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satorusugurugurl · 11 hours ago

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Taste Me When He’s Kissing You

Summary: When Your roommate seemingly break up for a time, one of them decides to make a move.

Characters: Geto Suguru, AFAB!Reader, Gojo Satoru

Warnings: language, oral sex, making out (mxm), minions of threesomes, it’s hot!

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: Hi thank you all for your patience! My life has been so crazy the last few days! Lots of deliveries at the house lots of work at my job, I'm working on several different stories right now just trying to get them out in between not losing my mind! This is highly inspired by Sabrina Carpenter’s Taste!

Geto Suguru and his boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, were constantly on and off. As their roommate, you got to experience this firsthand. So, of course, when Gojo stormed out, slamming the door and telling Geto they were done, you watched curiously from the kitchen. Suguru sighed, dark hair falling over his shoulder as he pressed his forehead against the front door.

“Mm—“ you hummed, taking a bite of pineapple off your fork. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Heh, I guess you could say that.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he leaned over the counter opposite you, watching you take another bite of pineapple. “He said we should see other people.”

Suguru watched closely as your pretty tongue darted out past your lips to lick at the sweet juice coating them. “And how do you feel about that?” Your words were brushed aside as Suguru reached for the container, grabbing a chunk of the citrusy fruit. “Oi! That’s mine!” You scolded as you pulled your bowl away, pouting as you did.

“Oh ya’ know, Satoru will be back.” he licked his lips, eyes on yours. “But you know what else he said before he left?”

You snatched the pineapple back out of his hands. “What?” You honestly didn’t care what he had said.

“That he was going to ask you out.”

You inhaled sharply before going into a coughing fit. The Vitamin C stung your sinuses’ and the back of your throat as you harshly coughed into your hand with tears stinging your eyes. Gojo Satoru wanted to ask you out?! What that fuck?!

“L-Liar!” You shouted in between coughs. “You’re such a liar!”

“Nope, that’s the truth.” Suguru leaned over the counter closer to you. “But do you wanna know what I told him?”

This time, you avoided the pineapple altogether as you hummed. “What?” You took a deep breath before clearing your throat, waiting for him to continue.

“I told him, ‘Not if I beat you first’.”

You started to laugh, ready to call him out for the blatant lie. But as the sound began to rise in your chest, he reached across the counter and slammed his lips against yours. The sudden kiss, hands jerking slightly in his grasp, but the initial shock wore off, and you found yourself slowly sinking into the kiss. With a whimper, your hands reached up, resting against his before he broke the kiss with a deep guttural growl that had your pussy throbbing.

He hummed violet eyes, searching yours before focusing back on the pineapple. “Let’s put an old wise tale to the test, shall we?” Before you could even ask what he was talking about, he dragged you to the room.

Nothing could have prepared you for what was going to happen next.

You were coated in a thin layer of wear; your panties and sweats were still hooked around your ankle as your legs trembled. Suguru’s face was buried directly between your thighs, and his tongue was slowly running up and down over your lot. The tip is darting out teasing flicks towards your clit. The torturous licks were practically unavoidable, with Suguru’s large hands gripping your hips as tight as he could without hurting you, preventing you from always pulling from his skilled mouth.

You writhed against the sheets, crying out softly as he moaned against your sex, his pretty lavender eyes flicking towards your face as your breathing hitched. You were already close to cumming for the third time since he had settled between your thighs, and fucking hell, he wanted every drop you had to offer for him. So he continued his ministrations, eyes lingering on yours as he hummed, causing vibrations to tickle the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your toes curled inside your fuzzy socks while your fingers fisted into the sheets beneath you.

“Ohh fuck!” You cried out, chest heaving as your breast bounced ever so slightly under your shaky jerks. “Holy shit! S-Sugu! Sugu!” He hummed, digging his fingers harder into your sides while he slowly rolled his hips against the mattress. Grinding his hardened cock against the crisp material, longing to be buried inside of you.

“Mmmnm~” he whispered, eyes narrowing, “That’s it, be a good Princess and cum all over my tongue.” His voice was so deep and was over-saturated with lust, dripping to the point you could feel his desire in every caress of his skin against yours. “Cum for me, baby~ cum~ pretty girl.”

“I-I—!!” The warning failed before it even began. “Nngh!!” You screamed, not giving a fuck about your neighbors or who might be listening in. All that you could focus on was the way Suguru wrapped those soft lips around your clit.

Stars and the universe and the cosmos flashed before your eyes as your orgasm hit you like the meteor that took out the dinosaurs. You screamed and squirmed, thrashing your head side to side as the waves of pleasure rolled through every nerve in your entire body. Not once did Suguru let up. He kept licking and sucking at your sensitive pussy until you were practically yanking his head away from your aching, throbbing sex.

“H-Hold on a second!” You begged as he tried dipping his head back between your thighs for the fourth time. “Easy! Fuck, easy there, Sugu!”

“Can’t help it~ you taste so fucking sweet!” He snarled, dragging you back to his mouth. You brought both hands to his hair with a yelp, tangling it in his silky soft strands.

For just an instance, you were about to lose yourself in his touch and tongue again when the sound of someone clearing their throat filled the room. You automatically seized up, eyes wide in panic, clenching onto every muscle in your body. Suguru slowly licked his lips, turning his head to look over his shoulder at Satoru, leaning against the door frame, watching the scene unfold before him.

“Wow, talk about moving on fast.” His voice and words held no heat as his eyes opened up. You’re nearly naked form. “I guess I didn’t stand a chance against you, did I?”

“Nope.”

Suguru ducked his head back between your legs, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. “Oh fuck me!” You cried out, shutting your eyes tight, half an embarrassment while the other half was trying hard not to drown in the pleasure that was starting to build up in your abdomen again.

“Tsk—” the floorboards creek underweight as Satoru walks towards the edge of the bed, gently grabbing your chin and forcing your head to the side to look up at him. “I wanted to be the first one to taste you.” His eyes glance at his best friend and boyfriend, nestled firmly between your legs. “Just how do you intend to make it up to me? Seeing that he got to taste you first?”

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry as your eyes narrowed as you looked up at the white-haired man. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to taste me when he’s kissing you.” You said with a specific tone of confidence you didn’t know even lingered within your body.

Both men froze at your words; Suguru lifted his head, his chin and lips glistening with your slick. Satoru’s momentary shock slowly shifted into a sultry smirk as he released his group on your chin, focusing his attention on the dark-haired man looking at him. Satoru was kneeling, crawling to the center of the bed where you and Suguru were. He didn’t say a word as he grabbed a handful of Suguru’s hair, yanking it at the base of his roots.

“Nnmh!” Suguru hissed out, his cheeks flushing a dusty rose color as his eyes glimmered with lust as Satoru brought him close to his mouth. “Satoru~” Suguru purred as the taller man closed the distance between them.

“You heard her; if I wanna taste~ I’m gonna have to kiss you.”

Without another word, his lips slammed against Suguru’s in a heated kiss. One that was full of biting and moaning. Moans that were so deep and full of passion it was nearly pornographic. Suguru didn’t miss a beat. His hands grabbed Satoru’s shirt closer while Satoru’s fingers ran through the strands of the dark hair.

Tongues move against tongues, and you press your thighs together at the site of the men making out in front of you. They didn’t hold back. They were like two horny, crazed animals longing for each other, longing to share the taste of you against their tongues. It had between your legs, rubbing at your slow, lazy circles as Suguru tugged Satoru’s shirt over his head, throwing it across the room before his lips were on his again.

It was so erotic. Your cunt throbbed in need as they broke, kissing heavily lips, swollen as they pressed their foreheads against each other. And lilac eyes burning holes through the other growled, gripping each other with a mighty need. It was almost as if they had forgotten that you were in the room with the whimper of pleasure that rose in your throat as you felt yourself getting close to the edge.

“Awe.” Satoru hummed, reaching down and grabbing your hand to prevent you from tipping over the edge. “Not so fast, honey. I need to taste you directly because you taste as sweet as the pineapple you’re always snacking on.” He dropped between your legs, his mouth following the path of bite marks and hickeys that Suguru had left in his wake earlier.

“Oh, my fuckin’ f—“ You cried out, leaning your head back to rest it against the pillows only to have your hair yanked back up. “Mmmhm!”

A thick throbbing cock was right in front of your face. It was leaking beats of pre-cum, making your mouth water. “Come on, Princess. You can taste me while he tastes you.” You bit down on your bottom lip before nodding your head, opening your mouth to take him in.

You weren’t sure if this was what they had initially planned on doing or if they had indeed broken up. But what mattered the most was that this would be the beginning of your very long and very happy relationship together.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918 @draculemon

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pinkslipxox · 3 days ago

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Hey! I have a request. But please ignore this if you want to, I did see your last post saying how you have alot of requests at the moment! So please don't ever feel like you need to write this okay? Just something basic, pregnant reader is really struggling to fall asleep because baby girl won't stop kicking her mama. Billie wakes up and just rubs her belly and gives us reassurance. She even tries to make us laugh by having a "talk" with the baby telling her to stop hurting her mama or mommy's not gonna be happy. We find it hilarious. We end up falling asleep to billie spooning up and rubbing out stomach and gently rubbing the top of our head because she knows that helps us fall asleep.

- but thank you so so much for taking the time to read this. Once again, please don't write this if you don't want to! I love ya 🫶🏻

Hey there my love! Hope you like it! Thank you so much for your kindness and understanding 🥰

————————————————-——————————

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you feel your unborn daughter move about inside your womb. You’ve been trying so hard to fall asleep, but to no avail. Of course, it is always a joy and relief to you whenever you feel your baby kick, but it seems that she’s picked the worst part of the day— well, night in the case— to be active.

You carefully sit yourself up straighter, breathing slowly in and out just as your doctor had suggested a few days ago, praying that you don’t wake up your sleeping wife. Despite knowing that Billie wouldn’t mind if you woke her up, you feel bad at the thought of doing so. She’s been working so hard when it comes to balancing work and taking care of you, and you know that she needs her rest as much as you do.

“Please let Mama sleep,” you murmur softly as you run your belly in attempt to calm your daughter. Just then, you feel a hand touch your shoulder. Your wife has woken up.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Billie asks, her voice groggy yet full of concern.

“She won’t stop kicking, Billie,” you whimper, wincing as you feel another strong kick. “And it hurts. All I want to do is sleep.”

“How can I help, my love?” Billie offers as she gently rubs your swollen belly.

“Can you please get another pillow for my back?” you request and Billie nods.

“Yes, of course,” she replies and kisses your forehead before hurrying off to find the pillow. She comes back a moment later and helps you lean forward so that she can put the pillow behind your back.

“Thank you, my love,” you sigh, reveling in the small amount of relief.

“You’re welcome.” Billie rubs your baby bump, her ocean blue eyes looking into yours with such tenderness and love. “I know it’s hard, sweetheart. You’re doing such an amazing job. Soon we’ll have our little girl, and she’s going to be just as beautiful as you.”

“Oh, Billie,” you murmur, tears swelling in your eyes. “You’re the sweetest.”

“Only for my girls,” Billie chuckles softly before pressing a kiss to your belly. “Damn, she’s having a party in there!”

“Of course— she’s your daughter, after all,” you tease with a smirk and Billie sticks her tongue out playfully at you.

“Hmm, I wonder…” Billie muses with a playful gleam in her eyes. She then makes a fist with her hand and taps on the imaginary microphone in her hand. “Hello? Is this thing on? Can you hear Mommy, baby girl?”

You can’t help but stifle a laugh. Then, at the feel of your daughter kicking her again, you tell her, “She can hear you loud and clear, Bills.”

“Now, baby girl,” Billie begins in a mock-stern voice. “Listen to Mommy. I know how much you think it’s fun to kick your mama like she’s a soccer ball but she needs her rest. And if you don’t stop kicking her by the time I count to three…”

“Billie, oh my God,” you laugh out loud, shaking your head fondly at your wife.

“One… two… three,” Billie counts and the two f you hold your breath.

“I think… it worked,” you breathe in awe and Billie smirks.

“Guess we know who’s her favorite mother,” your wife teases and you gasp, feigning hurt.

“After all I do for you…” you tisk, running your belly. You then smile at Billie. “Thank you for helping, my love. And I’m sorry that I woke you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. We’re in this together,” Billie reassures you and brings your hand up to her lips, kissing it.

“Cuddle us?” you request with a pout and Billie nods with a smile.

Billie helps you lay back down on the bed and once you are comfortable, she cuddles up from behind you, your back pressed against her chest. She wraps her arm under your bump, her thumb gently caressing there, and kisses your temple. You slowly begin to relax under her touch, her fingers gently massaging your scalp just the way you like it.

“Good night, my baby girls,” Billie murmurs softly, and your heart swells.

“Good night, Billie,” you hum as you close your eyes, grateful to have your wife right by your side, no matter what time of day or night.

#billie eilish #billie eilish x pregnant!reader #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish blurb #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish imagine

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 days ago

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Always Time for You

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: After you move to Los Angeles to escape an abusive relationship, you meet Deacon Kay and fall in love. When your ex arrives in Los Angeles, you have to tell someone, but don't want to worry Deacon.

Warnings: former abusive relationship, depictions of domestic violence, abuse, angst, fluff and comfort (none of the SWAT men do anything abusive, it's an ex!)

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The trip across the country is long and slow, each day spent holding your bruised cheek out of view and looking over your shoulder. You promise not to let your guard down when you finally reach Los Angeles. Surrounded by high rises and over 4 million people to blend in with, it would be easy to think you’re safe. But you know better.

Your little apartment in a quiet corner miles from downtown is nice, if not lonely. As you create a new life, you’re unbothered by the solitude, too concerned with being safe than having friends.

And then, in a moment, all of it changes.

1 Year Later

“Excuse me,” someone says behind you.

You flinch when a gloved hand raises beside you, then step out of the way and apologize to the officer. He nods once, then joins his team on the other side of the road. The police presence in your neighborhood today is too familiar. The last time you saw this many cops in one place. It was because you called them, and they barely made it in time.

Another approaching siren pulls you from your memory, and you step back from the curb. Something stops you, a feeling that going home would not be the right choice.

One of the SWAT officers looks at you and points in your direction. You freeze, remembering the officer who asked Well, did you tell him to stop? You provoked him; you shouldn’t do that if you already know what he’s like. When you look up again, two officers are walking toward you. Chewing the inside of your bottom lip, you hope they’ll walk past you.

“Hi, I’m Sergeant Deacon Kay, LAPD SWAT,” the officer who walked past you earlier says. “Do you live around here?”

“I do,” you answer softly.

“Would you mind answering a few questions?” the other officer, whose nametag says Street, asks.

“Sure,” you agree. “If I can.”

Deacon pulls a picture from his pocket, a folded piece of paper that he straightens before asking, “Have you seen this car around here?”

You lean closer, fighting against your memories, and answer, “I saw it last night. It sat across the street with its lights on from around 8 until midnight.”

“What made you notice it?” Street asks.

“The lights,” you explain. “When it turned, they lit up my living room, then didn’t go off.”

“Left around midnight, you said?” Deacon clarifies. You nod, and he points east to ask, “That way?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thanks for your help.”

They step back, and you ask, “Um, is it safe? Will he be back or is there anything I should be worried about?”

Deacon smiles and assures, “It’s safe. We’re going to get him.”

As he joins Street to return to Black Betty, Street asks, “We don’t know that; we’ve been looking for two days.”

“And we’ll find him today.”

The next night, someone knocks on your door, and you tiptoe across the room to look through the peephole. When you see Sergeant Deacon Kay, you open the door but hold it as you look at him.

“Hi,” he greets. “I just wanted to let you know we caught him.”

You sigh and whisper your gratitude.

“And… I came to ask you out.”

Smiling, you nod, and for once, you don’t think about your last relationship and let yourself hope for something new, something better.

1 Year Later

“Good morning,” you greet as you answer the phone.

“It is now,” Deacon replies. “How are you?”

“I’m better now.”

You open the door to leave for work but stop when you see a package on your doormat. Deacon says something, but the words across the top of the box are familiar, too familiar. You squat to see it better; the We’re back note is split by the box pulling open. You lift the flap with one finger and see a rope curled tightly inside, with two knots to form hand restraints. You jerk backward, falling onto the floor as you scramble from the box. Your phone hits the floor, and Deacon yells as you reach for it.

“Hey,” you breathe, staring at the box. “I’m okay, sorry, I got startled and dropped my phone.”

“Everything okay?” Deacon asks.

“Yes,” you lie. “Everything is fine.”

“Then I’ll see you tonight. Have a good day.”

“You, too.”

When you reach your car, a pack of matches is tucked under the windshield wipers, and you throw them into the backseat before slamming the door closed and locking it. Someone is close, and the fear you thought you’d left behind hits you like a train when you realize who it is.

Deacon knocks on your door an hour before your date, but he’s still in his uniform.

“I’m so sorry,” he begins. “I have to work overtime, for- for a while. I’m not sure when I’ll have time to make it up to you, but I will. I promise I will.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “Be safe and call me when you can.”

Deacon leans in, ignorant of how your muscles tense before he touches you. He kisses your cheek, whispers another apology, and leaves. As he drives away, you see a knife tucked behind the plant by your door. Rather than spend the extra time with the door open to look at it, you close and lock it. Your breaths grow heavy as your chest tightens, but you have no proof that he’s nearby. You can’t tell the police, and Deacon will get stressed with overtime, so you have to wait for this to pass on its own.

The following week, almost ten days after the first box arrived, you call in sick to work. Sitting in your living room, you watch the front window. You can see your porch and car. By noon, you haven’t seen anyone. Slowly, you open the door, and there’s a boxing glove on the first step, with what looks like dried blood across where the wearer’s knuckles would be. You feel a pressure building in your eyes and know that the terror you experience will kill you from the inside if you don’t tell someone or do something.

“Where are you?” you whisper brokenly, looking across the street but seeing nothing.

Your car catches your attention, a baseball bat propped against the back door, and a spray-painted X marking your door. You know the paint will draw attention, so you find a sponge and car wash in your storage closet before you hesitate at the door. If he was close enough to do this without being seen, he’s close enough to do something to you.

You set the cleaning supplies down and take your phone from your pocket. Scrolling past Deacon’s contact, you text someone else and then sit by the door, staring out the window as you wait for him to arrive.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” Luca asks when he sees your blotchy cheeks and blood on your palms, crescent-shaped marks created by digging your nails into your palm.

“He’s here,” you confide in him, struggling to breathe evenly. “Luca, he’s so close.”

“Who?” Luca asks, taking your wrists and looking into your eyes. “Who is he?”

“My ex, he- he hurt me, Luca, and now he’s here. There’s been knives, matches, rope… he keeps leaving stuff he used to use.”

“Use?” Luca repeats, his voice dropping. “To… to hurt you?”

You nod, then press against his forearms to plead, “You can’t tell Deacon. He’s so stressed with the overtime; I haven’t even talked to him in a week.”

“He needs to know.”

“No, no, Luca, promise that you won’t tell him. I’ll tell you if anything changes or if I actually see him, but I had to tell somebody.”

Luca hesitates, then nods. “Have you seen anything?”

“No,” you admit, dropping your head as a tear rolls over your cheek. “Just the stuff. And the notes… they sound like him, but they don’t look like his handwriting. What am I supposed to do, Luca?”

Luca shakes his head and pulls you into a hug. It’s not the same comfort you can get from Deacon. The realization that you can’t do anything until he’s close enough to see increases your terror to let you finally cry.

Three days after confiding in Luca and thanking him with dinner for cleaning your car, you decide to visit Deacon at the station. You must see him, so you steel your nerves and open the front door. A small pile of weapons and notes is built against your door, and it topples as you step out. You rush to your car and don’t take the time to remove anything from the windshield until you stop at a gas station a block from the station. Shoving the notes, matches, and short length of heavy chain into the trashcan without more than a glance, you hope that Deacon has time to talk. You won’t tell him anything, but you will ask for one of his hugs that make everything better.

As you round your trunk, a truck speeds in behind you. Suddenly, your arms are gripped tightly, and someone pulls you back quickly. Someone else pulls black fabric over your head, and you are shoved into the back of a car before you can think to scream.

“Not a word,” a man says, pushing a cold gun barrel against your ribs.

“We’ll do it,” Deacon offers. “Luca and I can drive by the residence in an unmarked car and bring back a report of what we can see.”

“Do it,” Hicks replies. “Go the long way around, check gas stations and restaurants in the area, too. We need to find her.”

Deacon leads Luca to his unmarked Charger, and Deacon takes the driver’s seat. As they drive toward the suspect’s residence, Deacon stops at a red light beside a gas station.

“Isn’t that your girlfriend’s car?” Luca asks, pointing to a gas pump.

Deacon’s brow furrows as he puts the car into reverse and backs into the station lot. He parks behind your vehicle, and he and Luca walk alongside it, then look over the top at each other.

“I’ll check inside,” Luca offers as Deacon dials your number.

“Thanks,” Deacon replies.

Your phone goes to voicemail, and Deacon looks down in time to see the screen light up in the center console. Luca runs out of the convenience store and calls, “Deac, get in here!”

Deacon runs into the store, and Luca asks the employee to play the security footage again. They watch as three men take you, and Luca takes a shaky breath before he says, “Deacon, there’s something you should know.”

“Time to go home,” one of the men in the car coos.

You stiffen, scared that by home he means they’ll hand you over to your ex. The car lurches to a stop, and you slam into the back of the seat before two sets of hands steady you.

“Well, look who it is.”

Shifting, you try to block out your ex’s voice, but knowing he can see you while you can’t see him makes your heart race and your chest tighten painfully. When he slips his hand under your fabric hood and runs his fingers along your jaw, you jerk backward. The man beside you shoves you forward so your hood can be ripped off.

“Don’t do that again,” your ex demands lowly, holding your jaw tightly.

You look around, hoping to see someone else around who can help you.

“You know the police couldn’t help before.”

“We did what you asked,” the man driving says.

“And? You’ll get paid when I pay you.”

With the distraction, you lean away from your ex. He slides his fingers into your hair when he notices the distance, pulling you forward by the roots. You gasp at the pain, but when you’re shoved out of the car and fall at his feet, suddenly, you’re the same scared girl you were before you ran. There is no escape, and no one knows to look for you.

“Gas pedal is on the right, Street!” Deacon yells from the backseat.

“We’ll get there,” Street promises, remaining patient even as he faces Deacon’s anger and fear. “We need the surprise.”

Deacon’s leg bounces as they approach the tradeoff spot in the note they found from your ex to the men who snatched you at the gas station. Your safety is the priority, but Deacon knows Hondo is worried about what he’ll do to your ex.

“I’m getting her out of there,” Deacon says. “You focus on the criminals stupid enough to email each other with their plans.”

“You got it,” Hondo responds. “Stay liquid.”

As they pull into the parking lot, Street parks by a fence where they can see the black SUV from the gas station and a grey Chevelle beside it. Street exits the driver’s seat in his civilian clothes and waves to the man standing at the back of the SUV.

“Hey, man! I’m trying to get to the road with the stars, uh, Walk of Fame or something? This city is so confusing, can you tell me where to go?” Street calls.

“Yeah,” the man replies, turning so Street can see him. “Away from here.”

Someone groans, and Street says, “Yeah, sure. You okay?”

“Better than you’ll be if you don’t go.”

Street puts his hands up, then smiles. “You’re not very observant.”

Luca and Hondo approach the car from the other side with their guns raised. As they yell commands, three men surrender and move to the side, but your ex remains beside you.

“Step back,” Street demands, moving directly behind him. “These guys have a bet going on how quickly I’ll get impatient today. I’m thinking about letting one of them win. Walk toward my voice.”

“You always were treated like you’re more important than you are,” your ex tells you. “Same cop,” he muses, looking at Luca. “No one wants you.”

“Yep, I’m impatient,” Street decides. He holsters his gun, grabs his collar, and hauls him backward.

As your ex hits the concrete, he begins fighting, so Street drags him across the rocky surface while Deacon rushes to your side. You hear Hondo radioing for backup but focus on Deacon as he kneels beside you.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You nod and sit up carefully. Leaning against Deacon, you hug him tightly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Deacon asks softly, brushing his thumb over a bruise on your jaw.

“You were already working overtime, and honestly… I thought I was going crazy,” you admit. “He was leaving stuff and notes, but I never saw him, so I didn’t know.”

“Babe, I always have time for you,” Deacon assures you. He kisses your forehead and adds, “Especially if you’re in danger.”

“He… I moved to LA because of him,” you whisper. “He hurt me. A lot.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you had to deal with all of this alone, but you can tell me. Please tell me.”

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“I love you.”

“I love you. I miss you.”

“I’m done with overtime; I’m coming home with you.”

You don’t argue, giving in to your craving for Deacon’s safety and comfort. He’ll always be with you, have time for you, and love you through everything and with all of your scars.

#david deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay x reader #deacon kay fluff #deacon kay #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯#swat fic #swat cbs #swat x reader

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wtfdemother · 2 days ago

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Does anyone recall Eldritch!König?

I personally miss him NSFW below, happy kinkvember day 10 ☃️🤝

post dividers by tsunami-of-tears

CW: mild bondage, tentacles, some rough handling, mild dub-con and invasion of privacy

Eldritch!König X Witch!Reader

Eldritch!König who on one of your drunken stupors, tried to summon on a bitter winter night. You succeeded to your bewilderment, the earlier booze mixed in with self pity had you convinced the spell wouldn’t work, but by some intervention from the great beyond, you managed to perfectly scribble all runes required to summon him. In chalk, no less, finally somebody who didn’t fall for the old wives tail of using virgin’s blood. He’s here, you crumple to the floor.

Eldritch!König who you immediately regret disturbing on such late notice, fear consumes you whole. You scramble on cold tiles, pushing back with your feet until your back hits something solid. Your bed. You’re scared, and you’re so screwed. You feel as if your heart was about ready to burst from your rib cage, your breath constricted, what was once a well respected witch had turned into the equivalent of a deer caught in headlights. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Ô Great One…”

Eldritch!König who pities your trembling form, a hard working witch far too overworked had made the simple mistake of summoning him for an ill cause. Curiosity, he’ll never understand it. He tsks, the click loud enough to reverberate off the walls. It sends chills crawling down your spine, already more than the two black holes peering behind his veil, highlighted by streaks of red below the cuts. He stood tall, menacing, slowly he closes the gap between you two. Dark, hulking tentacles pool at his feet, he takes a step closer, out from the chalky circle.

Eldritch!König who hasn’t encountered such a careless little thing with so much potential wasted away, he senses you oftentimes get in your own way. He thinks a lesson is in order, curling one of his many extremities around your ankle. He yanks your body forward, sliding you right under him. Your heart’s in your throat, tears blur your vision, burning. He whispers something foreign, a language you don’t understand but it lulls you, pulling you into a false sense of security. He hushes your cries, you full heartedly believe that this is it, his presence overwhelmed your mind and soul, causing all rationality to fizzle into nothing. He doesn’t know how to convince that he’s not mad, little witch, just disappointed.

Eldritch!König who binds a heavy tentacle around your wrists, the grip tight enough to hold you in place while he slips a slimmer one into your mouth. He kept the one on your ankle steady, carefully the slimy sounds of his fleshy extremities make it around your waist. You can feel the smaller tentacle inspect each individual tooth, each sucker digging into your skin and inner cheek like odd kisses. “You… didn’t brush your teeth.” He finally says, assessing the damages done to your enamel before slipping the tentacle out of your warm orifice with a pop. “When was the last time you even took care of yourself, kleine?”

Eldritch!König whose voice was higher than anticipated, kinder, like he genuinely wanted to engage with you. It leaves you feeling puzzled, your mind clashing with the need to flee and his none threatening guise. “Let me take care of you,” he utters into your ear, already sliding an appendage up your shirt. “We will discuss how you behave with yourself in the morning…” A deep rumble emits from his chest, an approving hum as he circles your breasts, squeezing at the ample flesh. His suckers begin to trail perfectly round hickeys on your skin, you are too afraid to move, afraid of upsetting him or setting him off.

Eldritch!König who catches your discomfort, “My word is my bond,” he mutters against your skin, kissing your forehead over the veil. “Let me take care of you.” You nod with a shuddering breath, he wipes the remainder of your tears away. “There we go… focus.” He tweaks your nipples with his suckers, slipping more appendages down your thighs and into your panties. Slowly, he works you open, the slime of his tentacles already acting as lubricant as he pries your pussy lips apart. You writhe under his touch, feeling the tip of a tentacle swipe up from your hole to your clit. You inhale a sharp gasp, a sucker had latched onto your swelling nub. Gently he circles it, you can feel even the smallest of his slithering limbs work their way inside your velvety walls, brushing against your cervix.

Eldritch!König who chuckles almost condescendingly at your eager wetness. “Du bist so nass, kleine. So eng…” He cooes, “Shhh… I know, I know how it feels, I know…” But it only serves to edge you more. He doesn’t swallow your cries, rather letting you whine and squirm from the feel of his tentacles, the pop! pop! pop! of his suckers reminding you of the marks he placed on your body. You buck your hips to the delicate rhythm of his tentacles pumping slowly out of your pussy, the sucker only doing so much to stimulate your throbbing clit. You hiccup from a frustrated sob, “Please… Great One…” Like honey to his ears he relishes in your begs, he will not be a cruel being to such a precious thing, relief floods your burning core as he picks up the pace.

Eldritch!König who hoists you up in the air, wrapping his limbs tightly around your thighs and wrists anew. He suspends you above your own bed, leaving you stunned and confused from the sudden emptiness. He leaves your cunt exposed to the cold air, tentacles roughly dig into your tits while he teases your hole. You throw your head back and your toes curl at the fullness of a larger tentacle, he fucks you with the bigger appendage with reckless abandon. “Are you going to stop neglecting yourself?” He grunts between sloppy thrusts, sliding the glistening member in and out of your drenched cunt. You nod absentmindedly, agreeing to anything as long as he lets you come already. “You gonna take up a healthy routine in the morning, witch?” He probs at the swollen bud, waiting for a reply. “Yes, yes, yes!” You chant, babbling promises about never putting yourself on the back burner anymore with tears in your eyes.

Eldritch!König who makes you come on his command, keeping your legs wide open and your arms bound as you come undone under the slimy mass of his tentacles. He gently sets you down on the bed after the high comes down, the same tentacles who’d fucked you earlier are now tucking you in. He swiped a loose strand from your forehead, “You did so well… rest, you need your strength for tomorrow.” You fall into a dreamless sleep, spent from everything. In the morning, he’s there to greet you to your pleasant surprise. The bruises peppered along your body are now more prominent in the light, you never thought a summoned being could look so bashful and sheepish from his own actions. You start the day early, he makes sure of that, hovering over your shoulder as you pad bare foot to the bathroom. “Don’t pull that look, miss grump. Go brush your teeth and I’ll make you breakfast.”

And that’s how you landed yourself an eldritch partner. You prefer not to look a gifted horse in the mouth, although sometimes you catch yourself wanting to return him. The man’s insufferable about his routines. You love him.

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peterman-spideyparker · 3 days ago

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The Great War (Babe Part 2) (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! At the risk of forgetting to post part two, I'm doing it now! Like I mentioned in the first post, it's only a part two if you want it to be--you can just have read Babe and leave it at that, but this is just more idea to go with it that I couldn't stop my brain from working on. Enjoy! :)

Summary: It's been almost a month since you left Matt. Everything hurts, and you're doing what you can to get through. Foggy calls, and it turns out Matt's not doing much better. For the first time, you have no idea what your future with Matt Murdock looks like.

Listening rec: The Great War by Taylor Swift

Warnings: ANGST, Matt and reader are separated (Matt cheated), they’re both heartbroken at the situation, swearing, fighting/shouting/anger, throwing, Matt grabs reader (NO VIOLENCE, but the Devil of Hell's Kitchen pokes out), depression (mention of the word "borderline suicidal" in reference to season three Matt), Matt being reckless, lots of crying, drinking

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 2,820

Before you can even say a feeble hello, Foggy is already speaking. “Matt’s devastated,” he breathes.

You’re hurt. Offended, even. You left because of what he did in California, and he has the audacity to feel sorry for himself? “And I’m not?” you say, probably with more venom than appropriate. “Goodbye, Foggy.”

“Wait, hold on!” You don’t know why you don’t hang up, but you stay on the line. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the right way to start this. How have you been?”

“I’m awful, Foggy. My marriage is done, my heart hurts, I’ve lost the man I love . . . I’ve never been worse.”

“(Y/N) . . . I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Fog. All this is between me and Matt. It’s why you called, I’m guessing? Get all the answers for what exactly happened between us?”

“That’s between you guys. It’s none of my business or anyone’s. I’ve already ripped Matt a new one for doing what he did, and so did Karen and Frank, but he’s . . .” He stops and lets out a sigh. “Do you remember hearing from Maggie what Matt was like after Midland Circle? Despondent, depressed, borderline suicidal?”

Of course you remember, how could you ever forget? You’ve never seen him like that in your life. But the term “borderline suicidal” makes a pit grow in your stomach as you straighten up.

“He hasn’t tried to—?” you start to ask.

“No, no, that was shitty wording on my part. But Matt’s not himself. It’s like watching a hollow corpse with a temper move about. He either doesn’t care at all, or a little thing will set him off. He’s being reckless on patrol, he’s drinking more than he usually does. I’ve been covering for him at the office, but . . . You need to talk to him.”

You close your eyes, tears rolling down your cheek. “I can’t, Foggy.”

“(Y/N)—.”

“He broke my heart, and I broke his in return. I stomped on it. I love him and I hurt him. If I talked to him . . . That’s salt on the wound for both of us.” More tears stream down your face as you think about it. “We both vowed not to hurt one another. H-He hurt me, but he wanted to fix it. I hurt him and don’t have that same courage to try.”

“Try now,” Foggy pleads. “Try now, help one another. Even if it’s for the last time.”

“O-Okay,” you say before you can realize it.

Foggy breathes a sign of relief. “Come to the loft.”

The loft. The scene of the crime.

You breathe a quiet confirmation before you hang up, taking time to mentally prepare yourself before you grab your purse and leave your sister’s place to talk Matt off whatever ledge he’s currently perched on.

It’s a short trip, and Foggy meets you in the lobby of Matt’s building. He pulls you in for a long hug, and you actively tell yourself not to cry.

“He’s that bad, huh?” you sniffle.

“Yeah,” Foggy sighs. “I’ve never been for him like this before. It’s like he’s not the same person.”

“I know what you mean,” you say quietly. “I haven’t felt like myself since that day.”

Foggy looks at you with a crestfallen expression, and you give him one more hug before you make your way up to the loft.

Your key still works—you’re afraid if you knock, he won’t let you in. Hell, he probably heard you turn the block on your way here and wouldn’t answer out of anger or annoyance. Your stomach churns when you see Matt sitting in the chair. He’s in sweats, his posture is curved, his hair is disheveled, and he’s growing a thick beard. Beer bottles are on the table in front of him mixed with trash.

“Matt?” you breathe, but he remains unmoved. As you move closer toward him, he sits there like a statue, not caring to look your way. “Matt, it’s me.” Still, he doesn’t gaze your way.

Putting your purse in its usual spot, you make your way over to him in the chair, gently cupping his face in your hands to tilt him up toward you. You suck in a small breath when you see the bruises and cuts on his cheeks, nose, and chin. If this is what his face looks like, you can only imagine the other injuries that his clothes are hiding.

“Matt,” you breathe. “What happened?”

He just closes his eyes in shame, starting to turn. You don’t let him, though, bringing his face back to center.

“Matty,” you plea. “Matt, talk to me, sweetheart.”

“You’re not my sweetheart anymore,” he finally says, and it burns like acid. You deserve it—you gave it just as good to him when he came back from California. “And I’m not yours.”

“We didn’t sign any papers yet,” you breathe, trying to lighten the mood as you hold back your own tears. “So, legally, I am.”

Matt peels back from my touch like he’s getting out of an itchy sweater. Okay, you deserve it. You deserve all of it.

“Matt—.”

“You left,” he spits. “You left just like everyone else, even when you swore you wouldn’t.”

You sit back on your heels. It hurts, but it’s the truth. “I did.” He turns back toward you like he’s shocked you actually admitted it. “I didn’t try to hear you out, and I’m sorry. I should’ve. It was . . .”

He turns toward you, ice in his blind gaze. You’ve never seen Matt like, this, and as he starts to slowly rise from his chair, it’s the first time you can say that you’ve ever been afraid of him.

You spring to your feet as well, trying to at least keep things on the same level posture wise.

“Now you’re trying to make things better?” he growls low. “You’re the one that tore it up in front of us. I wanted to stop the breakage, but you readied the wrecking ball. This shit is your mess. It’s like this because of you.”

Now you start to get mad. “Oh, just me? Any breakage that was the breakage that you started. Those images and videos were circulating for two whole days before you came home. I didn’t hear a single word from you—a ‘good morning’ or ‘I’m boarding my plane’ or otherwise. You just showed up here expecting it to all be fine—.”

“You don’t get to assume in this,” he grits, the space between you dangerously nonexistent as one of his hands tightly grab on to your wrist.

“Yes, I can. There’s two people in this mess. I’m saying what it seemed like on my end,” you say, your heart thundering in your chest. Matt wouldn’t hurt you—he’d never do that. But with how his hand is on your arm and the mood he seems to have been in since you left, you’re not entirely confident in that statement anymore.

“You never really knew a damn thing about me, did you?” he frowns. “You just kept a version of Matt Murdock in your head and lived with it this entire time, huh?”

“Maybe I did. Because this isn’t the Matt Murdock I came over to talk to. This is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. So, if you’re gonna let the Devil out, let him out on me, Murdock. Do your worst.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” he threatens, the muscle in his jaw feathering as he clenches his teeth.

“No. I came here to talk, and that’s what we’re gonna—.”

Before you know it, his hand is off your wrist, wrapping around the neck of a beer bottle before he whizzes it past your head like a threat. You flinch, moving to cover your head before the bottle leaves his hand, and you remain curled as the glass hits something behind you, knocking it over as they both crash to the ground. You slowly turn to see what was caught in the crosshairs—the beer bottle had hit a picture frame, knocking it down off the side table and breaking it. You can tell by the shifts in his body language he immediately regrets it, his shoulders slumping as tears start to sting your eyes. You notice he starts to take a step toward you out of the corner of your eye, but you’re on the move toward the broken picture frame. One of the pictures from our wedding.

Huh, you think. How fitting.

You lower yourself to your knees, carefully picking it up and looking at how your faces were beaming with nothing but joy, how you held onto one another with love . . . and now how it’s the opposite. How you’re broken. You wouldn’t look at him the day you left, and he won’t look at you know. You curl over the photo, freely weeping on the pile of glass. You just want it things to go back to normal.

You hear Matt pad softly over to you, squatting as if he wants to put a hand on your back to soothe you, but he backs away to let you cry. Tears pour out of you like a geyser, a constant flow down your cheeks as you sit alone in the living room. Maybe it was an accident that he hit the picture, but his senses are so sharp . . . maybe he did want to hit it. Maybe he was trying to prove a point. Maybe he wanted to show you that by you leaving, you were the one who put the final nail in the coffin of your marriage.

Maybe he really doesn’t want you anymore. Maybe he stopped wanting you before he went to Los Angeles. Maybe he stopped wanting you a long time ago.

You’re still crying when you hear Matt come back over toward you. Through your limited vision, you watch him clean up the broken glass from the bottle and the frame. It takes him a few trips, but it’s eventually all cleaned up. He leaves again before walking back toward you, holding out a box of tissues. With a shaking hand, you grab one and wipe at your nose, desperately trying to calm yourself.

“This is my favorite picture of us from our wedding,” you sniffle. “This is what I would grab if I could only take one thing from the loft in an emergency. This would be it. And now . . .”

You can’t finish your sentence, just weeping uncontrollably in your little ball on the floor over your two deepest treasures—this photo and your marriage. Shattered.

“Angel . . .” Matt says so softly, so tenderly, you almost forget that your life has essentially imploded.

“This is all my fault,” you cry, spiraling, trying to trace it all back to you, your actions. The big explosive things all seem to have their root in something you can place back to yourself. Matt slept with someone else, but it goes back to something you did— you had a short attention span and a bit of a short fuse before he left because a bunch of shit at work that kept piling up, and you knew he was frustrated . . . how much he hates planes. You egged him on. You did nothing to help, and when he left to go to California, he found someone who understood him in a way you couldn’t. You need an answer for this, and that seems to be it.

“This is my favorite picture of us, and it’s all my fault,” you sniffle, repeating what you said earlier, your chest burning from the tears and hyperventilation.

“It’s just a picture—,” he starts to say softly.

“It’s not just a picture,” you weep. “This, us, it’s all my fault. We’re broken because of me. This is all my fault.”

You hear Matt pad softly over to you, squatting down and taking the picture from your hands, putting it on the arm of a nearby chair before pulling you in for a hug. All you can do is sob against his shoulder as he holds onto you.

“This isn’t because of you,” he tries to soothe, sounding like he’s about to cry as well. “It . . . It was my poor judgement, it was my shortcomings that did this. You’re in the flaming wreckage, and it’s not fair.”

“I just want things how they were,” you sniffle. “I want to come home. I want us to be okay.”

Matt’s silence is terrifying. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt rage like that. Darkness like that,” he says softly. You feel a tear fall from his cheek to the top of you head. “Shit, I grabbed you . . . Fuck, I’m so sorry. I-I would never—(Y/N), please—.”

“I . . . I,” you start. He’d never hurt you. For all his anger, for all his strength, Matt would never hurt you. But when you’re facing off with the man that patrols the streets? The man that brought down Wilson Fisk not once, but twice? You just didn't know.

“I scared you.” Tears are flowing down his cheek. “I could hear your heart race . . . I knew you were scared and for a moment, and I didn’t care. It’s like I wanted you to be scared, and I liked it. I was glad you were scared of me.” He sounds disgusted with himself. “You really thought I was going to hit you.”

“I did. For a moment,” you admit. It catches in your throat, but there’s no use in lying if you’re trying to fix this.

Is that what you came over to do? To fix this?

He lets out a long breath, slumping to the floor. “What happened to us?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” you say. And it’s the truth. You don’t really know how you got to this point. Yes, you know why you walked out, but it’s like there were the small hairline fractures in glass—so fine that you couldn’t see them—and then a hammer came down on it and a million little pieces was left in its wake. But how he sounds . . . you know that tone. When it’s been a rough night on patrol, it coats his words like sap—he’s going into a dark headspace, and when he gets too far in, it’s hard to get him out, and you need to get him out. You move around to carefully sit next to Matt, putting a hand on his forearm. You can feel a thick bandage on his arm before you can process that he winces, so you move to slide your hand in his.

“I know you’d never hurt me,” you breathe. “I know you’d never lay a hand on me like that.”

“But I did, though. If I added more pressure, I could’ve snapped your worst. It would have been easy for me to do.” You see him swallow the lump forming in his throat, his own self-hatred inflating at a dangerous rate. “I was full of rage. You were scared of me.”

“I’m scared of all of this,” you admit, your voice small. “What’s happening to us. How it’s effecting you and me. We’re . . . We’re not ourselves. I-I don’t recognize either of us. I don’t like it. I want things back how they were.”

“But they can’t go back.” He sounds broken, hollow—just how you feel.

“Are . . . Are we too far gone?” you ask just above a whisper, terrified of the answer.

“I don’t want us to be.”

You hang your head. “I haven’t been sleeping,” you admit. “It doesn’t feel right without you, your arms around me.”

He places a gently hand on your chin, lifting your face up and wiping tears off of your cheeks before pulling you in for a hug. It feels like warmth. Like love. “I can’t sleep in the bed. It smells like you, and with you gone . . . I just patrol all night.”

It’s like when you think your heart can’t break any more, it does. “I still feel so upset, but, I feel hollow more than anything. Like part of me is missing.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. I-I’m so sorry.” He kisses the top of your head. “I should’ve listened, I shouldn’t have left like that, but I was just so upset. I couldn’t be around you without feeling like screaming or crying or both.”

“We . . . We can get through this. Can’t we?”

You think about it. Is this something you can do? You’ve been through worse— you’ve seen him near death more times than you would like, you’ve seen how the toll of Daredevil and the stress of being an attorney wear him down. Even the debate on how we should bring up our children should you choose to have them strained you both. But your happiness, your life together, it’s bigger than your low points. It has to be.

It has to be.

Right?

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Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @loves0phelia

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lilbitdepressed27 · 17 hours ago

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Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader All of Us Are Dead AU

Warnings: death angst blood

WC: 8.9k

Author's Note: no one asked, but I did it anyway. Sorry for any mistakes. Hope you guys enjoy, it's kinda long :)

"Oh come on!"

"Ah ha, I thought you said it was easy?"

"Ugh get off me."

You laughed at your best friend as you got off him and helped him up. You were on the football team along with your best friends and some of your other friends. You were the quarterback and a pretty damn good one for the university. It was your first year playing and you had already made such a great start, you started off as a sub. But when the starting quarterback started getting cocky and just being a jackass during the second game of the season. He was benched. And then you were sent in and since then Frankie had been benched. And he was not happy about it.

"Damn you move fast. You sure you wanna stay as a quarterback cause you'd be great on the defensive line." Chad said as smoothed out his sore bottom.

"It only helps when the quarterback doesn't know what he's doing." You nudged him with a smile on your face. "Now come on. Practice is over and we have to get cleaned up before we're late for class."

You and Chad had made your own way to the cafeteria where all your friends were at to get breakfast.

"Hey did you hear about the professors kid. You know the science professor." Chad said fixing his tie on his uniform.

"Huh? Oh yea. Apparently he committed suicide. Poor kid." You have seen the kid in question around. How he mostly kept to him self. Never bothering anyone. But there was always a group of boys who tormented the kid. You and Chad tried to put a stop to it. But it never worked.

"Don't even think that this is your or our fault Y/n. I mean, we did what we could. There's only so much someone can do. At the end of the day the person being bullied has to stand up for themselves. Cause if they don't, they become the easy target." Chad patted your back bringing you into a side hug. He knew how much you cared about people. He knew you since you two were in diapers. You had always had the protective mama bear in you. He and all your friends had always teased you about it.

Both of you arrived in the cafeteria seeing your group of friends sitting at the table in the corner. Your frown turned into a smile as soon you saw the small brunette. Tara Carpenter. You had met Tara when you were in middle school and have been in love ever since.

"Come on. I'm hungry you can ogle at Tara from up close." He teased pushing your towards the line. Seeing as breakfast hour was almost over there was hardly anything good. You would usually grab a fruit cup, apple and a protein bar with some apple juice on the side. "Damn. There's no more pop tarts."

You grabbed the last protein bar before Chad could get it and laughed when he was stuck with a banana.

"Whatever come on."

Tara looked up from her work, seeing you walking towards her. Her face brighten, her hand reaching for you as you grew closer, your much larger hand covered hers. It was a feeling Tara loved. How warm your hands were. They were always so warm, even in the winter.

"Hey. I got you your fruit cup and an apple." She handed you the food as you sat down next to her. Her heart racing as you directed a smile towards her. She knew that smile. The smile reserved only for her. Her face warming when you leaned into her and lightly kissed her cheek.

"Thanks Tar."

"You're welcome." She leaned into your side, embracing your warmth.

"Hey did anyone hear that the girl from home room went missing." Amber spoke from across the table.

"Which one Amber. There's like-"

Tara tuned out the conversation. Her focus was on you. How you silently ate your food but yet still paid attention to everyone else. How your hand stayed in hers. Your thumb softly creasing the back of her hand. She's never felt this deep about someone. The deep affection for you was something that scared her. It terrified her so much but yet she loved the feeling.

She loved you.

You had been trying to focus for a while now. But three classes already had you feeling so sleepy. It was just one more class before the lunch hour began. In this class you didn't share it with any of your friends. So you were alone.

You heard rumors about the girl that went missing was found in the science professors lab. You heard that he had been arrested and was taken away by police. You didn't take his class but Tara and most of your friends did. You would have never expected it from a teacher like him.

Right when the bell rang you were out of your seat and headed to the cafeteria.

"Run!!"

Students ran passed you, leaving you confused on what they were running from.

"Y/n run!!" Wes grabbed your hand as he ran passed you. Your eyes widen in shook when you saw what he was running from. Zombies?! You ran after him only to be tackled by one of the zombies.

"Y/N!"

The zombie was one of your teammates, was on top of you. Trying to bite you. You held him by his neck doing your best to keep him away from you but his arms swung wildly hitting you in the face. You tried to use your legs but it was like he was dead weight on you. His teeth grew closer to your neck making you scream in desperation.

Then the weight was off you, you gasped in relief as Wes helped you up. "Come on!"

The two of you ran dodging students and zombies.

"Wait where are the others?!" You yelled. He looked back at you with a remorseful look. "Wesley where are the others."

"I don't know. I think they were in the cafeteria. I don't know. I didn't get a chance to get there before they attacked. Come on."

You had no choice but to follow him. Passing students that were being attacked. Rushing up the stairs only to get hit with what felt like a ton of bricks. Falling hard to the floor your vision going a little blurry. You felt yourself being picked up and lead into a classroom. The door shut behind you as you leaned on the wall. You touched you head and felt something wet. Pulling your hand down and seeing blood on your finger tips.

You barely had a chance to gather yourself when a shorter body slammed into you.

"Thank god you're okay. Everything happened so quickly. I tried to go find you but Chad wouldn't let me go. I was so scared something happened to you." Tara mumbled into your neck as her arms tighten around your waist. The moment that chaos started she along with her friend had been in cafeteria. If it weren't for Amber, she probably would have died when she had frozen in fear when she fell.

"It's okay Tara I'm fine. Chad did the right thing. It's too crazy out there. Let me see you." Cupping her cheeks in your palms you pulled her away enough where you could look down at her and make sure she was okay. You caught the moment she saw the cut on your temple. Her eyes widen as she reached up her hand taking a hold of your chin as she turned your head to the side.

"Come on. I think there's a first aid kit in the professors desk."

Sitting down on the professors chair she got to work on cleaning your cut up and covering it with a bandaid. As she was cleaning you up you saw a small bandage around her wrist that wasn't there in the morning. You took a hold of her hand to take a better look.

"What happened to your wrist?" You looked up at her, she had stood between your legs as she cleaned you up.

"The girl that went missing was in professor Smiths class. She had been attacked by him and had escaped this morning. And wondered in to professor Prescott's class. She seemed confused and erratic when we took her to the nurses office. She attacked the nurse and scratched me. But I'm okay." She reassured you hoping to ease your worries.

"Okay." You nodded trying to calm your racing heart. You could still hear the screaming coming from outside the classroom. You looked around the room seeing most of your friends. Chad, Mindy, Amber, Anika, Wes, Ethan, Quinn, and Liv. Also two other students, Jason and Greg.

"Sam?" You knew she had gone away with her archery team. They had a competition today but she had said that they'd be back by lunch. Her boyfriend Danny was with her, he was on the team as well.

"No. I haven't seen her. But she's Sam. I'm sure she's fine. Right? She's got to be." She started breathing heavily and you had to calm her down before she had an asthma attack. You always had an inhaler with you.

"Hey, Tara look at me. I'm sure she's okay. I mean your sister is a badass. Don't tell her I said that though, her ego is big enough." The shorter brunette let out a small laugh knowing it was very true. "She's okay. I promise you that."

"So what are we going to do? I mean we all saw the same thing right? Those were zombies. I mean they remind me of the zombies from the movie Train to Busan." Mindy said from standing next to the window that looked out to the track and field. Her girlfriend Anika was standing right next to her. Still shaking in fear.

"Zombies? Seriously Mindy. You watch way too many movies." Quinn moved towards the window to see the caos that was happening outside.

"She's not wrong. They act like zombies. I saw Richie get bit and he turned in like a few seconds." Wes said from his spot next to the door. He had pushed a small cabinet up against the door. Hoping to make sure that no one would get in.

"So what do we do. Wait for help to arrive? We don't know how long that'll take." Ethan stood up from sitting next to Wes. He walked up to you, giving you a once over. "Glad you're okay." He patted your shoulder. You offered him a small smile and nod. Ethan had also been a close friend of yours. Him, Chad, Wes and yourself were on the team and great friends.

"We could wait it out. It won't be long till the cops show up. I mean it's basically a riot on school grounds. Anyone have their phones? I left mine in my bag in the cafeteria." Anika asked as she searched for her phone only to come up empty handed.

"I dropped mine when I got tackled. Tar do you have your phone." You turned your attention to short brunette still standing between your legs. She dug in her pocket and took it out. You looked down at her phone to see a picture of you. You were in your football uniform except the helmet. You were smiling big in the picture holding a bouquet of flowers and a small teddy bear close to your chest. You remember that day clearly. You had won your first game that you played as the starting quarterback. Tara had bought the gifts knowing very well you were going to win. She had captured your cheesy smile that she loved so much and made it her locksceen.

You smiled up at her, she tried to hide her blush but smiled regardless. She dialed 911, bringing the phone up to her ear. You watched as she spoke to the dispatcher. The officer seemed not to believe her but never the less said they'd send officers to the school.

"I'm going to call Sam. Hopefully she answers." It was quiet, well as quiet as a zombie filled university could be. You stood up from the chair and let Tara sit in it. "Nothing. She's not answering." She bit her bottom lip, a nervous habit she had. Her hands playing with her phone. You took the phone from her hands putting it on the desk, then taking her hands in yours. Bringing her down on your lap.

"Hey, she'll be okay. She's with Danny and she's strong. She'll be alright." You spoke softly to her, gently squeezing her hands. "Look at me." When her eyes met yours, you smiled softly she returned the small smile. Eyes still filled with worry. "She'll be alright. I need you to focus on yourself right now. Okay? Take a deep breath for me baby." Even though you had her spare inhaler with you. You didn't want her to over work herself.

She followed your directions with no complaints. Once she had her breathing in check she looked down at you and leaned down. Softly kissing your lips. She didn't know what she'd do if she lost you.

"Well how crazy was it in the cafeteria?" You asked Chad. Tara, Liv Mindy, Anika, Amber and Quinn were sitting at the corner furthest away from the door. The door was blocked but to be on the safer side. Chad, Wes, Ethan and yourself stood by the window of the second floor building.

"Got too crazy way too fast. How the hell did this even happen? I mean, the girl that went missing was-" The group of teenagers were stoped at the sudden noise of the door being pushed open. The small cabinet moved from the force of the door opening. The girls scrambled to their feet at the sight of the P.E teacher who was also your coach breathing heavily as he closed the door. He looked frantically around the room eyes landing at the group of kids.

"Coach were you bit?" You asked as you took a step forward a hand shooting out and grabbing the back of your shirt. Wes stood behind you, holding your jacket, once he realized that you wouldn't get closer to the coach he let your jacket go.

"No I wasn't bit. Let's let's block the door. We need to secure it. Make sure they don't get in. Come on."

Everyone moved to block the door, as you moved to do what the coach said when a hand held your wrist. You turned back to see Tara. "What's wrong?" Asking as you turned to be directly in front of her.

"Look at his arm. There."

You turned back to look at the teacher. The sleeve of his jacket was rolled up. But there, you saw blood on his wrist. The teeth marks. You knew he'd be turning at any moment know.

"Coach your arm-What are you on about Y/ln come and help. Or I'll bench you and let Frankie back in." He spoke angrily but his eyes filled with fear and denial.

"Y/n what are you doing he said he wasn't bit." Jason said as he stopped his movements from barricading the door.

"He has a bite mark on his arm." You argued with your coach. You felt bad but he was putting your friends, Tara in danger. You knew it wouldn't be long once he turned. "You need to leave."

He scoffed, "You want me to go out there? After all I did to get here."

"Get out, right now. You were bitten and it's putting all of us in danger." Tara fired back, your arm reaching for her and pushing her behind you.

"Listen here you fucking-" He gasped at the feeling of blood coming out of his nose. The coach looked at you as he fell to the ground, his body convulsing.

You stepped back pulling Tara with you. You could only watch as your coach turned into a zombie.

"Get him out of here!" Greg yelped, the zombie looked his way and launched towards him.

The second they were all frozen in fear, it was all it took for the zombie to go for the bite. You reacted first, running forward.

"Y/n no!"

You pulled the coach off Greg, throwing him to side. You picked up a book and hit him with it, making him fall back. "We need to get outta here!"

"Come on!" Chad ran towards the door pulling the desks and cabinets out of the way with the help of Ethan and Wes. The girls followed close behind them. Tara grabbing you by the hand, pulling you behind her as you and your friends ran down the hall. Leaving the coach and Greg behind.

"Where are we going?!" Amber yelled as she swung the handle of a paper guillotine she broke off.

"The science lab!" Chad yelled back. He had a leg of a wooden chair swinging the stick pushing the zombie off Ethan.

You had been thrusted a chair leg by Chad as you were pulled down the hall. Amber and Mindy had pulled Tara from you as you helped the boys push back the zombies from getting to them. They all ran upstairs trying to get to the science lab.

"Y/n hurry!" You heard Tara yell from behind you. You looked behind you to see her, her arm being held by Amber.

"Go! Open the door for the science lab! I'll be right behind you!" You grunted at the force from the pushing. You spared a glance back at Tara, she was being pulled by Amber and Mindy. You swung the chair leg at one of the zombies. Feeling your heart beating in your ears when you realized the way to your friends was being blocked by zombies. There was no way for you to get through them.

Having no choice but to hide in another room.

The door was slammed shut. All the guys moving to push something in order to make sure the zombies didn't push through. The brunette looking frantically around for you. But you were hard to miss. In any crowded room she'd always find you. Like her eyes were magnets, always connecting with yours.

"Where's Y/n?"

Wes snapped his head up. You were right behind him. He heard you shout that you were right behind them.

Tara didn't think, didn't wait for anyone to say anything before she was at the door trying to move the stuff blocking the door. She needed to get to you. Make sure you were okay.

"Tara, Tara you can't go out there." Amber was the one to stop her. Feeling the shorter girls shoulder shaking.

"Please Amber, I have to make sure she's okay. She has to be okay. I can't lose her." Tara let the sob out, you were right behind her. Telling her that you were right behind her. She knew she should have stayed with you. Feeling like the walls were closing in on her as she cried into Amber's shoulder.

Amber swallowed the lump in her throat. Seeing what her best friend and you had was something she could only wish for. Seeing the relationship blossom from such a young age was something everyone wanted. That true love. Knowing that if something were to happen to either of you, the other would be lost with out them.

"Come on Tara. Breath. Y/n is one of the strongest and most athletic person I know. Not to mention she's too stubborn when it comes to getting to you." Amber spoke gently to the shorter girl, leading Tara away from the door towards the window.

Everyone else looked back out the small window on the door, afraid that they'd see their friend as one of the zombies

You had ran into the art room, running straight to the desk with the little seconds you had before the zombies came running in. Staying at quiet as you could as you heard the footsteps and groaning coming closer. You needed to find a way out of the class and back to Tara.

"She'll be okay, you have to believe that she will." Amber looked out the window, looking at what was once a field filled with joy now filled with groans of students that she once knew. She felt Tara's warm hand taking hers. Tara had been her friend for the longest time. She felt tears build up in her eyes as she failed to look at Tara. She knew what was going to happen. She could feel it inside her. And she was scared.

"Amber, your hand, it's co-" Tara felt the dread wash over her like a cold bucket of water being poured over her head at what it meant. Amber was cold to the touch, her best friend always had cold hands. It was nothing new. But this type of coldness was new. Her eyes connecting to the eyes that were once brown. Were now red.

"Amber?" Quinn stood up, looking at the shorter girl. She stepped closer, her eyes also filling with tears. She couldn't lose another friend. Especially not Amber. Not when she hasn't told her how she felt. She looked at Tara who was yet to look away from Amber. When Amber turned around she felt her heart shatter at the sight of the nose bleed. She knew what that meant.

"It's okay Quinn. It's okay." Amber looked at the taller girl. She hated herself for not telling the girl how she felt. For waiting too long. From the moment she first saw Quinn. She shouldn't have let the chance go. But now. Now it was too late. She didn't want to do this to Quinn but she knew she had no control of what was going to happen next. Her gaze turned to the Quinn's brother.

Ethan stood behind Quinn, ready to protect Quinn and Tara when it came down to it. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before the Amber they knew was gone. He looked into Amber's eyes. The unspoken words in her eyes. He nodded. He knew what that look meant. He saw the small glimpse of relief in her eyes and her shoulders before the look was gone replaced with pain.

"I love you Quinn."

Quinn let out a sob, she was losing Amber. The smart witted girl that had stolen her heart with snarky remarks. Moving forward to get closer to Amber. Only to be held back by her brother.

"Get her the fuck outta here. Do something!"

Everyone ignored Jason as they watched Amber fall to the floor. The cocky, witty, Amber was gone. Replaced by a raging, flesh eating monster.

You peaked from the corner of the desk. There was a few zombies in the class. All gathered around the entrance of the class. There was no way you were getting out through that. You weren't sure what to do. Or how to do it. You looked around hoping to find a way back to Tara and your friends. The only way out would be through the windows, you had no other choice.

You were quick to move, throwing what you can to keep, the zombies away from you. You tried not to look down, the science lab was a level up. You weren't so sure if you'd be able to climb up.

Your foot slipping on the ledge making your heart jump to your throat "Oh shit."

You shuffled on the side, trying to figure out, how you could climb up. When you saw Wesley on what you assumed to be a water hose. You watched as he struggled to kick off the zombie off his foot. "Holy shit Wes, hold on I'm coming to you."

"Y/n? You're alive!" He smiled momentarily forgetting the situation he was in. The happiness he felt was quick to wash away at the pull of his leg. He couldn't get a good grip on the hose.

"I'm going to you. Just hold on." You weren't sure how you'd get to Wes.

"Y/n, look up."

You looked up, eyes widening at seeing a bloody face of a zombie, this time without a moment of hesitation. You leaped towards Wesley. Your heart jumping towards your throat as you free fell for a second before your arms wrapped themselves around Wes.

You were quick to kick off the zombie that held on to Wesley's foot.

"Ugh thanks. Now get off me, go down to the broadcasting room."

"What? I thought you liked my hugs." You smiled as you moved further down on the hose. Carefully going through the window.

"Y/n? Holy shit dude I thought you were dead." Ethan was quick to pull you in a tight hug. You hugged him back. He was quick to pull away, right when a familiar sob rang through the room. You looked ahead seeing Tara, her eyes red filled with tears.

You felt her body shaking as she fell into your arms. Her arms had wrapped around your waist in a tight hold as she cried into your chest. You held her closer looking at everyone around the room. You knew she was most likely worried about you. But hearing her cry like this was concerning. The more you looked around, you realized someone was missing.

Amber. Amber wasn't in the room.

With a regretful nod, Wes confirmed your thoughts. Your eyes falling to Quinn who was also crying. Your heart ached at the look on her face. You had tried hard to get Amber and Quinn together but they both were too scared of rejection.

Your eyes filled with tears. Tara had lost her best friend, your friend. Amber had been the first one to know about your feelings towards Tara. Amber had been the one to push the both of you together.

And Quinn lost someone who could have been the love of her life.

Amber was gone.

"Hey, talk to me." You whispered, you were sat at the corner of the room with Tara sitting in between your legs. She was leaned back into your chest. Her head resting in your neck. You could hear her faint whizzing. She had cried herself into an asthma attack.

"I-I thought you were gone. Her...Amber's- her hands were so cold. Her hands have always been cold. But they were freezing...She's gone. Amber's gone."

She began to cry softly, you brought her closer softly rubbing her back. Hoping to give her a bit comfort. But you knew you could only do so much. Amber was like another sister to Tara.

"I'm sorry Tara." It was all you could say. There was nothing that could comfort Tara at the moment. She had just lost someone that was like a sister to her. You hated thinking what Amber could have felt. How scared she must of felt. For Amber to go through that it made you want to cry.

"He's bleeding, he's infected. We have to throw him out."

You were brought out of your thoughts to see Jason pointing a finger at Wes. You and Tara both stood up looking at Wes to see his nose was bleeding.

"Oh I slammed my face on the wall when I had to jump out the science lab window." He wiped his nose with his vest, that he had taken off.

"No. You're going to turn into one of those things. He's putting all of us in danger. Greg, Coach Loomis, Amber. They all started showing signs of infection with a nose bleed." Jason argued. "Look at his fucking hand-"

"Stop." You pushed Jason away from Wes. You did not want to believe your best friend was going to change into one of those things. You stood in-front of Wes taking his hand in yours. You saw the scratches on his fist. They didn't look too deep. But you weren't sure if he'd turn. Everyone you saw turn, they had been bitten.

"It's just a scratch." You stepped beside him looking back at your friends. "He'll be fine."

"Oh you're one to talk. Profesor Prescott. You have to do something about it." Jason argued, he wasn't going to let this infected be in the room. Putting him in danger.

"Wesley. How about you go into the soundproof room and wait it out. Make sure you're not infected. Just a safety precaution." Sidney truly still couldn't wrap her head around what was happening. The fear she felt was something she has never felt. But she knew she had to stay control and hopefully keep her kids safe.

"But Profesor Prescott-Please Wesley. We can't be too careful."

With a huff he walked into the soundproof room. The door shutting behind him. You watched as he sat down on a chair. You really hoped he didn't turn. You couldn't lose any more friends.

"Well times up. I think Jason here owes Wes an apology." Chad spoke his arms crossed as he stood straight looking down at the boy in question.

"What? Yea right. I'm not apologizing to him. Why the fuck would I?" Jason crossed his arms in anger. Hating the way everyone in the room was looking at him.

"Dude, just own up that you were wrong." Ethan said from his spot, he had been trying to comfort his sister. There was times he had thought that Quinn would have gotten together with Amber. He had high hopes for his sister. But now she looked heartbroken and he couldn't blame her. Amber was a big part of the group.

"Yes Jason please go apologize to Wesley."

With even the teacher gaining up him. He had no choice but to go into the room. A dark thought crossing his mind. Once he would follow through. The consequences not being enough to stop him.

Everything happened so quickly. He was fine. Then the next his nose was bleeding with her being blood red. Tara stood behind you, knowing very well what you were going through. You were losing your best friend and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. Only being able to watch as Wesley changed into one of the monsters as well.

The group was losing more friends than they had been prepared for. First Amber and now Wesley. You had stood next to the window for the longest time. You Chad and Ethan had to push Wesley out of the window. Trying hard to avoid getting bit by your once called best friend. He had been your first friend, back in preschool. He had been the one to name you his best friend.

And now he was gone.

"We have to find a way outta of here." Your gaze was on the world outside. You had lost sight of Wes the moment he got up from falling from the third floor window. Tara stood by your side her grip on your hand never wavering.

"How? Out there, it's too crazy and too risky." Chad spoke from his spot in the floor. He knew that help would take too long for it to arrive. With how dark and chaotic it looked from the room window. He knew that help could take up to hours if not days.

"The front is not an option. But the through the back. The construction sight we could use that route and head through the woods." You needed to get your friends out of this school. Staying here was clearly not an option.

"Okay, how do we get through those zombies?" Ethan spoke from his spot between his sister and Chad. He saw the familiar crinkle form in between your eyebrows as you thought of something. He watched you, the sadness and the complete refusal of acceptance of Wes being gone was still in your eyes.

"Zombie guts?"

"What?" Everyone turned their gaze to Mindy.

Mindy shrugged, "don't look at me like that. Haven't you guys watched the Walking Dead or any other zombie related movie. We all established that these things are zombies. So there for we use zombie guts to hide are humanly odor with flesh and get the fuck outta here." She stood up, her hand held out to help Anika up.

"Alright, it's not like we have other options. how do we get one of those things in here?" Anika asked, she was scared. Scared for what was going come. Especially if this idea became something they actually did. They already lost Amber and now Wes.

The professor in the room stayed quiet, what had just happened was something she was surely she'd never forget. Wes, Judy's son. He had been the sweet boy one second and replaced by a flesh eating monster. The change had been quick. She didn't know what or how she'd tell Judy. Judy loved her boy, he had always been her pride and joy. To have that taken from her, Sidney couldn't even imagine what that felt like.

"There's plenty of st-bodies in the hall." Sidney finally found her voice. She felt guilty for even saying it but if it meant saving at least these kids, well she had to try.

It took a day of no rescue for the others to actually go through with the plan. The day had been spent going back up to the tech room. Retrieving a drone to look for any survivors. With no luck on the drone it had made the original plan more cemented in everyone's mind.

"We should still use something to distract those things." Sidney said as they had successfully dragged two dead zombie student bodies into the room. She could see how your bloody hand shook as you put down the blade. Ethan and Chad had helped you drag the two unrecognizable kids into the room.

"The intercoms you use for morning announcements?"

"Okay Anika come and help me."

While Anika and professor Prescott worked on that. You stayed looking down at the blood on your hands. You had just killed two students. Two students that were no longer themselves but yet you did it. The parents of said kids would never get the chance to see them again. And now, now you were planning to cut them open. Like pigs, all in the name of survival. What you were about to do, you weren't even sure if it'd work. But it had to. You and your friends couldn't last another day in this school.

Soft hands cupped your cheeks, lifting your gaze away from your hands. "Hey, look at me." Dark brown eyes looked back into yours. "Stay with me." Her words rang in your ears. Your racing thoughts come to a halt, you need to get Tara out of this school. Some where safe.

"It's ready."

Now all that was to be done was to butcher these kids, before you could even pick up the blade someone else took picked it up.

"You've done enough, I got this." Ethan said giving you no chance before he took a deep breath and you flinched at the sound of bones breaking. You looked away, your eyes finding Tara who was by the window. You knew she was worried for her sister.

"Wait, Professor? How do I use the intercom's?" You asked while Ethan helped cover the others in blood.

"Just push down on this button to speak, okay go ahead."

"Sam if you can hear this, it's Y/n, we are going towards the construction sight. Please try to meet us there."

The walk was tense. Everyone in the group falling in a close line. Tara standing right behind you. The halls had a few stragglers, but they paid no mind to you or the others. Those things, too occupied with the morning positive announcements. From what you could see the plan was working. Thing that worried you was that said announcements were only thirty minutes long. And it's been twenty at most minutes that have passed since you all stepped out of the broadcasting room.

"We have to hurry."

Your head snapped back at Jason. The look was harsh, as the deal was to not talk and make unnecessary noise. But the damage was already done. The zombie that was closest to him had growled in his direction, it was enough for him to get out of line stumbling on a dead body, making him crash on to the floor. The yells of the zombies as the scream that left his lips was enough to draw in more.

Some bumped into you but paid you no mind you had taken Tara in your arms the moment he had fallen out of line. You couldn't do anything without putting the others at risk. So you took a quiet step back. Leading the others away.

It was too late for him anyway.

The plan was going too smoothly. You were only minutes away from entering the construction site. When the rain came followed by loud thunder. You breath hitched at the meaning. The smell of dead would wash away. Leaving you and your friends exposed.

"Run."

The panic washed over everybody, the pace picked up and the rain fell harder. The sound of infected roared as the picked up the scent of human flesh. The group cutting through the open field to get to the closest construction area. Running into the building.

"Get down!"

The group of teens didn't hesitate as they dropped to the floor. The faint noise of arrows flying by. The sound of the dead dropping and staying down. You had covered Tara with your body. When the only thing that could now be heard was the sound of rain and thunder. You looked up eyes connecting with familiar brown eyes.

With a chocked laugh you got up, helping Tara up. Tara only had a second until she realized who was in front of her. "Sam." The hug between the two sisters was a moment you felt like you needed. The relief in Tara's shoulder was noticeable. Sam looked at you and the group. Eyes furrowing, you felt like you knew what she was thinking. Shaking your head slightly, her eyes filled with remorse and slight tears.

"We have to get off school grounds. It's too crazy here." Danny said after retrieving the arrows. "I was able to talk with my dad before the phone lines stopped working. People were able to evacuate to the town over. The city is blocked by the military, so we have to go to one those checkpoints and hope they don't shoot first."

If the military was able to evacuate some people you knew that if the school grounds were crazy, the city was most likely worse. With a sigh of what you and the others will most likely go through. Getting to the construction sight had been hard and almost seemed too difficult. But now having to just go into the city, now that was impossible.

"Okay guys just stay close okay. Everyone has a weapon right?" Danny asked as he loaded his own bow with an arrow. His gaze falling on you. He could see how much it hurt to lose Wes. He had been more like brother to you and he knew how much you cherished the friendship with Wes. He also knew that Tara was hurting. Amber was also like sister to Tara. Being there when Sam couldn't.

"Okay. I'll be in the front, arrows in the front clearing a path. Y/n, Chad, Ethan think you two can handle the back?" Danny asked getting nods in response. "Everyone else try to stay in the middle don't get separated. Alright let's go."

He felt cold, confused, hungry? He felt really hungry. The hall floor was hard and wet, but the more he became aware the more he realized that it was blood on his clothes. His blood.

The memories came flooding back in, the feeling of being eaten alive. He remembered all those bites, he felt those bites before his world went black.

You.

You had left him there to die. Not even moving to help.

He'd make you pay.

Tara kept looking back at your direction, she didn't like that you were in the back. She was thankful to know that her sister was alive and not one of those things. Yet she still feared what could happen. They had successfully made it out of the school. Cutting through the back woods. The woods had been thankfully deserted with no infected in sight.

With Sam in front of her along side Danny, the walk was quiet, tense. She was afraid that the smallest noise would bring those things down on them.

She had to believe, or at least hope that everything would be okay.

You breathed heavily as you pushed your back onto the door. The dead pushing their own weight to get the door to open. "Fuck! Get something to block the door!" Chad and Ethan helped you with the door. While the rest helped with pushing a big cabinet. Your body pushed forward from the force of the door trying to he pushed open.

"Guys hurry up!" "Move!" The big cabinet fell in front of the door blocking the infected from getting in.

"Man that was intense, everyone okay?" You slumped back into a wall, everyone responded with a confirmation. "Come let's get away from the doors and windows."

Once everyone was in a more secluded area with less windows, you turned and checked over Tara. "You okay? No bites? Do you need your inhaler?" Hands stopping their movements on her cheeks.

"I'm fine. Come on let's rest." The day had been a long one. From moving discreetly and not so discreetly the group had to take refuge in a restaurant. The moment you had a chance you took Tara into your arms. Thankful to have her safely in your embrace.

With most of the electricity being out in the city the streets were dark and if not almost impossible to see in the dark. So you had to find shelter and having to move when the sun was out. The rest was well deserved, with everyone running low on energy. The group had taken shelter in a room furthest from the front door. But it had a window just in case of needed to get out of there quickly.

Tara had been asleep on your chest, she felt so exhausted, hungry. It was still dark out, so she wasn't sure what woke her up. You were still asleep, your chest rising and falling in a calming way. Your face was relaxed for the first time since this whole thing started. As she traced your facial features with her eyes, the glow of the moon was enough for her to see your face. She heard a noise. A noise that she was certain was what woke her up.

The door leading down to the empty hall way was closed and barricaded with a desk. Everyone had fallen asleep. As she moved to get up your arm wrapped around her waist tightened.

"Where are you going?" Your voice came out as a whisper. You had always been a light sleeper.

"I heard something." She whispered back. You were now wide awake as you sat up with her. She watched as you stepped silently towards the door, she moved behind you, refusing to let you go alone.

You only moved the desk a few inches. Enough to only crack open the door, only to get a peak outside. The noise was heard again. But you couldn't see anything, the halls were dark. The moon light only casted so much light. The noise got closer and closer until you saw two eyes looking up you. The breath you didn't even know you were holding was let out.

Meow.

The cat used the small gab you left open. To get in. The black cat rubbing against your leg.

"Oh it's a kitty." Tara gushed as she pointed the light from her phone on the cat. You chuckled and quietly moved to shut the door.

You didn't see it coming. You had been so focused on Tara's smile as she the cat in her arms. The force of the push had been so unexpected, the force throwing you back. Your eyes widen in disbelief at who stood there. Covered in blood and bloody snarl on his lips.

"You left me. You left me to die."

"Jason."

Everyone was now awake. You could feel the tension, and the guilt you felt washed in.

"Feeling guilty?" His twitching was noticeable. You couldn't wrap your mind around that fact that he was still alive.

"Yeah, I felt guilty too...when I infected Wesley. But then I remembered what he did to me. Then it went away."

Your ears felt like they were ringing, his word repeating in your mind. Wes was fine till Jason went in that room to apologize. Jason killed Wes. He killed your best friend. You acted before really thinking.

"Y/n!"

Your fists connected with his face. The rage and fury you felt washed over. It angered you further that he was laughing. The rage grew and the punches became more intense.

Arms wrapped around you as they tried to pull you off. The arms of Ethan and Chad pulling you off there hold on you tight.

"You'll all die."

The sounds of groaning and screams filled the hall. Everyone sharing a look as they all moved to shut the door. Jason laid on the floor as he continued to laugh loudly. Drawing the attention of the infected. You wasted no time to grab him once again throwing him out the window.

"Fuck, out the window." Anika moved towards the broken window. Seeing Jason no longer where he landed. She was scared. Scared on what that could mean. He had turned but he wasn't like the rest. He was still conscious of his actions.

The sun just barely coming out casting a light into the room. Your hands still shook, the anger you still had was still there just now accompanied by some overwhelming regret.

"We have to move!! They're breaking through the door!" Danny yelled as he along with Chad, Ethan, Mindy and Sam tried to hold the desk in place.

Tara was quick to cup your cheeks breaking you out of your spiral. "Baby come on we have to go. Stay with me." Your eyes held so much and she couldn't even comprehend what you were thinking.

"Go with Anika, Sam go down with them. Make sure the way is clear for the rest of us to go down." Taking Tara's hands in your giving them a what you could only hope was a comforting squeeze. "Go with them. I'll be right behind you."

Tara heard you say that once and she lost you for second. This time she didn't listen. She moved to help you with the desk. "Ta-No, I'm not leaving you again. Mindy go. Then Ethan and Chad. I'll go with you. The window is big enough for the both of to jump out of."

Quickly they cleared the room. The door giving out the moment you and Tara rushed forward. The quickness of how you both went out the window falling into a dumpster.

"We have to move! Come on." You took Tara's hand and rushed down the alley. The same alley that was once mostly empty of infected was now filled with them. In the center was Jason. A smug smirk on his face.

"RUN!!"

Tara had always been light, with your work outs and constant sports you played you were in great shape. So when you felt Tara slowing down. You didn't even need to look at her when you picked her up. Her arms and legs wrapping around you tightly. Her shortness in breath had you worried and you knew she needed her inhaler.

"The bus! Get on the bus!" Sam yelled her pace picking up as she reached the bus getting the door open, thanking what ever god was up there that the keys were in the key was in the ignition.

You had been the last one to reach the bus. Only a step in when you felt a sharp pain on your forearm looking behind you to see Jason before an arrow was shot right in between his eyes. His limp body falling to the floor, unmoving.

The bus moved forward as the doors closed. The infected crashing into the side of the bus.

You focused on tara whose breathing was becoming more dangerously labored. You sat her down on one of the seats digging in your pocket to take out the inhaler. "Come baby, use this. Breathe in. I got you." You spoke softly in her ear. The inhaler brought up to her lips. "Nice and easy. That's my girl." It took a few more minutes for her breathing to return to a somewhat normal rhythm.

"Okay I think we lost them." Mindy spoke up as stood by Sam who had been driving. The roads were empty of infected, abandoned cars were on the streets but the bus was strong enough to move the cars out of the way.

Everything was a bit muffled for you. All you could think about now was the bite on your forearm that was covered by your long sleeve shirt. You weren't sure at first if you were going to turn seeing as Jason was still, alive? But as the minutes passed and the hour grew closer. You felt yourself growing lighter, weaker. You had to tell them.

Tara was resting her head on your chest as you leaned your back on the window. The cat on her lap also resting. Everyone was so unaware of what was happening.

"Sam stop the bus."

"What?" She looked back at you and then back at the road. It was an open field now the city behind as you were the check point wouldn't be too far now.

"What's wrong?" Tara pulled away from your chest to look at you. Her eyes searching for why you would want Sam to stop the bus. But you didn't meet her eyes. Instead you stood up as the bus stopped. Her hand reaching to take a hold of yours. Her breath hitching and the chill rolling down her body at the feeling of your cold hands.

"No." It came out so small, denying what it meant. You were probably just cold. Your hands got cold sometimes.

Your eyes filled with tears. You pulled back afraid of what was to come. You didn't want to hurt anyone. Especially not Tara.

Chad moved to stand behind Tara, confused what was wrong. "What's going on?"

You took another step back towards the doors. Tara refused to look away from you as her eyes filled with more tears, her lip quivering as she refused to believe what was happening.

"Y/n?" Ethan asked standing by Chad. His hand reaching for Chad's.

The lump in your grew bigger as everyone's eyes were now on you. your eyes finally meeting Tara's, the pure anguish and refusal to accept what was to come.

"Jason bit me, I wasn't sure if it was going to happen. But I am turning. I—I can fe—el it." The tears that blurred your vision finally fell. The feeling of you losing the control of your mind was a lot more, than you had expected.

"Da—nny shoot me."

"What?" Danny's voice cracked as he took you in. Your hands were shaking blood starting to roll down your noise.

"No!" The whizzing got worse as Tara rushed to get to you but was stopped by Sam. She tried hard to get out of her sisters hold but Sam had always been strong.

"D—on't want to....be one of th—ose things." You could feel the blood rolling down your noise. Your vision coming and going. Your knees growing weaker as you crumbled down to the floor. "Da—nny please."

Danny looked at Sam who was also crying trying to comfort her younger sister. Her brown eyes filled with uncertainty.

You tried to get back up wanting to get out of the bus.

Tara couldn't let you go. She couldn't, seeing your once y/ec eyes were now covered in a bloody red color. She cried out your name, desperately trying to get to you. "Sam please. There could be a cure. We just have to get her to one of the camps." Ignoring all the signs of the infection taking over.

"D—anny!" Your voice came out once more. More desperately. You had stood back up red veins noticeable on your face. Danny loaded his arrow hands shaking as he aimed it at you. You were no longer you.

"I'm sorry." The arrow went fast, and you dropped even faster. Your body laying thee no longer twitching, no longer moving. The arrow went directly into your left eye. He let his arrow drop his ears felt like they were ringing, muffling picking up the cry of Tara.

The world was coming to an end. And in a zombie apocalypse, everyone's survival was not guaranteed.

#fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream #x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega character

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writing-until-i-drop · 2 days ago

Text

Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 20

Summary:

Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?

Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.

A/N: Jake comes clean and Daisy has to talk to Penny

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

I managed to make it until we were back at my apartment before I broke. Tasha was spending the night at Javy’s place, which meant it was just the two of us and after a few hours of thinking up the worst possible scenarios for what Jake had to tell me, I was ready to cry, scream, or throw up. Or do all three at once, it was a toss up really.

“I’m going to sit down on the couch and you’re going to tell me what’s going on,” I said, putting my hands on Jake’s shoulder to stop him from kissing me when we walked in the door. “Because I know there’s something you’re not telling me.” Jake sighed, running a hand over his face.

“We’re not breaking up, let’s start with that,” Jake’s voice was tired but serious, his words striking out one of my fears. I nodded, running my hands up and down my pajama pants, trying to ease my anxiety with the familiar feeling of the fuzzy fabric. “Rooster and I might be deployed soon.” The news hit me like a blow to the gut, deployed? What happened over Thanksgiving had been a mission, just a few days apart and that had been hell.

“How long?” I heard myself ask, knees folding into my chest. Jake sat beside me, wrapping me in his arms, chin resting on top of my head.

“I don’t know, Wildflower.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know and I couldn’t tell you if I did, it would be classified,” Jake kissed my hair. “I don’t have any details, I don’t even know if it’s happening. It’s all just whispers behind closed doors and rumors at this point, which is why I didn’t want to say anything.”

“I love you,” It’s all I could think to say. Jake’s thumb brushed over my cheeks and that’s when I realized I was crying, “I love you so much.”

“I know, baby, I love you too,” Jake held me tight. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure.”

“Tell me next time, okay?”

“I promise, Wildflower. I’m sorry I worried you,” Jake kissed the top of my head, rubbing circles into my back. “I love you so much.”

My first thought was to run, to get away but the second that crossed my mind, the idea of being without Jake hit me like a truck. I didn’t want to be without him, I couldn’t imagine not having Jake in my life. He had managed to intertwined every part of my life with his, from my writing to his family, we were bound together. Running away now would be running away forever. Right?

“Why don’t we call Penny in the morning?” Jake kissed my hair again, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Maybe we can call mama and pops too.”

“I’d like that,” I nuzzled into his neck, “How long are deployments usually?” Jake sighed, bringing me onto his lap.

“It depends, there’s short deployments of just a few months and then there’s deployments that can last over a year.” A year? My grip on Jake’s waist tightened, “It’s probably not going to be that long, baby but if it is, we’ll figure it out.” After a few minutes of silence that felt like hours, Jake whispered, “You’ll be waiting here when I get back?”

“Always,” I answered without hesitation. I took Jake’s face in my hands, staring him down even though I still wanted to puke a little bit. Jake’s eyes were intense, his brow creased in worry. “I’m not going anywhere and no matter where you go, you’re coming back home to me. Deal?”

“Deal.” Jake closed the distance between our lips, kissing me soft and sweet. There was no rushing, it was as if we had all the time in the world, and if we did have all that time, what was a few months apart? He pulled my legs fully around him and stood, never breaking the kiss as he carried me to the bedroom.

When he laid me back on the bed and stripped me bare, Jake took his time. He covered my body in kisses, worshiping every inch like he was committing it to memory, and when we finished, he pulled me into his chest and held me tight all through the night.

The next morning I called Penny, who evidently had been waiting to hear from me. I tried to ignore the fact that everyone around me probably already knew about the deployment, especially the fact that Tasha hadn’t said anything. Penny invited me over and Jake dropped me off,

“Call me when you’re ready,” He whispered, kissing my forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too, cowboy.”

Penny greeted me with a hug and a mug of peppermint tea, she looked cozy in her navy pajama set and robe, pulling me into her living room.

“How are you holding up, kiddo?” Penny passed me a cream blanket that was soft.

“First thing I wanted to do was run,” Penny hummed, rubbing my knee. “Now I just feel a little numb.”

“I thought having grown up with my father’s deployments would have made things easier the first time my ex-husband deployed but it didn’t.” She sipped her tea, staring ahead where a picture of her and Amelia hung on the wall. “I spent the first month crying in bed, almost got fired from my job. Then one of the other wives in his unit, an older woman named Vera, sat me down for a talk.”

Penny looked the picture of calm as she spoke and I envied her for it. What I didn’t envy was how many years, deployments, and undoubted heartache that it took to cultivate that calm.

“She first told me that I looked like crap,” I chuckled along with Penny. “Then she told me I was going to join her walking group. Most of the wives in the unit met up every morning and walked a mile around base. If we had news, we shared it, some women talked about how their kids were handling things, we organized what we were sending in care packages, and we traded recipes. Anything to keep ourselves sane.”

“Are you asking me to join your walking group?” Penny pursed her lips at me, rolling her eyes. “What, you, me, and Ames could totally go for walks on the beach before school.”

“Good luck dragging that girl out of bed early,” She pushed my knee, laughing. “But seriously, Daisy, one of the best things you can do while he’s gone is stay busy and stay connected with me and with him.”

“How am I supposed to talk to him if I don’t know where he is?”

“You’ll most likely be able to call him but if you want to send him letters, you’ll give them to command and they’ll send the letters to him when they can.” When they can. That wasn’t very reassuring.

“What else do I need to know?”

I spent the day getting my affairs in order, scheduling a stop on my mail, making sure all my bills were on auto pay, and updating my will and life insurance policies. By the time it was lunch, my head was pounding from all of the tedious details.

When lunch time came and went without a word from Daisy or Penny, I stopped by the store and picked up a few things for Daisy’s apartment. Bath bombs, new pajamas, a few nice notebooks that she’d probably never write in for fear of “ruining” them. I chuckled to myself, I really did love her and all of her little quirks. If it wasn’t for Daisy’s one-year rule I’d pick her up from Penny’s and take her straight to the court house if she’d let me.

Deployments had never bothered me before, in fact, I loved them. They meant that I could fly on missions, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I kept an eye out for enemy bogeys. Now the thought of being away from home for even a few days made my heart hurt. I wanted to go to work in the morning, fly formations with the team, and come home to Daisy at the end of the day. I wanted to fall into bed beside her and tease her when she spent twenty minutes rearranging the blankets so she wouldn’t be hot.

The deployment hadn’t even started yet and I already wanted it to be over. I said a quick prayer, praying that this deployment would be a short one.

Taglist: @dizzybee03 @littlezee80 @nervousenemyduck @carolina-on-my-mind03 @mizzzpink @beltzboys2015-blog @writingrose @hookslove1592 @closetspngirl @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @closetspngirl @shanimallina87 @owenniasstars @cevansbaby-dove @caitsymichelle13 @bigstrongblackheart @mrsevans90

Next Chapter

#bet writes #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #wildflowers for a hangman fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #top gun hangman #hangman fluff #hangman smut #hangman #fanfic #glen powell

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nightlark100 · 2 days ago

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The List

I had an idea for a silly fanfic about the teen wolf pack making a list of rules for their pack to follow but i never got beyond the list itself and a tiny bit of story. So i thought i'd post it here.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

It had started as a joke. After another brilliant Scott plan gone wrong, Stiles had scribbled 'SCOTT IS NOT ALLOWED TO MAKE PLANS' in big letters on a piece of paper which he then stuck beside the front door.

"This is ridiculous," Scott protested, moving to take it down. "My plans aren't that bad"

"Yes they are. And no touching the paper! That is an official document"

"What."

Derek, drawn by the discussion, hovered in the doorway to the living room.

"Stiles… what is that and why is it on my wall?"

"This is the official Hale pack list of rules. We must all abide by it."

Scott scoffed and looked to Derek, expecting the alpha to side with him. Instead, he just narrowed his eyes before nodding.

"Alright"

"What?! But… Derek!"

"Sorry Scott. It's on the official list of rules, we have to follow it. No more plan making for you"

Scott is not allowed to make plans

No one mentioned the list again for a while and when they did, it was in a teasing way whenever Scott tried to suggest something, whether that something was what they should do that weekend or how best to combat a flurry of pixies in the preserve. The reminder of the ‘no plans’ rule was met with a good natured groan and an eye roll from Scott but little else.

One day however, Stiles was brought out of his latest research binge by the lid of his laptop being sharply closed. He looked up, blinking a few time as his eyes adjusted to the room after hours of staring at the bright screen.

“What the hell?”

The rest of the pack was sitting nearby, having been occupied by their own activities, with Isaac hovering uncertainly beside Stiles’ chair with a sheepish look on his face.

“Isaac?” Stiles prompted.

“Sorry Stiles but you’ve been researching for a day straight.”

“And?”

“Well… i mean… it’s on the rules.”

“What rules?”

“The official pack rules. By the door.”

Their conversation had drawn the attention of the others, most looking confused. Stiles set his laptop aside and went to the door. There beneath his scrawl was a new addition.

2. Stiles' laptop and phone must be taken away after 24 hours of continuous research.

“Who put that there?” he asked. The others stayed silent. Scott looked slightly smug but Stiles knew that wasn’t his writing. He let out an irritated noise and fished his phone from his pocket, intending to retreat to his room. If Isaac wouldn’t let him back on his laptop, he could still access his work that way.

Derek reached over and plucked the phone from his hand.

“Sorry Stiles. It’s on the list. You can have them back tomorrow.”

“Derek! Come on!”

He moved to grab at the phone but was struck with a wave of dizziness that sent him stumbling. Hands reached out to steady him, he wasn’t sure whose.

“Stiles, when did you last eat?” Lydia asked.

“Ermm… breakfast maybe?”

“Today?”

“No… yesterday…”

“Hmm. And drank something? That wasn’t full of sugar?”

“Errr…”

“Kitchen. You’re going to eat, drink some water and then you are going to get some sleep.” She guided him out of the hall with a firm hand, pushing him into a chair at the kitchen table while Isaac retrieved some leftovers from the fridge and filled their largest glass with water.

Both of them stayed in the kitchen with him until he was suitably fed and hydrated, then Lydia took him upstairs and put him to bed, giving him a dark look as she promised that if he got up to get one of his books instead of sleeping there would be consequences.

Stiles reluctantly obeyed.

He wouldn’t admit it but he did feel better the next morning. Until, as he headed downstairs, he noted a new line had been added to the paper by the door.

3. Stiles must be made to eat something and drink water after 6 hours of continuous research

After the first few additions, it seemed that some kind of dam had been broken and the rest of the pack didn’t hesitate to implement their own rules (although no one would admit to putting the limits on Stiles’ research time)

4. Newly turned betas are not allowed to partake in team sports until they have proven they can control themselves (e.g. no eye flashing, no claws, no fangs, no doing backflips over other players or any other feats of sudden athletic ability that may draw attention to the pack)

5. All of Derek's dates must be vetted. THOROUGHLY

“That's it. I'm putting a ban on Derek dating” Stiles said, picking chunks of viscera out of his hair. “This is the third time! At this point it's just negligent of us not to investigate anyone inviting you out.” A thought occured and he spun around to face Derek. “oh my god. You're a Xander!”

“What?”

“A Xander! Right Peter?”

“I would have to agree. He does have Xander like qualities when it comes to dating.”

“Again I say… what?”

“Buffy the vampire slayer. Peter and I have been watching it together.”

“Really Peter?”

“It's good!”

“It has its moments”

“Yeah you're just mad cause they got rid of Ethan. Who is 100% you. Just in it for the chaos.”

“Would that make you the Giles?”

“No! Why?”

“Oh come on, they were definitely a couple.”

“If i’m anyone, i’m willow.”

“Wouldn’t Lydia be Willow?”

“No, Lydia is Cordelia.” he glanced around, fearing the redhead would appear and yell at him. “On the surface, superficial cheerleader type. But goes through a bunch of character development and has a power that sucks.”

“Flawless logic. Why are you Willow?”

“Magic. Bi. Brief fall to the dark side. And then Scott would be Xander,”

“I thought I was Xander?”

“No, you’re just Xander when it comes to dating. Scott’s Xander the rest of the type.”

“And I suppose Allison is Buffy?”

“Noooo… Allison is Faith. "

6. Peter and Stiles are not allowed to watch Mythbusters anymore

“Really Derek?”

“Yes. Really. Last time you watched that show, you ended up building a trebuchet.”

“I believe it was just Stiles who built the trebuchet.”

“Yes but you helped load it.”

7. No Sex in the common areas! Erica this means you! (poor Isaac)

8. When offered a boon by a faerie BE SPECIFIC

9. Stiles is not to be left unattended in the vet clinic

10. Stiles is not to be left unattended around witches

11. Stiles is not to be left unattended around magic users

12. Stiles is not to be left unattended

13. Lydia and Peter are not to be left alone in a room together.

14. In the event that Stiles is transformed into a small furry animal, he is to be given into the custody of the Sheriff or Derek. Or Peter. Most importantly, Erica is banned from going near him (OH COME ON! YOU LOOKED INSANELY CUTE IN THE BATMAN COSTUME)

15. The Notebook is a great film and whoever keeps hiding the disc will stop immediately. OR ELSE. I think the or else was implied here Stiles…

16. Stiles is not to be given coffee

17. Stiles is not to be given extra Adderall

18. Anyone who gives the Sheriff food not on the approved list will face the wrath of Stiles

19. Peter is not allowed to comment on how attractive he finds Melissa McCall

20. Peter is not allowed to comment on how attractive he finds Chris Argent

21. ~Peter is not allowed to comment on how attractive he finds Stiles Stilinski~ (Stiles objects to this rule)

22. When throwing items at people, do not throw any of the books or Peter will eat you

23. No Stiles, having sex with a male werewolf won't get you pregnant. Even if it's an alpha. (That we know of)

24. No one is allowed to drive the Camaro except Derek

25. No one is allowed to eat in the Camaro

26. Alison is not allowed to take her crossbow to school

27. Alison is not allowed to take her knives to school

28. Seriously Alison, stop taking weapons to school!

29. Stiles is not allowed to touch any of Alison's weapons

30. If you bleed in the jeep, you are responsible for cleaning it

31. Do not enter the kitchen when Stiles is cooking. (This is for your own safety)

32. If you enter the kitchen while Stiles is cooking, do not attempt to steal food he is preparing. Werewolves cannot regrow fingers

33. If Stiles declares someone is evil, he is probably right and should be taken seriously.

34. If someone new starts working at the school, they are probably evil

35. If Peter offers to kill someone for you, he is not joking and it is not okay (no matter how tempting it is)

36. Do not ask Derek about dating Cora

37. Do not make dog jokes, especially to Derek, Stiles! (Not my fault he has no sense of humour)

38. ALWAYS CALL STILES FIRST IF YOU FIND A BODY

39. Stop asking where our eyebrows go when shifted

40. Stiles is not allowed a pet dragon

41. Stiles is not allowed a pet griffin

42. ~Stiles, stop trying to adopt baby mythical creatures~

43. Peter stop leaving dead animals on Stiles porch seriously dude, my dad thinks I've got a budding serial killer after me ~well, I wasn't technically wrong…~ minus the budding part

44. Stiles is not allowed to use his PowerPoint when telling people about werewolves (I don't care how many slide transitions you put in)

45. No Stiles, giving your PowerPoint to Peter or Lydia to present is not a loophole (oh come on! I even put a bibliography at the end! it's not my fault you're technology adverse!)

46. Derek is not allowed to lurk around abandoned buildings. It really doesn't help with the serial killer vibe you give off

47. If you kill someone, please make sure you chop them up or find another method to ensure they don't come back! We shouldn't kill people at all! I said IF! ~Stiles, please remember I'm an officer of the law~

47B. AMENDMENT TO THE PREVIOUS: If you kill someone, please make sure you chop them up or find another method to ensure they don't come back AND make sure you dispose of the body so that dad doesn't have to do extra paperwork

#hale pack #sheriff stilinski #isaac lahey #stiles stilinski #derek hale #peter hale #scott mccall #erica reyes #alison argent #vernon boyd #teen wolf

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kinardsevan · 3 days ago

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melbell's theory on "is it a swerve":

I have been saying for about two days that I would write out a whole through-line of my theory of what shenanigans might be happening in the writers room for 911.

I should specify first that this theory goes based on the idea that what’s being served to us currently is an entire swerve, and that they’re following the formula they’ve done before (ala Madney, Tarlos, etc.).

My theory ties into 807 as well. It has us not losing Tommy, but him actually being in the episode. Given that we know that it’s been said that recurring cast members will film in batches and not necessarily by week, that opens up the option for Lou to be in (at least) 807, if not more.

I know some of what has come out in social media in the past few days references that there was a certain lineup for the way B/T was viewed through 8a, and how it would culminate in the discussion of moving in together, referencing lore to Tommy’s past, possibly his father, etc.

My thing is that, at the end of the day as a creative, all I’m trying to do is follow the breadcrumbs we’ve been fed for the past 12 episodes of this show. Because of that, the points of note within those breadcrumbs are:

7x09: “Tommy’s good people. He’s good for you.”

7x10: “My dad and I don’t really talk…Having Gerrard was like having the father I already had.”

8x05: “people are what make life worth living”; “my boyfriend”; “It’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it? having a crew like this behind you, even when things go wrong” "especially when things go wrong"

8x06: “Do you love him” (entire speech)

Now obviously, coming out of season 7, this show knew they wanted Lou back, but they didn’t know what his schedule was going to look like or whether the character would pan out, how the general audience would continue to tune in, etc. However, they did lay down enough crumbs that they could pick up and continue to move forward with. They gave themselves the ability to tell a story with Tommy’s lore around his father, along with what they ultimately chose to do with Abby (which a lot of fans were talking about early on in the summer as it was).

Now, we’ve learned things since I first formulated this theory. We know that there’s a discussion about Buck having a “pendulum” reaction to the breakup and how to deal with it. We know that he’s going to throw himself into other things to cope. We know that there’s mention of “cracks starting to show” in reference to how he deals with the breakup. we also have mention in one of the articles about the possibility of them working a scene (as in accident, fire, etc) and things being awkward.

based on all of that prior information, (along with Josh’s speech in 806), when I saw the preview for 807, I was very quickly one of the people who was like “this is being done for angst. this is not the end of BuckTommy”.

My theory actually ties into (if we loved each other once) could we love each other twice, my latest fic. We don’t have any close-up shots of the person on the crane in the episode. We have the PA (or whoever he is) telling Bobby “there was an incident during filming, he fell and passed out”. Within the confines of me feeling like what’s happening is all a swerve on us, that line might not be entirely complete. I’ve theorized that the 217 is already on scene, and Tommy is the man hanging on the crane.

Why, you ask?

When is the last time we saw someone hanging from a crane? (Buck, lightning strike, if you’re playing the long game, kids). Why bring that back if it’s not intended to be paralleled in some way, the very way they have been doing with this couple from the jump?

We also have the voiceover of who we (aka as me and the two people I’ve actually written this all out for) assume is Oliver/Buck yelling “no no no no no!” in a panicked tone. For me, when I follow that line of logic (through 806 forward), things feel really clear.

Now I hadn’t considered the idea that they might actually kill Tommy off until today, but let’s go with the idea that they’re not. Everything that we’ve been given from 710 on starts fill in a really beautiful plot going into the midseason finale for these two.

Tommy is hurt. If the lightning strike is mirrored as I assume it is, the scene in reference will happen right about the end of 807. 808 will likely be some kind of other story (on purpose). I don’t think at this rate, we’ll actually ever get a Tommy Begins, but the title of Sob Stories really feels compelling to me on how they could do a version of this. Or a version of Tommy seeing what Buck’s life would be like without him, or any other version you want to think up.

You suddenly get all of these breadcrumbs lined up really nicely into these episode.

-Tommy’s dad can be presented to us. This also presents an opportunity to explain why Tommy feels unworthy/scared/etc of moving forward with Buck.

-“people make life worth living”; “especially when things go wrong”. This would be something going very wrong. this would present them with an opportunity to give the payoff that we’ve wanted to see Tommy receive since 710, being accepted into the family he has always felt outside of.

-“do you love him”. I think part of the break-up storywise being important for Buck is that it requires him to really dignify how he feels about Tommy. Another thing that this theory does is put them in a positon to really face the issue of remembering that life is not permanent. They can very much so end up without one another. And yes, shit already sucks being apart because Tommy broke up with him. But this brings to light the idea that, not only could they just be broken up, but that one of them could die and not have had whatever time they have left (especially given their career of choice) with one another. I think if you really lean into the parallel of the coma dream for Buck, it gives Tommy prime opportunity to learn why he’s afraid. Whether this is done in the form of a coma dream like buck, or like TK’s was with his mom (that feels more accurate for me with Tommy, meeting his mom, etc).

—I’ll also include the aside of Gerrard being around could also be an interesting addition to the story.

I can even see this feeding into whatever issue Buck runs into with Eddie in the coming weeks, whether it’s him still being upset with Tommy over the break up and Eddie saying Buck doesn’t have the full story, or Eddie thinking that Buck is giving in too easily after seeing him hurt. (Or that could be none of all of this).

As for the interviews that are concerning, I do have somewhat of an answer to that too.

I feel like on some level, Lou had to know that the fangirlish one was with someone who is fully behind Buddie and knew about the crap he’d been through. That interview didn’t have clear cut answers quite yet, and that one has me with this answer: nothing of what he said would necessarily be a lie.

He’s working on SWAT right now. Actors always have opportunities in front of them. He may have things that could affect how 8b goes, regardless. I have questioned whether he went into that interview with the discussion with the powers that be basically being like “don’t lie. but you can have fun with it, too.”

In terms of the others, I haven’t read every single article out there, but I know we hold a general lack of understanding about the fact that the “exit interviews” just feel weirdly un-exit like. I’ve read millions of them at this point due to Greys Anatomy. And as it’s been said, you never see people asked about coming back; in fact you usually get a lot of "what's next" instead. We don’t get a whole lot of clarity of what’s happening with Buck next, beyond “new hobbies” “family time” “dealing”.

That all said… I don’t know. I know the theory has legs, even though it takes shots from the articles we’ve been given. I started out with a lot of hope weighing into this theory. Now I’m not as certain. But I am someone who holding out hope that some version of a swerve is happening and it was just written really fucking poorly (and at the worst possible time known to queer men and women).

You’re welcome to share with me your thoughts. I’m open to polite discourse.

#mel's musings #bucktommy #my convoluted theory #i know it's got clown makeup all over it #but also #i feel like it tracks?#if this isn't actually what they're doing #they need a new writing team #and i'm available #tevan #kinley #firebeast #firepilot

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innergoateesong · 2 days ago

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The Only Exception ~ Vivianne Miedema

hey 👋, this is my first fanfic and i’m not too sure on it. i’ve been reading the ones on tumblr for about a year so hopefully i’ve gained some knowledge.

This is my work, kinda just made it up as i went. Hope it all makes sense and you enjoy it if you choose to read it. I’m open to feedback and any suggestions on how to improve or any fic recommendations. Thank you.

This is a song fic based off the song The Only Exception by Paramore. Mainly a fluffy fic with a tiny bit of angst dusted in the cracks.

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

When I was younger, I saw my daddy cry And curse at the wind

I’ve always been an angry person, i don’t allow myself to feel anything but anger. The tears that have ever slipped my whole life have not been from pain, only anger.

He broke his own heart and I watched As he tried to reassemble it

Childhood was tough, but isn’t everybody’s? I’ve always had the view of the world that doesn’t include me. Almost as if i feel i don’t deserve to have emotions and i’m just going through life on autopilot.

And my momma swore That she would never let herself forget

I didn’t grow up with family role models, i barely saw my parents and i never knew either of there families, my life was myself, in my room with chunky headphones in or on the pitch running to get my brain quiet. Nothing quietened my brain more than the pitch.

And that was the day that I promised I'd never sing of love if it does not exist

Even after moving to london to join one of the top clubs in the top english league i hid myself away. I walked into training with tunnel vision, headphones on, no eye contact, no verbal communication. and i walked out the exact same way.

For three years.

But darling, you are the only exception You are the only exception

It probably didn’t seem like it to my teammates but i really liked it at arsenal. My dream club. The 2018 season was when i first made some human contact. Viv started bringing my water from the cafeteria to the pitch for me. She smiled, gently. “Here, you forgot it.” “Oh cheers.” Let’s just say that wasn’t the only time i ‘forgot’ my bottle.

You are the only exception You are the only exception

I knew love wasn’t for me. I got a wee cockapoo and that was the only connection i needed. Until Viv sat next to me for breakfast one Wednesday morning. A soft grin resting on both our faces but a comfortable silence the way she must’ve known i liked it. A warm whisper appearing, “What are you listening to this morning?” “Just some silly love song.” “They’re my favourite.”

Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul That love never lasts

Now instead of an empty table with myself another seat was occupied. Breakfast was filled with faint smirks and slow songs ringing through the headphones we eventually shared, learning the tunes the other would hum along to and skipping the ones that would make them both scrunch up their noses. Before heading to the pitch where not another look is exchanged.

And we've got to find other ways to make it alone Or keep a straight face

“Oi, Viv. You and y/n have been getting close, what are they all about?” “y/n’s sweet.” Viv would glance at you in training and whenever else she got the chance but your hard facade was always held too strong for her to get to know you. Once when you got home and comfortable on the couch with Daniel, your cockapoo, there was a picture on instagram of breakfast earlier that day. Fans comments around you and Viv being an unexpected duo took over. You don’t like attention.

And I've always lived like this Keeping a comfortable distance

The next day viv was left alone. You wandered in right before training started, only having time to quickly change. A worried glance from viv was not unnoticed but definitely ignored. You had been letting her in. She was making you feel emotions you swore you never would. That training session didn’t go well. Everyone had seen you taking the game seriously but this was another level, Jonas even sent you in early with Steph to hopefully calm you down. After a rant to Steph about hating the frustration you felt you went to the gym to run. Running gets the anger out.

And up until now I had sworn to myself That I'm content with loneliness

This routine continued. Unfortunately leading to being taken out of the starting eleven and even sometimes getting taken out of the match day squad altogether. You weren’t an international player yet, the coach still wanted the older, more experienced players on their team. The international break closest to christmas brought viv the courage to chat to you. She had an injury so the netherlands had to play without her, leaving her with the few players left. Including y/n.

Because none of it was ever worth the risk

She spoke. You listened. It sounded like she actually cared, she wanted into your mind, she wanted you to open up. You did. Punching walls, tears streaming, voice raising. You went all out. Then she took you home, home to your safety where you automatically resumed your place under a blanket left on the couch from the day before. Viv took her place, lifting your feet onto her lap and giving them a slight massage over the blanket. Daniel raced to sit on your stomach happy to snooze off right there.

But you are the only exception You are the only exception

“Nobody’s ever been in this house apart from me and daniel. I’m glad it’s you who is here.” Although the dramatics of the morning were still clawing at the back of y/n’s mind, she was so glad it ended up in viv being introduced to her safe space. “Would you like to chat?” “I might fall asleep but i’m willing to listen to you?” And that’s how they dozed off together to Viv’s light mumbling about all she could think of.

You are the only exception You are the only exception

Listening to the sad songs through shared headphones was a magical experience but when Viv started playing them on the drive to and from work everyday on the car speakers you felt as though you were in dreamland. In the car Viv would sing along to some choruses and y/n would even let out a few hums here and there. The silent bond they had created meant the world to both of them and they both knew it but it was never said out loud. Things started to change when they carpooled together every single day.

I've got a tight grip on reality But I can't let go of what's in front of me here

We were in it together. Whenever y/n started to pull away viv’s grip on them would tighten, when viv’s injury set her back slightly y/n brought her up to breathe in some type of distraction. They started spending meals together, more than just breakfast. They’d go out for dinner or have a nice lunch at one of their homes. They’d usually end up together on a couch to see through the night, making it easier to carpool was their excuse to stay. When Viv got better and was allowed on the plane home to the netherlands on christmas eve it was a hard moment.

I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream

Waking up to viv leaving was hard. I stayed still in bed as she got changed and put her suitcase to the door. A quick, dainty pair of lips were placed to my forehead as i flickered awake. “Please don’t go it’s cold out there.” y/n whined as a weak chuckle left Viv’s mouth. “My flight is at 6, i’ll message you when i land. Merry christmas princess.” with one last hug and a pat on the head to daniel viv swiftly grabbed the rough handle of her suitcase and made it out the door.

You are the only exception You are the only exception

Waking up to snow made you almost the happiest you had been for a while. A tinge pulling on your heart at the fact someone was no longer resting on the other side of the bed. You always yearned for a white christmas but this was daniels first time even seeing snow and you knew viv would not be happy if you didn’t at least film it for her to see. So as you got wrapped up in a big cozy jumper and viv’s huge coat that she had left behind you got your phone out and started to ring her. “Hoi lieverd.” “Good morning Vivvy,” y/n said as she turned the camera to face Daniel jumping at the door. “It’s his first snow encounter, we wanted you to witness it.” The door swings open and the wee cockapoo goes running. That call lasted over two hours. They were ready to fight the toughness that came with distance.

You are the only exception You are the only exception

When did y/n finally admit feelings for Viv? As soon as they picked Viv up from the airport. It was a silent look and a quick peck that sealed the deal. No words other than an, “i missed you” were spoken, just the way they like it.

You are the only exception You are the only exception

Being with Viv almost full time for months showed y/n that Viv is quite the yapper. She can chat about football, recipes, her family, travelling, and even y/n herself for hours and hours on end. Breakfasts at training did not include headphones anymore unless it was a particularly hard day, instead the two were often caught chattering among eachother by teammates. They even started to invite a couple teammates to sit with them every now and then. Unfortunately they had to make the decision that Daniel was getting too big to sleep in their bed with them anymore so they bought him his own to put on the floor next to the shoe rack and he would be allowed in for ten minute cuddles every morning.

You are the only exception You are the only exception

Viv came into my life when i needed a lot of fixing. I am incredibly grateful for the way our connection turned me around. That christmas alone was tough but now with Vivvy i know i shouldn’t have to have another like that. I feel exceptionally lucky for her to accept me and how she makes me feel happy to fully give myself to her.

And I'm on my way to believing

Oh, and I'm on my way to believing.

Love isn’t such a horrible idea anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ sorry for the rushed ending but i hope this helps fills a bit of the gap in viv fics (we need moreee)

Thank you so much for reading 💃

#vivianne miedema #viv miedema #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #womens football #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #man city women

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sweetdreamz2 · 2 days ago

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Hidden Feelings - S. Gojo

Synopsis: where you're in a popular indie rock band with lead guitarist Satoru Gojo, but you can’t stand each other—until one fiery argument before a show shifts your relationship with him.

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: lead guitarist! S. Gojo x f! lead singer reader

A/N: i got inspiration from Isabel LaRosa's song Muse! ^-^

The studio buzzed with the usual pre-show chaos—techs running around, instruments being tuned, and last-minute lighting checks being made. Your band, Nocturnal Beats, was set to perform in just an hour, but all you could think about was the argument that had erupted between you and Satoru earlier that day.

It was always like this. For some reason, Satoru knew exactly how to push your buttons. His arrogance, his smug grin, and the way he always acted like the star of the show made you want to scream. It didn’t help that the two of you had been thrown together as the band’s dynamic duo: him as the lead guitarist and you as the lead singer. Everyone said the chemistry between you two was electric on stage, but off-stage, it felt more like you were trying not to strangle each other.

The argument had started over something small—like it always did. You’d wanted to change the setlist at the last minute, feeling like one of the songs needed a different tempo, but Satoru refused, saying that you were overthinking things. The back and forth had escalated quickly until you were both shouting, his eyes blazing with the same stubbornness you knew mirrored your own.

“You’re impossible!” you had snapped, crossing your arms as your orbs glared daggers at the blue eyed male.

“And you’re a control freak,” he’d shot back, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Why don’t you just trust me for once?”

“Because trusting you always ends up with you showing off!” you yelled. “This isn’t The Gojo Show—we’re a band, remember?”

He had scoffed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Whatever. Do what you want. Just don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”

That was hours ago, and since then, you hadn’t exchanged a word. But as you stood backstage, going over the lyrics in your head, you caught glimpses of Satoru moving around, setting up his guitar. You hated the way your eyes kept wandering back to him. You hated the way, even when you were furious, your heart still did that annoying flutter when he looked so focused. And you really hated the way his eyes occasionally flicked over to you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

Your bandmates were buzzing around, each one focused on their own tasks. Suguru, the drummer, was tapping away at his kit, a playful grin on his face as he tried to lighten the mood.

“Hey, does anyone else think Satoru and [Name] need to get a room? They’ve been glaring at each other for the last hour.”

Utahime, the bass player, laughed all the while running her fingers through her silky locks. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say they’re about to throw down on stage. But honestly, I think they’re both too stubborn to admit they like each other.”

“Yeah, well, stubbornness is what makes this band work. At least it gives us something to talk about during breaks,” Suguru replied, his voice teasing.

“Focus, guys.” You said, trying to sound annoyed, but the corner of your mouth twitched upward in a small smile.

“We need to be ready for the show.”

The tension was palpable as the band gathered for their final check. You kept your distance from Satoru, focusing on the rest of the members and making sure everything was in place. But you couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. Despite the way you two clashed, you had to admit you needed him for this performance. As much as his arrogance drove you up the wall, there was no denying that when you both played together, it was like magic. And that’s what scared you.

Just before showtime, the two of you ended up in the same cramped space near the side stage. You could feel the heat of his presence as he adjusted his strap, pretending like you weren’t standing right there. The silence was deafening.

“Look,” you finally muttered, unable to take it anymore. “About earlier… I—”

“Save it. I don’t need an apology.”

Your jaw tightened as you lifted your head to stare at Satoru. Why did he always have to act this way?

“I wasn’t going to apologize,” you snapped, and his head turned, eyes locking with yours.

“I was going to say, let’s just get through this set. We can argue all we want after.”

Satoru’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite read, but his expression softened—just a little. “Fair enough. But try to keep up with me this time.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment. “I’m the one leading. You try to keep up.”

He smirked, but there was an edge of playfulness there that hadn’t been before. “You know, one of these days, you’re going to realize I’m not your enemy.”

“And you’re going to realize I’m not just some obstacle for you to show up,” you countered, but your voice lacked the bite it usually carried.

There was a moment, a flicker of something between you two—like the eye of the storm. His eyes, usually so infuriating, held a softness that made your heart trip over itself. For a split second, it felt like there was no one else backstage, no buzzing chaos, no band waiting for the two of you to start. It was just him, and that infuriatingly perfect grin.

“Five minutes!” a stagehand suddenly called, breaking the spell.

Satoru straightened up, his expression slipping back into his usual confidence, but not before you caught the slightest hesitation in his eyes.

“Guess we’ll have to finish this conversation later,” he said, his voice lighter.

You nodded, your throat feeling tight as you adjusted your mic. “Yeah. Let’s just get through this.”

As the lights dimmed and the crowd’s roar grew louder, you stepped on stage, with Satoru only a few steps behind. The first chords rang out, and as the spotlight hit you both, all the tension from before seemed to evaporate, replaced by that same electric energy that always surged when you performed together. You moved in sync, the music flowing effortlessly between you, and for those few moments, it felt like everything was right.

But as the final song approached, the one that always brought you both to the front of the stage, Satoru did something different. Instead of playing his usual riff, he turned to you, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

“You’ve always said I show off too much,” he called into the mic, a playful edge in his voice. The crowd cheered, but you felt your breath catch.

“So this one’s for you, doll."

He began playing a softer, slower melody—one that wasn’t on the setlist. It was something new, something he must’ve come up with in the hours after your fight. As his fingers slid over the guitar strings, his usual bold, flashy style softened into something gentle and intimate. Each note was deliberate, his hands moving with a grace that seemed to surprise even him. The melody he created was raw and hauntingly beautiful, something delicate yet charged with unspoken emotion. The sound was unlike his usual show-stopping solos—it was stripped down, almost vulnerable, as if he was bearing a piece of himself through each chord.

You felt the lyrics rise in your throat, instinct taking over as you harmonized with his playing. The words flowed, and the crowd swayed, but all you could think about was the way his eyes never left yours. Eyes intense and filled with a silent message that reverberated through every note he played. The rhythm was steady, a slow heartbeat that pulled you in and matched the pulse between you both.

You could see the subtle concentration in the way his brows furrowed slightly, the slight flex of his fingers, and the almost imperceptible nod as he lost himself in the music. It was as if, in that moment, the entire crowd had disappeared, leaving only the two of you suspended in the space between melody and silence.

As the song reached its final crescendo, Satoru took a step closer, the gap between you shrinking until you could feel the heat radiating off him. His hand reached out until his fingers gripped the edge of your waist, gently pulling you closer, and your heart pounded so loudly you were sure the audience could hear it.

Then, as the final note hung in the air, he leaned in and kissed you.

It was like time stopped. The world around you, the roaring crowd, the bright lights—all of it faded into the background. His lips were warm, the kiss soft but full of something deep and electric. You felt yourself melt into it, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as your eyes fluttered shut.

When he pulled back, he kept his forehead resting against yours, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to read everything you were feeling. You could hear the crowd’s cheers roaring in the background, but in that moment, all you could focus on was him.

“That was… incredible,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah. Guess we’re better together after all,” Satoru whispered, a grin spreading across his face, softer than you’d ever seen.

You laughed, a little breathless, your heart still racing. For the first time, you didn't argue back. Maybe he was right.

“Maybe… maybe I’ve always known that.”

Just then, Suguru and Utahime joined you, grinning ear to ear.

“Did you two just kiss on stage?” Utahime shouted, raising an eyebrow all the while having a huge grin on her face. “Not bad for a couple of rivals.”

“About time you two figured it out!” Suguru chimed in, crossing his arms with a knowing smile. “We were starting to think you’d never stop bickering.”

You shot them a mock glare, but it was hard to stay annoyed when you felt so elated.

“Shut up! We were just—”

“Just making beautiful music together!” Satoru interrupted, his grin widening as he glanced back at the crowd, who were still cheering wildly.

As the lights dimmed and the stage crew signaled the end of the set, Satoru took your hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Looks like we’ll have to talk more about this later, huh?”

“Yeah,” you said, your heart fluttering again at the thought. “I think we have a lot to figure out.”

“Then let’s make sure we keep playing this right,” he replied, his voice soft yet full of determination.

And for the first time, you didn’t feel the urge to argue. Maybe this really was just the beginning of something more—something that would make all the bickering worthwhile.

#gojou satoru x reader #reader insert #jujutsu satoru #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #satoru gojo fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #female reader #satoru x you

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