later before she gets anymore news outside of, “The Police Are Still Looking”, and it comes in the sign of a knock. She hadn’t got much sleep that night — didn’t most nights — so she’d been wandering around her kitchen aimlessly. (As you do.) When she heart a soft rap on her front door. Curious, and too tired to care about danger or consequence, she opens the door.

Crystal doesn’t recognize him at first, he’s shivering and there’s so much blood on his- his everywhere but then a very weak voice croaks, “Crystal.” She screams. And sobs. Because what else do you do when your friend had to escape himself after 73 days of captivity and torture and the first safe place he could think to go wasn’t the police, or hospital, but you? Her parents are awoken by her scream and come rushing down because what the fuck is going on? And it’s all a blur from there — she refuses to leave his side and Edwin clings to her like a limpet.

It takes awhile of recovery and physical therapy — and regular therapy — after that but Crystal is holding his hand nigh every session, she’s there to bring him books and bicker and provide a sense of normalcy. Crystal forgets David for awhile, the only one to occupy her thoughts being Edwin because she knows he’d do the exact same. The two also get the satisfaction of watching their parents actually try to be amiable after this, it’s so stilted and awkward and they revel in it. And, yes, the tabloids somehow get ahold of the fact that kidnapped Edwin Payne fought his way to the Surname-Von Hoverkraft’s doorstep instead of literally anywhere else. Rumors pop up about his and Crystal’s relationship and the two make a teir list of their favs and least favs. Secret love child/half-siblings is their favorite, secretly dating isn’t even on the board they hate it so much.

College!!! The two decide against anything super fancy. And by that I mean they move to America together to find some community college to go to because neither want to be reliant on their parents who took a whole ass kidnapping to pay attention to them. Anyways, they share a flat above Tongue & Tail butcher shop with Jenny as their landlord. Crystal works as a freelance artist and tarot card reader (She’s really good.) while Edwin works as the librarians — Maxine’s — assistant.

Charles and Niko meet differently, Niko’s actually advertising her need for a roommate and Charles — who also moved to America to get away from his dad — takes it up. Fast friends don’t have a thing on these two. Niko gushes about this pretty girl across from them and Charles is man enough to admit, yeah, their neighbors are pretty fine. Too bad they’re dating.

———

Anyways more highlights of this AU in no particular order:

Crystal and Edwin physically recoil when Niko says something like, “Wait, I thought you two were dating?” Edwin puts his hand to his heart, too stunned to speak. Crystal fake gags and goes, “Why does everyone think that?! HE’S GAY!!”

Edwin discovers his sexuality at one of the clubs Crystal drags him to when Thomas King — older then them by a few years — flirts with him and he Panics™️. Crystal drags him away with a scathing look toward Thomas and asks if Edwin’s okay. He blurts out, “I- I’m gay?!” and Crystal goes, “You didn’t know??!?”

David tracks Crystal down to America and it’s a whole thing for obvious reasons, also because she forgot to tell Edwin about it in full — too busy helping him. This is how Crystal’s abusive ex trauma gets aired. (Charles maybe reveals some shit about his dad here too.)

Edwin and Niko go on a little faux-date together — cafe, library, just a chill day and night out — but Edwin leaves his flip phone at home and Niko’s dies. (Yes he has a flip phone.💀💀) So Crystal’s panicked as shit, last time she couldn’t contact him he was literally KIDNAPPED and TORTURED. Charles tries to calm her down before simply offering to wait up with her. When Niko and Edwin get back Crystal breaks down like, “You can’t DO that!!” This is how Edwin’s kidnapping and torture trauma gets aired.

Charles has a near death experience at St. Hilarion’s a few days after Edwin’s kidnapping. Turns out they went at the same time but Charles was a year under him and they ran in very different social circles. He gets chucked into the freezing lake and stoned still but a teacher catches them all and sends him to the hospital.

Niko’s dad died and her mom sent her to America to get away from the sadness, she caught a really bad illness and also almost died. Charlotte Knight was her Nurse. (Unrelated but she has Poliosis, which turns parts of your hair white.)

Esther is a serial killer and uses her son, Monty, to lure people in. Very brain washed Monty here sorry guys. She kidnaps Edwin who has several trackers on him — after the Niko Night Out incident Crystal and Edwin spent a night sewing them into each others coats and shoes — and the police arrest Esther and Monty.

Payneland and Palasaki of course, but this would probably be focused on Edwin and Crystal’s friendship. Yes, Niko and Charles get a shovel talk. “You know I adore you Niko and whilst I do not think you’d intend any harm, I will have to do something drastic in the event that it happens.” “Okay listen here dipshit. I have full faith you won’t hurt Edwin but if you do, intentionally or not, I will have to castrate you.”

There’s more I forgot lmfao, this is too long already😭😭 If I made any spelling mistakes no I didn’t

[ay-chuu]

Taking the gloves off from his hands to kiss it & Lucifer, Barbatos, Simeon

gn!reader. I may have some grammer mistakes please spare them.

Lucifer

Sometimes it was like a miracle that Lucifer had time for you in his busy work life. So, due to the limited things you could do, you decided to just go and sit next to him while he was at student council room. Listening to the sound of his quill while reading your book wasn’t that bad.

However, when you looked up and saw the tired look on Lucifer’s face, all the interest in the book you were reading was gone. You slowly closed your book, stood up, and pulled your chair next to Lucifer. When Lucifer shifted his gaze to you, you took advantage of the distraction and took his hands by yours.

You could feel the hardness of his hands even through his gloves. Lucifer was a man who put himself forward in every way he wanted. His thoughts, behaviors, and pride weren't just his personality. They were also his body. But you knew him better than anyone else. You knew that he felt much more and secretly than he showed.

So you weren't surprised when you felt the soft part of his hands under the fabric as you slowly removed his gloves from his hands. And as you kissed his hands, Lucifer remembered why he was so in love with you. He smiled at your cute gesture and didn't forget to be thankful and pray inside...

Barbatos

Having little tea time getaways by the lake was not uncommon for you and your lover Barbatos. Especially when Barbatos could gain some new fresh tea leaves. You knew he loved experiencing the new kind of peace he got from tasting the teas with you. You watched as he prepared the tea under the dark sky with the starlight illuminating it. The smell was the kind that soothed you. Oh, you were sure you were going to have a good night’s sleep tonight.

You turned your head towards the lake for a moment and took a deep breath. Your favorite part of these secret meetings was being able to escape from the rush of life and take a deep breath. While you were looking at the lake in your own thoughts, you felt a gentle hand under your chin turn your head. When you made eye contact with Barbatos, you smiled at him and gently took his hand in yours and caressed it.

Barbatos was always a very mysterious man. You loved seeing parts of him that you had never seen before, very suddenly. A new reaction, a new piece of information, a new trauma, a new hobby... most of the information about him was a very sweet puzzle consisting of closed doors for you. And you loved finding the keys. Because you loved Barbatos.

Maybe that's why you took off his glove without thinking and put it on the blanket you were sitting on. You didn't forget to look into Barbatos' eyes until you slowly brought his bare hand to your lips and closed your eyes.

Barbatos couldn't hold back his chuckle as yoy slowly brought his hand back to your chin and leaned head to it. He had lived for a hundred, a thousand, millions of years. He had seen more things than he had ever seen, felt more things than he had ever felt, but look at his condition. He had gotten tangled up in the fingers of something so innocent that had lived for a period of time that he called days. Barbatos could swear that this was the only situation that he wouldn't think twice about if he experienced the same event in another universe.

Simeon

Baking cookies with Simeon was like therapy for you two. It was a secret way to relax, especially when one of you was feeling down from something you couldn’t explain. The way to start this moment was a simple sentence. “Shall we make cookies together?” and the next thing you knew, you were both in the kitchen, wearing aprons, laughing like two silly kids as you do some flour fight.

While you were putting the cookies you made into the oven, Simeon came behind you silently and kissed your hair. You smiled and leaned your head on his chest. Answering the question "are you better?" That he asked with his actions. After staying in the same position for about a minute, Simeon took his hand off your waist and turned around and started to clean up the kitchen. When you tried to help, he forced you to sit on a chair and did all the work himself while you looked at him with a deep love.

When he was done, you realized that he was going to take off his gloves to wash his hands and replace them with new ones. Without letting him take them off while he was next to the sink, you silently came near to him, took them both off and brought his hands to your lips and stayed like that for a few seconds while you inhaled his scent.

There were many factors that made you fall in love with Simeon. His endless compassion, kindness, empathy, his inability to judge everything.. but what drove you most crazy about him was how much he accepted you for who you are. Simeon had practically made it clear to you from the very beginning of this relationship that the only two things he wanted were you and your love. The secret thank you you said while kissing his hands expressed so little of your love that your heart was left wanting a lot of nice words and touches to pour out more...

Simeon, on the other hand, felt your gratitude in every vein as he chuckled and blushed silently. No matter what you were sad about now or happy about later, the only thing he wanted you to know was that he and his love for you would always be by your side.

[I want to gift this little fic to my new cute friend who made me want to write again. ♡♡ @temis-de-leon ]

[whor-ror-forever]

That Bastard - Curly/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Words: 839

Tags: post-crash, personality changes, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, cumming in clothing

Summary: Curly hadn't been the same since being rescued, but his strange new personality made your heart race. Somehow, you found yourself in your room with him, alone.

Read on Ao3

He used to be the captain, but he wasn’t at the moment. However, he wanted back in the captain’s chair, he wanted the authority and the power, surely.  You had never quite trusted him. His attitude rubbed you the wrong way, he seemed like he was always hiding something behind his happy smile and cheerfulness. 

When you got the news that he had been found, stuffed in an escape pod and pushed out into space, your heart sank to hell. Anya was on that ship, where was she? Curly was the only survivor, and he was barely alive. Your friend was gone, and for several months, Curly couldn’t even speak and let you know what happened. 

After many grueling surgeries, agonizing physical therapy, and sessions with a shrink, Curly was finally, at least sort of, back at it. He had prosthetic limbs made with the highest quality tech, and wore bandage-like wrappings all over his body. There was so much damage, skin grafts wouldn’t cut it. He also sported a white eyepatch, making his remaining eye all the more bright.

And now, he was sitting on your bed next to you, metal hand on your thigh. Despite seeing the psych, his mind was changed. He no longer smiled, no longer cracked jokes. He was serious, stern, always watching his surroundings as if there was a predator waiting in the shadows. Sometimes he laughed, but it was a dry, dark laugh, like he had just gotten away with a crime. 

“It was hell in that escape pod,” he said, putting his face next to your ear. You couldn’t feel his breath since he had bandages wrapped around his lipless mouth. 

“Three days is a very long time when you’re in extreme pain. I would scream, pass out, wake up, and scream some more. I had no pills, and even if I did, I couldn’t have fed them to myself,” Curly whispered.

His voice was different on account of the damage to his throat and vocal cords. It was deep and hoarse and full of gravel. It turned you on, and so did his new dominate personality.

“You think I look like a monster,” he said, a statement, not a question.

“No, no I don’t. You look different of course, but you’re still Curly,” you said. It was a lie, Curly was no more, the man who escaped the ship wasn’t him. 

He hummed. “Then why are you hesitant?”

You swallowed the saliva that had been building up in your mouth. “You have authority over me.”

“Not anymore, I’m not a captain.”

“I still see you that way,” you said.

“Then it’s wrong, so what?” He answered. 

Curly put his hand in your hair, stroking it. “I wish I could smell you.”

You squeezed your thighs together, heat forming between them. You had always liked Curly, most of the women did, he was a heartthrob space captain after all. But this new Curly, he wasn’t a heartthrob, but he was alluring and frightening, and he got you wetter than a pretty boy could. 

“Spread your legs,” he said, a command. 

You leaned back a bit and opened up for him. His metal fingers caressed your clothed cunt, a wet spot already showing.

“Dirty girl, just filthy,” he cooed in your ear.

His hand slipped into your pants and his cold fingers found your heat. He started to rub your clit, then sneaked down to your soaked entrance, spreading your folds. 

“Do you want me…want me to take t-them off?” You stuttered.

“No,” Curly said. “I want you to ruin them.”

Your hips bucked as he shoved two digits inside you. You grabbed onto his shoulders, digging your fingers in. Then you realized, were you hurting him? You removed your hands. 

“It’s alright,” he said. “Put them back.”

You did so, continuing to ride his hand. His fingers scissored you open while his palm rubbed your aching bud, filling you with warmth and making your stomach tighten. 

“I thought about you, up there, in the escape pod. When I wasn’t suffering, I was fantasizing, imagining myself with you.”

You threw back your head and closed your eyes. You knew he was full of shit, he just wanted to fuck you. You didn’t care, though, you wanted him to, but, could he?

Curly increased his speed, ramming his fingers into your sweet spot, making a “come here” motion. It was too good, you were going to go over the edge any moment. 

“Cum on my hand,” he ordered.

“F-Fuck…” you gasped, and flooded your panties with your arousal. 

Your moans filled the room, and your cum coated Curly’s prosthetic. He stared at you, brows furrowed. 

“Pathetic, aren’t ya?”

He stood and walked to the door. “I know you’re curious - yes, it’s scarred but intact. Remember that for next time, slut.”

He left. You sat on your bed, panting and already feeling uncomfortable from your sticky undergarments. He was a bastard, would you actually let him fuck you later on?

Yes, you would.  

[sofreddie]

Not Our First Fan

Summary: Y/N is a friend, but also a fan. Dosing her with a truth serum should reveal if she's a threat, like other fans in the past. But what's revealed surprised them even more.

Characters: Dean x F!Reader, Sam, Castiel, Rowena

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Drugging, First POV/Alternating POV, Smut (Protected Sex, Oral Sex), Mentions of Breeding Kink

WC: 12, 393 (Yikes!)

A/N: Ok, so, over the course of a few months, when I had to take my roommate's kid to speech therapy, I sat in the car in the parking lot and just wrote. A little each time until it grew into this massive and awesome fic, and I am so happy to share it! Feedback is appreciated. : )

My Masterlist

Y/N POV

I sat in stunned silence across the table from Sam and Dean, my eyes flitting between them as I processed what Sam had just said. There was a truth serum in my drink. He had questions and didn’t trust my potential responses.

I hadn’t been with them long, an accident that landed me - a mere fan - in their lives. Although we had become amicable, I never thought they’d use such methods.

“So, what do you want to know?”

I was surprised at my calm tone as I polished off my drink and pushed the glass away. It was already in me; there was no need to be thirsty or sober.

“The truth.”

“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes at Sam before glancing at Dean, who sat silently and watched.

“We have to know; to protect ourselves. Not our first fan.”

I rolled my eyes again. I knew that, too, but it didn’t stop me from feeling offended.

“Is there a question, or…?”

Sam snorted at my attitude. There was no escaping this, so I hoped I could play it like it didn’t scare me or that I had nothing to hide.

“Fine.” He sat up straighter and shook his arms before leaning forward, casually resting his arms on the table as he leveled a heavy gaze at me. “How do you honestly think and feel about me?”

He smirked slightly at my surprised look. I didn’t want to answer, but I could feel the words bubbling up on their own, trying to hold them back, making me sick to my stomach.

“You’re really freakin’ hot. Nice to look at. I would love a night or two to bang you like a screen door in a hurricane. But there’s a lot I don’t like, and I don’t see anything beyond friends because of your issues.”

My eyes widened with every word that fell, and I was mortified when I finished. I couldn’t read Sam, but he seemed equally surprised, smug, and offended. At least it shut him up for a minute. Dean, however, was unchanged and unreadable.

“Well, I guess it’s safe to say it’s working,” Sam huffed humorlessly.  

I wished a hole would open and swallow me up, take me away from this forming shitstorm.

“So,” he leaned forward again, and I already knew what he would ask next. I shook my head, silently begging him not to. “How do you honestly think and feel about Dean?”

God, I fought. My fingers gripped the table, and I shook my head as pained sounds passed through my pressed-shut lips. The word vomit was collecting in the back of my throat to choke me.

"Y/N?" Sam pressed, probably wondering - same as myself - how I was holding back. Dean's shell cracked enough that I could see concern.

“I love and admire him,” I spat, the words painfully and forcefully pulled from me, my heart and mind feeling shredded with each uttered word. “I’m in love with him. I want to show him he is worthy of love and be the one to give it to him. And kids. And the Hunter Pie life. To give him all he ever wanted because he deserves it and more.”

Tears streamed down my face, and I panted to breathe as twin looks of utter shock passed over the brothers.

“Please,” I begged, jumping from my seat. “Please, no more. Don’t do this.”

As they hesitated, I took the opening and ran like hell from the Library to my room. I could hear them shouting as I retreated in horror.

“Don’t. Let her go, Sam.”

“Dean!”

I slammed and locked the bedroom door behind me, then slowly fell into bed, hard sobs wracking my body, and my heart shattered until I passed out.

-

I was determined to forget about it when I woke up. Or, I would do my best to ignore them and continue my usual domestic duties. 

I went to the bathroom and the kitchen to start coffee and breakfast. I liked helping out, and Dean especially seemed appreciative, which only encouraged me. Would that change now? Maybe they’d make me leave because what I said was too awkward.

As I finished cooking, I heard the Bunker door close, meaning Sam must have returned from his morning run and would be heading to the showers. Another door closing alerted me that Dean would be entering the kitchen at any moment seeking coffee.

I sipped from my mug on the island as he shuffled into the room like a half-asleep zombie and poured himself a cup. It took a few gulps before he could open his eyes enough to see me.

“Mornin’,” he spoke gruffly, and I fought back the swoon as usual.

“Mornin’,” I responded. “Uh, there’s breakfast. Help yourself.”

I forced a smile, then grabbed my mug, taking hurried steps desperate to carry me out of the room and away from the man I loved—who now knew I loved him. But that beautiful man was also intelligent and quick and wouldn’t let me get away so quickly.

“Y/N?” He sat down his coffee and stepped closer. “About last night. I’m sorry; that shouldn’t have happened. We… were paranoid and worried it might be like Becky or something all over again, and we just wanted to be sure.”

As he explained, I looked to the ground but nodded to his words. In a way, I got it, but it still didn’t make it okay.

“You never…” he paused and licked his lips. “You never said anything. Never even gave a hint. I mean,” he chuckled, “I really didn’t see that coming.”

“I was never going to say anything,” I admitted, and he looked confused and something else. “I was never going to act on it. It was my secret and my burden. But now it’s all weird, and you probably want me to leave.”

Oh Lord, I couldn’t cry in front of him again!

“Why would I want you to leave?”

His question left me speechless, and I wasn’t sure how best to answer.

“You know,” he moved as he spoke, approaching closer and closer until my back hit the counter, and there was an arm’s length between us. “Women have told me they love me and can picture a life or future with me. But never in this life, never in a hunting life. And none of them, not one, has ever wanted to have my children.”

Okay. Where was he going with this? I was too nervous and scared to move or make a sound. I dared to meet his eyes and instantly regretted it as I felt my heart flutter madly.

“And I have no idea what a Hunter Pie life is,” he chuckled before moving just a few inches before me. “But I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

His words, eyes, and closeness were daring me to do something. But that couldn’t be right. In all my fantasies, I never believed that he would ever entertain the idea. But now… Dean groaned as his phone rang in his pocket, and I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Jody, hey," Dean answered, stepping a few feet away to focus on the call. “Yeah, Okay. Sam and I can be there in a couple of hours. All right, see you soon.”

He hung up and sighed, returning to me as Sam entered the room. We all glanced at each other before Dean cleared his throat.

“Jody and the girls,” Dean tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Got a case, and they need our help. Ready in ten?”

Sam huffed but nodded, giving the food a yearning glance before rushing to pack. Dean lingered, running a hand down his face and flashing a tight smile before heading off to get ready. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or sad, but I was certainly confused.

I rushed through the kitchen, packing up breakfast and some other food for them to take with them. I always tried to give them premade meals in thermal coolers that they could refrigerate or microwave. They seemed to appreciate having home-cooked food while away.

As the brothers loaded their bags, I carried the cooler and a paper bag of immediate consumables to the car. I placed the cooler on the back floorboard before handing Dean the paper bag.

“Thanks,” he grinned, passing the bag to Sam, who immediately started digging through it. I expected him just to climb in and leave, but he paused while fidgeting with his keys.

“Please don’t leave while we’re gone.”

I wasn’t expecting that, but the idea was one of many emotionally driven bad decisions I had been considering.

“We’ll talk,” he promised with a nod. “I’ll text and call, and we’ll talk.”

I nodded and gave the same tight-lipped smile he’d given before. Then, I let out a sigh of relief as they drove away.

-

Dean POV

God, this hunt came at the shittiest possible time. I didn’t want to go. Leaving felt like closing the door on this thing I just discovered. But I didn’t have a choice.

Jody and Claire stumbled on a vamp nest that was the biggest they’d ever seen. It was a giant damn hive. Though she’d called Donna and a few others, it was an ‘all hands on deck’ situation. It didn’t mean I wanted to leave. Something was brewing, changing between Y/N and me. I was terrified it would disappear if I couldn’t tend to it. But if she genuinely meant what she said, then I supposed this could be a test of that. Or maybe even a way to feel it out over text. Face-to-face always made shit complicated and awkward. I was less likely to fuck anything up this way, but still fully capable.

“So,” Sam broke the silence, and my grip tightened on the wheel. “We gonna talk about what happened last night?”

“Sam, I told you to leave it.”

“No, Dean!”

His persistence pissed me off. I didn’t want to get into it with him, but he was on a mission.

“Look, we agreed to give her the serum and question her. We wanted to see what she knew and if she was a threat, like Becky. I thought asking those questions first might be awkward but clear the air. I wasn’t expecting…that.”

“She’s not a threat, Sam.”

“Well, we don’t know that because we didn’t get to ask her anything.”

“What’s really got you so worked up, huh? You mad she’s just not that into you?”

My brother’s annoyed bitchface was satisfying enough to make me smirk. At least he shut up for half a second.

“Don’t you get it?” Sam growled through clenched teeth. “She could be YOUR Becky, Dean. Who knows what she might do if she thinks she loves you.”

My hands wrung the wheel a little harder as I resisted the urge to hit him. I’m unsure why I felt so protective of her then, but I knew she wasn’t like Becky. She wasn’t like any of them, but I couldn’t prove it to him.

“Sam, let me handle this. Please.”

His stunned silence made me glance over to see him gaping like a fish and over-analyzing.

“Yeah. Okay.” He huffed, turning his gaze to the window. I rolled my eyes so hard my head went with it.

“Don’t say ‘Yeah. Okay.’ like…Yeah. Okay.”

“Yeah,” He shrugged, pretending to lose interest in the conversation. “Okay.”

I pressed the pedal harder. Maybe this hunt came at the perfect time. I really needed something to kill.

-

It was a bloodbath: so many vamps and beheadings, so many injured hunters, so many dead or turned victims. Though we cleared the nest with no casualties to our team, it didn’t feel like much of a victory. No one was saved.

There was still celebration and rivalry to be had as we patched each other up and cheered over the mass amount of bloodsucking bastards we killed and future victims we spared.

It was just what I needed to get the itching energy and simmering anger at my brother out of my system. Now buzzed and beat, I only wanted one thing at that moment. As everyone, including my overgrown baby brother, went to bed, I grabbed my beer and quietly wandered outside. I found myself sitting on Baby’s hood and appreciating the quiet and still night. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Y/N. It was late, and she might be asleep, but I needed to hear her voice. 

I’d kept my word, and we’d been texting, but it was mostly to keep her apprised of the hunt. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it or her since those seemingly fateful words tumbled from her lips. As her sleepy voice answered, I felt a flutter in my heart, making me feel like a kid again.

“Dean?” she yawned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Hunt’s done. Was a ton of them bastards.” I tried to laugh but knew she’d see through it

“Is everyone alright?”

“Little banged up, but we’re all good. No vics to save, though.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was a mess,” I sighed, and a comfortable silence fell between us. I needed a distraction. “You never did tell me about this Hunter Pie life of yours.” I chuckled for real this time, maybe some of it nerves, as I hoped she’d talk to me and open up without a serum. When she giggled, I felt the flutters again.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just…tell me how it looks. In your mind, how does it go?”

“Wow,” she huffed and chuckled again before clearing her throat. “Um, okay.”

The silence drew out again, and I wondered if she was backing out, but then she continued.

“Okay. Well, I guess I always thought it would be like it is now, you know? Like me cooking and domestic and stuff at the Bunker.”

She ‘always’ thought? I pinned a note in that for later, but I hoped she had more. I hummed to let her know I was listening. She just didn’t know I was hanging on to her every word.

“Family meals where you and Sam tell the kids and me about the hunt. Giving them a normal life and home base while keeping them informed and trained. Hide and seek in the Bunker with Nerf guns and call it a hunt.”

She was laughing, and I could hear her smile as she spoke, mine growing with her tales.

“There are so many scenarios where you could play games with the kids that’s still training. Or just spending time doing normal things.”

It sounded amazing, though I wasn’t entirely convinced it was possible. But hearing and picturing it made me feel infinitely better, among other things.

“And what about us?” I knew I was crossing a line into new territory. Begging her to tell me all this, I knew, was giving her hope—and much-needed hope for me.

“Us?” She echoed, and I grinned at her surprised tone. “I just want to take care of you. To show you that you are worthy and deserve it all and more. To be lucky enough to be in your arms. To give you whatever you need and want. To hold you, listen, patch you up, and watch movies in bed while eating junk food.”

We laughed together, and I had to wipe away a tear. I could see it so clearly. I wished I was there to wrap her in my arms like she described. The WANT that simmered within me was something I’d never felt before.

When she yawned, I felt like an ass, having woken her just to make myself feel better. But it did exactly what I’d hoped.

“I’m sorry; I’m gonna let you get back to bed. It’s late.”

“You sure?” 

She seemed disappointed, and I was, too. But we both needed sleep and the sooner I got that, the quicker I’d return to her.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Sooner I sleep, the sooner I can get home.”

I hadn’t meant to say that, but her soft chuckle made it worthwhile.

“I’ll be waiting.”

We said our goodnights and hung up. She’d be waiting for me, for us to begin. I just needed a couple of hours of sleep, and then I’d push Baby to her limits to get back home as quickly as possible.

-

Y/N POV

What the fuck was that? What just happened? I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes but couldn’t fight the tiredness pulling me back under.

When I woke up again, I felt good and refreshed. Then I remembered the call from the night before. I dove for my phone on the nightstand to find a text from Dean.

Dean: Heading out soon. See you in a few hours. ;)

It had already been nearly two hours since he’d sent the text. I jumped out of bed in a panic, knowing there wasn’t much time before they’d return. Did he even sleep?

I rushed to shower and dress before going to the kitchen and making coffee. I wasn’t sure how much time I had, but I knew Sam and Dean would be hungry.

I tried to focus on cooking, but I kept replaying our conversation from the night before. And what was with the winky face? Did last night mean something, or did he need comfort after a lousy hunt? The things I said—how could I look him in the eye?

When the roar of the Impala entering the garage sounded through the Bunker, I fought the urge to run and hide. Just…act NORMAL.

“Damn, it smells good in here.”

I turned to see Sam and Dean entering the kitchen with big smiles. However, they both looked like they’d had their asses handed to them on that hunt. 

“We’re fine,” Dean answered, my concern written on my face. This was gonna be harder than I thought.

“I figured y’all would probably be hungry.”

“He’s always hungry,” Sam teased as he made a plate. I was glad he seemed to ease the tension I was choking on.

“Just glad that’s all over,” Dean responded, joining Sam at the table.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” I told them before slinking to my room to hide like a coward.

Just as I thought, I couldn’t look either of them in the eye. What if they talked about it, about me? Of course, they did. Were things just going to be unbearably awkward now? How long could I pretend and hide?

Turns out, not long at all.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Dean knocked on the partially open door before opening it and stepping inside the room.

“Hey, Dean. Need something?”

Yeah, just keep it cool—really chill.

“Yeah,” he grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. Wait, was he nervous? “I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie in my room or something.”

This really was happening.

“Netflix and chill?” I teased and laughed, watching his tension ease. “That’s your play?”

“Well, you’re the one who mentioned it in our planned future,” he teased back, and my confidence faltered for a minute.

“I thought you might want to get some sleep. It didn’t seem you got much between our call and that text.”

“Then we’ll watch and nap,” he shrugged, taking my hand and guiding me to his room. And, of course, I went willingly, following him in a trance and soaking up the warmth of his touch.

Once in his room, he released my hand to set up something on the TV. I sat on the end of the bed, hands in my lap as I awkwardly tried to figure out what to do and how to act. He kicked off his shoes and flannel, leaving him in jeans and a t-shirt before dramatically flopping onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“Come here?” he asked as he patted the space beside him.

“‘Kay,” I grinned and eagerly slid beside him, smiling harder as his arm settled around my shoulders, tucking me into his side.

I had dreamed and fantasized about this moment - as simple and innocent as it may be - so many times, and now it was a reality. I was more than surprised that his reaction to my truth was desire. But if he genuinely gave me a chance, I was determined to give him everything I said and more. Whatever he wanted, I was prepared to give.

-

Dean POV

It had been years since I’d done something as simple as cuddling and watching a movie. It felt intimate and special. As she quoted a line from the film, eating some junk food I’d laid out, I wondered if it was a djinn dream or a spell.

I wasn’t a blind fool, much as Sam tried to insist I was. I knew she was a fan, and we didn’t know much about her, which was why I agreed to the serum to begin with.

But I’d observed her plenty in her time with us. She was kind and helpful and an artist in the kitchen. She was a natural caregiver. She was funny and charming. She was super bright, too, with how she spoke, things she knew, and how easily she took to research - which she also happened to be great at. It didn’t hurt she was hot as fuck, but she had no clue.

Then, learning she was in love with me sent my mind reeling. I wasn’t a total idiot - letting this, her, pass me by would be the dumbest thing ever. I had to try, take a chance, or regret it forever.

She noticed when I glanced at her, turning her head to meet my eyes. Letting the moment sweep me away, I leaned in, pleasantly surprised when she slowly met me in the middle. My eyes fluttered, and I hummed at the sweet little spark that tingled my lips. I tilted my head, kissing her a little harder, more sure. She responded in kind, and that spark shot down my spine.

Cupping her jaw, I titled her head as I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips, begging her to open to me. I needed to taste her as much as I needed my next breath.

When she parted her lips, a gentle moan spilled forth. When my tongue slipped past her lips and tasted her soft, warm tongue, a responding moan was ripped from my chest. She tasted divine. Her tongue chased after my own, but I could feel her restraint. She was holding back; I knew it was because she was unsure, not in her feelings or wanting me. Instead, she didn’t know what I was after, too afraid to push forward and break the spell.

I pulled back, intent on breaching the topic, but a knock at my door broke the trance. Stupid Sam and his lousy timing. Another firm series of knocks had me rolling my eyes and groaning. Reluctantly, I released Y/N and opened the door; Sam was surprised to see her on the bed behind me.

“Hey, do you have a minute?” he asked, casting her a wary glance. I stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind me, following him a few feet down the hall.

“What, Sam?”

-

Sam POV

I wanted to talk to Dean about Y/N and this whole situation. I wasn’t expecting to find her in Dean’s bed with flushed cheeks. This whole thing was quickly spinning out of control.

“Het, got a minute?”

I didn’t want to have this conversation with Y/N around. Luckily, Dean closed the door and followed me down the hall.

“What, Sam?”

“What are you doing?”

“Sam, I told you-”

“No, Dean. We don’t know what her game is. She could have done a spell or made a deal. And you’re in there feeding her little fantasy.”

My older brother was incredibly defensive. He stood tall and stubborn with his arms crossed, but I could see in his eyes that he wanted to hit me.

“Look,” Maybe changing tactics would get him to see reason. I didn’t want to see him taken advantage of for the sake of some crazy fanatics’ whims. “All I’m saying is let’s look into her and this more. Talk to Cas, maybe Crowley or Rowena. Just…make sure it’s, you know, legit.”

As Dean slightly relaxed, I saw I was finally getting through to him. Y/N was nice to have around, but my paranoia wouldn’t rest until I was confident she wouldn’t cause us harm.

“Fine,” Dean agreed in a huff, his arms dropping to his sides. “Call Cas or whatever, do your research. Meanwhile, I’m going back to her and enjoying what I KNOW is real.”

Neither of us expected to see Y/N standing in the open doorway. I wasn’t sure how much she’d heard, but she looked hurt and determined.

“I’m gonna go to my room. Let you all figure this out.”

“Y/N-”

“It’s okay, Dean. Sam’s right; you can’t be sure, and I want you to be sure.”

She left the hall and went to her room. I was relieved and also incredibly guilty. That could be part of her plan. But as Dean turned back to face me, I again worried he’d throw a punch.

“You get what you wanted,” Dean spat through gritted teeth.

“Dean, I’m just looking out for you. You did the same thing with Becky, and it was for the best.”

He nodded but silently returned to his room, slamming the door loud enough to make me jump. I’d call Cas and Rowena to get to the bottom of this.

-

I stood in the Bunker’s library two days later with Y/N, Dean, Castiel, and Rowena. Except, all eyes were pointed at me with varying expressions.

While Dean was against it, Y/N allowed Cas and Rowena to poke, prod, and pry at her and her mind, searching for anything unusual. But there was nothing. According to Cas and Rowena - who both looked at me with pained sympathy - her love for Dean was pure and true, the real deal and soul-deep.

Dean looked at me with smugness and contempt. I knew he was feeling so damn righteous. But Y/N - she looked defeated and heartbroken. I knew I was an ass, but I couldn’t help feeling something was still off. If she knew all the horrible details of our lives and the many things we’d done - why the hell would she love either of us? Especially my love-em-and-leave-em brother?

“Are we done?” Y/N spoke, standing tall, but I could see the tears in her eyes and the waver in her voice. “Can I go?”

-

Y/N POV

After two whole days of being ripped open and exposed, working to prove myself in ways I never intended, I was more than done. I wanted to be thrilled at meeting the angel and the witch, but the circumstances left me feeling violated in many ways.

“Are we done? Can I go?”

I didn’t wait for a response, turning and heading for my room before the tears fell. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I didn’t even leave the library before a hand grabbed my arm.

“Y/N, wait,” Dean pleaded. I turned to him, and a single tear escaped to stream down my face.

“I just want to go. To forget any of this ever happened.”

“You could do that?” Dean asked, and my heart clenched at the hurt on his face. “Forget it?”

“No, but I have to,” I pulled slowly from his touch, already missing it.

“We can do this; we can make it work,” he insisted, and I shook my head and laughed, though it was without humor.

“THIS wouldn’t have happened if you two hadn’t snuck a truth serum in my drink. Sam questioned me, ripping my secrets from me, doubting me entirely. And you…you did nothing. Sam is the most important person in your life. If he’s not on board, it will never work.”

He didn’t say anything, but my words struck a chord. He didn’t try to stop me when I retreated a second time. While I was grateful, it also hurt. At least nothing more than a kiss happened. It might be easier to recover.

-

Dean POV

Hurt and anger were all I could feel. I understood Y/N’s position somewhat, though it hurt that she’d turn away. I turned to face my brother, all my anger directed at him.

“Are you happy now?” I shouted at him, and he dared to appear surprised. “This is your fault.”

“Dean, I’m just-”

“Looking out for me? Yeah, I know. But why does it feel like you’re jealous?”

“Whoa, I’m not-”

“You’re both daft fools,” Rowena spoke as she busied herself with tidying the items on the table.

“Excuse me?” Sam and I spoke at the same time.

“You two have put that poor lass through hell trying to find the truth. A truth that’s pure love. And while you act like you want it, you’ve done nothing. You let Sam question and doubt her. And she’s right; it’ll never work if Sam doesn’t support it because you two are so grossly intertwined. And you, Samuel,” she turned her fiery attention to Sam, and I felt a little scared for him. “You’re so busy thinking her love is undeserved that you must find a reason it can’t be real.”

“Undeserved?” I looked at my brother; his silent shame told me all I needed. “That’s it, right?”

“Dean, come on. How could someone know everything we’ve done and still love us—love you? I mean, love and relationships aren’t your thing. Don’t you think maybe someone or something is behind this?”

“Sam,” Castiel chimed in to chastise my brother.

I couldn’t look at him any longer, or I would kick his ass. I took off to my room. I wanted to go after Y/N, to beg for forgiveness, but I knew I couldn’t go to her as angry as I was, and she needed space, too. As I realized I may have genuinely lost this before I even got to glimpse it, I felt my lips tingle with the phantom press of her lips to mine. I’d just have to wait to let her come to me. I hoped she still wanted to and that Sam would get his head out of his ass.

-

Sam POV

Several weeks had passed since this whole truth serum mess with Y/N, and I was left feeling like a complete dick.

After Cas and Rowena checked her over, we all went our separate ways. Things in the Bunker seemed to go back to how they were, except no one talked to each other outside of pleasantries or necessity.

My brother would glare at me or make a snide remark to ensure I knew he was pissed. He felt I ruined everything, and maybe he was right. Y/N still cooked and cleaned and helped with research. But she didn’t make eye contact or small talk or linger. She didn’t eat with us or stay in the room for long. It made Dean more bitter every day.

I knew I had let my paranoia and fear get the better of me, and maybe I was a little bit jealous. Out of the two of us, I was the one who was only worth a good time? But as I reflected on her time with us and her interactions with Dean, I realized how much they had in common and enjoyed each other's company—even without romance mixed in.

I had to figure out how to make this right for both of them. I just had to convince Y/N I was sorry and wrong and that she and Dean should try to be together. Then Dean would forgive me, and all would be right again.

-

Dean POV

Sam had tried talking to me and apologized. I was grateful but still pissed. He swore he’d try to make things right, but I asked him not to. She hadn’t made eye contact or spoken any friendly words since Sam - no, since WE - had Cas and Rowena check her.

Sam was right; I didn’t deserve her. And I was heartbroken at her distance, her change in demeanor. I knew she was deeply hurt. As pissed as I was at Sam, I was even more so at myself. I did nothing to stand up for or defend her against the tests. I was just as guilty.

She would never have said anything. I never would have known had we not drugged her. I wanted to be mad about that, too, and was to a degree. Was this all some test, or were Sam and I destined to destroy everyone who crosses our path and dares to care about us?

The point may be to fight. But if I really wanted it, why wasn’t I trying harder?

I overheard the two of them in the kitchen the other night. However, it was mostly Sam, as she still didn’t seem to be in a chatty mood. I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, and maybe I should have let them know I was there, but curiosity got the better of me.

Just like with me, he was apologizing to her. But he was also practically BEGGING her to give me another chance. He swore he was on board and supported it - hell, he was full-on dreaming for it to happen now. She thanked him for his apology and said no more.

I didn’t know what to do. But I knew Sam was okay with us, and I wanted to find out what ‘us’ even looked like.

-

Y/N POV

Sam had been giving me whiplash. One day, he was utterly suspicious of me, then he ignored me, and now he’s practically begging me to give Dean a chance—as if I’d been the one rejecting him. I didn’t know what to do.

While I was glad they’d both apologized, I was still hurt. I tried my best to see things from their side: how this might all seem a rational way to go about things or why they were so paranoid. But my pain and embarrassment kept me quiet, just trying to make it day by day while focusing on business as usual. Maybe we’d all move on and put this whole thing behind us.

Until then, I had to do my best to maintain a sense of routine in the Bunker for their sakes. And I wasn’t going to hide away in my room moping either.

This is how I found myself in the library, reading a book as Sam sat on the opposite side with his laptop. I didn’t know if he was researching or looking for a case, but I did know I was pretty irritated that, with many other tables and chairs, he chose to sit across from me.

I tried to focus on the book but scanned the words more than I read them. I was aware of Sam constantly looking at me as if he had something to say before hastily looking back at his screen. I pretended not to notice until I stiffened at the sound of Dean’s approach.

I wanted to run and hide every time he entered the room, afraid he’d catch my longing looks or hear how fast my heart beat when he passed close enough to touch and smell. I could still feel his kiss and the warmth of his hand on my cheek as he held me sweetly. I tried to control it, but now that he knew, I felt so exposed, as if he could sense my every thought. It was a bit unnerving.

I tried to focus on my book as Dean concentrated on his brother, who leaned back in his chair to give him his attention.

“Garth needs backup on a hunt,” Dean announced, and I relaxed, knowing they’d likely leave soon.

“Okay,” Sam stood from his chair, gathering his laptop. “Meet at the car in ten?”

Sam began walking away before Dean’s voice made him stop.

“Uh, actually,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and smirked at his brother. “You and Garth should be able to handle it. Baby needs some maintenance anyway.”

Sam - to his credit and that annoying silent communication of theirs - paused only a moment before seeming to decide.

“Yeah, okay,” he responded quickly and eagerly, making me look at him directly.

He flashed me a smile before continuing his retreat from the room. The quiet, along with being alone with Dean, was sending my anxiety through the roof. He turned to face me, and - Lord, help me - I couldn’t even pretend to care about the book as our eyes met for the first time in what felt like ages.

“So,” he grinned as he slid into the seat Sam had just vacated, refusing to break the locked gaze. “Are you hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something.”

Okay, so he was waving a white flag. I could get behind that, and I was definitely hungry.

-

Dean POV

“You hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something?”

She relaxed, but I could see she was still apprehensive. I hated this awkward silence and distance, which hung like a dark cloud over everything. She had confessed her love, both with the serum and without. She spoke about our potential lives, which left me craving. But I hadn’t done much to show my want, to fight for it like she had done.

When Garth called about a case, I saw an opportunity. I would put on my A-game and fight for this, for us.

“Uh, okay. Yeah, sure,” she forced a smile, but I met it with a genuine one.

“Great,” I answered, standing from my seat and gesturing for her to follow. I was only slightly surprised that she did.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever you want is fine.”

Whatever I want? I grinned and fought back the chuckle as she followed me to Baby in the garage.

“I thought Baby needed work?”

I did laugh then as we settled in the front seat of my car.

“Yeah, I sort of wanted an excuse to be alone with you.”

“Oh.”

She blushed and bashfully looked away. I bit my lip and started the car, driving us into town. If she didn’t care where we went, I knew a place on the edge of town with great burgers, cheap beer, good music, and pool tables. I’d be in my element and could pull my best moves. I was intent on wooing her, and this was usually how I succeeded with others. 

She was not anything like the others at all. She was so much more, from her looks to her body to her mind and heart. As we parked outside the roadhouse, I wondered if this place was the best idea.

Her soft smile was encouraging. As we went inside, my hand hovered over her lower back, guiding her through the crowd to an empty table in the middle of the room. It allowed me to watch everything, and I felt even more on guard than usual with her there.

I watched tentatively as she sat across from me, her eyes scanning the surroundings before landing back on me with a shy smile.

“I hope this is okay. We can go somewhere else if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, this is great!”

She seemed genuinely happy to be there, and I relaxed. The waitress came and took our orders, and I was pleased to hear Y/N talk more than she had been recently. I guess now was a good time to speak with her about what’s been on my mind.

“Look, Y/N…I want you to know that I am so damn sorry.”

She met my eyes then, and I swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened, that I let happen. We shouldn’t have pried. I’m so sorry you got hurt and exposed and that I didn’t stand up for you.”

She dropped her gaze to the table, tensing up again, and it felt like that beautiful door of opportunity was closing. I needed her to interact with me. Anything was better than the distance and empty pleasantries. At this point, I didn’t care if she flirted or screamed at me.

The waitress returned our order, and I thanked her. Y/N was focused on her food.

“I’m not sorry that I know. In fact, I’m a little pissed you were never gonna tell me.”

I took a bite from my burger and was waiting for her reaction. She stared at me with narrowed eyes before clearing her throat.

“What, I’m just supposed to come out and say it? Even though there was barely a friendship between us?”

She scoffed and returned to eating. But I was frozen, caught up in her choice of words.

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

Had she given up? Has she decided we weren’t worth it? That I wasn’t worth it?

-

Y/N POV

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

The pain in his tone made my heart clench. I didn’t mean to imply we weren’t anymore, but it didn’t feel like we were.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

He accepted it, and we ate in comfortable silence. When the waitress returned to clear the table, Dean settled the bill but asked to start a tab for drinks. When a whiskey shot was set before me, I clanked with Dean’s and knocked it back, taking it for the peace offering it was.

“Thank you for apologizing. I can understand why you two felt you needed to do those things. I just wish you would’ve asked.”

“So if Sam asked how you felt about me, without the serum, what would you have said?”

“I would have said I respect and admire you.”

“But not that you love me? Why?”

I had a feeling he’d ask that at some point. I huffed a breath and chewed my lip as I chose my words.

“Because I’m not worthy. If I never say anything, I never have to face your rejection, which would hurt, and it’d hurt you to see me hurt ‘cause you just care that much.”

I guess I didn’t need a serum. The big secret was out, and I told Dean all about our fantasy lives. At least if I kept truthing, I’d know if he truly accepted me.

“But I didn’t reject you, Y/N.”

I met Dean’s eyes, seeing how open he was, letting me see his truth. The intensity I found there made me gasp a little.

“I did hurt you, and seeing that hurt me,” he continued. Reaching across the table, he held one of my hands. “But I didn’t reject you. In fact,” his grip tightened, and a flirty smirk adorned his luscious lips. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About our future. About that damn kiss.” He laughed, and I nodded my agreement because I felt the same.

“Hey folks, can I get you another round?”

The waitress returned, and I jumped. Dean held my hand, which was firm but gentle, and smiled at her.

“Yes, please. Two shots, two beers. Thanks,” he said, placing a nice tip on her tray, and she left with a smile. It always warmed me how he could be so charming, even without a trace of flirting. His keeping ahold of my hand sent my heart into a frenzy. Maybe I wasn’t reading enough into all of this, which had me chuckling aloud just as our next round arrived.

“What should we drink to?” Dean asked as we held our shots.

I put on my best flirty smirk and clinked my glass with his.

“To second chances?” I suggested, hoping he’d pick up and accept my insinuations.

“I’ll drink to that!”

We threw back our shots and spent moments looking at each other and smiling.

-

Dean POV

It felt almost like making a deal, but one I’d gladly make again and again. I’d never experienced this feeling. It was as if I was embarking on an exciting adventure, eager to learn everything about this person and savor and enjoy every morsel of her being that she was willing to feed me.

I did my best to shut out the dark voice in my mind, telling me it couldn’t last. Either I’ll fuck it up, or she’ll leave, or - God forbid - she dies. That tiny black hole within me was itching to devour all the happiness around me.

But in her presence, it grew quieter and easier to manage. Even before her confessions, I witnessed how kind and caring she was, her compassion providing comfort. She was nurturing, even in the way I imagined a loving mother would be. I don’t remember. But she was like soft candlelight shining amidst the pitch black within my mind.

“How about a game of pool?” I suggested, seeing some open tables. I could show off a little and maybe get a chance to get close to help her line up a shot.

“Okay,” she agreed, taking my hand when I offered it.

I was reluctant to let her go, but I had to set up a game. Basic eight-ball was fine with me and didn’t take much thought.

“I know how to play, but I’m not very good,” she admitted. I bit my lip to contain my excitement about helping her.

“No worries. It's just a fun game. No pressure. But I could show you some things if you want.”

“Eager to bend me over the table, huh?” She laughed, and I was initially shocked. But if she was ready to ‘play,’ then game on, Babygirl.

As we started the game, she was focused, analyzing angles and trying her best. I, however, was focused on her. The way she moved, thought, and bent like a dancer to take her shots, Her whole body was lithe and curvy, stretching like a cat. I noticed, too, that she was ambidextrous. With some practice and pointers, she’d be outstanding. She had a natural skill but wasn’t used to playing.

I went back to admiring her as her plump ass was on display as she bent for a shot and missed. The pout that followed made me want to kiss it away. She was effortlessly sexy, and she had no fucking clue.

“You ready to head back?” I asked after finishing a game. I was ready to be alone with her again, if only to kiss her senseless.

“Sure,” she grinned, placing her hand in mine before I could reach for her.

I grinned like a fool as I paid our tab and led her outside. But we were stopped by a storm, with rain falling thick and fast.

“Race you to the car?” she grinned before dashing into the downpour to the Impala at the back corner of the lot. She was crazy but beautiful.

Grinning again, I ran into the rain to take her hand as we ran to the car together, laughing the whole way.

-

Y/N POV

I dashed out into the rain, feeling giddy and playful. I was high on the night I was having. I had been entirely aware of Dean’s eyes on me - and quite a few other’s eyes - but I tried not to think about it and just be normal.

With my spirits high and being a bit drunk, I felt brave.

“Race you to the car?”

I took off, half expecting him to chastise me. But when he took my hand and ran with me, laughing the whole way, my heart soared. I felt free, alive, and blessed to share it with Dean, the man I loved.

Dean released my hand to get his keys and open the door as we got to the car. I was mesmerized by watching his hand and fingers work, wet from the rain.

“Get in,” he gestured, and I quickly moved, sliding across the bench to the passenger’s side.

“We’re gonna have to wait ‘til it calms down a little. I can’t see much in this.”

I didn’t think about that when running through the downpour. Dean turned on the car only to turn on the heat, and the radio was low on some classic rock station. I couldn’t help but look at him and admire how handsome he was and how that was accentuated by being drenched. It was giving me wicked thoughts, and with my inhibitions lowered, I knew I wasn’t hiding it well.

I shamelessly ogled him as he shed his jacket and overshirt, leaving him in a t-shirt. He tossed the wet clothes in the backseat before looking at me to find me attentively watching his every move. His eyes trailed slowly down my body and back up again. My breathing picked up as my heart raced. He licked his lower lip into his mouth and released it. I think I moaned a little.

“Y/N.”

Dean broke the silence, the rain still pounding hard outside. We leaned towards each other, and his hand cupped my cheek as our lips met. It was just as good as before, though I wondered if I’d imagined it.

His tongue ran gently across my lip, and I felt a flutter between my legs. I opened for him and melted as his tongue met mine. I let him lead, knowing he was used to this, but I hadn’t been with anyone in a while and hadn’t made a habit of hooking up or even taking chances. I was worried I might be out of practice, but I felt encouraged by his sounds and actions.

He pulled back, ending the kiss far too soon for my liking, and I may have whined a little. He chuckled, and I pouted. He leaned in with a groan, sucking my lower lip before kissing me soundly.

I felt like I was in trouble, but in a very sexy way. It was a little confusing. But I was quickly sobering as I realized where this was heading. At least, I hoped.

-

Dean POV

Goddamn, this woman would surely kill me - but what a way to go. I was ready to make her mine here and now, and I was almost sure she’d let me. But she deserved better than that. As sappy as it may be, I wanted our first time together in a bed - specifically MY bed - so I could take my time and make it memorable. Special.

If things go the way I hope, it will be our last first time. I had more than a good feeling about this, and I was ready to do whatever was necessary to have her in my life.

How did I get so damn lucky, so fortunate to have this woman in love with me?

The rain was still coming down, but it had lessened enough that I was confident in getting us home safely. And I NEEDED her home, even if it was only to make out all night.

“Let me get you home,” I whispered, stealing another kiss.

“Well, you’ll have to stop kissing me to do that.”

I kissed her again, and she chuckled as I began to drive. I wanted her closer, tucked into my side, but I knew I needed to focus on the road. The sooner I got her home, the sooner I could touch and kiss her again.

I somehow managed to pull safely into the Bunker’s garage despite Y/N’s gaze devouring me the whole ride. As my cock swelled painfully against my zipper, I prayed to God we were on the same page. I’d be fine if she wasn’t ready. But I was about to burst at just the thought of her.

As soon as I parked the car, I turned to her. She grinned and leaned in to kiss me again. I grabbed at her, holding her close to me as I poured myself into the kiss, letting her taste my desire. 

She straddled my lap with little encouragement, and I wrapped my arms around her to press our bodies together, our hungry kisses unbroken. I grabbed a handful of her hair and gently tugged her head back as my kisses moved along her jaw. When I reached behind her ear, I gave a little kitten lick. Her body jerked and ground against my lap, making me hiss as the zipper pressed against my painfully hard cock.

-

Y/N POV

I could feel how hard he was, his hands as hungry as his mouth. I felt bold knowing there was no rejection waiting, only want. I pulled from the kiss and held his face in my hands.

“Dean, take me to bed?”

I was practically sober now, and so was he. I looked him in the eye, letting him know I meant it.

“Are you sure?” He asked, which surprised me. “I don’t want to rush you or make you feel like I expect anything. If you’re not ready, that’s okay. I can wait. You’re worth waiting for.”

I felt like I would cry, but the patience and understanding he exhibited made me even more sure. I kissed him slow and deep, pulling back to meet his eyes again.

“Take me to bed, Dean.” I realized how that might sound, even if my tone was soft. “Please.”

That seemed to spur him to action. As he devoured my mouth again, I filed it as a note for later. He set me back on the seat and climbed out of the car, offering his hand, which I accepted.

He smoothly pulled me from the car, closed the door, and pressed me against it in what felt like one move. The desire and hunger I saw in his eyes were almost intimidating. He kissed me senseless, his hands on my hips as he pressed his weight into me. He was so strong and capable that it only turned me on more.

“Your room or mine?” I asked, feeling confident enough to be sultry.

“Oh, Baby,” he grinned, unable to go long without kissing me. “I want you in my bed so bad.”

I chuckled and nodded, letting him lead me through the halls to his room.  Once the door shut, he pressed me against it like in the garage. I could hardly believe this was happening, but I was so damn eager for it. His hands pushed my shirt up, and I let him remove it. He made quick work of my bra, and the cool air had my nipples hardening. He dove in with a hum, taking a nipple in his mouth and flicking with his tongue. My knees buckled, and I was grateful for his firm grip on my hips.

He moved to my other nipple and repeated his actions, ripping a loud moan from me as my hips bucked in his hold.

“You’re so sensitive and responsive,” he praised as he removed his t-shirt.

-

Dean POV

She was so beautiful, and her sounds were the sweetest music. She was so desperate and needy, her body reaching into my every touch, even if she wasn’t fully aware.

I felt frenzied, eager to take, feel, and claim. I had to force myself to calm down. I wanted to savor this, to drag it out, and make it as good as possible for both of us.

I reluctantly pulled back, just enough to kick off my shoes and remove the rest of my clothes. She looked at me with pure lust, panting as she mimicked my actions. My hands rushed as she became revealed to me.

As soon as we were both bare, she was pressed against me, seeking another kiss, which I was too happy to provide. Our hands were gentle and cautious as we explored every line, curve, and dip of each other, our lips and tongues dancing together. While I was no doubt aroused - my cock throbbing and pinned between us - her warmth and softness calmed me in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

I started walking backward, bringing her with me. I sat on the edge of the bed, intent on pulling her into my lap, wanting her close, but she seemed to have other ideas.

She slowly lowered to her knees, cupping my cheek with one hand, the other wrapping around my cock as she kissed me passionately, more dirty than any other before. She stroked me firm but slow, and when she ran her thumb over the head, I moaned into her mouth.

She pulled back with a grin and gently pushed me back with a hand on my chest until I was propped on my elbows, unwilling to take my eyes off her. She seemed just as intent as me to slow down, drag it out, as she kissed and locked along my lower stomach and hips, nipping lightly here and there, making me jump and groan.

“Not the only one sensitive and responsive,” she teased back at me, nosing along the crease of my thigh, turning her head to nip at the tender inner flesh of my thigh.

“Y/N!”

It was half shock, half desperate arousal. She was driving me insane. She gave in, licking from the base of my cock to the head, tonguing around the rim. My head dropped back, and that was the moment she took me in her warm, wet mouth with a tight suction that already had me embarrassingly close to coming.

She pulled off to tease me some more, and I seized the opportunity, sitting up and swiftly pulling her to straddle my lap. Before she could catch her breath, I turned and lifted her, smoothly laying her back on the bed, her legs wrapped around me, holding me close.

She gasped and laughed, making me chuckle along with her. God, this was a beautiful moment.

“I’ve never been manhandled like that. Surprised me,” she admitted shyly.

I laughed again and kissed her soundly.

“A night of firsts then,” I teased, kissing her deep and rutting my aching cock through her surprisingly damp folds. I was happy to know she was just as aroused as me.

As we drowned in kissing, I trailed my hand down her body and between her legs. I ran a finger over her clit before circling her entrance and sliding inside.

“So damn wet already,” I spoke against her lips, eager to swallow down her moans. “Bet I could just slide right in.”

Fuck, I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t thinking, only feeling as I adjusted my hips, grabbing my cock and sliding inside her. She was so tight and warm, and I could feel how deep I was. I had to stay still and catch my breath, or it’d all be over too soon. She was trembling around me, and I just wanted to make her come over and over.

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Y/N POV

Dean was inside me, buried deep and nestled against my cervix. It was delicious, and I was hyper-aware of our every connection: our underbelly brushing, his hips against my inner thighs, chest-to-chest, and panted breaths shared from barely grazing mouths.

He pulled back slowly and slid in again, smooth and gentle. I felt like my heart would explode or I might burst into tears. He increased his speed only a little, kissing along my neck and chest. I marveled at feeling him, so long and thick and impossibly hard, fucking into me gently but with purpose.

Then, my rational mind began to speak up, reminding me he was bare inside me. I clenched and moaned, fighting back my breeding kink.

“Dean, wait,” I pushed gently at his shoulders, and he went still.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I promised, pecking his lips to reassure him. “But we need a condom. I’m not on birth control.”

He seemed to pause and think before nodding and slowly pulling out. As he moved from the bed to retrieve a condom, I wondered if I’d upset him. He sheathed himself and crawled back on the bed, and I opened my legs to welcome him. But he didn’t go for it right away.

His hand slid along my thigh, up my side, and cupped my cheek, his eyes searching mine.

“What had you clenching and moaning so hard?”

I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I also knew he was intelligent and experienced and had probably figured it out.

“My…my breeding kink.”

I mumbled the words in embarrassment but felt compelled to be honest. His pupils dilated, and he captured my lips hungrily as he slid within me again, with no hesitation and no resistance. He was so thick I could still feel every bit of him through the condom, his girth stretching me deliciously, making me wriggle my hips impatiently.

-

Dean POV

Fuck, hearing her say the words ‘breeding kink’ might have been the sexiest thing I ever heard. That’s something I’d be chewing on for a while.

I slid back inside her, and she let a sigh. I felt relief at being connected again, too. I could still feel her walls squeezing around me, but I wished I could feel her bare again. The primal side of me awakened, wanting to make her mine and breed her full.

Instead, I focused on her face and her reactions as I moved. I kept our bodies close, nearly all of us touching, which was way more intimate than I was used to. It only added to the many moments that made this an extraordinary connection. I had to remind myself it was only the start, the first time of what I hoped to be countless others.

As I picked up my pace, I could tell she was getting close. My thumb found her clit, and I rubbed tight circles in time with my thrusts. Her breathing sped up, and I could tell she was holding back.

“Wanna feel you come,” I told her, leaning in to kiss her ear and whispering as I kept moving within her. “Imagine me bare inside you, ready to fuck you full.”

I felt her clench hard before she moaned out her release, her hands digging into my ass as she held me deep. I did my best to grind against her and ride out her high. She was fucking gorgeous, and I was nowhere near done with her.

In another practiced move, I rolled to my back, taking her with me, my cock never leaving her tight and drenched pussy. Still coming down from her high, she kissed me sloppy before sitting up straight. My cock slid deeper, and we moaned together as I held her hips and encouraged her to ride me.

-

Y/N POV

My head was light, my body tingling from the incredible orgasm. I usually stopped at one, but the feel of Dean was too good to give up. He wanted more from me, and I wanted to give it.

I sat up straight, my hands on his abs for leverage. He was so deep it was almost too much. When I began to move my hips, I was intent on giving as good as I got. But it was so incredible it quickly became about me: what I wanted to feel and how. Luckily, he was enjoying it just fine.

I was about to lean down and kiss him, but he sat up, wrapping his arms around me. I held his gaze as I rode him, slowly and intentionally clenching my walls to massage his shaft.

He snarled and kissed me hard, his thumb rubbing my clit again. I was surprised how quickly my second orgasm was creeping up on me, but I was hungry for it, and so was he.

“Dean!”

I couldn’t help but shout for him - at him - I wasn’t sure. A second later, I was coming, riding him hard through my high as he focused his attention on my breasts.

God, I was drained and sweaty, barely able to catch my breath, my body spasaming and pussy throbbing. I didn’t even notice he’d sat forward, laying me back on the bed, still hard and inside me as he lavished my breasts and nipples with teeth and tongue.

I knew he hadn’t come yet and was starting to get concerned. Maybe I couldn’t keep up with him? Maybe it wasn’t as good for him? I thought it was the best I’d ever had, but he was more experienced. But I couldn’t get my brain to form words.

I ran my hands through his hair and over his back, and he hummed at the touch. I wiggled my hips, reminding us both that he hadn’t come yet and was hard as a rock.

“Dean?” I urged him from my chest and met his eyes. “Wanna feel you come.”

I wiggled my hips again as much as I could in this position: my ass on his lap and back lightly bowed.

“M’close,” he spoke against my lips. “How do you want it?”

God, that was so sexy. But I was determined to make this good for him, too.

“Whatever you want. Anything!”

-

Dean POV

She felt so goddamn good. I wasn’t sure how I’d been able to hold back coming all this time. I wanted to make her feel good, but I also wanted to impress and show her that I could care for her. More importantly, I wanted to show her that I wanted her.

As she floated down from her high, I took the time to worship her, licking the sweat from her skin and riling her up for more.

“Dean?”

Her soft voice calling my name so sweetly had me pausing to look at her.

“Wanna feel you come.”

My cock twitched, more than ready, but I fought to hold back, desperate to please.

“M’close,” I admitted, pecking her lips. “How do you want it?”

She moaned, her legs widening, making me sink a little deeper.

“Whatever you want. Anything!”

“So fucking perfect.”

I couldn’t help but praise her and was pleased when she swooned. I grinned and kissed her again, the feel of it already becoming second nature. I ran my hands up her arms and pulled her hands above her head, urging her to grab onto the edge of the mattress.

We smiled warmly at each other as I sat back on my heels, draping her legs over my arms as I gripped her hips. Her back was arched, legs wide.

I pulled back and swiftly thrust back inside, starting a brutal pace that rocked her body and had her screaming. She gripped the bed tight as I let go, fucking her like I wanted to. I was sure it was equal parts pain and pleasure, but she took every inch of me again and again.

She was chanting my name over and over, her pussy spasming wildly around my cock. I was going to come any second, but I needed to feel her one more time. To have her pull me over the edge with her.

I held her tight, sure there’d be bruises I’d kiss later, giving her all I had. She screamed even louder before her pussy fluttered and gushed all over me.

I lost it, falling forward and groaning as I came hard, the condom swelling with my seed. I huffed hard, my head falling into the crook of her neck. I couldn’t have imagined our first time together being any better than what we shared.

I tried to make myself move, worried I was crushing her. But she wrapped her arms around me and shook her head.

“No. Don’t move. Please.”

I laughed and dropped my head back to her neck. I was good with that.

-

Y/N POV

Fuck, I couldn’t move. Dean tried, but my oversensitive body couldn’t handle it, so I begged him to stay still. He seemed content to remain there for the time being.

“That was hands down the best sex I’ve ever had.” I chuckled at my honesty and still quite cum-drunk.

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing my neck and pulling out. “You squirted.”

“I did?!” I had to lift my head and look, a big, wet mess all over us, the sheets beneath me wet. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Fuck, don’t apologize.” He tossed the condom and grabbed a towel to clean us up. I sighed and lay there, letting him. “It was so fucking hot, Baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, tossing the towel and moving us under the blankets. I went willingly, completely spent.

“Sleep?” I asked, desperately needing to recover.

“Sleep,” he agreed, pecking my lips before moving to spoon me, his arms wrapped around me securely.

-

When I woke later, I smelled coffee and gentle kisses on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and propped on my elbows, having shifted to my stomach at some point.

Dean was right there beside me, his smile warm. My heart melted all over again.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased with a chuckle. He shifted to sit back against the headboard, sipping at a mug.

“Hey.”

I forced myself to sit up, adjusting the blankets to cover myself as I leaned next to him, noticing he was shirtless, but the bedding covered his lap.

He handed me the mug, and I smiled bashfully as I drank the warm and delicious coffee inside. I returned it, and he set it on the nightstand, turning his attention back on me.

He grinned, leaning in and cupping my cheek as he kissed me sweetly. His hand trailed down my neck to my chest before thumbing at my nipple. The kiss turned heated in an instant as he made his intentions known.

He pulled back the covers, and I let him, though I whined that he pulled his lips away, too. He was just as naked as me and half-hard. But as his shoulders settled between my thighs, my mind went blank, simply eager for what he was about to do.

-

Dean POV

When I woke, I had to wipe drool from my chin after the incredible dream I had of feasting on Y/N’s sweet cunt. I sat up and wiped the sleep from my face before noticing Y/N was asleep beside me.

She was on her stomach, her hair a wild mess, her mouth hung open as she breathed heavy and deep. Remembering what happened earlier, a grin spread on my face as I realized it wasn’t all part of my dreams. I leaned down and gently kissed her shoulder, but she didn’t move.

I decided to rush to the bathroom and grab some coffee, trying to hurry because I wanted to be there when she woke up. Ideally, I could wake her sweetly, and then maybe she’d let me eat her out because that part was a dream, and I was aiming to rectify that for both of us.

I climbed back in bed, not having bothered with clothes since we were alone in the Bunker, at least for now. I set the cup aside and kissed her shoulder and back again. Featherlight and worshipful, I brought her to wakefulness.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” I greeted as her eyes opened.

I sat back, sipping coffee. She sat up next to me with a soft greeting and accepted the mug when offered. She had moved the blankets to keep herself covered, but I could see over her neck and chest where I’d marked her good. I hadn’t meant to; I didn’t even realize I was doing it. But seeing them in different shades and sizes only turned me on.

She returned the cup to me, and I mindlessly put it on the nightstand. I kissed her, eager to show how happy I was, to reinforce that it was real and reciprocated.

Pulling the covers back to expose us, I thumbed at her nipples, finding them already hard. I ignored the throbbing of my cock, and I lowered myself between her thighs. She was already a little wet, and I was desperate to have her slick coat my tongue. I wasted no time as I dove in, making out with her pussy, tasting every bit of her, mapping and testing her creases and folds.

Her hands ran through my hair, and her thighs clamped around my head. Her moans and pleas had me impossibly hard. I rutted against the bed as I slid two fingers inside her, sucking her clit hard between my lips. Her voice hitched, and her body tensed, so I doubled my efforts. She shattered, and I removed my fingers to delve my tongue deep inside, gulping down her release and savoring her tangy flavor.

I came onto the sheets with a muffled grunt as I wrung every ounce of her orgasm from her. When she relaxed with a sigh, I kissed up her body, elated and aroused as she kissed me deep and sucked at my tongue.

I pulled back to look at her - at this incredible woman who loved me and was willing to give herself to me. She ran her hand from my brow to my jaw, her eyes following the touch, a soft smile on her lips as she met my eyes. It felt incredibly intimate, and I laid my head on her chest, my body pressing into her. I was hiding from the onslaught of emotions she was creating inside me.

Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and one hand moved to run her nails over my scalp softly. I sighed and relaxed, taking the much-needed comfort she offered.

This was the part I always missed out on. It's always awkward mornings or quick goodbyes. With Y/N, I could stay, linger, and accept the peace and comfort I was always denied. I may have dozed off lying on her, but she never moved, her hands and nails soothing and relaxing me. 

God, I hoped it would always be like this. To be safe and loved in someone’s arms.

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[eroscomet]

Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours

Chapter one- Pieces of the Past

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Paring: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Context: You've known Tara for most of her life in Woodsboro, though you two were never close. After moving to NYC to escape everything she and her sister endured, she finds herself trying to regain control of her life despite being a wreck. After killing Amber, who had been her girlfriend for years, she has a hard time trusting new people as well as trusting relationships. During her time at Blackmore University, she finds herself getting closer to you. She unintentionally plays the push-and-pull game with you, pulling you in as if she wants to be more than friends with you and then pulling away when you actually seem to want to commit.

Warnings: Talks about death, murder, grievance, Trauma, PTSD, Mentions of forms of abuse, Mentions alcoholism, Mentions of weapons, bad writing. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Hellooooo, lovelies! I am currently working on the second part of 'Make it Right', it will be out soon, I promise. For now, I've decided to also begin writing other one-shots or starting other stories! I believe I am going to write more fics for Jenna's different characters. It might've been just a bit inspired by 'Casual' by Chappell Roan but that'll come in later chapters.

Not proof read

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

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No one said it was going to be easy, especially for the Carpenter sisters. With everything that they have endured, they now carry emotional baggage that they feel will follow them everywhere. Or so Sam feels that way. Tara refuses forthat to be her path, she refuses to be someone who lets one event define her entire life. She saw it with Sidney, Gale, and all those who have been through the same thing as her. People who can never seem to escape or move on from their past.

Tara refuses to see the therapist that Sam has been in contact with for her therapy sessions. She truly believes that she can handle it all on her own. Which, in retrospect, sounds absurd. Planning to go through four years of university without any help with her mental and emotional baggage? She doesn't want to talk to her friends about what happened or even think about what happened.

A part of her is still somewhat grieving Amber, it's expected, though. They had dated for quite some while, but Tara is now left with the thoughts of, 'Was any of it real?' Was Tara a pawn in Amber's sick and twisted game? That's how she felt like, at least. Like she let this all happen. Like all of it was somehow her fault. These destructive thoughts allowed Tara to cave in on herself. Her mind was as much a battlefield as her life itself.

Did she survive? Yes. Did she escape? No. She thought that moving away from Woodsboro would save her, she thought it was an escape. Her mind restricted her of that relief, of that escape. She survived, but at what cost? She feels she has absolutely no sense of direction. She wanted to blame Amber just as everyone had and then moved on, but she couldn'twhen she blamed herself for somehow allowing this to happen. Even now that Amber is gone, she still plagues her mind. 

There is no excuse that she can give for Amber's actions, and she isn't sure that she wants to make an excuse for her.Every night for her is the same. The memory, the nightmare turned reality, haunts her. It's always the same but in a third-person point of view. She sees herself holding the gun, everything slowing down for her at that exact moment. The gun recoiled as the shot was taken, the noise ringing out from it. The look on Amber's face, the realization on her face.

Like every time, the bullet comes in contact with Amber's head, and just like that, she's dead again. The sound of the knife that she once held in her hand clattering on the floor. The sound had been almost deafening in her nightmares. It'salmost taunting the way that she watched as the blood splattered on her face. The blood that had belonged to her once beloved girlfriend.

Beloved. That's how Tara had seen Amber.

It's almost comical to you how Tara had ever seen Amber in any context but fake and off-putting. Amber wasn't the kindest, the easiest to get along with, or even the most caring. You'd almost feel guilty for not speaking out about it earlier if it weren't for others who had also felt that way and kept quiet as well. You weren't exactly friends with their friend group, you had always felt yourself to be a side character.

Chad had always been all over Liv. They were cute, sure, but there was no need for that PDA. Mindy was constantly going on about different horror movies, as well as still somehow complaining about not having a girlfriend and not wanting to commit to one. Wes was caring and all, but he could also get annoying at times. He had been the only one in the friend group who had felt the off feeling about Amber. It seemed like he and Amber were always bumping heads about Tara.

When Wes died, and the news got out about Amber being the one behind the killings along with Sam's boyfriend, Richie, you knew why he had been killed. Amber felt like he was an obstacle—blocking her path to Tara, stopping her from moving forward with everything. But what frustrated her the most was how much he'd begun questioning her, noticing how strangely she’d been acting. You felt almost thankful for keeping your mouth shut about how you felt. It could have been you.

In all honesty, you and Tara had been close at one point. Back in elementary, you had always invited Tara over to your house after noticing how Tara would spend hours waiting for someone to pick her up after school. She'd sometimes mention how she'd be locked out of her house because her mother wasn't home. You had let her come over, you never minded it since the two of you were friends after all.

Looking back at it, knowing what you know now, it's a bit bittersweet. Knowing the only reason it would take a while for someone to pick up Tara was that she had to wait until Sam got out of school, then walk from her middle school to Tara's elementary school, and finally bring Tara home. The times that she would say she was locked out of the house were either her mother was off getting drunk anywhere she could or her mother would lock her out as a form of punishment.

The thought of you not being there for her earlier had always stung. What about the times that it was raining? Was Tara out in the rain alone? You could never bring yourself to ask her, careful not to bring something up that could take her back to that time. You two had stuck together since those days in elementary when she'd come over constantly. Middle school is when it had gotten a bit rocky, Amber had finally come into the picture.

Amber was new, and Tara had always been too kind and understanding for her good. One day of simply showing Amber around the school had turned into having lunches together or hanging out after school. Days when you'd hang out with them or even with Tara alone, you had always felt Amber's burning glare and jealousy, even from behind. You always ignored it though, being able to hang out with Tara was worth it.

It was around this time that you had begun to like Tara and not in a normal friendship platonic way. It was easy to fall for Tara, or so you thought so. She was pretty, inside and out. Her face had always perfectly reflected her beauty on the inside. You were sure that Amber somehow knew that you liked her because of the constant glares. Still, you ignored her because you knew Tara way before Amber had ever known her.

Ignoring, however, had made it worse even though you were trying to steer away from conflict. Amber didn't take you ignoring her lightly. She began finding excuses to take you and Tara's time away from you. Saying anything that would make sweet and naive Tara feel guilty for leaving Amber behind. Hangouts between you and her had become hangouts between the three of you. Then, slowly, Tara slipped away from your fingers and right into Amber's arms.

You tried not to dwell on it too much, as was expected, but it had hurt how it had seemed so easy for Tara to forget and replace you. You weren't angry with Tara, but you were bitter with Amber, yet you held your tongue for Tara's sake.When high school rolled around, rumors had gone around during freshman year that Amber and Tara had begun dating.

This had set you off; your friends hadn't heard the end of it for almost that entire school year. Everything that you see them do, you feel more bitter. That never stopped your feelings for Tara, though, they had only grown since Tara stayed her usual sweet self that had always swept you off your feet. Sophomore year, you spent your entire time busying yourself with your studies and soccer practice. You shut yourself away from hearing things about Tara and Amber's 'amazing' relationship.

That's when junior year rolled by, it seemed like you had some luck this year. You and Tara shared a math class, Algebra II, without a certain possessive girlfriend around to keep you away from Tara. You're sure that Amber noticed you two shared a class because Tara wasn't as talkative with you. Maybe you had grown apart? Or maybe Amber had told her to stay away from you? 

Senior year is when it all happened. It was hard to keep up with all the information that felt like it was being thrown at you. First, Tara's attack, then the following murders, Sam being back in town with her weird boyfriend, and Amber suddenly getting more controlling and possessive.

Tara, on the other hand, felt like she had been thrown into the eye of the tornado. She was both happy and bitter that her sister had returned after having no contact with her for so long. Just because she had gotten hurt, she returned? It sounded like bullshit to her, but a big part of her had missed Sam. 

Sam had been around to meet Amber, having left when Tara had been in 8th grade. She never liked Amber; she had always felt something was off about her, and no matter the countless times she told Tara that, Tara had always defended Amber. Upon seeing that Amber was still a part of Tara's life and now has a more important role than a friend, it irked her a bit. Amber had been bitter with Sam from the moment that she returned; maybe it was because of everything Tara had opened up to her about Sam, or maybe it was all a part of the act.

When it had been just Sam and Tara in the room, she had asked Tara where you had gone. "Whatever happened to her, I liked her." She had said. Tara had dismissed it with a small excuse, but hearing your name had tugged at her heart a bit, though she quickly ignored it. When Tara thought back to then, it made her feel stupid how she hadn't reached out to you sooner, but she knew that she was stuck in a position she couldn't leave. She was blinded by what she had thought was love with Amber. 

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Tara woke up on the couch in the apartment that she, Sam, and their roommate Quinn shared. Quinn was out, probably on some Tinder date that would end in her staying the night with her date. Sam had been working late shifts, still trying to afford both the apartment and now Tara's education as well. She awoke to the sound of a phone ringing, a small groan escaping her lips. 

She sat up on the couch, sighing before grabbing her phone off of the coffee table. She didn't care to check the contact name, she simply picked up the phone. All she had heard was a static noise, which caused her to furrow her eyebrows. A breathing noise was heard through the other end of the phone. Suddenly, the noise of the front door's knob jingling had caused her to be on high alert.

She felt herself retreat to the state she was never able to leave behind. Her hands shook as her heart began to pound, dropping her phone on the floor. A soft thump was heard as her phone fell onto the living room carpet. She completely froze, not knowing what to do and even if she had known, she was too paralyzed by fear to do it. 

Eventually, the door opened and she clasped her hand over her mouth, her other hand grabbing the remote from next to her on the couch. Felt tears beginning to prick from the corners of her eyes.

"Tara! Sam asked me to check up on you-" You had begun saying before you felt the remote hit you in the head to which your hand reflexively held where the remote hit you on the head. "Gah! What the-"

You felt your words die on your lips as you saw Tara in the state she was in. Her sigh of relief did not go unnoticed by you as you began putting two and two together that you had triggered her. Before you could say anything, you saw tears slip from her eyes and roll down her cheeks. You put down the bag of take-out that you had brought for her to eat onto the coffee table before rushing to her. Kneeling in front of her a waterfall of apologies escaped from your lips.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Tara, it's just me. I came to check up on you, Sam just wanted to make sure you were okay." You said as you leaned up, wrapping your arms around her. She quickly responded by wrapping her trembling arms around you.

Ever since attending Blackmore with Tara and her friend group, completely unplanned, you had gotten back into touch with her. You were one of the only 'outsiders' that she trusted with Tara to check up on her on nights like this. It would be considered a bit pathetic how you seemed at Tara's disposal. Everything she needed, you wanted to give her. 

So, for every message, call, and hang out, you'd immediately accept. Tara knew you liked her but she could never bring herself to be honest with herself about her feelings for you. She just knew it felt good to be cared for by you and to have your attention. All your actions were right, she just couldn't bring herself to trust to love someone and trust someone again.

The thought of a relationship was completely out of her mind until it came to you. This was quickly shaken away by her clouding thoughts of fear. She can't deny the pull to you, but she also cannot deny the thoughts that practically consumed her. Still, she continued to see you. She continued to call on you and be around you. She thought that the two of you had come to the understanding that things between the two of you were casual and light. 

Any time that you had begun to bring up wanting more than stolen kisses and secret cuddling, she'd quickly change the topic. You almost felt embarrassed for wanting to ask what you two were. Then again, you felt like it was better to have her this way than not at all.

"Are you okay?" You asked as you pulled away from the hug, your hands cupping her face to carefully examine her. Her tears had calmed, her breathing a little shaky and uneven, but she still had nodded.

"Yeah, I'm okay." She said with a small sniffle, "Just everything felt like... Never mind." 

"I'm sorry. I just came to check up and bring you something to eat." You said as you began peppering her face with soft and short kisses, trying to make her feel better and partially so she could forgive you. 

"You need to eat." You had added as you pulled away, tucking her bangs behind her ears as she nodded. Sending her a small, soft smile, you began to unpack the takeout for the both of you.

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

A/N: I'm going, to be honest, I did not expect to write so much. I had to cut it short because I was going to go on and on. I'm beginning to contemplate turning into a fic as well. The words sort of flowed out of me, and there definitely is a plot that I can build on. I hope you guys enjoyed this! Again, I am currently making the next part to 'Make it Right,' this was meant to be like a little filler to keep you guys entertained, and I started a whole new fic. I'm going to hope to finish the next part of 'Make it Right' and post it sometime tomorrow. Thank you all for reading, as well as for the support on my last post! Bye, lovelies!

[foxika]

surprised i haven’t see any fox lives aus exploring the idea of palpatine sending fox to hemlock/tantiss after getting his neck snapped Hemlock hesitates, staring through the glass window of the examination room and observing its main occupant. His medical staff fusses over their patient, a clone, as they record his vitals and situate the room for long term occupancy. "It is... Unlikely, that this clone will ever walk again, Your Majesty. The damage done to his neck is irreversible, that he even retained mobility in his torso is—" Hemlock had said. He was scrolling through a rather dire injury report. The Emperor waved his hand dismissively, black robes flowing with the motion. "I am aware, but what I require is not impossible. I will take care of the most severe damages to my commander..." My commander? Hemlock looked away from the datapad and to the immobile clone floating in the bacta tank. "...And when the time comes, I will require your facility to do the rest."

Hemlock refrained from frowning, keeping his expression neutral, albeit a bit dubious. If Emperor Palpatine wanted to waste his time with a lost cause, he wouldn't argue. Not as long as he continued to receive the necessary resources and further funding for his projects. Now, when Hemlock gazes upon that same clone all those months ago, he sits properly upright on the examination table, back straight and form perfect like a soldier. The clone turns his head, his golden eyes-a deviation from the standard brown, colour bordering unnatural in a human- meeting Hemlock's through the glass. Hemlock raises a brow in response but the clone doesn't react, only breaking eye contact when one of the medical aids calls for his attention. Folding his arms behind his back, Hemlock turns to stalk down the hall. He would never say it aloud, but he was irked that this... Chore was now his responsibility. He was a scientist! A progressive researcher and an invaluable asset to the Empire. That his facility is being forced to take on the task of physical therapy and rehabilitation, of all things, for one simple, damaged clone was insulting.

Hemlock exhales, forcing his posture to relax. His Imperial Majesty was making a mistake, clearly, but it was no matter. Hemlock would only need to check in occasionally; he could still focus his efforts where it really matters. His commander would be carefully monitored in the meantime, and maybe, Hemlock could learn how Palpatine managed to reverse what should have been a deathly injury. ♠♠♠♠

i imagine palpatine does ambiguous hand wave force healing to get fox back into tip top shape. well mostly back. fox still has a lot to work through. and then sends him off to wherever hemlock is, for reasons. he doesnt need hemlock's facility to host fox, he could easily give fox the care he needs closer to home. so maybe to have fox keep an eye on him and his progress, who knows really from there i kinda have a few paths this could take, one with omega eventually coming across fox, being mildly interested in him(he's not held in a cell like the rest of the clones, he's not a commando, why is he here?) and maybe later, nala se assigns her to him to keep her further out of the way of hemlock. all leading up to when omega and crosshair escape, she insists fox comes with them. fox doesnt want to (paranoid), crosshair doesnt want him to(also paranoid). think of the fox and rex reunion... the echo confrontation... the wolffe reunion... howzer bitching at both crosshair and fox... the drama of it all. another idea being fox meeting scorch again. since arca company barracks are stationed on coruscant, i imagine that fox has run into delta squad at least once. delta wasn't on coruscant often, and fox is busy guy. probably also doesn't care much for sobde either. (i imagine him and maze sending very petty emails to each other. fox saying "fuck you, i outrank you captain" in corporate)

and maybe when shit goes down on tantiss, he convinces scorch to dip with him. "you got your ass kicked, man. let's go."

throughout all of this fox maintains a creepy, unsettling presence on the base.