#not meant to be taken literally by author

[littleapocalypsekitten]

I don’t even know if the author / artist is active on tumblr at all anymore...  Just... wow, this hit me with a little flashback.  The last time I remember being in a church for an actual service.  (The last actual time I was in a church was when one was a polling place and I was there to vote. For Obama).   I wasn’t a “churched kid” at all.  I just kind of got into it when I was a teenager because of weird anxieties - and...hit it hard.  Because it was within walking distance of my house in nowhere, Arizona, I was into a Baptist church.  They weren’t awful - racially diverse and no casting out of demons (whoa!), but there were still beliefs there that I now find unfortunate, to put it generously.  One of them was the “no women pastors” because of that verse.  (It was especially weird, my church did not teach it a set in stone thing, like they believed that it applied only to a time and place because of some specific conditions with the education of women in the Roman empire at the time, blah, blah, blah, so, theoretically, a woman could be called to lead and teach,  but they still followed it because, you know, Baptists).  Cue me moving to Pennsylvania and trying out a Methodist church in my new neighborhood (well, it’s an old neighborhood now, I haven’t lived there - or been to the church in over a decade).  The pastor that gets up to speak is a woman and she speaks, specifically, about the uphill climb it was against church-authority to be able to do what she felt called to do.  Her sermon was about women’s rights and stuff.  I completely agreed with it.   Yet, the entire time, I wondered “Is this wrong?” and felt uncomfortable because of what had been instilled in me before by the Baptists.  I posted about it at some place I was online at the time after it and my formerly-Orthodox Jewish friend said that she’d felt something similar when going to Temple at a place with a woman speaker. It made me feel less alone that this was.... well, kind of a thing across conservative religions, I guess, and that other people were having those weird feelings of breaking away.  You know, something that you agree with, but you wonder “Is this wrong?!” because of what you were taught previously.  

can’t believe I used to put up with this

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

i need to either never read another play or story by this author ever again or i need to go to the library and binge every single one of his many works and i honestly don't know which would be better

[lesbiansanemi]

I truly do not get the spy x family hype….

[lupinqs]

MIGRAINE ━━ paige bueckers x teammate!reader

☆ ━ summary: on big east media day, you’re unfortunate enough to get a migraine

☆ ━ word count: 2.9K

☆ ━ warnings: descriptions of migraines, throwing up

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, based off of this req

☆ ━ author’s note: two fics in one night omg WHO AM I??? also i promise this is not rlly dramatized y’all this is quite literally how my migraines are …….… wish i had a paige during them 😞

BIG EAST media day—it’s today. Usually, you don’t mind media days at all. Actually, you tend to enjoy them. But, clearly, today you’re not meant to.

As soon as the sun broke through the windows of the New York hotel, Paige had woken to the sight of your scrunched-up face, a hand pressed to your temple. You both knew what it meant: you had a migraine, and today of all days, it had to hit with full force.

Paige had immediately rolled out of bed, grabbing your migraine medication from your bag that you’d luckily remembered to bring in a “just in case” situation. However, you’d been resistant to at first, knowing full well that the medicine would upset your stomach like it always does, but Paige had insisted, forcing you to take it. “You know we can’t skip today. Just take it, baby. It’ll help with the pain.” Reluctantly, you’d taken the pills, and with an an hour, just as you were sitting in hair and makeup, the side effects hit. You’d bolted from your chair, leaving the startled makeup artist behind as you rushed to the bathroom to puke your guts up.

Paige had followed immediately, kneeling beside you in the small, cramped bathroom stall, rubbing your back as you heaved into the toilet. The nausea subsided eventually, but Paige was worried you’d thrown up all the medicine in the process. You hadn’t had time to find out, though—there were interviews to do, and you, always the professional, was stubborn enough to push through.

Now, you and Paige sit side by side, a row of reporters in front of you, microphones held up like weapons ready to attack. The lights in the gym are blinding, and the low hum of chatter, camera clicks, and reporters scribbling notes fill the space. It’s the last place you want to be.

Paige, sensing your discomfort, takes the lead in most of the interviews. She fields question after question, her voice steady and charming as she answers everything from season goals to the team’s camaraderie. Next to her, you sit rigidly in your chair, staring at the ground, fingers pressing hard into your palms as if trying to will the pain away.

Every so often, a reporter directs a question at you, and Paige watches closely, knowing that forming coherent, professional sentences is probably the last thing you want to do. Still, you force a tight smile and give a short, clipped response, voice strained but composed. The pain etched across your face is subtle, but it’s there—just enough for Paige to notice, though you try your best to keep your expression neutral.

It’s damn near agonizing for Paige to watch you like this, especially when she knows how badly you’re hurting. She can tell that the migraine’s wrecking you, she’s been there for so many at this point that she knows all the little signs like the back of her hand. She wishes she could turn the lights down, quiet the reporters, and just take you somewhere dark and silent to rest. But there’s nothing she can do—you just have to endure it.

As the interview drags on, one reporter, a man who looks younger and more inexperienced than the others and who’s clearly growing impatient with your curt answers, rudely points at you, addressing you by name before saying, “You really don’t look like you want to be here today. I mean, is something wrong with you?”

The words come out sharp and are strictly unprofessional. Your eyes flicker toward the reporter, though you can’t see half of him due to the darkness shadowing parts of your vision. You open your mouth, then close it, unsure of what to say. Your brain is hardly functioning, the throbbing in your skull is unbearable, and you can’t even muster the strength to care about his tone. All you want is for this to be over.

But Paige cares.

Her gaze snaps to the reporter, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Her posture shifts, body leaning slightly forward, protective instincts kicking in immediately. Usually, she’d stay more poised, composed, let her media training do the work for her. But she isn’t about to let anyone talk to you like that, especially not today.

“Excuse me?” Paige’s voice is sharp, cutting through the room. She’s sure that there’s a camera recording this right now but she quite literally could not care less. “What did you just say?”

The reporter, startled by Paige’s reaction, fumbles for a moment before stammering, “Um, I just mean that she looks… unwell. She’s not really answering the questions.”

Paige’s jaw tightens. “Maybe you should think before you speak next time. She’s here, answering your questions to the best of her ability despite not feeling great, and you should respect that instead of makin’ snide comments.”

The side of the gym they’re on grows even quieter, the weight of Paige’s words settling in the air. You, who’s still staring at the floor, blinks, heart swelling with gratitude. You don’t really have the energy to defend yourself, let alone sit up with your eyes open against the bright lights, but knowing Paige has your back—it’s everything.

The reporter, realizing he’s on thin ice, mutters an apology, his face turning red under the harsh lights. Paige doesn’t bother to acknowledge it, her focus shifting back to you, her hand subtly reaching out to squeeze your knee under the table.

The rest of the interview continues, but Paige’s attention is divided now. She keeps on eye on the reporters, answering questions with ease, but her other eye is always on you, watching closely. Your face has gone even paler, and every few minutes, your eyes flutter shut as if you don’t even have the strength to keep them open against the blinding pain.

Finally, the session begins to wind down, and as soon as the last question is answered, Paige is out of her chair, gently taking your arm and leading you away from the microphones and cameras. The two of you step into a hallway, away from the noise and lights, and as soon as you’re alone, you lean heavily against the wall, closing your eyes with a shaky breath.

“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your temples. “Feel like my head’s about to explode.”

Paige wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “I know, baby. You did so good, though. We’re almost done, okay? Just a little longer, and then I’m taking you back to the hotel. Dark room, no noise, just you and me.”

You nod, though even that small motion seems to cause you pain. And you pray that she does good on that promise, especially as the two of you go back into the gym. You end up sitting on a bench next to Azzi waiting, resting your head on her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to block out the harsh gym lights and constant noise. Your head throbs with a relentless pulse, nausea rolling in waves, and your entire body feels like it’s on the verge of collapse. Azzi’s softly rubbing your arm in a comforting rhythm, whispering little encouragements.

But when Geno and CD approach, apologetically telling Paige that she and you have one more interview to do, Paige immediately starts protesting.

“No. No way. I can do it by myself,” she says firmly, already standing in front of the two coaches, shielding you from them like a protective wall. “She’s not in the right state for this. Just look at her.”

Geno and CD turn their heads to look over at you. You’re still slumped against Azzi, face pale and drawn. Your lips are pressed into a tight line, and your eyes are glossed over, clearly fighting back tears of pain. It’s not a pretty sight.

“I know, Paige,” CD says, eyes soft with sympathy. “We hate this as much as you do. But this interview is important. She’s got to do it, too.”

Paige’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing. “CD, come on,” she says in what can only be called a plea. “Please—she’s hurting. She’s in pain. You’re tellin’ me we can’t work somethin’ out?”

Geno sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wish we could, kid,” he tells her. “But this is the last one, I promise. After this, you can take her back.”

Paige mutters a curse under her breath, her frustration boiling beneath the surface. She glances back at you, who’s face is so pale and worn-out that it makes Paige’s stomach twist.

“Fine,” she says finally, voice tight with defeat. “But this is the last time I’m putting her through this.”

Geno and CD both give a nods of understanding, and Paige turns, making her way back over to you. Kneeling in front of you, she places a gentle hand on your knee. “Hey,” she whispers, her voice soft with regret. “I’m so sorry, baby, but we gotta do one more interview. Just one more, and then you’re done, yeah?”

You open your eyes, and the utter pain in your expression makes Paige’s heart ache. You look like you’re damn near about to cry, eyes brimming with unshed tears, but you nod weakly anyways, ready to do what you need to even though you’ve clearly hit your limit.

Paige sighs, hating this situation more than anything. She leans in, pressing a light kiss to your forehead, hoping in vain that it might ease some of the pain within your cerebrum. “I promise, after this, I’m taking you away, okay? I ain’t letting anyone stop us.”

You nod again, swallowing hard as you fight to keep yourself in check. Paige stands, gently helping you to your feet, and together, the two of you make your way toward the interviewers, you subtly leaning on Paige as much as you can, because if you’re honest, you can’t see most of your surroundings.

The interview itself is a nightmare. The questions seem never-ending, and although Paige answers most of them, there’s still some directed only at you that you’re responsible for. Each time, you know you sound stupid, voice hoarse and response almost incoherent. The lights are too bright, the noise too overwhelming, and by the end of it, you visibly look like you’d rather die than be here.

As soon as the interview is done, you don’t even wait for Paige. You rush out of the gym, once again heading straight for a hallway where it’s at least a little bit darker. Paige hurries after you, catching up just as you half-collapse against the wall, fighting tears.

“It hurts so bad, P,” you cry raggedly. You clutch at your head, hands trembling as you press them to your temples before moving them over to your eyes, squeezing them shut and pressing your palms against them hard. “I—fuck—I can’t—”

Paige’s stomach constricts. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you close, pressing your face into her neck to shield your eyes from any and all light. “Shh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Paige whispers, making sure to be as quiet as possible, voice filled with soothing warmth. She gently rubs your back, rocking you slightly as you’re near-sobbing against her.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Paige murmurs thickly. “I shoulda fought harder to get you outta that. But I’mma take you back to the hotel now, okay? I don’t care what the fuck else we’re supposed to do today.”

You don’t respond with words, just nod weakly against Paige’s neck, fingers clutching tightly at the blonde’s shirt as if trying to ground yourself.

Paige carefully guides you to sit on a bench in the hallway, leaning you back against the cool wall. “Wait here for just a sec, okay? I’mma be right back, just gotta tell Coach and CD we’re leaving.”

You nod again, your eyes fluttering closed as you rest your head against the wall. Paige brushes her thumb over your cheek, her heart splinting all over again at the sight of you in so much fucking pain. Then, with determination in her step, Paige turns and goes in search of Geno and CD.

When she finds them, they’re in the middle of talking to a few other staff members, but Paige doesn’t care. She marches up to them, her expression set in stone.

“I’m taking her back right now,” Paige says firmly, unwavering. “I’m sorry, but I don’t care what else we’re supposed to do here. She’s in too much pain, and I’m not putting her through any more of this. And I’m definitely not sending her back by herself.”

CD looks like she wants to argue, but one look at Paige’s determined face, and Paige can tell the older woman knows it’s pointless. Geno sighs, his shoulders sagging.

“Go,” he says quietly. “Take her. We’ll handle the rest.” He gestures to himself and CD, then over to where Azzi, Ash, and Sarah stand.

Paige nods once, her gratitude unspoken but clear. She doesn’t waste another second, turning on her heel and heading straight back to you. Once she gets to you, she helps you up, wrapping a firm arm around your waist. The two of you head toward the doors and then are out into the cool air of the New York streets. The noise of the city hits you like a wall—cars honking, sirens wailing faintly in the distance, the chatter of pedestrians—but Paige moves quickly, guiding you down the sidewalk.

The hotel is technically within walking distance, but Paige refuses to put you through that. Instead, she stops at the curb, pulls out her phone, and hails an Uber.

“It’s okay,” she whispers as you press yourself against her side, hiding your face in her shoulder as the nausea rolls through you again. “‘M not making you walk, don’t worry.”

The car pulls up almost immediately. Paige helps you inside first, sliding in next to you and carefully pulling you into her side again, buckling your seatbelt for you. It’s probably the shortest car ride of either of your lives, and you don’t say a word for any of it, just continuing to rest your head on her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. Paige presses a soft kiss to your temple, reassuring you you’re almost there.

When the car pulls up to the hotel, Paige thanks the driver quickly, helping you out of the car with her hands steady on your hips. You cling to her without hesitation, your legs barely cooperating as, by this point, the majority of your body has gone numb. She doesn’t mind, though, guiding you through the lobby and toward the elevator. The ding of the doors makes you wince and Paige notices immediately. “I know, baby,” she murmurs softly, guiding you inside and pressing the button for your floor.

The ride up is quiet except for your unsteady breathing, and Paige’s grip never loosens. As soon as the doors open, she’s leading you to the room, swiping the keycard and pushing the door open in one smooth motion.

“Here we go,” Paige says gently, helping you inside. She lets you stumble toward the bed, watching closely as you basically collapse onto it with a shaky breath. Paige then moves to the windows, yanking the curtains shut until the room is bathed in near-total darkness. The relief is instant—you let out a soft sigh, your body relaxing just slightly as the pressure in your head dulls a little without the presence of light.

Paige isn’t done. She rummages through your bag until she finds your medication again, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge before kneeling next to the bed. “Hey,” she says softly, brushing your hair back from your damp forehead. “You gotta take this, yeah? It’ll help.”

You groan faintly in protest, turning your face into the pillow, but Paige doesn’t back down. “Ma, c’mon,” she coaxes, voice firm but still tender. “I know it sucks, but you gotta take it. Just one more thing, and then you can rest.”

Reluctantly, you crack your eyes open, barely able to see her face in the dark, but you feel the pill pressed gently to your lips. You take it without complaint this time, swallowing it down with a sip of water Paige helps you hold.

“Good job, baby,” she praises, pressing another kiss to your forehead. She sets the bottle on the nightstand before kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed with you, immediately wrapping her arms around you. She pulls you close, her chest flush against your back, one arm sliding under your head to cushion it while the other wraps proactively around your waist.

“I’ve got you,” she whispers softly into your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “It’s okay, baby. Just breathe. ‘M right here.”

You whimper faintly in response, you body still shaking, but you relax the tiniest bit in her hold. Paige’s touch is gentle, her thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your stomach as she tries to calm you down. She presses a soft kiss to the back of your head, murmuring sweet nothings that you can barely process through the pain.

A small sob escapes you as a particularly harsh stab to your skull hits. Paige only pulls you closer, holding you like she can absorb all of your pain into herself. “I know it hurts. I know,” she says softly, her voice cracking slightly as she wishes, more than anything, that she could take it all away for you. “But I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m here. Always.”

And she means it—Paige Bueckers would hold you through every second of the pain if it meant you didn’t have to face it alone.

[thelikesofus]

Buddie Fic Recs

Welcome to another 9-1-1 Hiatus! Here is Buddie Rec List Number 8 to keep you all fed during the break. I’ve been compiling these fics for a whileee, so this is going to be kind of long. Find my other Buddie Rec Lists HERE REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS

i slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car by @crazygirleddie | T | 4k

Buck gets sloppy drunk with Hen and decides this is the perfect time to go to Eddie and tell him he loves him. This fic is so wholesome and hilarious, and I love the way the author writes Buck and Eddie in this. 

you will get a sentimental feeling when you hear voices singin by @sergeantchenford | T | 2k

A short and sweet fic where Buck mopes about Eddie moving to El Paso, has a conversation with Bobby, and goes to a charity event. I think we all need some Bobby and Buck interactions right now, and obviously, Eddie isn’t leaving, and Chris is coming home!

my heart wants to come home by @sergeantchenford | T | 5.8k

Another fic by the very talented Jules, but this one is about Buck and Eddie catnapping an old lady's cat and talking about dying alone. Very sweet ending <3

The Bunkroom Fic by exvichan | T | 11k

This is the bunk room bottle fic we deserve! Incredible, absolutely amazing fic! 

emails i can't send by @drmellking | T | 5.9k

Another wonderful fic by my beloved friend April <3 Buck leaves his email account open on his laptop while looking after Jee, and she accidentally presses send on all the emails Buck wrote but never meant for Eddie to see. 

(we tried) we said we'd keep in touch by @chronicowboy | T | 6.8k

With Eddie in El Paso, Buck isn’t feeling the Christmas spirit this year, so he agrees to cover someone else’s shift rather than go to the FireFam Christmas party. Eddie has other plans. And I am rocking in a corner and crying over how perfect and cozy this fic is, literally all the feels xx

Songbird by @colonoscopys | E | 71k

Country Singer Eddie AU that is so horrendously heartbreakingly horrifically incredible. My heart was literally in my throat the whole time, and honestl,y this fic is so beautiful, you just have to read it!

Snickerdoodles of Longing by @elvensorceress | E | 52k

Would this really be a Meegs rec list without a Jenwyn fic?? This is the Eddie moves to Texas fic we all deserved as he makes the decision to leave and then slowly unravels as he realizes what he really wants and what he's losing. There’s also a part two of this that I have yet to read, but I can guarantee it will also be incredible because everything Jenwyn writes is just *chefs kiss*. 

A Place For You, Next to Me by @spotsandsocks | M | 23k

I have very talented mutuals, okay, so here’s a beautiful fic from the wonderful Spotty. Buck decides to do something special for Eddie’s birthday, but his plans are about to be thwarted because oh my goodness THERE’S ONLY ONE BED *cheers and screams from the fandom* 

Five Years by aubrey_writes | M | 8k

Buck gets blipped. Eddie's left behind. A love story told through what Eddie did in his absence. 

A Hole in the World by @thatdisasterauthor | T | 61k 

Buck tries to help someone having what he thinks is a medical emergency while he’s at the grocery store, but his kindness is taken for granted when he is KIDNAPPED AND TAKEN CAPTIVE IN A DOOMSDAY BUNKER. This fic had me on the edge of my seat the whole way through, it is such an incredibly captivating read!

Fears and Assurances in Equal Measure by @thatdisasterauthor | M | 15k

It should've been a simple call. But when the "small fire in an apartment kitchen" turns into a collapse that traps Eddie as the fire continues to burn, Buck is forced to make an impossible choice to save the man he loves. The emotional and physical hurt/comfort in this is to die for <3

it hit me in the kitchen by @bugsongs | G | 13k

Eddie leaves for Texas, and everybody copes with food in one way or another. There’s so much good Eddie and Christopher communication in this fic, it really healed me. 

forever is the sweetest con by @becausebuckley | E | 37k

Buck is invited to a family reunion and realises that there's a good chunk of money waiting for him. There’s one issue, though: he has to be married to claim it, and right now, he’s painfully single. It’s a good thing he has such a great best friend in eddie, right? MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE! EVERYONE LIKES THAT!

like a river runs by @nymika-arts | T | 56k

Buck and Maddie’s flight goes missing, and they are presumed dead. Five years later, their flight lands unscathed, but the world has moved on without them. This fic is so heartbreaking. I had my heart in my throat the whole time, but it is also so beautiful. 

a straight guy and an ally walk into a bar… by @songbvrd | M | 23k

After Buck gets dumped, he remembers he agreed to go to Abby's wedding with a date. Eddie steps up and pretends to be his boyfriend. All hell breaks loose.

Batting a Buck & Change by @cal-daisies-and-briars | T | 15k

Eddie and Chim embark on a “Dad’s night out” to watch baseball at a sports bar, and after a few too many, Eddie accidentally lets his feelings for Buck slip. EddieChim Bestism my beloved. Honestly, this fic is so much fun, and I am obsessed with all of it!

In a Moment of Clarity by @thekristen999 | T | 14k

As the jeep rounded a sharp bend, its tires suddenly lost traction, sending it careening off the winding road's edge. THE CRASH FIC! SO SO GOOD! Hurt Buck and Hurt Eddie, what more could you want? Delicious.

Exhibit B by @cal-daisies-and-briars | T | 10k

Seven years in the future, an adult Christopher has a chance to see his grandparents - and subsequently, his father - in a new light, on a family trip to El Paso. Oh, this fic is so good! A very much needed reflection on Eddie’s relationship with his parents, and done through Christopher’s eyes, this fic really hits you in the solar plexus in the best way possible. 

in pursuit of good health by @bisexualbellamyblake | M | 6.7k

I am a sucker for tactile idiots-to-lovers and so when I find a fic about Buck and Eddie ‘platonically kissing for the health benefits’ you best believe I devoured it!

down every road by @young-waverer | T | 4.5k

Buck realizes he needs to be with Eddie and Chris. Unfortunately for the miles on his truck, Eddie and Chris had the same idea. THIS is what happens when idiots in love who cannot commniucate try to surprise eachother but share the same braincell. 

seeing him in a new light by @tizniz | G | 1.2k

Eddie Diaz is all of us fawning over how Buck is Big and Large and BIG.

featherlight by @coldbam | G | 7k

Eddie takes up a new hobby while in Texas, identifying the birds that visit his new porch and realizes he’s in love with Buck from 800 miles away. AKA The Birding Fic and honestly I’m obsessed this is so beautiful. Also the artwork in this is STUNNING! So special shout out to @betanoiz for that. 

the bigger they are (the harder they fall) by @chronicowboy | T | 6k

This is how 8x18 should have gone. Buck and Eddie get trapped in the rubble together and finally confess a few things to eachother. 

[taeyongdoyoung]

t-t-teach me

summary: college life sucks. but at least you get to study with the hottest guy on campus... pairing: soobin x reader genre: college au, slight angst, smut, colleagues to study buddies to lovers warnings: academic setting, studying, mild allusions to anxiety/insecurities, reader is older than soobin, kissing, praise kink, size kink, handjob, fingering, lots of touching, protected sex (gasp), manipulation if you squint but it's all consensual, some lyrics references as usual author's note: someone on social media commented that soobin's "t-t-teach me" part in love language lowkey sounds like "t-t-touch me" and i couldn't get it out of my head so here we are... word count: 2.2k

Your college life is pretty boring. Study, eat, study some more, eat again, sleep, repeat. So, when your most handsome colleague (in your humble opinion) asks you to help him study for the upcoming exams, you are tempted to agree.

"Pleaseee, Y/N," Soobin begs so cutely. The way his glasses are slightly tilted doesn't help your case. "I can even pay you!"

"I don't want your money, Soobin," you shake your head, determined to play with him a little longer. After all, it is not every day that such a hot guy acknowledges your existence.

"What do you want, then? I'd do anything, I really need to pass, my whole future depends on it."

"Well, shouldn't you have studied throughout the year?" you tease him. "Instead of, I don't know, partying or whatever it is you and your squad do."

"I don't even go to parties. I'm just in my dorm playing games all the time."

"Case in point," you tsk, pretending to be disappointed.

"Okay, I realize I should have taken the courses more seriously, but can you please consider it?"

"What's in it for me?"

"I told you already, the sky is the limit. Just t-t-teach me the material," he stammers sweetly. "When the professors do it, I literally can't focus and understand anything."

"You do realize this isn't an easy task, right? We have less than a month until finals. Even if I do help you study…I can't promise you'll pass."

"Where's your confidence, teacher?" Soobin pouts.

"I haven't agreed yet!"

"Oh, but you just did," Soobin is too adorable to say 'no' to.

So, this is how it starts. Every day, after your lectures end, you go to Soobin's dorm to study. You use every method that has been helpful for you throughout the years. Highlights, flashcards, quizzes, you try everything and anything in order to help Soobin understand the material. At the end of each week you prepare a short test that is meant to aid Soobin in revising the most important information. The first week, his results are disastrous. You honestly don't see any hope but you promised him you'd try your best so you keep modifying the material in order to improve his understanding. The second week, his results are still below average, but slightly better. By the third week, he has definitely reached the expected pass level.

"My God, Soobin, this is amazing progress!" you praise him honestly.

"Really? You think I'd be able to pass?" he asks, still worried about the upcoming exams.

"If you keep up the great work, you surely will," you are confident that he'll make it. "We have one more week until the first exam, I'm sure we'll manage to cover some more ground and revise the essentials."

"Yeah, I think there's still enough time to stick to the plan you made," Soobin nods thoughtfully.

"Here's an idea that might be motivational. If you pass all your exams, I'll reward you."

"Reward me how?" Soobin eyes you curiously.

"However you like."

"What about me paying you back?" Soobin reminds you of the original deal.

"You can just buy me dinner at that sushi place near the university," you suggest simply.

"Sounds good. I'll do my best to pass."

"I know you can do it!" at this point, you genuinely believe in him and are amazed to see how much he's improved.

The exam period starts sooner than you'd like and you now have less time for your study sessions with Soobin, prioritizing individual preparation instead. Honestly, you kind of miss seeing his pretty face every day and explaining things to him. Talking about the material out loud has been helpful for you, as well. The final exams pass by in a flash and now you only have to wait one more week for the results to come out.

"How do you think you did?" you ask Soobin on the phone.

"Ugh, don't ask," he complains. "Even though I felt like we covered all the material, having to explain it in my own words and provide examples was so draining. I have no idea how I did but don't get your hopes up."

"I see," you reply with a sigh.

"I'm not gonna ask how you did, because I'm pretty sure you nailed them," Soobin shuts down any possibility of boasting before it even started.

"Hey, the exams were pretty difficult for me, too," you mumble shyly.

"Yeah, yeah, talk to me again when you flaunt those 100 points."

"Just because I tend to get high results most of the time, doesn't mean I don't struggle," you express your feelings a little harsher than intended.

Soobin is stunned into silence.

"Sorry, that was insensitive of me to say. I guess I never realized how much effort you put into studying."

"It's okay, I'm used to being misunderstood," you answer sheepishly.

"Just because you're used to it, doesn't make it okay. Get some rest. You sure deserve it."

"You too, Soobin."

And with that, the phone call ends. Tensions run high as you anxiously check your email once every two hours for results. You probably care more about this than you should. Only this time your own results are not the only thing on your mind. You really want Soobin to be satisfied with the work he's done. Because you feel like you poured more energy into helping him and you would really hate to see him fail. Not only because you'd feel responsible for it, but because you genuinely like him and want to see him happy.

After what feels like forever, the results are out. Of course, you can only see your own due to privacy reasons. But you know Soobin has also received the same email as every other student. It is only the content that varies. You quickly check your stats and though you didn't get a 100 points everywhere, as Soobin jokingly suggested, you are still pretty proud of yourself. You eagerly grab your phone, meaning to call Soobin when you stop yourself in the last second.

What if he didn't pass all the exams? What if he doesn't want to talk about it? So, instead, you wait until he contacts you first. Luckily, you don't wait long.

"Come over" is the simple message he sends you.

You put on a jacket and practically sprint to his dorm. Is he okay? Is he inviting you over to celebrate or to drink his sorrows away? Your mind races and so do your legs as you near his room. A hesitant knock on his door. A quiet "It's open".

You cautiously enter and study Soobin's expressions in an attempt to read the room. He doesn't look depressed but he doesn't look ecstatic either. What's going on? You just need to know, the uncertainty is killing you.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Soobin asks you coldly.

"Uh…good news?" you mumble, feeling more nervous about whatever he has to say than about your own results.

"Good news is I passed all my exams. I got between 60 and 75 points on most of them."

"That's…incredible! Congratulations, Soobin!" you exclaim proudly. "I'm really happy for you! Wait…what are the bad news, then?"

"The bad news is…you promised me a reward," he whispers darkly.

"Why is that bad news?" you are utterly confused, as you sit down on the couch next to him. "You deserve to be rewarded, you worked so hard to accomplish this."

"That's true, but…I'm not sure you'll like the way I want to be rewarded."

"Anything is okay," you vow, not knowing what's in store for you. "I'll keep my word."

"Oh, I know you will," Soobin smirks and crashes his lips against yours, shocking you completely. Is this really happening? Did you just…both pass all your exams and are now kissing with the hottest guy in your university to celebrate?

"T-t-touch me," he begs so prettily who are you to reject him?

"Where do you want me to touch you?" you easily agree.

He grabs your hand and slides it under his shirt so that you are now caressing his abs. Fuck, his skin is so smooth and hard.

"You're so pretty," you mutter what you've been thinking every time you see him.

"I try to look my best for you," Soobin admits.

"Shut up," you shake your head in disbelief.

"Yes, teacher," he teases you.

"Don't call me that," you groan.

"What would you prefer? Ma'am?"

"Ugh, no, that makes me feel old," your eyes roll.

"Well, you are older than me. How about noona?" Soobin blinks cutely.

"Oh my God, do you ever shut up?"

"Touch me somewhere else," he doesn't ask this time, he demands. You don't even have the time to ask where he'd like to be touched before he's grabbed your wrist again and moves it right on top of his clothed cock. You're seriously gonna die. You're gonna die right in this moment and you won't even go to that cute sushi place. "Take my jeans off."

Your hands are shaking but you do your best to follow Soobin's orders. All your academic knowledge is completely useless in this moment. What you lack in practice, you try to make up for with enthusiasm. Stroking his length and licking him softly seem to do the trick and Soobin grows harder under your touch.

"Why are you so pretty?" you can't help but marvel.

"It's both a blessing and a curse," Soobin grunts loudly. "Wait, stop."

You immediately halt your movements, letting go of his cock.

"Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?" you ask nervously, almost getting teary-eyed at the thought.

"What? No, you're doing amazing, I just…didn't want to come yet."

"Oh, I see," you reply, even though you can't see shit. "When do you want to come?"

"Wrong question, teacher," Soobin disregards your preference for not being called that. But in this moment, you no longer care. "Replace the wh-word with another wh-word."

"Hmm," you ponder out loud. "Where do you want to come?"

"Inside you. If you'd let me."

"Erm, I'm not sure…" you try to find a polite say that you are not really interested in getting pregnant at this point of your life.

"Relax, I've got condoms," Soobin laughs at you gently. "We can save the risky activities for after graduation."

He's already thinking that far into the future?

Soobin touches your folds gently, trying to ease your worries.

"Does it feel good?"

"So good, Soobin," you confess.

"Yeah?" he smirks proudly, as his long finger stretches you open. "Bet I can teach you a thing or two myself."

"I believe you," you sigh wistfully, as you near your high.

While Soobin puts on protection, you try to think of a logical solution as to how this will work. Honestly, you are too wet to care but his enormous size is still intimidating. Your brain seems incapable of coming up with a formula, so you give up entirely. Thinking only makes it worse.

When he slides inside of you, the feeling is so overwhelming you need something to keep you from falling apart.

"Talk to me," you beg.

"What do you want me to talk about?" Soobin asks.

"Anything."

"Linguistics is the scientific study of language. The areas of linguistic analysis are syntax, morphology, phonetics and-"

"Oh my God, really?" you scoff in disbelief. "Exams are over, let's put that behind us."

"What's your love language?" Soobin wants to know.

"Probably words of affirmation. What's yours?"

"Same. Quality time, as well," he responds.

"Oh yeah, definitely," you agree.

"You're taking me so well," Soobin immediately puts the newfound knowledge to use.

"You're fucking me so well," you whisper sincerely.

And this is all it takes for you two burst in each other's arms, experiencing pleasure like never before.

Once you've dutifully helped clean each other up and are cozied up underneath the sheets, the time for a more serious conversation arrives.

"I don't wanna lose this," Soobin gestures in the air between the two of you.

"We can keep studying together," you reply dumbly.

"That's not what I meant," Soobin chuckles. "Wanna spend time with you. We don't have to be studying, we can watch movies and I can teach you how to play games and…other stuff."

"I like the sound of that," you smile warmly.

"Actually, I have a confession to make," Soobin blurts out.

"Oh?"

"Deep down, I knew I'd pass the exams somehow," Soobin whispers. "I just couldn't be bothered to study. Needed an excuse to get close to you."

You can't even be mad at him.

"I have a confession, as well," you say in return. "I agreed to help you because I wanted to know more about you. I could tell you're smart."

"Is it the glasses?" Soobin pouts adorably, tilting his head to the side.

"Nah, you just give off that…sexy nerdy vibe. Glasses or no glasses."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is. From one nerd to another."

"I can live with that," Soobin flicks your nose playfully.

"You still owe me sushi, by the way. For helping you study."

"Oh, teacher. Sushi is not the only thing you'll be eating tonight."

The End

[andvys]

The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter eleven

⭐︎ And I'll fear no evil because I'm blind to it all

Warnings: gore gore gore, violence, blood, death, murder, angst, mentions of sexual assault, threats of r*pe (it does not happen), literal slaughter, read this chapter with caution, it's a very heavy one. one character turns into a killer, not giving away who ofc. hurt/comfort in the end

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: In the haze of your distraction, you let your guard down and the monsters you have warned your friends about catch up to you — and now you will have to pay… in one way or another.

Word count: 11.7k+

Author’s note: This chapter is a wild ride, and it’s not an easy one to read! Be prepared for some heavy angst — but it will only get better from now on hehe. @hellfire--cult and I are evil cackling knowing how shocked you all will be after this one! As always, give her some love for coming up with the sickening chapter with me and for beta reading and working on this one with me! 🤍

series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter

☀︎

Steve awakens to the feeling of something tickling his nose causing him to scrunch it up. The feeling continues. He brings his hand up to his nose and rubs it before he drops his arm again, bringing it back to its original position – around something or someone. 

He registers the warmth, the weight of a body against his own. A sweet scent fills his nose and he can’t help but breathe in deeply. It’s your scent. It’s your body against his, and it molds into him like it was meant to. 

He peeks one eye open. There’s no sun shining through the blinds today, and the grey clouds outside make the RV seem darker than usual. 

Steve’s chest heaves strongly when he looks down at you. You are sleeping heavily still, your cheek is squished against his chest, your hair is covering your face, and your hand is on his waist. 

He breathes in shakily as his heart starts thumping strongly. He’s got you completely wrapped in his embrace, one arm is under you, and the other wrapped around you tightly, like he was afraid to let you go in his sleep. 

But just like the other times you have shared a bed, he slept peacefully, unlike ever before. He wasn’t plagued by nightmares, by pictures of his best friend getting ripped away from him and torn into pieces. He didn’t wake from dreams of losing Eddie, Nancy or… you. 

He just slept and he dreamed – normal dreams. He knows it is your presence that calms him, that takes away the fear in him, that makes him feel safe. He knows it should make him happy, but it only worries him.

Steve watches you, his hand slowly moving up to your face to push away your hair. His lips curl into a smile as you lean into his touch, sighing softly in your sleep. Your eyelashes flutter, and you press yourself further against him, making his heart flutter.

Screwed. He is screwed. 

The bed dips faintly under him, he goes to turn around, only to feel the tiny paws on his shoulder. The wolf pup must have escaped your embrace to explore the RV. You have taken such good care of it yesterday, it only made Steve’s case worse to see you take care of the lost little pup. 

You sat outside by the fire for what seemed like forever, warming up the pup and feeding him with some canned meat. You hoped for the mother to appear; you even whistled in hopes that it would attract her attention, but she never came. So you took him into the RV, wrapped him in your blanket, and held him against your chest. Steve joined you moments later. He lied down with you and you talked for what felt like forever. It wasn’t his plan to fall asleep, let alone cuddle you in his sleep, but he won’t lie and act like it doesn’t feel good, like it doesn’t feel right. 

He held you all night, you and the pup who found comfort in your embrace, just the way he did too. 

A chuckle falls from Steve's lips when the pup jumps on top of you, wobbling on his paws as he balances on your shoulders and leans down to rub against your cheek, making you scrunch your nose up in your sleep. 

“Hey buddy,” Steve chuckles as he lifts his hand to pet him, his palm is twice the size of his little head. The pup suddenly jumps at him, attacking him with licks to his forehead. 

“Whoa!” Steve laughs softly as he furrows his eyebrows and shuts his eyes as the pup licks his eyebrow. “That’s–” He laughs as he starts rubbing against his cheek. 

All the movement and the laughter make you stir against him. You open your eyes slowly, furrowing your brows as you take in the sight before you. An instant smile appears on your face, your heart fluttering at what you’re seeing first thing in the morning.

The wolf pup is on top of Steve, rubbing against his face, purring. And Steve is chuckling softly, holding him. His hair is messy, and his eyes are still sleepy. He looks so cute. 

You feel his arm under your body, and you realize just how close you actually are, how you fell asleep in his arms the night before. Your cheeks heat up, and your stomach jumps weirdly. It’s not the first time, it’s the third time, but unlike those other times, you had no reason to fall asleep in the same bed or all cuddled up. 

You are not complaining though; if it was up to you, you’d have this every night. 

“Good morning, sunshine.” 

His voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You look back into his eyes. He is smiling at you, making your heart flutter even more because you can’t help but wonder what it would be like if you woke up together as something more than friends — if he pulled you closer and his lips met— 

The pup jumps at you so suddenly, you fall back into the pillow behind you, making Steve chuckle again. 

“Oh my god,” he laughs as he watches the pup attack your face the way he did to him just moments ago, before he nuzzles into your neck. 

“I think my heart is going to explode,” you whisper as you wrap your hand around the puppy. “He is so stinking cute.” 

Steve pushes himself up onto his elbows, watching you with a smile on his face, how the pup cuddles you, how it nuzzles against you, like you’re the mother. His heart warms at the sight of it in a way it never did before. 

“He loves you.”

You pout at his words, your eyes softening. 

“He loves you too,” you whisper.

“Nah,” Steve shakes his head, still smiling. “Not like that. He feels safe with you.” Just the way he does. 

“I wish I could keep him,” you say as you push yourself up, holding the pup against your chest. “But I have a feeling his mother is still around.” 

Steve nods, “yeah. We should stay put another day, if we don’t find her, we leave.”

You nod in agreement, though you can’t hide the sadness in your eyes. You know you shouldn’t have gotten attached to the pup as quickly, but you did. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, reaching for your hand. “Maybe we’ll find you a dog puppy someday.” 

Warmth rushes through you as he squeezes your hand. You so badly want to entwine your fingers with his. 

“Yeah,” you smile, nodding. “I always wanted a dog, a big one.” 

“Yeah? What kind?” 

You shrug, looking down at the pup cuddling against you. “A german shepherd.”

“Then we’ll find you a german shepherd, Sunshine.”

“Really?” 

Steve sees the way your eyes light up at his promise and it only causes his smile to widen. 

“Yeah, unless we don’t find his mother, then we’ll keep this little buddy.” He whispers, petting the pup. “You think we can raise him like a dog?”

“Oh yeah! If wolves are raised around people and get proper training, they’re basically like dogs! Just with sharper teeth and more strength.” 

“You know a lot about them?” Steve smiles, raising his eyebrows. 

“Kinda, I guess? They’re my favorite animals.”

“Oh?” 

Steve looks surprised, and it confuses you. 

“Why do you seem so surprised?” 

He shrugs as he turns on his side, moving closer to you. 

“I don’t know. I just thought you’d like something uh… more tame.”

You squint your eyes at him, tilting your head to the side. “Tame? Like what, a sheep?” 

Steve chuckles, growing a little nervous under your gaze. He shakes his head, “no, not a sheep. I thought that maybe your favorite animal would be a kitten or a duckling.” 

“Oh! So you thought that I’m too soft to like a wild animal?” You chuckle, shaking your head at him. 

“No, no. It’s just…” He pauses, trying to think of the right words to say. “It’s just… you are soft– not in a bad way!” He panics as his eyes suddenly widen, and he looks like he is afraid that he said the wrong thing again. 

You keep your face straight, enjoying his struggle… a bit too much. 

“In a good way, in a… a pure– not like that… fuck.” He sighs, bringing his hand up to his face. “Just in a good way.” 

You can’t hold back your giggles when you notice the fear in his eyes and how he must think that he offended you. 

His shoulders slump, and he relaxes when he realizes that you aren’t offended by his words. 

“Oh Steve,” you murmur as you reach out to him, tapping his nose. “You still think I’m some soft, pure thing. You think that I’m a sheep, don’t you?” 

“No,” he shakes his head. “Not a sheep, certainly not a sheep.”

No, you could never be that, especially not by the end of this day. 

“Alright,” you mumble, still amused by his panicking. You sit up and take a look out the window. The pup gets off you and jumps from the bed. “Wow, the weather looks nice today,” you frown at the grey clouds. 

“Yeah.” Steve mumbles as he sits up too. 

“Let's get some coffee, and some food for baby over there.” You nudge your chin towards the pup sniffing on the fridge. 

Steve chuckles, “we should probably give him a name.” 

“Not yet.” You shake your head. 

“Eddie called him Ozzy already.” 

You roll your eyes, “yeah uh no! Not happening!” 

You scoot to the edge of the bed and lean down to put on your shoes. You tie your laces and push yourself up when Steve stops you, reaching for your hand. You look down at it, eyes stuck on his large hand enveloping yours. His warmth inviting as always. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers softly, looking up at you. 

You look into his eyes. All the amusement is gone, his face is serious again, his lips curled into a soft frown. 

“Are you feeling okay?” 

You furrow your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side again. 

“What do you mean?” 

“After yesterday… After our conversation a-and after you jumped into the water?”

Your heart flutters at the way he cares, at the softness in his eyes, and his touch. 

You nod, giving him a genuine smile. 

“Yeah, Steve. I feel okay, I feel good actually.” You squeeze his hand, promising him that. 

“You’ll let me know if that changes, okay?” He says softly, giving you a pointed look. 

“I will,” you whisper with no hesitation. 

Steve squeezes your hand back. He looks into your eyes for a moment longer before he tilts his head down, looking at your joined hands, at the way your hand fits into his… so perfectly. Something in him stirs, something in him yearns to keep holding on, to pull you closer. 

He clears his throat and lets go of your hand, “alright, let’s go grab some coffee.”

The pup is the first to jump out the moment Steve opens the door of the RV. 

Nancy and Eddie are sitting in front of the small fire, each with a cup of coffee in their hands, a map on the ground before them. Eddie looks up, his eyes lighten up.

“Ozzy!” He grins as he puts his coffee down to pick up the pup. 

Nancy laughs beside him when she sees your disapproving expression. 

“His name is not Ozzy!” 

Eddie ignores you as he pets the pup, “don’t listen to her, you got the most badass name, Ozzy.” 

Steve watches the way you roll your eyes and the way you try to hold back your smile. He chuckles softly and turns around, giving Nancy a nod as he reaches for the coffee pot. He pours you a cup first and hands it to you before he pours his own. 

Silence settles between you all for a moment. Eddie lifts his blanket over the pup before he continues to pet him, smiling brightly. 

Nancy tries to put her focus back on the map but finds herself distracted by you and Steve. Her curiosity is too big as she looks between you both. She watches the way Steve puts sugar in your coffee and the way you steal glances at him while he isn’t looking. 

A smile tugs on her lips when she sees him do the same, stealing glances when you’re not looking. 

How didn’t she notice before?

“So what’s the plan for the day?” Eddie speaks up after a few minutes of silence. 

Steve glances at you, eyes meeting yours. 

“We thought we’d stay here for another day, see if we can find the mother or if she finds him,” he explains as he gestures to the pup in Eddie’s lap. “And uh, you two can get some rest for now, get some sleep. Sunshine and I are gonna check out the nearby town afterwards.” 

Nancy lifts her mug to her lips, nodding at both of you, “sounds like a plan.” 

“And if we don’t find the mother?” Eddie asks, looking a little too excited at the thought of it. 

“Then we keep him.” 

Eddie’s eyes lock with yours. He wants to keep the pup just as much as you do. 

“We’ll fight over the name if we do, right?” He murmurs, squinting his eyes. 

“Mhmm,” you nod. 

Steve chuckles at the two of you. He looks down into his coffee. He can see his reflection in the dark liquid, he looks away. 

“You can give him two names,” Nancy shrugs as she gets up from her seat. She leans down and picks up the map. Pointing at you, she looks at Eddie, “she gets to pick first, she saved him.” 

Eddie’s eyes widen, a frown making its way on his face, “that’s not fair, you are just saying that because she’s a girl.” 

“That’s such bullshit,” Nancy chuckles as she continues her way to the RV. “Now get your ass up, we gotta catch up on sleep.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie mumbles as he gets up as well after putting the pup down, he pets his tiny head, “keep these two on their toes will ya, bud?” 

Eddie winks at you before he looks over at Steve, wiggling his eyebrows, “have fun playing mom and dad.” 

Steve gives him a deadpan look, sighing in annoyance. 

But you pretend not to hear, not wanting to blush in front of Steve now. You busy yourself with your coffee.

“C’mon,” Nancy calls out to him as she opens the door. “Before I take the bed.”

Eddie skips up the stairs, chuckling. “I don’t want it anyways, who knows what happened there last night.” He says loudly before he shuts the door. The last thing you hear is Nancy’s laughter. 

You choke on your coffee as your eyes widen. 

Steve leans forward, ignoring Eddie’s comment. He pats your back, “you okay, Sunshine?” 

You nod your head quickly, blinking away the tears that built up in your eyes as you start coughing. 

“Peachy.” You manage to croak out after a moment. 

From the corner of your eye, you notice movement in the window. You turn towards it and find Eddie looking out, wiggling his eyebrows at you as he puckers his lips, making kissing movements as he points between you and Steve. 

Your eyes widen, and your cheeks heat up strongly, burning hotly even beneath the cold wind. 

Right. You forgot that you haven’t talked to him yet after yesterday, when he called you jealous after you found out about Steve and Nancy’s history. 

You shake your head at him, wanting nothing more than to flip him the bird. 

You see him laughing. 

God. This is gonna be a long day. 

-

The RV is filled with nothing but silence as Eddie wakes up hours later. He opens his eyes and stares up at the ceiling, feeling tired still. A weird, unsettling feeling pulled him out of his sleep. 

He swallows the lump in his throat as he pushes himself up, placing his palm against his beating heart, and he looks around. He tries to remember his dreams, if a nightmare had left him feeling weird, but he can’t recall it. 

Nancy isn’t sleeping anymore, she isn’t around the RV at all, but he can hear the movement outside. He peeks out the window to see her cleaning her gun. He closes his eyes and breathes out in relief. 

Despite being stuck in this world, he rarely feels unsettled. He rarely feels fear nowadays, which is surprising considering he almost died because of it. He used to run from things, he used to wake from nightmares covered in sweat, he used to feel crippling anxiety. It’s not like that anymore. He doesn’t know what it was that changed him, if it was a sudden surge of strength and confidence or if it was Nancy’s presence or something entirely else. 

But he is not the guy who woke in fear every day, not anymore. So he feels nothing but confused as the unsettling feeling in him continues to spread. 

“Calm down, Munson.” He mumbles to himself as he rubs his chest. He makes his way into the bathroom and splashes some cold water into his face before he puts his jacket and his shoes back on. 

When he walks outside, he takes an immediate look around, hoping that you and Steve haven’t left yet. 

His shoulders slump in relief when he finds the two of you on the field with the pup, playing with him as you and Steve throw sticks for the pup to catch.

Eddie takes a deep breath before he makes his way down the stairs, he glances at Nancy, “can’t sleep?” 

Nancy shakes her head. Her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as she continues to clean her gun, polishing it. “Took an hour nap, woke back up. It’s not my day, I think.”

Eddie nods in agreement, he looks around, eyeing the snow covered field, the road nearby, and the forest that suddenly feels eerie to him. Nothing is moving, the wind isn’t howling the way it usually does. The silence is unsettling, adding to the feeling growing inside of him. There is a fog spreading as the grey clouds grow darker. 

The darkness will bring nothing good. 

“I think we should hit the road.” 

Nancy’s movements stop, she looks into the fire for a moment before she looks up at him. Her blue eyes flashing with concern when she sees the look in his eyes. 

“What? We said we’d–”

“I know what we said,” Eddie mumbles, glancing towards you and Steve, neither of you seems affected by the darkening clouds. 

“Is everything okay?” Nancy frowns. 

Eddie breathes in deeply, continuing to look around as though in search of something, for danger. 

“Yeah, just… have a bad feeling about the weather.” He lies. He wishes it were only that. 

Nancy doesn’t believe him; she can see right through him. She gets up and throws her gun on the chair. 

“Eddie.” Her voice is stern. 

He gulps, bringing his hand up to his chest again, which she notices right away.

Her frown deepens, and she shakes her head at him, “what is it?” She asks a little softer now, bringing her hand up to his upper arm. “You were fine before. What happened? Did you have a nightmare? Are you dealing with panic attacks again…?” She whispers softly. 

Eddie shakes his head, sighing. 

“No,” he murmurs as he stares at her, intensely. “I just… I just think we should leave this place.” 

She presses her lips into a thin line as she looks into his eyes, trying to figure him out, trying to figure out the fear lingering in them, but it only infects her as well. She doesn’t understand where this growing fear is coming from or why, but it makes her feel unsettled too. 

She looks into the forest and then at the clouds in the sky. Grey. Nothing but grey clouds. No red in them, no lighting surging through them. A part of her feels relieved. The other part feels a kind of fear she hasn’t had to deal with yet. 

Nancy takes a deep breath as she slowly looks towards the field, but you and Steve are no longer there. 

“If the wolf mother was around, she would have been here by now. We should go; there is no use staying here any longer.” 

Nancy looks back at him. 

“We’ll stop in the town down the road, and then we’ll get back on main.” Eddie speaks sternly, which surprises her, not knowing this side of him. “I’m not accepting any no’s.” 

She is a little taken aback when he brushes past her and turns his back to her, walking along the RV as his eyes are set on the field, “I’m gonna get Steve and–”

“Eddie.” 

“You heard what I said, Wheeler–”

“Eddie!” 

Only as she says his name a second time, does he pick up on the trembling in her voice, the fear. 

He halts in his tracks. Staring down into the snow, he feels the hairs on his neck stand up, goosebumps rising without him knowing why she sounds so afraid all the sudden. He doesn’t know what to expect when he turns around, but the fear grips him tightly. 

He feels the threat without having to look. 

Eddie slowly brings his hand up to his belt as he turns around. His eyes widen as his heart lurches to his throat when he meets Nancy’s panicked gaze, when he sees the gun to her head and the woman standing behind her. 

“Don’t even think about it, boy.” The woman calls out to him, her eyes stuck on his hand. 

He instantly reaches for the gun in his belt when the sound of a gun cocking behind him makes him freeze. 

“Nuh uh.” A man’s voice murmurs behind him, “drop the gun or this pretty girl right there will be covered in the remains of your brain.” 

He feels the gun against his head now. He sees the fear in Nancy’s wide eyes. He feels his own fear eating at him. The despair clinging to him now. 

“Take whatever you need and get the fuck out of here.” Eddie says through gritted teeth, feeling a surge of anger rushing through him. 

The man behind him chuckles. 

“I don’t think you’ll like what I’m here for.” 

Eddie’s face curls in disgust and in rage. He hasn’t even seen him yet, but he can tell what kind of man he can expect. 

Nancy’s hand is shaking, her eyes are filled with fear as she looks over Eddie’s shoulder before her eyes lock back with his. 

She wants to fight. She wants to fight so badly but she is crippled with fear. 

“Oh, this is gonna be fun.” 

Eddie’s head snaps up at the third voice. A guy walks around the RV, brushing past the woman and Nancy. A gun is strapped to his thigh, a machete in his hand. He is around their age. Tall, dark hair, a wicked look on his face that shows Eddie nothing but cruelty. 

The woman shared the same expression as him. 

The guy stops, sparing Eddie a glance before he puts his attention on Nancy. His eyes roaming her figure as he brings his machete up to her face, tilting her chin up with the blade. 

So those are the monsters you have told him about. 

“Don’t touch her!” Eddie snaps at him as the fear wears off and the anger grips at him. “I swear to god, don’t fucking touch her or I’ll–”

Before he can even finish his sentence, he gets pushed and thrown to the ground. He barely gets to recover before he feels the heavy boot stomping on his back, forcing him to stay down. 

“Let him go!”

“Tie these two up, will ya, Randall?” The man keeping Eddie down orders, gun still pressed against his head. “Now… where are your little friends?” 

-

“Come on, buddy.” You whisper to the pup, petting his head, “call out to your mama, you got this.” 

Steve is standing with his arms crossed, a big smile on his face as he watches you. You are kneeling on the snow, not caring about the cold digging through your jeans. The wolf pup has been trying to howl for the past ten minutes, though with failed attempts. 

“How does one teach a wolf to howl?” You ask, looking up at Steve. 

He shrugs, “guess you gotta show him.”

He chuckles when you roll your eyes at him, “I don’t think that it would sound very cute.”

Steve kneels down beside you, looking down at the pup who rolls around in the snow instead of howling to lure in his mother. He reaches his hand out, petting his belly. 

“Maybe he picked you out to be his mother,” Steve chuckles, watching with fondness in his eyes. 

“Would that make you his dad?” You blurt out without thinking.

Steve raises his eyebrows and turns to you, amusement flashing across his face when he sees the realization of your words sink in. Your eyes widen, and you start blushing beneath his gaze. 

“I’m… I mean because he–”

“Sure.” Steve shrugs. 

Your words get caught in your throat, and your cheeks heat up further. Something stirs in your chest as you look into his eyes, something deep, something hopeful. 

He doesn’t look away from you like you expect him to; he stares into your eyes just the way you stare into his. His gaze causes your heart to stop for a moment. 

The pup jumps up and around you both, kicking some snow into your lap, forcing your attention away from Steve. A giggle falls from your lips when it jumps towards you, crawling into your lap and nuzzling against your hand. 

“You know what, Stevie might be right,” you chuckle as you pet it. “I’ll happily be your mama.” 

Steve stares at you, his eyes softening more and more. Those words made his heart skip and flutter strongly, catching him off guard a little. His cheeks heat up for some reason, probably burning a bright red. 

“Guess we’ll just have to take you with us, huh? But first I need you to howl, I need to make sure,” you whisper. “Just one howl, baby.” 

Steve forces his eyes from you, he looks into the forest, squinting his eyes. 

“I think if she was still around, she’d be–”

A gunshot cuts him off, echoing through the large field and the forest. 

Your blood runs cold, and you both freeze. 

The pup jumps off your lap and runs off in the direction of the forest, giving you no time to grab him. 

You and Steve turn towards each other, the looks in your eyes matching. Fear. 

No words are spoken as you both move into action. You are the first to jump up, glancing at the pup one more time before you take off. Steve is right behind you as he reaches for the knife in his belt. 

You grab your gun, clicking off the safety. You hold it tightly in your hand. Your heart begins to pound strongly against your ribcage, your throat closing up from the panic rising up inside you. 

Million thoughts run through your head. The worry for your friends coursing through you like lightning. 

You don’t know what kind of danger to expect, what kind of death you will face now. 

Infected. Creatures. Or monsters. 

You let your guard down. You let it down, and now you will pay in some way. 

You pick up the pace when you are closer to the road. Steve’s footsteps echo behind you. The snow slows you both down. Neither of you is thinking, neither of you tried to come up with a plan, there can’t be one in a moment like this. 

Your friends are in danger, that much is clear. 

You have a feeling, a hunch. That sickening realization is rushing through you before you even set eyes on what you know you will face. 

What he had never faced before. 

Your blood runs colder, and your heart stops beating completely when your eyes lock with Eddie’s first. There is a machete to his throat, his nose is bleeding, dripping down onto the pavement he is kneeling on. 

Nancy is right beside him, kneeling with her hands tied behind her back. You can see how much she is trembling, how scared she is. 

You freeze, halting in your steps as you take in the sight before you. 

Your eyes move up and down their bodies, making sure they aren’t hurt. Neither of them is shot or seriously injured, but you can tell by the dirt on their clothes and the state of their hair that they had been dragged from the RV to the road. 

Anger ripples through you, killing any fear that lived in you just moments ago. 

Three. Three of them. Four of you. 

Two men. One woman. 

One is standing behind Eddie, smiling cruelly at you as you lock eyes with him for a moment. The woman standing next to Nancy is holding a gun to her head. Her eyes are void of anything. You have encountered people like her, like them. 

And lastly, your eyes meet the ones of the guy who shot to lure both of you in. He is big and burly. A sickening smile spreads across his face when Steve steps in front of you, pushing you behind him. 

“There is no use, boy.” He chuckles as he holsters his gun. He raises his eyebrows at you, eyes moving between your face and the gun. “Put the gun down, kid.” 

You step around Steve, shaking your head as you clench your jaw. 

“Let my friends go.” You demand, tightening the hold of your gun. 

They all chuckle, sharing glances with each other – angering you further. 

Steve’s eyes move back and forth between his friends and the man who is eying you with a smirk on his face. He can see the look in his eyes from miles away, the disgustingly wide pupils. 

A mixture of rage and despair rushes through him. The panic of not knowing how to get you all out of this situation. His fist clenches around his knife, his eyes locked with Eddie’s.

“Put the gun down,” the man repeats as he motions with his hand. 

The woman shoots into the sky before she puts her aim back on Nancy’s head. 

You all flinch, Nancy especially. 

“Put your weapons down, now!” The woman orders roughly as she nudges Nancy’s head with the gun. 

Your eyes never stray away from the man, your gaze never faltering. You know he wants you scared, you know he wants you trembling in fear. 

Steve is the first to move, he throws his knife onto the ground, the blade clinking against the pavement. 

“It’s okay, Sunshine.” He whispers as he takes your gun from your hands and throws it down as well. “It’s gonna be okay.” He isn’t sure if he even believes his own words. 

“Randall,” he orders, never looking away from you either. “Tie them up.” 

“What the hell do you want!?” Steve grumbles in anger, his eyes burning with rage. “You want food? We got it, you take it and you get the hell out of here–”

“That’s cute.” The woman chuckles, shaking her head at him. “Does it look like we’re starving?” 

Steve clenches his jaw, breathing in angrily. 

“No, I suppose not.” You speak in anger as you look the man up and down. 

The guy, Randall, stops before you two. He looks down at you, holding his machete tightly in his hand. 

You know you can’t fight back now, not when there is a gun to Nancy’s head. But you feel desperate to fight back. You’ve been in bad situations before, but it never came this far. You always managed to get away before this. 

“Get on your knees.” He orders, glaring at Steve. 

You have no choice, none of you do. 

“Do I have to repeat myself?” Randall asks as he lifts his machete up to your throat. 

Your heart keeps beating strongly, not out of fear. Not now. 

Steve’s eyes flare in anger. The urge to rip the machete from his hand and handle this growing deeper and stronger. 

“Don’t fucking touch her or I’ll–”

“Or you’ll what?” Randall mocks him, catching you off guard when he delivers a punch to his cheek before he forces him to his knees and gets behind him, grabbing his wrists. 

Steve grunts in pain, and he curses under his breath. “Fucking asshole.” 

Your breathing quickens, the fire in you burning deeper and stronger. 

You slowly get on your knees, knowing there is nothing you can do about it without losing one of your friends. If you move now, there will be a bullet in Nancy’s head, and you will not lose her. 

You never break eye contact with that man before you, not even when he slowly begins to make his way towards you. You know where he wants you, he wants you to feel scared, intimidated. 

He wants you to feel like prey. 

But you are no prey. 

Your heart is racing in your chest, though no longer out of fear. You can’t explain the feeling rising in you, you have never felt anything like this before. 

You know what will happen. 

You always do. 

But anger never flared up in you so strongly. 

The sickening look in his eyes is so clear, the disgusting smile spreading further as he grins at you wickedly. You can see how much he is enjoying this, and it does nothing but add fuel to the anger and the adrenaline growing in you. 

Hatred burns in you the way it never did before, a growing lust to take him apart and feed him and his friends to the infected taking place inside of you, especially when you feel Nancy’s fear and Eddie’s despair, when you hear Steve grunt in pain. 

“I’m gonna kill you.” 

Steve glances at you, needing a moment to register that those words fell from your lips. 

“I’m gonna kill every single one of you.” 

Eddie looks into your eyes as you repeat your threat. A shiver runs down his spine when he realizes that it wasn’t a threat but a promise. There’s no emotion in your voice, no fear, no bluff, nothing. 

He can see it now, how you survived on your own for so long. 

Randall chuckles behind you as he grabs your arms forcefully, wrapping the rope around your wrists. “You know how many people threatened us? What’s a small little girl like you gonna do, huh?” He asks as he works on tying you up. 

The burly guy kneels before you, cocking his head to the side as he reaches out to touch your face. 

“Don’t touch her!” Steve snaps at him with nothing but venom in his voice as he watches them both corner you. He feels helpless and desperate. The fear in him kills him slowly as he is scared for you. “Get your filthy hands off her!”

But the man barely looks at him, he keeps his eyes on you, caressing your cheek, even as you lean away. 

“Don’t worry, man.” Randall chuckles behind you. “I’ll fuck her little brains o–”

You throw your head back against his face with force, wanting nothing more than to hurt him, to break their bones, to kill. The loud crunch gives you the outcome you were hoping for. 

“You fucking bitch!” He cries out in pain, dropping your hands and the ropes he was working on, leaving the knot unfastened. 

Before you can even react, the man before you slaps you with the back of his hand, cutting through your skin in the process. Your head hits the pavement, causing your ear to ring. 

Steve calls out your name in panic, rising to his feet, ready to fight even with his hands tied behind his back. But Randall recovers quickly as he lurches forward and kicks his knees in, forcing him back on the ground. 

“Stay the fuck down!”

Eddie says your name, calling out to you in despair. 

Nancy stares in shock as she looks between you and Steve. 

“God.” The man sighs as he looks up into the sky. “I love it when they put up a fight, makes it all even better.” He steps forward. “I’m gonna have so much fun with this pretty thing.”

Steve senses heighten, fearing for you and Nancy as the anger takes further hold of him. His gaze is on the ground as he struggles, trying to tear the ropes around his wrists. 

He freezes when he feels a hand grabbing his chin, making him look up. The man towers over him with a disgusting smirk on his face. 

Steve freezes. 

“Yeah… I’m definitely gonna have fun with you.” 

Nausea washes over him as he takes in the dilated pupils in his eyes, the perverted look that was never meant for you but for him. 

“Yeah, you look tight.” 

The bile rises in Steve’s throat as a new kind of fear he never felt before rushes through him. 

Eddie’s and Nancy’s faces grow pale, both unable to move, both feeling helpless as they watch the man grab Steve by the collar of his jacket, dragging him forward. 

“Get your hands off me!” Steve grunts through his shock, trying to fight despite the restraints on his wrists. His movements cause something to fall out of his jacket pocket, landing right by the feet of his attacker. 

“Aw, have problems breathing, pretty boy?” The woman chuckles, eying the inhaler that Steve kept in his pocket in case you ever have an attack again. 

Even after your sickness, he never removed it. 

“Let him go!” You scream, struggling as you push yourself back up on your knees, watching in panic as Steve gets dragged away. “Let him go if you want to live–”

Randall grabs your cheeks. There is blood running from his nose. Knowing that you broke it makes you feel satisfied. He kneels before you, moving close to your face. His disgusting breath hitting your cheeks. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn too. I’m gonna make your friends watch and I’ll make it extra painful for your little move back there.”

“I’m going to rip your throat out,” you spit into his face, feeling nothing but uncontrollable rage now. 

“You–” He stops, eyes growing wide at the sound echoing through the trees. 

Everyone freezes, even the man dragging Steve. He keeps his hold on him as he looks around. 

You look over Randall’s shoulder, eyes locking with Eddie’s. 

Howling. 

“Wolves?” The woman mumbles as she lowers her gun and steps away from Nancy. “I haven’t heard a wolf in–” 

A shadow moves past you, catching you off guard. 

Before any of them can blink, the woman is taken to the ground with a force she can’t fight against. She drops her gun. Her scream echoes through the empty streets as teeth sink into her throat. 

The wolf you’ve been calling out to since last night, mauling at her neck. 

Randall turns around. 

You struggle against the restraints, cutting your skin open in the process. You don’t think, you don’t have the time to. You only see one way out. The adrenaline courses through you, gripping at you tightly. 

He reaches for his gun, ready to take out the wolf. 

You lurch forward, hands still bound behind your back. You don’t see another way out. You sink your teeth into his ear, biting through it with a force that could only be triggered by a hatred and an anger you didn’t even know you could have. 

He only manages to gasp in pain, unable to even fight against you at the sudden attack. The gun drops from his hand, clashing against the ground. His blood splatters all over your face as you rip his flesh with your teeth, not caring about the weight of your action, about the metallic taste now in your mouth. 

All you feel is disgust for these people, knowing that you weren’t the first they tried to do this to, knowing that they were successful all the other times. 

Who knows how many people they have done these things to? 

Who knows how many people they have raped and murdered?

You would do anything to stop that from happening. You would do anything to save your friends, to save him. Anything. Even this. Even if it means losing yourself. Even if it means becoming a monster yourself. 

You pull away and spit out the flesh and the blood in disgust. The blood oozing from the spot his ear used to be getting all over your face and your hair. 

He brings his hand up to the side of his head, weakly. His head turns towards you as he looks at you in horror. In this moment, you see into his eyes, into his soul and you see what you have caused, but even that isn’t enough. 

You rip your hands free from the ropes and push yourself up. You reach for the gun he is weakly struggling to get to. You rip it off the ground and look into his eyes as you finish him off. Shooting into his head, not once or even twice, you shoot several bullets into his head. 

The wolf dragging the woman across the floor back and forth, doesn’t even flinch nor do your friends. 

Steve stares at you, his eyes wide just like Eddie’s and Nancy’s. You are dripping with blood, the look in your eyes not recognizable as you hold the gun in your hand. 

You slowly look up, eyes locking with the man who is still holding onto Steve’s collar. Without a second of hesitation, you move your arm up and aim at him, pulling the trigger, but the gun never goes off, the clicking sound telling you that it’s empty. 

You throw it on the ground. Your eyes search for the machete of the guy you killed. Blood drips down your chin as you lean down and grab the handle. You wrap your fingers around it, gripping it tightly. 

“I–” The man who held Steve, drops his hand and lets him go, dropping him back on the ground again. His eyes move between you and the wolf still mauling at the woman’s neck, her body just as limp as the guy you murdered. 

You look up at him, eyes flashing with an even deeper rage. His threats of what he wanted to do to Steve brought out the ugliest side of you. 

He didn’t fear you before, no one did. But the sight of you now is sickly and disturbing, you don’t have to look at your reflection to see what kind of monster would do this. 

It doesn’t matter how much height or weight he holds to you, he had lost the moment your teeth went through Randall’s neck and his blood splattered all over your face. 

The wolf growls at the man after letting go of the woman, her teeth dripping with blood just like your own. She circles him, ready to attack for you if he tries to run. 

You start walking towards him, turning him into your prey now. He should have stayed far away, he shouldn’t have put a finger on them, on him. You don’t look at Steve or Eddie or even Nancy. You don’t look at anything but your target. 

You want him to suffer, knowing what would have happened if things had gone different, knowing what he would have done to Steve. 

“We– let’s forget this,” the man speaks, clenching his jaw as he looks at you with fear in his eyes. He glances at his dead friends as he begins to back up, not even considering reaching for his gun that is still in his holster. “Okay? I’ll take my truck– and we can simply pretend we never met. Yeah!? I have so many things in my truck–” 

You swing the machete before he can even finish his sentence. You swing it between his legs, cutting through his testicles. He yells out in pain, eyes growing wide as he stares at you in horror. 

You rip the blade out and he drops to his knees, murmuring nonsense as he looks down in shock, watching his blood rush onto the pavement.

But you aren’t done. You are far from done. 

You see red. 

You see blood red. 

You made a promise and you never break them. 

Your friends watch. They watch how you start stabbing him with the machete, again and again, drawing more and more blood with each stab into his body. Draining the life out of him. Stabbing until no more grunts of pain or whimpers fall from his mouth. Even when he lies lifeless on the ground, eyes wide and void, you don’t stop. The blade rips through the flesh, blood splatters all over you until you are dripping in it. Like you want his ghost to see what a mistake it was to mess with him. 

Steve calls out your name. 

But you are lost in the haze, drowning in the hatred, blinded by everything you didn’t know lived inside of you. 

“Sunshine…”

His voice is somewhere far away, but you hear it, you still hear it. It pulls you out, he pulls you out of the trance you are in. 

You drop the bloody machete on the ground and step away. Your chest is heaving, your eyes dark and burning with despair. Your hands are dripping with blood, everything is dripping with blood. 

For a moment, you stand there, breathing heavily as you look down at the slaughter caused by your own hands. Your shoulders are rising up and down heavily as you try to catch your breath. You look down at your palms, at your fingers that are dark red. You can wash them, you can wash the blood off, but your hands are forever tainted. Your soul is too. 

You didn’t kill. You slaughtered. 

And you’d do it again. For him, you would do anything. 

An angry scream rips through your throat, and it takes every bit of power left in you. 

You step away from the body on the ground. You turn away from it, facing the other one that you killed. There is blood. Everywhere. It’s all over the ground, it’s all over your face, all over your hands. You can’t even wipe it away. 

As the adrenaline wears off and reality faces you again, you feel the sickness in your throat rising up. Your chest starts heaving, and your vision becomes blurry; you can’t breathe in anymore, and the metallic taste makes you nauseous. 

A pained whimper falls from your lips as you step away from the bodies lying around you. You stumble back into the field, not noticing the wolf pup who found his way back here, sitting in the field watching you. 

You drop to your knees, the blood drips into the snow, redness covering the white ground. You stare at it for seconds, minutes, for what feels like hours. You stare at it until the wolf who ripped the woman’s throat apart walks past you. 

You stare at it, looking into its eyes. You see your sickening reflection in them. 

It’s the mother of the pup you have saved. She knew where he was, your scent was all over him. You saved one of her own, so she saved your friends. 

A tear slips down your cheek as you watch her walk away, back to her pup, back into the forest. 

Your bottom lip begins to tremble, the saliva on your tongue building up to the point you can’t take anymore. You clutch your stomach as you puke out the lunch you have eaten earlier. 

“Take it off, Nance. Please.” Steve trembles as he struggles with the ropes around his wrists. His eyes burn with tears as he watches you lose yourself in what looks like a panic attack. 

Nancy stumbles forward, her hands are shaking after cutting through her own restraints with the knife Eddie managed to reach for. 

Once free, Steve jumps to his feet and grabs the inhaler that fell out of his jacket. He runs to you, heart pounding in his chest. Worry etched into his features. He drops to his knees beside you. 

Tears are running down your cheeks, you are trying to breathe, but you can’t. Your throat is wheezing, and your eyes are filled with panic. 

“Sunshine,” Steve whispers, his own voice trembling. “I’m here. I’m here, you hear me?” He is desperate. Grabbing your bloody cheeks, he forces your attention on him. 

“I’m here, Sunshine.” He repeats, moving closer to you in the snow. “You have to breathe with me, okay… baby?” He whispers as he hands you the inhaler, in case this is what you need. 

You nod quickly and grab it. 

“Steve…” 

Your whimper breaks his heart, the whole sight before him breaks his heart. 

Nancy and Eddie watch from the side, their own faces pained. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m okay.” Steve whispers to you as he grabs your hand and brings it up to his chest. “We’re all okay.” 

You look down at your hand on his chest, at the blood you are getting all over him. You pull away and try to rub it off. You won’t calm down until you get it all off you. 

Nancy senses your distress and she wastes no time to make her way over to you. “Hey…” She calls out to you softly, getting down beside you, she places her hand on your back, whispering your name. “Come with me. We’ll get you cleaned up, okay?.” She takes your arm softly, gesturing to the blood you can’t get off. 

You sniffle as you nod quickly. 

Nancy helps you to your feet, wrapping her arm around you. 

Steve watches with a worried look on his face. He rises to his feet, reaching his arms out to you. He takes your hand and gives it a strong squeeze before Nancy leads you away. 

He doesn’t want to let you go, he doesn’t want any distance between you, not now. But Nancy pulls you away and towards the RV. 

Steve follows, not planning on following you both inside, but he just needs to be close. 

“Steve…” Eddie murmurs as he starts walking after him, ignoring the bodies on the ground. 

“I’m fine.” Steve mumbles, only really caring about you at this moment. He feels angry and weak. He watched someone hit you, he watched while he was dragged away, and he was unable to fight back. 

He swore to himself that he would protect you, that he would protect his friends – he did none of these things. 

Eddie picks up the pace, walking up beside him. He stays silent, for a moment at least. 

Steve glances at him. There is dried blood on Eddie’s face, a forming bruise on his eye. His nose is swollen; it’s clear he put up a fight, unlike him. 

“Hey, she will be fine…” Eddie speaks up after a moment. 

Steve frowns as he stops in front of the RV. He looks around, the fire is still burning, small but burning. He sees the blood on the snow, from where Eddie must have been beaten. A heavy feeling settles in his chest, knowing he wasn’t there to help, knowing that there wasn’t even anything he could have done. 

“Did you see her face? She is not fine.” Steve scoffs, shaking his head as he begins to pace around. 

“She will be! She is just shocked!” Eddie exclaims. Everything that happened has shaken him up as well. 

“Yeah, no shit, Eddie!” 

“Harrington, calm the fuck down before I puncture a tranquilizer on you. I also saw my friend getting punched and threatened to be taken advantage of. So please…” Eddie begs, his voice is shaking. 

Steve frowns, turning to face him slowly. It only now begins to dawn on him that Eddie isn’t only worried about you but also shaken by what almost happened to him. 

And it hasn’t even dawned on him fully either. He was worried about you, not thinking about what almost happened. 

But now, as he looks down at the blood that rubbed off your hands and onto his own, at the blood from the man you killed to save him, he begins to realize, and it makes him sick, it knocks the wind out of him. 

His breathing quickens, and he reaches for his chest. 

“Oh god,” he mumbles as his knees almost buckle. He stumbles over to the camping chair and sits down. 

Eddie rushes to his side, worriedly. He kneels beside him, grabbing his wrist. He notices how he begins to hyperventilate. 

“Man, you need to breathe…” He murmurs softly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Steve…”

“I– what would have happened…” Steve croaks out as his eyes flicker with shock. “Oh god… If it wasn’t for her, right now I would probably–”

“No. Don’t think about it,” Eddie shakes his head, grabbing his hand and holding it strongly. “It didn’t happen, that’s what matters… alright?” Eddie says, looking into his eyes intensely. 

Though the thought sickens them both. Neither of them had to deal with such threats in their lives. Never before. 

Steve closes his eyes as he takes deep breaths. 

It all happened so quickly, so suddenly. 

You saved him.

You. Only you. 

You killed for him, you went so far just to protect him. 

“She… god, she…”

“I know,” Eddie says softly, understanding without needing to hear him say more. “I know, Steve.” 

“How is she gonna–”

“She’s gonna be okay… You know her, man.” Eddie mumbles as he squeezes his hand. “She has us, she has you.” 

Steve swallows, nodding at his words. 

You are strong. Stronger than he once thought. 

“I get it now.” Eddie mumbles. 

Steve’s heart is still racing in his chest, strongly. His mind is still in a whirlwind, he will need time to process all that happened. 

“What do you mean?” He asks softly as he looks into Eddie’s eyes. 

“People are the real monsters. She told me that.” 

-

The water is splashing against the tiles, warming up still. 

Nancy glances at you worriedly as she takes off your bloody clothes. You are not moving, your face is void of emotions as you stare at the wall before you. 

“Step out of your shoes, please.” Nancy says softly after undoing your laces. 

You do as you’re told, stepping out of them. You look down at your feet, even your white socks are red. 

“I’m gonna take off your pants, okay?” Nancy mumbles, looking at your face, her eyes scanning your every feature. 

You only nod, not finding it in yourself to speak up. 

Nancy unbuckles your belt, pulling through the loops as she removes it from your jeans completely. She throws it into the sink, leaving it there to wash it later. 

“Come on.” She pushes you forward towards the shower. The space is small and definitely not meant for two, but she won’t leave you alone here, not now. 

You look down at yourself, the blood seeped through everything, even your bra. The blood clinging on your whole body. You step into the shower, letting the warm water envelope you. 

Nancy keeps her arm around you, her other hand on your wrist as she helps you inside. The water hits her too, seeping through her sweater. 

“You good?” She whispers, her blue eyes searching for any discomfort. “Is the water too hot, too cold?” 

You shake your head, “fine.” You manage to croak out before you close your eyes and step beneath the stream completely. Letting the water wash away the remains of this day. As though it could actually clean you. 

You place your hands against the wall as the water runs down your back, pooling at your feet – the blood. 

Nancy steps back to take her sweater off, she throws it into the corner before she reaches for the shampoo. 

“I’m gonna wash your hair, okay?” 

You don’t really say anything, just nodding at her words. You keep your eyes closed and you listen to the sound of the water, feeling the warmth splashing onto you, feeling her fingers running through your hair, washing away the blood. 

You lower your head for her, and you make the mistake of opening your eyes and seeing just how much blood is flushing down the drain now. 

You knew there was no running from it. You knew this day would come. It almost came before, but back then, you managed to get away before you had to take such a burden on you. 

There is no regret in you, no remorse. It had to be done, and you would do it again and again if it meant saving someone you love. 

They deserved it. You know they did. You saved not only him, Eddie, and Nancy but many others who would have encountered them if you didn’t stop them. 

You know what he wanted to do to Steve. You know what would have happened to Nancy, to you, and to Eddie if it wasn’t for the wolf, if it wasn’t for your sacrifice. 

You wouldn’t be here now. 

You wouldn’t be here at all by the next morning – none of you. 

A whimper falls from your lips as your eyes well up with tears again. The tension slipping off you slowly as the realization rushes through you of the pain you have spared your friends and yourself from. 

Nancy stops her movements, glancing at your face in concern. 

Your bottom lip begins to tremble, your whole face crumbling as a sob tears from your throat, and you start crying. 

Nancy’s own eyes burn with tears as she stares at you. You just stood there like a lifeless doll, and now your face is etched in pain. Her heart breaks at the sight of you, and she doesn’t hesitate to move forward, to step into the shower with you, not caring about her clothes getting wet. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you into her embrace. She holds you tightly as she presses her forehead to your temple. 

You say her name brokenly as the tears cascade down your cheeks, mixing with the blood still clinging to you. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” she whispers into your ear as she tightens her hold on you, hugging you tighter when she feels your knees buckling. “I got you.” 

You wrap your hand around her bicep, gripping it tightly, like you need to be sure that she is there, that you are all okay. 

“Steve–”

“He is okay. Eddie is with him, I promise.” She whispers, not trusting her own voice as her chest tightens. “I’m sorry you had to do this. I am so sorry…”

You hold onto her tighter, feeling safe in her embrace, knowing she would have done the same for you if things had gone differently. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper weakly. 

You stand there for a moment, not moving, not speaking, you just stand there, holding onto each other, being there for one another. 

You know you won’t be okay, not today and not tomorrow but you will recover with them by your side. You will. It’s gonna take a while, you know that but it will be alright again. 

You know that when you look into her eyes and you see the unspoken promise that she makes. 

She will be there, and they will be too. 

-

Eddie keeps the fire smaller than all the nights before. The anxiety of this day takes over as he wonders what mistake was made for these people to attack so easily. 

Nancy’s gun is strapped to his thigh for now. He is staring into the small flame, his eyes moving back and forth between that and Steve, who is pacing around again, who won’t stop pacing. 

Eddie cleaned the blood from Steve’s hands, brought him fresh clothes to change into so he won’t have to look at the stain of blood on his shirt. He took care of his friend the way he once took care of him. 

And now Eddie is sitting down, staring at Steve who is looking just as restless. 

You haven’t come out yet, he doesn’t know how long it’s been, but it feels like forever. That sky has turned dark already, and he refuses to spend another night here. He will drive through the night, he doesn’t care, but he needs to get you all out of here. 

“Fucking Nebraska.” He murmurs under his breath. 

Steve stops pacing the moment the RV door opens, and you step outside first. Steve’s eyes scan your whole body. Your hair is still wet, there is a bruise forming on your cheek, a band aid covering the cut on your cheekbone. You’re wearing a sweater that looks way too big on you. 

His eyes lock with yours, and they turn glassy immediately when he sees how red and puffy they are. His heart aches at the sight of you, yearning to feel you close, to wrap his arms around you and never let go. 

He whispers your name, and you instantly move forward as he does the same. You meet each other halfway, wrapping your arms around one another into a tight hug. 

You don’t bother hiding your cries as you nuzzle your face into his chest and wrap your arms around his waist, melting into his embrace and holding him shakily. 

He closes his eyes as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. He holds the back of your head as he finally gets to feel you again. His heart calming down yet racing at the same time. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers softly. 

You nod against him, squeezing him as you bury yourself further into him, not wanting to let go, not wanting to pull away just yet. 

“Are you?” You mumble. 

Steve sniffles softly, nodding as he runs his fingers through your wet hair. He breathes in the scent of your body wash, of his toothpaste you have used, of the cherry shampoo that you only have a little left of. He holds on tighter, never wanting to let go, never wanting to miss the touch of you. 

There was a reason why he felt so safe with you. 

“I am now.” 

Eddie glances at Nancy. She still stands in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, as she watches you both with a weak smile on her face. She turns to face the metalhead when she feels his eyes on her. 

‘You okay?’ He mouths, eying her figure. 

Nancy nods with furrowed brows, giving him a tight lipped smile. ‘You?’ 

He lifts his hand up, giving her a thumbs up as he tries to smile at her, wanting to lighten her up a little, but even he can’t act okay. Not today. 

Eddie gets up from the chair, and he clears his throat. 

You and Steve pull away from each other, though keeping your hands locked. 

“I won’t stay here another night. You guys can uh, get some rest in the back.” Eddie gestures to the back of the RV, where the ‘bedroom’ is. “Nance, you can get some sleep too, but I’m driving. I won’t take any more chances, we’re gonna get the hell out of here.” 

No one protests against him. 

Nancy nods in agreement, wanting nothing more than to get away from here too. 

“Yeah.” Steve mumbles, looking down at you. 

Your gaze meets his. You don’t speak, you don’t have to, your eyes say enough. 

Nancy disappears back into the RV. Eddie follows her after killing the flame still burning in the little pit. He nods at you both before he walks away. 

Steve tugs at your hand, “come on, Sunshine.” 

You squeeze his hand as you move towards the stairs, you halt in your tracks and look over your shoulder one more time. Taking a look at the field you have last seen the wolves.

The pup now reunited with his mother, like you wanted it to. 

A lingering sadness spreads inside of you. You take a deep breath, sighing softly before you turn back around and walk inside. 

Without any words shared, Steve leads you to the tiny ‘bedroom’. He takes his jacket and his shoes off and you follow suit before you settle on the bed, scooting closer to the window and making space for him. 

There is a small lamp on the shelf above the bed, it’s burning an orange golden. The color of the light kisses your skin. His chest aches at the sight of the evidence the fight left on you. The anger still living in him, despite the attackers being dead. 

Your wet hair falls in front of your eyes, and he doesn’t hesitate to move forward, he sits down close to you, and he lifts his hand to cup your cheek. 

“Hey…” He whispers, lifting your face to make you look at him. The look in your eyes is soft, vulnerable. Its so different from what he saw in you before. It makes his heart ache more. He saw how much you struggled with yourself after what you did, how much you still struggle. 

You weren’t ready. 

“Sunshine,” he whispers as his eyes roam your face, as he notices the tears welling up in your eyes. 

He won’t ever let anything like this happen. 

He won’t let anything happen to you. 

“I would have done the same for you,” he whispers as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. “I hope it doesn’t come to it, but I would do it if–“ His words get caught in his throat. 

He heard the threats that were directed towards you as well and it pains him and angers him at the same time. 

Your sniffle breaks his heart as another tear rolls down your cheek. 

“I would do so much worse…” He whispers. 

You bring your hands up to his shoulders, your body trembling in his embrace as you look into his eyes. 

“You would?” You whisper shakily.

“I would.” He nods, promising it to you with a determined look in his eyes. “I would do anything for you.” 

You don’t know if it’s his promise or if it is him caring about you that makes you so emotional, if it’s this day catching up to you or the fact that he is here and well but before you know it, you break into cries and you throw your arms around him, pulling him tightly against you. 

Your heart is in your throat as you cry, beginning to feel him shaking under your embrace. His mouth is pressed against the crook of your neck and shoulder, his tears staining the shirt you are wearing, but you couldn’t care less. Not when your mind drifted back to him being chosen for that. Not when your mind reeled back to how the man grabbed him by his collar, dragging him inside this RV, eager to do stuff to him you couldn’t even imagine.

You’re not sure who moved first, if you or him, but somehow you two got under the covers, still holding each other close, crying into one another, not being able to stop, not being able to stop the images and the repetition from replaying in your heads, over and over and over again.

Your voice was small as you tried to talk, completely broken as you felt you felt your throat dry as sandpaper.

“You almost– You almost got–”

“I don’t want to think about that, and I don’t want you to think about that either… Please, Sunshine. We’re safe… We’re safe because of you…” He couldn’t stop shaking. After all the horrors he endured, the horrors he witnessed, the horrors he fought against… maybe that could have been the worst one yet. The one who could have shattered him completely. The one who could have probably made him lose himself, if not for a while, forever. 

But if it hadn’t been for you, who knows what else they had planned for your group. What they had planned for you, for Nancy, for Eddie. You choked on a sob, feeling your eyes as if they were about to explode from how puffy they felt, how raw.

“I– I killed humans. People. I killed people.” You were in shock, and he took a deep breath before pulling his head back to make you look at him. This is the first time you two saw each other this broken. This anguished. He shook his head at you, his arms never leaving your body.

“You killed monsters… True monsters. A demogorgon would not do what they planned to do… They go for the instant kill, with no other ulterior motive, with no torture… And that makes them more humane than whatever these three beings were.” 

And he was right.

Your head leaned close to his chest, your tears finally slowing down after his words processed inside your head. His heart resonated in your ears, and you could still hear it because of what you did. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Yes. You would do it again if it meant you could keep hearing this. Just like this. Close. Warm. Calm.

“Stay with me, Steve…” His embrace tightened around you, his eyes finally closing as he felt your breaths slowing down under his palms. Up and down. Up and down. Gentle, little by little.

His lips instinctively pressed at the top of your head, but you were already sound asleep before you could notice them, before you could feel the tender touch he just gave to you. His eyes closed as he felt safe, the RV starting to rock him to sleep as Eddie drove, heading to whatever destination he desired, just far away from here.

“Always, Sunshine…”

☀︎

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @pretentious-blonde @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry @sherrylyn0628 @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @micheledawn1975 @keepingitlokiii @littleromanoff2005 @sunshine-mrk @xxladymjxx @bananasplits-world @myharrington

[ebodebo]

Rescue me, I want your tender charm!

pairing: dbf!dr. jack abbott x fem!reader

word count: 6.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, phone sex, masturbation, no use of y/n, dirty talk, age-gap, reader is in her early to mid 20s and jack is…how old he is…, two for one: dad’s best friend & best friend’s dad, no jake, probable medical inaccuracies, reader getting drugged, secret relationship, drug & alcohol consumption, no langdon addiction arc, heavy angst, & use of medical jargon.

author’s note: writing for this show wasn’t on my bingo card, but here we are! i need this man with my whole being and i’m so serious. i would also like to clarify that you did not grow up knowing abbott or his daughter. you met them in the last year or so, while finishing up your bachelor's degree and starting on your master's. also, before reading, please heed all the warnings above, as this fic is meant to be read with care. read at your own discretion.

Jack always takes such good care of his girl...

"Jack," you narrow your eyes, a smile breaking your serious facade. "I'm serious."

"So am I," he defends, hand over his heart, a cheeky smile spreading across his lips before twirling a finger in the air. "Turn around."

You roll your eyes playfully, twirling where you stand as your dress twirls with you. The fabric rides only slightly up on the back of your thighs, which has him groaning in the bed where he lays naked, only the comforter giving him a shred of decency. 

"You're gonna give all the college boys whiplash, sweetheart," he chimes with a gruff laugh.

"Too bad for them because I have a boyfriend," you wink, picking up your dress so it pools around your waist as you crawl over to him on the bed to straddle his lap.

His hands move to grip your thighs, massaging them lightly. "Mhm," he hums softly, leaning forward and kissing your lips softly.

"You smell like sex," you randomly murmur against his lips.

"Well, funny enough, I did just have sex, so that checks out," he jests, hands moving up and down your thighs with ease.

"Oh. Did you now? I had no idea," you press your lips back to his, hand moving to rest on his cheek. You nip his lip lightly as your hands skim down his chest and torso to hover over the blanket that covers his naked lap. 

"Insatiable, you are," he mutters against your lips; his words come out breathless. 

You let out a dry laugh as his hands grip your waist tightly, and his head dips into the crook of your neck. "You know, your dad would throw a shit fit if he knew where you were right now," his warm breath flutters across your skin. 

You let out a hushed moan as his teeth come out to nip the sensitive flesh. "Well then...we best keep it a secret then. Huh?" You simply say, hand skimming his bare chest.

"You know whatever consumes your mind will eventually bleed into the real world?" He asks, hands skimming up your hips. Then he tilts his head away from your neck to look into your eyes. 

You quip your brow in confusion.

"Law of attraction," he shrugs simply.

You roll your eyes, groaning as you push him away. "God. You sound like my philosophy professor," you huff, shoulders hunching in defeat.

He lets out a rough laugh. "Is that a good thing?"

"An irritating thing," you inform, your voice tinged with exasperation. "He's such a dick."

"Want me to fight him?" He jokes, his fingers playfully tugging at the hem of your dress, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

You contemplate for a moment. "Ask me that after mid-terms."

He smiles, head leaning back to rest on the headboard. "You know, I've always wondered, why philosophy? Could have done EM? You're smart enough for it." His curiosity is genuine, and it warms you.

"Hell no to EM. I'd rather take a bullet to the head," you laugh before realizing he quite literally works in EM. "No offense."

"Some taken, yeah," he nods with a light smile to show he's joking.

You give him a smile before your brain starts turning. "Philosophy…it's...I don't know…grounding," you utter, avoiding his gaze. "Do I sound like an idiot?" You question with a small laugh, eyes finally moving to his. 

"No. Of course you don't," he assures, shaking his head. "I get it. I took a philosophy course in med school," he recalls with a hint of nostalgia in his smile. "My attending at the time all but forced me in the class. Said it would help me understand death," he supplies. 

"Did you like it?" You ask, tilting your head to the side as you fidget with his fingers resting on the bed.

He nods. "Yeah, I did," he replies, his gaze meeting yours. "It helped me understand morality, which is a miracle in itself.” His eyes then drop to the mattress, lost in thought.

"You know, speaking of that," you say as you shuffle off his lap, to his dismay, searching for your laptop. "I have to write a dissertation on a case study about the ethical implications of fabrications." You swipe your laptop from your bag and sit back on the edge of the bed on his side. 

"You can help me with it," you decided, fingers gliding across the keyboard.

He lets out a dry laugh. "Why am I going to help you with your homework?

You turn to look at him. "Because you're smart."

"Sorry, sweetheart," he begins, resting his head on the headboard. "I already did my time."

You roll your eyes playfully, returning to the laptop and tapping the keys to go to the case study. "Yeah. Like forty years ago," you snicker under your breath.

"Oh. Now I'm definitely not helping you," he says, with mock hurt.

You turn to him again, your expression softening. "Sorry…" you chew on your lip, setting your laptop aside to move back towards him. "I'm a dick," you murmur, legs once again straddling his lap.

"Happens to the best of us," he presses a kiss to your lips. 

"I find it hard to believe you can be a dick. You're always so sweet," your hand rests on the back of his neck, fingers dragging up and down softly.

"To you," he closes his eyes softly as your fingers delicately move against his skin. "Just to you."

The ER isn't as bustling and noisy as it usually is when you stroll in the following day.

It's almost...quiet.

Too quiet.

"Hotshot strollin' in, and it's not even eight am?" Langdon chimes from behind the triage desk. "Someone's in trouble," he jokes, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You give him a smile. "You know me too well, Frank."

He nods his head towards you, a playful glint in his eye. "What did the old man do this time?" He prompts with humor in his tone. "Missed a brunch? Sold your favorite childhood toy?"

You shake your head, moving to lean on the desk. "Oh, much worse," you say as Langdon quips a curious brow. "He's dipping out of our annual family vacation."

"Yikes…" He cringes before tilting his head in thought. "But that sounds like you have an empty seat," he comments, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Where are we going? The tropics? I've been meaning to work on my surfing techniques," he adds, bringing his hands up to pretend to surf, a playful smirk on his face.

You let out a chuckle. "Funny, but not a chance, loser," you breathe out, crossing your arms over your chest. "If I were to take anyone else, it would be your wife," you affirm, a teasing glint in your eye. 

"Right. Sorry," he reaches for a clipboard off the desk next to him, scanning it quickly. "I forgot you love Abby more than me," he gives you a short smile.

"Did you really forget though?" You tilt your head, voice pitiful. "I thought I made it painfully obvious," you say as he gives you a fake laugh, skimming around the corner of the desk to go to a patient's room. 

"Dana," you greet, swiveling your attention to her sitting at the desk, only half paying attention.

"With a patient, south side, room 15," she immediately says, scribbling on some paper.

"Oh. You know I love you," you tap on the desk, blowing her a playful kiss before turning on your heels, a warm smile on your face.

"Give him hell, kid," she mutters, eyes still focused on the paperwork.

You find the room and see your dad and some medical residents huddled up with a patient.

That does nothing to deter your stride.

You cross across the hall, opening the door open.

"What's this about you missing the family vacation?" You chime, eyes on your dad.

Dr. Robby turns to you, his shoulders sagging at your presence as if he already knew what would happen. "Oh, what a joy," he mutters, wiping his face. "Honey, I'm kind of with a patient right now," he expresses, voice low.

"Good, he can hear how ridiculous you're being," you retort, your lips pursed in frustration. "Mom told me you aren't coming on the trip anymore," you accuse again.

"Um…Dr. Robby, do you want us to call security?" Javadi asks timidly. 

"Security?" You repeat with a laugh.

"No, Javadi," he begins with a sigh. "Unfortunately for us, that's my kin," he exhales before fixing his stethoscope. "Whitaker, get 40 milligrams of prednisone. Javadi, get the pulmonologist down here to do a breathing treatment," he orders, snapping his plastic gloves off and tossing them in the trash as he walks over to you, gesturing for you to step outside. "I'll be just outside if you need me," he assures, with a hint of humor. "Call the cops if you don't hear from me in fifteen," he jokes, following you out, trying to lighten the tense situation.

"You're in trouble," you point your finger at him when you enter the hall. "You promised you would go," you exasperate, hands on your hip.

He sighs, his hand wiping over his face. "I know. I'm sorry, but we don't have anyone to cover for me. I told your mother that," he says, his voice tinged with regret.

"Dad," you tilt your head forward, frustration coating your words. "We've had this trip planned for months," you enunciate, your disappointment clear.

"I'm sorry, honey. I just can't swing it right now. Hospital is short-staffed," he says, sincerity in his tone before his eyes light up in thought. "How about you get Abbott's daughter to go with you and your mother?" He nods. "You two are really good friends," he says before his face contorts into confusion. "Surprised she isn't here with you," he huffs deeply.

"She had a thing," you bring your hand up and shoo it to the side. 

"A thing? What's a thing?" He says with confusion in his tone, watching your hand flail in the air.

"Just something she had to do," you confirm, not sparing much detail.

"Ah. A secret thing," he says, lifting his hand to pull an invisible zipper across his lips before twisting a fake key on the corner and throwing it to his side. "Got it."

Before you can get a word out, your dad looks behind you and issues a smile towards them before quickly moving to greet them.

"Jack," he addresses, bringing him in for a hug.

"Hey, man," Jack says to your dad, hugging him back, his eyes then wandering to you. "Hey, kid," he smiles towards you, a knowing glint in his eyes. 

"Hi, Dr. Abbott," you squeak, feeling a surge of nerves. 

"Thought you only worked tonight?" Your dad questioned, tilting his head in confusion.

"Eh. Got called in since one of the other doctors got the flu," he shrugs, though his eyes aren't even fixed on your dad.

"Dr. Bigley? Heard his wife's back in town after being gone for two weeks. You think she mysteriously caught the flu, too?" Your dad jests, a knowing tone in his voice, unaware of the brewing tension beside him. "But, hey, since you're already here, could you take Whitaker on your rotations? Kid could use more patient practice," he tips his head towards the room he's in.

"Sure...yeah," Jack says, finally tearing his eyes away from you to look at your dad. "I can do that."

"Thanks," your dad moves to grab his pager, blaring loudly. "Jack, could you walk her out?" He says, referring to you as he starts over to you. "Make sure she leaves," he raises his brows at you. "Bye, hon. Love you," he presses a kiss to your forehead before spinning on his heels to head in the opposite direction. 

"Bye, Dad. Love you too," you yell back, eyes glancing at Jack. 

The air crackles with tension as he extends his hand, silently urging you to lead the way. You pick up the cue, your steps quickening as you head towards the front doors, your hands nervously clutching your purse strap.

"You look like you want to be anywhere else than with me," Jack murmurs lowly so no one around can hear, taking note of your sour expression.

You can't help but let out a dry laugh. "Considering I was on my knees for you yesterday morning, I'd say that isn't the case," you say with a casual smirk, adjusting your purse strap.

He stops in his tracks, a cheeky smile growing on his lips. "You little minx—"

"What do you recommend for bruised knees, Dr. Abbott?" You ask with interest and muster a serious expression, eyes locked onto his.

His eyes widen slightly, searching for a crack in your serious facade. "I...well—"

You snicker, making him release a sigh of relief. "I'm just teasing you, Jack. I'll call you later," you murmur, your eyes boring into his. 

"Looking forward to it, sweetheart," he says with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings for you.

He wants to reach out and kiss you.

Pull you tight against his body and thread his fingers through your hair, but he can't.

Not here, not now.

His fingers flex as if to touch your fingers that come close to his as you leave.

Yours flex out, too, he notices.

He smiles at the exchange.

It was better than any kiss he could ever get.

About midday, you're parked at your desk, your computer wide open, and your screen is black, responding to your inactivity.

You can't focus on anything you start working on.

Every time you start reading a case study, your brain wonders to Jack.

You always loved seeing him at the hospital when you visited your dad.

Dressed up in his scrubs, hair slightly disheveled, combing his fingers through it when he's irritated, and the teasing tone in his voice when he gets frisky, you can almost smell the antiseptic and hear the distant beeping of machines.

You catch yourself slipping far away from the case study again. 

Fuck it.

You're feeling needy.

You grab your phone, sliding your finger to hover over the call icon on his contact.

It takes two rings, and you hear the familiar sound of heart monitors and shuffling in the background. 

"Hey. What are you up to?" Your voice echoes through the line, and your finger fidgets with your pen. 

"Just had to consult a teen with a co-infection," he informs you, voice low. "Syphilis and herpes."

"Woah. Save some of the fun for the rest of us," you jest, a hint of longing in your voice as you put the pen between your lips. 

"Hilarious. What are you doing?" His voice is slightly muffled; you assume he placed the phone between his shoulder and cheek.

"Attempting to study. Have an ethics midterm tomorrow," you sigh.

"Oh. Look at you. Smart girl," he praises as you hear his pen scribbling on some paper.

"Eh. Should have started yesterday, but this guy I know kept me busy all day." You sit up in your chair, chewing on your lip.

"Hey. Don't blame me for your scholastic missteps," he laughs as you continue to hear his pen on the paper. 

"Why are you assuming you're the guy I'm talking about?" You contest, attempting to stir him up.

"Call me an optimist," he shakes it off, still continuing to write.

"What if you had competition? Would that scare you?" You find yourself asking with eagerness. 

"I'm an ER doctor who's ex-vet with nice hair," he begins, not paying close attention. "Who's competing with me?" His words don't hold smugness, just exude confidence.

"Someone's cocky," you tease, leaning your elbow on your desk, palm holding your cheek, enjoying the playful banter.

"Confidence isn't cockiness, sweetheart," he simply says as you hear a chair creak over the line. 

"So they say," you say, feeling a sudden hotness.

"So, why did you call?" He asks curiously, eyes still focused on a patient file.

"Am I not allowed to call my boyfriend?" Your voice is full of faux hurt. 

He smiles. "Of course, you can call me anytime sweetheart," his voice is sweet. "You just usually have a reason. Are you stressed?"

You let out a deep sigh. "A little, but I feel bad ranting to a guy who literally has to save lives for a living."

"Come on," he urges, his patience evident. "Hit me."

"It's just…midterms are coming up, and this fucking dissertation," you struggle to articulate, "I know this is going to sound dramatic, but I feel like I'm being swallowed whole, you know?" Your voice quivers with stress.

He sets his pen down. "It's hard," he agrees. "But doable."

"Wow. That's some great insight, Jack. You should consider writing a self-help book," your apparent sarcasm makes him smile. 

"Nah. Writing passages for the uninspired, unwilling to make the application is not really my thing," he quips, tilting back in his chair.

"Everyone's a cynic," you say with a humorous undertone that has him smiling in his chair.

The silence hangs over the phone for a moment.

"Are you on break right now?" You finally break the silence, tone full of anticipation.

"Just took twenty to breath," he suspires, hand coming to massage the bridge on his nose.

You chew on your bottom lip. "Are you in your office?"

"I am, yeah," he sits up in his chair. "Why?"

"Just curious," you lick your lips. "I miss you."

"Saw you this morning, sweetheart," he voices with a smile.

"I know, I know," you affirm. "I'm just feeling…needy." 

He can hear you shuffling around. "What are you doing?"

"What do you want me to be doing, Jack?" You coax, lying on your bed. 

You don't hear anything over the line, and you go to speak before you hear the click of a door closing and the same creaking of the chair.

"Pants off," he commands, voice husky.

You oblige eagerly, stomach fluttering as you slip your pants off and toss them on the floor. "What now?" You ask, already feeling breathless.

"Let's put those pretty little fingers to good use, yeah?" His voice is so low and raspy. "Slide them over your stomach. Don't go any lower," he directs, shifting in his chair.

You slide your fingers down your stomach, tenderly and easily, panting into the phone as you do so.

"That's it, pretty girl," he praises. "Keep going for me."

You let out a shallow moan at the praise, fingers moving up and down your stomach with purpose.

"Take your panties off, baby," he almost releases a groan at the sounds that come off your tongue as you slip your panties off, tossing them off you with the swing of your foot.

"They're off," you breathe, fingers coming back to brush on your stomach.

"Good girl," he begins. "Move your fingers across your pussy. Nice and easy strokes," his voice is so gruff, you could just come to the sound of him talking.

Your fingers move down to place easy strokes on your aching cunt, arousal already accumulating. "Feels good," you whimper, brain hanging onto his praise.

"Good. Just follow my voice," he says. "I'll make you feel good, okay?" He prompts before leaning closer into the phone. "Rub your fingers against your clit," he tells you.

"Jack…." You mewl into the phone as your finger plunges into your cunt, rubbing gently against where you ache.

"Oh. That's it," he gruffs. "Touch yourself, baby…just how you like, yeah?"

"Okay," you breathe out as your fingers actions speed.

"Doing so good," he compliments, hearing the wet sounds of your fingers plunging in and out of you. "Talk to me…let me hear you."

"Feels so good, Jack," you moan out, fingers working faster. “So good.”

"Yeah?" He says, egging you on.

"Mhm," you reply, pleasure building in your lower stomach.

"You gonna be a good girl and come by the hospital later?" He asks as he hears your panting increase.

"Yeah…can't wait to see you," your voice is strained as your fingers work, rubbing against your clit fast. 

"Oh, I bet, baby," he says. “I'll make you feel even better in person. Rub you off myself until you come on my fingers." His tone is downright scandalous.

You let out a louder moan, feeling an all-consuming, toe-curling orgasm crash into you.

Jack's eyes locked onto the door knob twisting open, issuing a hurried goodbye before hanging up and tossing his phone on his desk.

Dr. Robby enters, file in hand, staring curiously at Jack's phone on his desk. "Who was that?"

"No one," Jack says instantly, grabbing his phone to put it into his pant pocket.

"Okay. Guess we'll do the secrets thing," Dr. Robby raises his brows before handing the file to Jack. "Got a patient with a heart arrhythmia."

Jack abruptly shifts his focus back to work, his mind void of his personal matters. "Send them to cardio," he instructs, his tone professional and detached as he scans over the file.

"Yup. Already on it," Dr. Robby agrees.

Jack tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. "If you already did that, why did you need my consultation?"

"He's a vet. Said he knows you," Dr. Robby shrugs tilting his head to the side. "North side, room 25."

Jack simply nods as Dr. Robby heads out the door before sinking into his chair, deeply exhaling, the gears in his brain turning.

He was on the phone making you come just mere seconds ago, and he was a fragment of a second away from your dad being able to hear your sweet voice through the phone.

If that doesn't constitute a one-way ticket to the fiery pits, he's not sure what does.

The overwhelming sound of a thumping base and the smell of cheap beer and sweat hangs heavy, clouding your senses.

Your friend has convinced you to go to one of the frat parties.

Nothing like spending your Friday night in a small, confined room full of horny college boys and desperate sorority girls. 

The friend in question is a girl you've grown exceptionally close to within the last year.

Did everything together.

You were practically a part of her family, even her moms boyfriend took a liking to you and he was a hard ass.

But, you were particularly close to her dad.

Dr. Abbott.

Oh, you know, the guy you were secretly dating and screwing. 

Even made you come over the phone just some hours ago.

Guilt gnaws at your brain as your friend leads you into the house where the party is happening.

"God, it reeks of weed," you say, covering your nose as the pungent odor fills the air.  

"It's a college party. I'd be concerned if it didn't," your friend replies dryly, pulling you through a crowd of college kids toward the kitchen to grab some drinks.  

"Don't pour anything too strong," you warn, raising your eyebrows as your friend reaches for a bottle of vodka.  

"Just one shot? To celebrate you finishing your dissertation?" She asks, messily pouring the shots.  

"I haven't finished it yet—" you begin to protest, but she thrusts a shot in front of you, filled to the brim, causing some of the liquid to spill over the side.  

"Shot incoming!" She says with a bright smile, bringing the shot to her lips.

You begrudgingly down the shot with her, both cringing at the taste. 

"Tastes like shit," you remark, wiping some off your lip.

"Ugh," your friend winces at the potent flavor and, like clockwork, grabs two more cups to make another drink, this time less intense.  

You spot another friend on the couch in the living room, showing off a bag of white pills. You grab your friend's arm, leave your drinks on the counter, and walk over to him.  

"What are those?" You ask, crossing your arms and tilting your head toward the pills.  

"It's black star, straight from Germany," he replies, shaking the bag.  

You and your friend raise your eyebrows in confusion.

He tilts his head and shakes the bag again. "You know, superman? Because it takes you to space." He flaps his arms, pretending to float until his girlfriend elbows him. 

"Christ. Enough with the theatrics," she chimes in, standing beside him. "It's LSD. You guys want one?" She tips the bag, letting a couple drop into her palm.  

"Sure," your friend shrugs, reaching for the pills.  

You shoot her a disapproving look. "Absolutely not. You have no idea what those are made of. Do you want to end up in the ER, having to explain to your dad what you were thinking?" Your eyebrows raise as you speak.  

"You're no fun," your friend with the pills laughs, popping one onto his tongue.  

You give him a disapproving look before turning back to your friend. "I guess you're right," she says quietly. "He would kill me if the pills didn't."  

You nod in agreement. "Let's go get those drinks you made, yeah?" You grab her arm, leading her back to the kitchen.  

Your drink has shifted slightly to the side on the counter, but that doesn't deter you from throwing it back completely.

Your friend chugs her drink, licking her lips. "Should we do another?" She poses it as a question, but she isn't asking, already cracking open a fresh bottle of Everclear. 

You ponder for a moment, then hand your empty cup to her. "Fine," you exclaim, feeling a mix of exasperation and amusement. 

Your friend beams, pouring the spirit into your cups.

"Cheers to..." she trails off, pursing her lips as she hands you a drink. 

"...a good night," you finish, clinking your cup with hers. 

A smile spreads across her face, and once again, you both down the alcohol. The burn in your throat soothes your thoughts and lulls your brain into submission. 

Tonight was definitely going to be a good fucking night.

It's been twenty minutes since then. 

Your skin feels blistering yet icy.

Your head is pounding; you wouldn't be surprised if your brain imploded and cracked your skull.

A wave of nausea hits you, then retreats before you act.

What the fuck is going on?

Sure, you drank more than you should have, but this was not what usually happens. 

You glance at your friend perched in a corner near you, talking to a girl about something regarding her last lecture.

Nerd.

You presume she's fine.

Leaning against a wall, disoriented, you pull your phone out, opening up your text thread to the one and only.

Jack Abbott.

You haphazardly type out your sentence, and your vision starts to double, but that does nothing to deter you from texting him.

He answers immediately. 

Me: what r u up 2? working 2night?

Him: Why are you texting me in numbers?

Me: omg ur so oldd im crying kinda heartwarming though

Him: Heartwarming? How so? Him: Also, where are you?

Me: its just cute lol ur so cute Me: @ party that ur daughter dragged me 2 i feel woozy

Him: I'm cute? Honey, I'm old. Him: Have you been drinking? No drugs, right?

Me: yea ur cute sexy hot yup u check all the boxes dr hotness Me: no my friend tried 2 give uss lsd but i scolded ur daugher Me: i wouldnt ever take that shit or let her im drunk though

Him: Dr. Hotness? Hmm...that's a new one. Him: You need me to pick you two up? I can.

Me: noo were good i wouldnt wanna keep u from saving lives and all

Him: Let me come get you.

Me: jack im fine promise you better not show up or ill kill uu Me: i wouldnt actually but id be mad

Him: I can handle you being mad at me, sweetheart. Him: I just want both of you to be safe.

Me: were fine i promise! ur daughter is lit talking to a girl about her bio stats lecture shes such a nerd

Him: And you? What are you doing?

Me: texting u ofc

Him: Enjoy your party, but don't be stupid. Him: Take care of yourself and my daughter. Him: Call me if you need me.

Me: okay mr serious pants ill talk later byee

"Who ya texting?" Your friend scoots next to you, dilated eyes attempting to look at your phone screen.

"No one," you pull your phone to your chest in a panic, straightening your posture.

"Oh my God. Is it a guy? Do you have a secret boy toy I don't know about?" She nudges your side, face warmed from the alcohol.

"It's none of your beeswax," you huff, rolling your eyes playfully, attempting to sound nonchalant, though you can feel your head begin to spin again, but this time much faster.

"You know, I've never understood that saying," she says, her expression serious. 

You release a silent laugh as your words slurry, "Just, just go back to talking about your nerd things," you pat her shoulder gently, feeling your body shift, muscles relaxing to a disturbing degree.

"Whatever," she laughs, trudging herself back over to her friend. 

Him: Funny, but seriously, please be safe. Talk to you later.

That was the last thing you read. 

Your phone screen goes black as you feel the smack of your cheek hitting the cold wood and the sound of your friend rushing over to you, shaking your shoulders.

The urgency in her actions is palpable, a silent scream in the air.

Your friend calls your name over and over again, repeating it with more desperation each time, sobbing as she attempts to shake you awake.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she curses; your body is still, skin hot to the touch. "She, she won't wake up," her voice is shaky and frantic as she shakes you again, begging you to wake up. She snaps her head to whoever is close to her, her eyes filled with fear and desperation. 

"Call 911. Now."

"Female, early to mid 20s, unresponsive. Found at a party with signs of possible drug ingestion," a paramedic shouts, rushing you in on a stretcher into the ER as a nurse materializes at your side, the urgency palpable in the air.

Your friend follows close behind, mascara running down her cheeks as she frantically tries to see you.

"What the…oh shit," Langdon exclaims, his shock evident as he moves quickly from behind the triage desk, his gaze shifting from you, looking lifeless, strapped onto a gurney, to Abbott's daughter hot on the paramedic's trail, sobs escaping her.

"Frank. Oh my God," she cries out, rushing over to him. "Please. You, you need to help her. They're, they're saying she was drugged," she stutters, hands moving messily through her hair.

"Hey, hey. Calm down, okay?" He puts his hands up, eyes searching her frantic eyes. "Tell me what happened," he says, now rushing over to you.

"I'm, I'm not sure," she heaves out as Langdon comes to your side, pulling your eyelids up to look at your pupils. "I turned around for a se, second then I heard her hit the ground."

"Dilated pupils. No sign of head trauma," he says, his voice urgent, his actions swift. "Let's move her to the north side, room 27," he turns, gesturing for Whitaker, whose eyes curiously stare at what is unfolding. "Whitaker, with me," he supplies, tipping him towards you. "Did she take anything?"

"No. Not that I know of," your friend sputters, her concern palpable, hot on Langdon's trail as he moves with you to the room, Whittaker following close behind. "She just drank."

"Drank what?" He asked promptly. "Let's get her on a monitor and start an IV with naloxone." He directs the nurse before looking at your shell-shocked friend. "What did she drink?"

Your eyes widen, and you search for the right words. "Um…vo, vodka and tequila…with Everclear," you manage to say, your voice trembling with shock.

"Yikes. Sounds like a bad night waiting to happen," he comments with a wince as he starts pushing the naloxone into the IV catheter. "Whitaker, go get Robby and Abbott. They're gonna wanna be here," he says, not looking up.

"Need her BP, pulse, and oxygen saturation. Let's get a tox screen, too," Langdon says urgently, not missing a beat.

"BP's 90/60, pulse is 110, oxygen saturation's 92% on room air," The nurse supplies. 

Langdon cringes. "Let's give her some oxygen and start another IV with 1 liter of normal saline wide open. Need to do a CT scan of her head so that we can rule out intracranial hemorrhage," he continues, assessing you as your friend anxiously waits by the door. "Where the hell are Robby and Abbott?"

"What's going on?" Dr. Robby moves in, following Whitaker, with Abbott close behind Robby. 

Dr. Abbott turns to see his daughter sobbing near the door as they all flood in.

"Came in unresponsive. Possible drug ingestion," Langdon eyes flick between Robby and Abbott. "Robby...it's your daughter."

Dr. Robby's eyes widen, twisting his head, issuing a curse as he moves into action. "Fuck—what the hell did she take?"He spits, looking around, and his eyes land on your friend.

"I don't, I don't know," her voice trembles with fear. "I, I just looked away for a second, and then I heard her hit the floor," she turns to Dr. Abbott, chest heaving. "She, she looked...so lifeless, Dad," she cries out. "I, I thought—" she trails off as Jack brings her into his arms. 

"Shh," Jack holds his daughter as she sobs. "It'll, it'll be okay."

Jack wants to rush over to your side, heal you, then ambush you with a kiss.

But he can't.

Not now, anyway. 

"Where's the cardiac monitor? Get the God-damn monitor on her!" Dr. Robby's voice echoes with urgency, his mind racing frantically. "Were you watching each other? How did this happen?" He blurts out a million different, unimportant questions in the heat of the moment. 

All he can focus on is your lifeless body right in front of him.

"Robby...Robby," Langdon raises his voice. "Look at me," he pleads; Robby's eyes move to Langdon, with a deep exhale through his nose. "You need to calm down and treat your daughter," he says, his head nodding as he speaks. "Save her first; ask those questions later."

Dr. Robby sucks in a deep breath giving Langdon a nod before turning his attention back to you. "Whitaker, push in another dose of naloxone," he directs.

Whitaker nods, pushing in a second dose of the medicine. 

Everyone stands around you, anxiously waiting for you to wake.

Jack releases a shaky breath as he holds his daughter, mind already imagining the worst.

You spring awake, eyes wide and bright with a gasp, a sudden surge of relief washing over the room.

"Oh my God," your friend rushes to your side, grabbing your hand to ensure you're real. "You saved her," she turns to Whitaker.

"I just—" Whittaker starts before your friend pulls him right against her, pressing a messy kiss to his cheek, smearing lipstick on his skin.

"Thank you so much," she mumbles into him, her voice choked with emotion as she pulls away to hug you, her gratitude palpable.

“I’m, I’m alright,” your voice is barely above a whisper, betraying your vulnerability as your friend steps aside for your dad's embrace.

"You're never leaving me again, kid," he half-jokes, his voice filled with relief and a hint of fear, hugging you tightly.

You can't help but laugh, your eyes meeting Jack's, who's staring at you with such intensity.

You open your mouth to call him over, but he leaves the room.

He dissipates, as does the protest on your tongue. 

"Let me get you some water," Dr. Robby kisses the top of your head, tilting his head toward Langdon to follow him out, leaving only you, your friend, and Whitaker in the room.

He's charting something when your friend moves next to him; her steps are careful, and her voice is a gentle murmur.

"I meant it, you know? Thanks for helping her," she smiles at him, eyes softening as she sees the lipstick mark still on his cheek. "You're gonna be a great doctor."

He gives her a smile, the tips of his ears going red from nerves. "I, well, yeah…than, thanks," he stutters, pretending to write something down.

"It's cute how nervous you get," she smiles, rocking on her heels.

His eyes widen. "Sorry, I, I have another patient," he says, avoiding her gaze and walking to the door.

She giggles as he walks out the door, bumping into the doorway as he exits. His face turns bright red as he turns to go in the complete wrong direction.

"I'm glad you're using my passing out as a means to meet cute guys," you say groggily, humor in your tone.

Your friend's eyes widen. "I would never—"

"I'm kidding. Whitaker is the only guy I don't think any dad would object to. He's super sweet. Would be a good match for you," you simply say. 

"He's nice, yeah," she agrees, her face warming with a playful blush. 

"He's really nice," you correct. "And he wants to be a doctor," you release a breath. "Might as well marry him on the spot," you joke.

She lets out a laugh before coming over to you. "You're okay?"

You nod your head. "I'm okay."

Dr. Robby comes in, walks over to hand you the cup of water, and then turns to your friend. "Honey, the police want to ask you some questions," he begins. "I can come with you."

She nods, lightly squeezing your hand before moving in front of your dad to walk out the door.

You sit up and see Jack hovering outside. "Jack, can you wait with her?" Dr. Robby murmurs to him.

He nods, coming in and slowly closing the door behind him. 

"Jack..." You can already feel your throat clogging and want to die from embarrassment. 

How could this have happened to you? 

You've always been so careful. 

"I'm, I'm here, sweetheart," he says, pulling up a chair next to your bed before sitting in it to hold your hand.

"I, I don't remember anything," you start, tears clinging to your lashes. "Do you know what happened to me?"

He hesitates for a moment, squeezing your hand tighter. "Think you were drugged."

Your eyes widen. "Dru, drugged?" You stumble over your words, unable to comprehend what he said. "Like someone spiked my, my drink?" The shock of the revelation hits you like a wave, leaving you struggling to process the information. 

He gives you a weak nod. "Most likely."

You sink into the bed, tongue coming to lick your dry lips before the tears start pouring down your cheeks. "I, I can't believe it. I could have—" you start, eyesight blurring from your tears, chest beginning to heave. In this moment, you feel more vulnerable than you ever have before. 

Jack pulls you into his arms, your tears pooling on his scrubs. You're trembling with fear, and his embrace is the only thing calming you.

"I got you, sweetheart," he murmurs. "You're safe now."

You press your face into his chest, salty tears coating your lips, his embrace offering you immense comfort. 

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

author's mini note: he would so talk you through it...

[fishnapple]

What new skill should you learn

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

CARNELIAN

The most prominent one that I get is public speaking skills. Your usual way of speaking might not get you enough attention when you are in front of a crowd or talking to a large audience, even online one. May be your voice is too soft or sounds quite young or bubbly, or you don't like to share too much about yourself, your opinions. It can make you seem more approachable, but in situations that you need to assert yourself, to be taken seriously, then it can become a disadvantage. And when you are in those situations, you might over compensate by being defensive or rigid, trying to assert yourself more than necessary.

You need to develop a firmer tone, and the words you say, your body language should also convey a sense of authority. But it's not a battle for power and domination, you just need to make yourself more visible, to make your energy more solid and grounded. This will help you in situations that require exchanging ideas in a large group, delivering your message to many people, rallying, persuading, teaching, or simply telling a story.

Research more about social skills in a group setting, observe the people that you feel are popular or well respected, observe their body language, their posture, their tones in different kinds of conversations, their choices of words, their silence, etc. This may sound mechanical but if you treat this skill just like math or painting, instead of thinking that social skill is something innate, you will see that with appropriate observations and enough practice, you can achieve a certain level of proficiency. This will open more opportunities for you and raise your confidence.

CLEAR QUARTZ

The stone of Pluto, South node and North node, all are "standing up", they are trying to make a statement (each side of the crystal is very narrow, it can fall over with just a gust of wind, I normally couldn't replicate the same position). The theme is about changing the old and embracing a new mindset. I think it has to do with how you take care of your appearance, your style.

Right now, you seem to be staying in the safe zone when it comes to styling yourself, making yourself more beautiful. This might be due to restrictions in early childhood, traditional values, what society deems appropriate or trendy. You might not want to focus too much on appearance because it seems superficial or vain, or takes too much of your time and energy.

But doing so will rope you the chance to express yourself more truthfully. Beautify yourself not because of how you will be perceived, but because it's a way to show love for yourself. You look into a mirror, you feel happy, you want to compliment yourself, you feel that silly stray strand of hair is adorable, not thinking about how will everyone say, how you are not like someone.

So the advice for you here is to be more adventurous in styling, expand your knowledge about fashion and styling, explore yourself more , give yourself the freedom to experiment more, to rebel more. Creating a unique image, a "public persona" is not just for some celebrities, everyone can benefit from that. Because behind that seemingly surface action, is the journey of discovering your deeper self. As within so without.

The theme of transformation is also applied to learning new languages. The languages should be totally different from your mother tongue, giving you more chance to connect with people from various parts of the world.

OBSIDIAN

The phrase "navigating the world" appeared in my mind. I got several meanings from this. One is in the literal sense as driving a vehicle, going around, navigating the roads, so learning to drive a new kind of vehicle might be the skill you should learn, or even learn to swim or row a boat. There are lots of movements, travelling and moving around. You should be more active in the physical sense. But this is not really about exercise or going to the gym, it's about moving your body, being in various places, experiencing different things. Your life in this period needs lots of expansion and movements. You might feel that you don't have enough resources or energy to go on trips, or you're simply someone who doesn't like travelling. But it will make your life stagnant. Travelling might not seem like a skill, but it is, all the planning, packing, preparation and the ability to adapt to the new place, all or these take skills.

Another one is navigating the complicated social construct. Maybe you feel it's hard to connect to people, there might be walls and the feeling of solitude and not fitting in, that there is something fundamentally different about you. The people that you managed to get closer to (it's likely that they approached you first) will stay close to you for a long time, you have no trouble maintaining a connection. The trouble lies in initiating or forming the connection. There might be an ego here that doesn't want to show their vulnerable side. Silly jokes and banters might seem childish to you. But learning to have fun in a social setting is much more rewarding than you think. Allow yourself to be a child, learn how to tell a story. Debating skills might also be worthwhile for you to learn, learn how to state your opinions clearly and defend your stance.

This group is strangely hard to read, I feel a certain resistance. You might feel that your personality isn't suitable for these kinds of things or you think it would take too much effort and work. You also don't want to imitate what other people are doing. Another reason might be that you haven't figured out what you like to do yet. But that's okay, everything takes time, trials and errors are normal, don't give up on the first try.

TIGER'S EYE

This one is an anti-consumerism movement. You might want to learn how to mend and sew clothes. And not just learn for yourself, but later will you spread the awareness to everyone, or even open workshops related to this.

Running after trends, constantly being bombarded by ads about shiny things that we don't actually need. Basic clothes with good quality cost too much while trendy ones don't last for more than a year. Maybe it's time for you to take matters in your own hands. Learning how to sew clothes might take time and effort, and sometimes, the cost is not small either. But you will be more free to explore styles that you like, create things that you're actually comfortable in. Not many people can proudly display their achievements like someone who makes their own clothes. This is also a great activity to relieve stress and help you practice being patient, especially if you're someone who is quick to get irritated or not very meticulous. It can soften your energy more and make it more focused.

Another way to practice is martial art or self-defense. You have lots of energy that needs to be channelled into various activities, those that keep your body busy.

You might also want to research more about the traditional spiritual and occult practices of your culture, or some traditional crafts in your family, learning about the legacy of our ancestors. There will be surprising knowledge hidden in them that you didn't notice before. You could feel resistant or disagree with many traditional teachings but don't disregard them completely. We can always learn something new from the old and the new always contain the old.

LABRADORITE

This is something that you feel out of your depth and uncomfortable doing, or something that you like but want to keep it a secret, for fear of judgement or obstruction.

I heard dancing and singing. But there's a feeling of gatekeeping. Some people consider these kinds of activities only for those who are gifted and have the resources to pursue them. These skills are put on a pedestal that stops people from approaching them in a more casual way.

Why should you learn these skills? It's to let your inner child be free and out into the open. It's also a way to learn how to control your body, discipline it so it can flow freely, it helps you connect more with your sensuality. Our body is an instrument of life, capable of many miracles, you won't know it unless you let it interact and move with the world around it.

There are various genres for you to explore, but I see traditional instruments or movements combined with modern ones.

Nurturing life such as gardening is another skill you should learn. It helps you be more in sync with nature, you will need to observe the natural cycle of life, to care for each individual and to form a bond with them. If you don't have the space or resources for gardening, maybe try to study more about nature, subjects about biology and chemistry, the ecosystem of forests, oceans, deserts etc. You will be more appreciative of the nature world.

CITRINE

Your energy right now seems to be rigid and doesn't flow properly. There's stress about your health, it's hard to relax, you don't feel comfortable in your body. Maybe you've been too busy lately, your mind is overloaded and your movement is restricted. So you need to learn something that can help you destress, loosen up the hard restrictions around you, and connect more with a softer, more gentle energy. You could call it your feminine energy, regardless of your gender. The feminine energy is within all of us, in your case, it's more hidden. Your loving, more nurturing side could be considered as weaknesses by the people around you. Or, on the contrary, those traits are expected of you forcefully, to the point that your own interpretation of them are buried deep within, you haven't had a chance to actually understand and connect with it.

I think meditation or any form of practice that can quiet the mind and put you in the flow will be good for you. Making art could be one form of it, yoga, intuitive dancing, Qigong, roller skating. Slow, mindful movements or wild, frantic ones just like a child running around, all the while maintaining your balance. You can temporarily forget about yourself, your worries, your responsibilities for a while with these kinds of activities.

Learning to play an instrument can also achieve the same kind of effects. A flute or a lyre.

You should be around children more, learn how to take care of them, how to teach them. Working, being with children can have a totally different energy and requires a different set of skills. I think you would make a great teacher because you have a very protective energy that children would feel safe around you. And in turn, they help you soften up and bring out your compassionate side more.

[fleuryuns]

presenting a fic by @FLEURYUNS

hold me close

IN WHICH jake comes back from tour missing you so much, he doesn’t want to waste a single second to even take off your clothes

PAIRING ⟡ idol!jake x gf!femreader

UNIVERSE ⨯ idol au

WARNINGS ⟡ dry humping (that’s literally it) + cumming in pants

WORD COUNT ⨯ 0.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . i’m an avid pathetic!jake enjoyer

ENHYPEN going on tour is both an exciting, new and prideful experience and the thing you dread the most. You weren’t able to accompany them as you’d hoped because of school, which meant almost two months without Jake by your side.

It was hard on him, too. Especially filled with the adrenaline from the concert, Jake wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and spend whatever energy he had left fucking you into the mattress. Then, he’d prepare for the concert the following day, rinse and repeat. Without you, however, he was doomed to weakly jerk off to whatever sexy photos you sent him every now and again, or the few videos he took with you.

Finally, he has you to himself again.

“I missed you so much,” he huffs into your ear.

Jake’s voice tickles your skin, causing you to stutter in your movements. He groans.

Right as he got off the plane not more than an hour ago, he was texting you about how much he missed your touch. He told you he needed you then and there, even sent a picture of his hand on his growing erection in the back of the company van.

Now, you find yourself grinding against him, still wearing the flimsy skirt you wore to campus and he in his loose-fitted jeans, which fold perfectly into your core.

His nails dig crescents into your skin where he lifts a bit of your shirt for a better grip. The pain hurts so good.

Jake pushes you back and pulls you forward in a rhythmic pattern to get you both where you want to go. “Fuck, baby, just like that,” he whispers, a pleasured smirk forming on his face as he shuts his eyes tightly.

His hips grind up into yours, bulge protruding where you need it most. As much as you want to rip the material off of him, you’re too desperate to get off with him to stop now.

You roll forward and he rolls up. “Fuck,” you sigh pleasurably. Your head naturally falls into the crook of his neck.

Jake takes this as an inviting opportunity to suck hickeys into the skin of yours. “Haven’t seen you in so long—” He kisses the skin he just bruised. “—I have to make sure everyone knows you're taken.”

You giggle at his words and his lips trickling down your neck, but it soon morphs into a whine as you feel your core growing warm.

Picking up your pace, you roll your hips into Jake’s crotch. Your cunt runs against his bulge at every angle and it feels so good.

“‘Gonna cum?” Jake pants from below.

Lost in the pleasure, you can’t bring yourself to answer him with words. You whimper against his skin, lifting your head to crash your lips onto his. He pulls your tongue into his mouth, sucking on it and moaning like it tastes like candy. To him, it is.

Jake bucks his hips and suddenly it all comes rushing out of you. You let out a pornagraphic moan while doubling over him, feeling a wet patch forming in your panties. Beneath you, Jake has his own stain on his pants, but he doesn't seem to mind as he drops his head back while catching his breath through quiet shuttered moans.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He’s pulling you in, laying your head onto his shoulder, but keeping your legs draped over his. You feel his rapid heartbeat under the palm of your hand on his chest. “Sorry…”

You tilt your head up. “What for?”

“That wasn’t very gentlemanly.”

“What—you wanted to bring me flowers, too? Before fucking me into next week?”

He laughs.

“I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me.” You attempt to get up, but your shaking legs bring you back down into his arms. “Later.”

[freyadragonlord]

One of my favourite things about the end of The S-Classes That I Raised novel (major spoilers ahead),

is the realisation that the reason why Yoojin and Hyunjae's relationship looks so much like a love story at times is because it actually, honestly is.

Like, we know that sctir is a novel about love since the beginning, that's not surprising. Yoojin's capability for loving monsters (both literal monsters and the human kind) and the power of that love is at the centre of the plot.

But by the time you get to the end, you realise - and the author confirms this themselves in their final Note - that Yoojin's relationship and love for 2 specific people was the true core of the story, and what allows him to save the world in the end:

One is, of course, Yoohyun.

And that love is absolute; you cannot say that it's inevitable, cause we know Yoojin had to make a choice when he was a child between Yoohyun and his parents, and he almost chose his parents, but from the moment he decided to love Yoohyun onward, then it was unconditional and eternal. It's the love of a brother, but also the love of a parent and a caretaker.

And the other person is Sung Hyunjae.

And that love is not unconditional nor inevitable or absolute at all. It's not something that can be taken for granted. We actually see, because of how it ended between them before the regression, and thanks to the White Bird's power of seeing possible futures, that there were so many timelines where Yoojin and Hyunjae would have never come to care about each other fully (tho they are always at least somewhat interested in each other, because their personalities are actually really compatible).

But the White Bird also sees that the only possible future where the world is saved is the one where they love and hold on to each other. And that is how the story goes!

So, just like a romance novel, the necessary end is the one where they both love each other and accept that love. And it's not easy to get there! It's a slow burn.

From meeting to getting to know each other, appreciating each other's skills and intelligence, finding out they have fun together but still not trusting each other, to working on building that trust.

They go from a strong but superficial mutual interest to actually caring about each other as people.

Yoojin has to go through the self-doubt of feeling inferior and fearing that Hyunjae will lose interest in him. Hyunjae has to learn to stop pushing Yoojin away because he doesn't know how to handle having someone he cares about so much, and also someone that cares about him, because nobody in the world (except in part Song Taewon) likes Sung Hyunjae as a person, he is only ever admired from afar.

And in the end, after going through ups and downs and a few "break-up arcs", they make it. They accept their own feelings and each other's feelings.

And that's when Yoojin makes the choice to use the power that the transcendents gave him at the very beginning of the novel, to save Hyunjae. Not the world. Not even Yoohyun! Just Sung Hyunjae!

Yeah, the whole "gather 50 S-Class people", the very thing that gives the novel its title. That is not a power that is used to save the world!! It was meant to, but Yoojin is "selfish", and he will always choose to save the people close to him first.

And being able to love someone so selfishly gives Yoojin the power to save the whole world, too. As a bonus! A reward. Just a side effect.

So yeah. Is it romantic love? No. Canonically, there's almost no romantic love in the whole novel.

But is it a love story?? Yeah. Absolutely it is.

[wcnderlnds]

easy to hate | choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

BIGBANG APRIL CHALLENGE - APRIL 29TH

・❥・ summary: seunghyun had been your best friend, the love of your life but distance had torn you apart and now when you meet him five years later, he’s not happy to see you ・❥・word count: 3k ・❥・warnings: 18+. mdni. fingering, unprotected p in v. slight choking. multiple orgasms. angry sex. swearing. ・❥・authors note: this is my last fic of the challenge so i had to go out with a bang (literally). this might be rushed bc it’s hot in the uk and doing anything has been torture but hopefully you like it <3

London in December wasn’t for the faint hearted. The chilly breeze brushing through the air, the first specks of snowdrops falling from the sky — it was beautiful but absolutely freezing. You pulled your coat tighter around you, wishing that you’d at least brought some gloves with you so your hands weren’t freezing. You rubbed them together trying to get some heat flowing in them again but to no avail. Why had you even agreed to this? 

When your friend had first come to you crying that her other friend had bailed on going to BigBang’s show with her, you’d immediately felt bad for her so had offered to accompany her. But, a BigBang concert was the last place you ever wanted to be. There was a secret you’d never told your friend, one that you had kept close to your chest because you knew the second you told them, you’d be bombarded with a million questions that you didn’t want to answer.

Truth was, you knew them. You had been friends with the whole band but especially one member in particular.

Choi Seunghyun had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. You’d been neighbours growing up, forced to hang out with each other when your parents spent time together and that had forged a bond for your whole teens. The two of you did everything together to the point it was hard to find one of you without the other. That had slowly blossomed into a romance. Seunghyun had been your first kiss, your first real boyfriend but it had been when he’d first started as a trainee at YG so the relationship had been kept a secret. The other boys had known, of course, but that was about it. The last thing you had wanted was for it to get out and ruin Seunghyun’s reputation before the band had even debuted. So, you had kept it sealed, away from prying eyes.

Then, when you were twenty years old, your father had got a promotion. The catch was that it was in the United Kingdom which meant you had to leave your life in Korea behind. It was the hardest thing you’d ever had to do. You’d been with Seunghyun for almost three years at that point and saying goodbye to him made your heart ache. You couldn’t do it so… you had taken the cowards way out and left him a note.

Everyday you’d regretted that you’d never done it face to face but it was for the best. It would have been harder to leave seeing his face. Your own heart had broken, it had taken the better part of almost a year before you could finally move on from him. There had been many times when you’d wanted to reach out and reply to the texts he sent you but you couldn’t. A clean break, thats what it had to be. Especially since you thought you’d never see him again.

But, here you were standing in the line to go backstage because of course your friend had scored backstage passes.

You were praying and hoping that you could avoid him but it was going to be impossible. Maybe he wouldn’t even recognise you. It had been five years after all. You’d changed and from what you’d seen, so had he. The unfortunate thing about your best friend being one of their biggest fans was that you were constantly updated on what they did. Seeing photos of the man you’d once called the love of your life was painful, especially when she’d tell you the latest gossip about any girl he was seeing. You had to grit your teeth and nod your head, acting like it didn’t tear you apart inside. Not that you had any right to feel that way, you had been the one to break his heart. He deserved to be happy and you hope he had found that happiness somehow.

It took another half an hour before you were finally inside the building. Steve, the bodyguard, had checked your passes thoroughly before letting you inside. At least they had good security. Now you were inside, the heat of Wembley Arena hit you like a ton of bricks causing you to remove your jacket. The nerves started bubbling up now as you were lead to the room where the guys were. There were only about ten of you who had managed to get backstage passes, the boys wanting to keep their meet and greets lowkey before the shows.

It was when you were inside the room where you were to meet them when you really started regretting it. Your stomach churned, threatening to throw up the remains of your lunch from earlier. When the girls around you started jumping around excitedly, you knew the boys were in the room. You’d positioned yourself behind some of the taller fans so that nobody could see you yet.

It didn’t work for long.

“Are my eyes fucking deceiving me?!” Jiyong’s shocked voice sounded out as his eyes landed on you, a big grin on his face.

“Y/N?” Daesung beamed.

Before you knew it, you were being engulfed by Jiyong, Youngbae and Daesung. It felt nice to know that they didn’t hold anything against you. It didn’t make it any less easier, though. Now, you had to explain to your friend why these men knew you. “Okay, okay, I need to breathe at some point today.”

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Youngbae had his hands on your shoulders, looking at you as if to make sure you were okay. “Are you well?”

“I’m good. Are you guys? I mean, stupid question because you’re on a world tour at Wembley Arena,” you laughed.

While you were talking, Seunghyun had been spending time with the other fans. He heard the commotion from the other guys and the second his eyes landed on you, his heart pretty much almost stopped. There was no way you were here. Jiyong must have told a joke because he heard your laugh from across the room. In the past, that laugh would’ve been his favourite thing to hear but now, it only brought up memories he wanted to forget about. Memories that he couldn’t hold on to because they hurt him too much. It was like a magnetic pull when you turned your head and your eyes caught his. Your breath hitched in your throat. He was as handsome as ever. Age was treating him well. He’d grown into his jawline, his boba-like eyes as beautiful as ever. It made you think back to all the times he’d smile at you — a smile that was reserved for only you but now? Well, now the look he was giving you was venomous. Like he wanted you gone.

That was to be expected.

Once everything was wrapped up, the guys had told their security that you could stay. Seunghyun had left the room the second all the fans were gone, he didn’t want to be in a room with you for any longer than he had to. It shouldn’t hurt but it did. You hadn’t missed the way he had been looking at you, like there was nobody in the world that he hated more.

“I mean… you can’t blame him,” Jiyong smiled sadly. He’d noticed where your eyes had been looking, catching on immediately.

“I know but… I just wish I could have one minute to talk to him. To explain.”

“Hmm. Let us see what we can do. Wait here.”

Before you could react, Jiyong had grabbed the other two boys leaving you alone in the dressing room. Your thoughts were racing, trying to think of exactly what you wanted to say if Seunghyun did step through that door. If anyone could get through to him, it was Jiyong. He was the only person Seunghyun ever listened to.

The minutes felt agonising as you waited. The clock on the wall ticking loudly almost as if it was mocking you. Just as you were about to leave the room, hand on the door handle to open it, it pulled open. You took a step back and in stepped Seunghyun, grumbling to Jiyong about how he hadn’t left anything behind. But, Jiyong only smirked, giving Seunghyun a shove and pulling the door shut. A lock was heard clicking shut and that’s when Seunghyun turned around and came face to face with you.

“Oh, hell no,” he banged on the door, yelling curse words at Jiyong. “I’m going to kill you when I get out of here.”

“There’s half an hour before the show so talk it out and make up or kill each other. Whatever works best,” Jiyong’s voice sounded from the other side, a playful lilt in his tone. Neither you or Seunghyun saw the humour in the situation. This was quite possibly the worst case scenario.

“Seunghyun…” you started but he narrowed his eyes at you instantly.

“No, I don’t want to hear it,” his voice was laced with venom but you could hear the pain behind it. He was using his anger as a shield, to protect his feelings.

“Please let me just…” Your voice was quiet, meek but once again he cut you off, taking a step forward.

“I said I don’t want to hear it. A fucking note, Y/N. That’s all you left me with so no, you don’t get to make excuses for that. I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth.”

“I’m so-“ This time he didn’t even let you get past the first word. Instead, he pushed you up against the wall, his thumb and forefinger grasping your chin, tilting your head to look at him. 

“Do you ever shut up?” He seethed. His face was mere inches from yours, his hot breath fanning over your face. The way he was holding your face was embarrassingly turning you on, or maybe it was that fierce look in his eyes. 

“If you’d just le-“

His lips crashed onto yours in a searing kiss, he’d grabbed both your hands, pinning them above your head against the wall. The kiss was messy, full of anger as he nipped at your bottom lip causing you to gasp. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, dancing that all too familiar dance with yours. Seunghyun pressed his body against yours, pulling back from your lips for a breath.

“Are you gonna be quiet now or am I gonna have to keep going?” His words were sharp, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took.

“I wouldn’t complain if you did,” you chased his lips, trying to get them back on yours but he pulled his head back ever so slightly out of reach.

This was going to be on his terms, not yours.

He removed one of his hands, holding both of yours in one now while his free hand dipped under the skirt you were wearing. His fingers brushed the fabric of your panties, a mocking chuckle passing his lips. “So wet already. Thinking you can come back after all these years and get fucked by your ex that you abandoned.”

“Seunghyun, I -“ you let out a sharp gasp as his fingers dove inside your panties, sliding a finger along your slit, cutting your words off. Your slick coated his finger, spurring him on even more to tease you. He kept running his finger along your folds ever so slowly, torturing you. “Come on.”

“I don’t think you have any right to call the shots right now, princess,” Seunghyun leaned in, his lips trailing kisses along the column of your neck, nipping at your earlobe. “Maybe if you be a good girl and beg for it, I’ll consider giving you what you want.”

Your hips involuntarily bucked into his hand, needing more. Even after all these years he knew how to drive you wild. “Please, Seunghyun. Fuck, I’ll do anything.”

“Mhm, not good enough.”

The pad of his thumb skimmed across your clit, eliciting a breathy moan from you but he pulled it back. It was embarrassing how you whined, your eyes pleading with him to give you more. “I need you, Seunghyun. I need to feel your fingers, baby. I’m sorry, please, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Seunghyun groaned, finally caving in at your pleas and finally rubbing your clit in tight, quick circles. His eyes never left yours, still keeping you in place pressed against the wall as he worked you with his fingers. It took you by surprise when he sank a finger into you, followed by a second one. He wasted no time, pumping them in and out of your tight hole at a fast pace. His lips caught yours in another searing kiss, all teeth and tongue. His cock was straining hard against his jeans, needing, aching to be buried inside you but he needed to make you suffer a little bit more first.

“Cum for me. It’s the least you could do for abandoning me,” he growled against your lips. 

You were bucking against his hand, your moans like music to his ears. He curled his fingers inside you and that was it. You writhed against him, unable to touch him with his hand pinning yours against the wall. Your orgasm crashed over you, more intense than you’d felt it in years.

Thinking he’d give you time to recover, you relaxed but he wasn’t letting you off that easily. He pulled his fingers from you, sticking them in his mouth to taste you. The sight was so erotic you were sure you could come again right then and there. He used his free hand to pull his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his aching cock.

“Jump,” he commanded. He finally let go of your hands as you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist. With his cock in his hand, he guided it to your entrance, not giving you time to prepare as he sank deep into you. “Fuck.”

He groaned, pushing to the hilt, his hips flush against yours. He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his composure. Then, he pulled back and thrust back in hard. He set a deep, hard pace. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as he pounded into you.

“Still so fucking tight,” he huffed, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to know there’d be bruises. There was nothing gentle about this. He was taking his frustrations out on you and you weren’t complaining one bit. “Bet nobody’s fucked you as good as I did, huh?”

He was right — nobody ever had but you couldn’t find your words to speak, too consumed with the way his cock dragged against your walls. You could feel every inch of him, a second orgasm already approaching. When you didn’t answer, one of his hands slid up to wrap around your throat, not applying pressure, just enough to force you to look at him. “Answer me.”

“No, nobody has.”

“Good girl.”

That was it. Your second orgasm hit you like a truck, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. He groaned at the feeling of your walls clamping down around him. He didn’t let up, though. He was still hammering into you.

“Seunghyun,” you whined, your hips bucking into his. 

“Come on, you’ve got one more in you. Be a good girl and cum for me again,” his hand slid under your shirt now, tugging down the cup of your bra. His thumb brushed over your nipple, his lips finding your neck. “Give me what I deserve, princess.”

He bit down gently, his tongue darting out to soothe your skin, leaving a mark there so you could remember this moment for days to come. He could feel his orgasm fast approaching, his hips stuttering but he wanted you to cum again first. His fingers trailed down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their way as he found your clit once again. One press of his thumb against your sensitive bud and you were coming again.

“Oh, shit… I’m gonna cum,” he grunted, thrusting into you one more time to the hilt, emptying himself inside you. “Take it, princess.”

His hips jerked as he finished, his head falling to your shoulder. Both of you were panting hard, your mind foggy from the three mind blowing orgasms he’d just given you. Tenderly, you ran your hand through his hair causing him to sigh. When he lifted his head to look at you, there was no venom behind his eyes. Just hurt and confusion.

“You never said goodbye,” his voice was small, it broke your heart to hear how broken he sounded.

“I couldn’t. I… It was too hard. I’m sorry, Seunghyun. I’m so sorry. I don’t blame you for hating me.”

“I don’t hate you. I’m mad at you, I’m upset at you but that doesn’t mean I ever stopped loving you.”

Seunghyun pulled out of you, setting you back down on shaky legs. He tucked himself back into his pants, watching as you leaned against the wall. The silence that fell between you was suffocating. So many words needed to be said but neither knew how to say it. Seunghyun opened his mouth to talk but the lock on the door clicked and opened to show Jiyong.

“Oh, good, you’re both alive. Oppa, it’s almost showtime. Y/N, Steve will take you to your seats,” Jiyong had a knowing smile on his face causing both you and Seunghyun to roll your eyes. 

Seunghyun turned back to you, a war raging within himself but he seemingly came to a conclusion. “If you want to talk, meet me at my hotel room later.”

He started heading to the door when your voice caused him to spin around again. “How do I know where it is?”

“I’ll leave you a note,” he said with a bitter smile.

Yeah, you deserved that. So, now you had to figure out if it was actually a good idea to go to his hotel room and talk this whole thing out.

challenge taglist: @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @berfgrimm @loveesiren @sevendaysummer @gdinthehouseee @eru-vande @bluesunss @emmiesoverthemoon @petersasteria @currentloser @makeitworse @aizshallnotbefound @sherxoo

normal taglist: @justsisse @sherrayyyyy @fleabagspurplewife @gemzyy @bettelaboure @breakmeoff @flymetothexmoon

[msilwrites]

Midnight Snack Mystery (Simon 'Ghost' Fic) Part 1

Wife! Reader Pregnant! Reader Hungry! Reader Possessive! Ghost Possessive! Simon 'Ghost' Riley Possessive! Simon Ghost Riley Good Cook! Simon Ghost Riley Husband! Simon 'Ghost' Riley Hungry Wife! Reader. By this time he is already Captain or Major! or Lieutenant Col! Simon 'Ghost' Riley

 Part 2,  Part 3

Long, not so-long, but light hearted read. Warning: Don't read when hungry!! Summary: Pregnant with Simon's child, Y/N experiences intense late-night cravings. Her overprotective husband, Simon, keeps a close eye on her, ensuring she’s well taken care of. However, Y/N discovers a late-night noodle shop that serves her favorite foods—dumplings and noodles—and she can’t resist the temptation. She sneaks out in the dead of night for quick food runs, careful not to wake Simon. But Simon, ever the observant one, eventually catches her in the act and decides he’s not letting her sneak off again without a word.

----------

Midnight Snack Bust

Simon stirred slightly in his sleep, his instincts sharper than most even when off-duty. The weight on his chest—a comforting one—shifted, then disappeared altogether.

His eyes fluttered open in the darkness. Your side of the bed was empty, the covers pushed back, a slight chill left in their absence. Simon frowned. This wasn’t the first time.

He waited, still as a statue, listening for any sound that might tell him where you’d gone. The faint creak of the stairs gave you away.

Downstairs, you shuffled around the kitchen, carefully balancing a plate of toast smothered in butter, jam and honey. The thought of waking Simon was laughable—he was always in full protective mode, which meant no late-night snacks for you unless he hovered like a helicopter. Besides, you could handle it. The kitchen wasn’t that far from the bed.

Except, as you turned with your snack in hand, there he was.

Simon stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a shadowy figure of unimpressed authority. The glow from the fridge cast just enough light for you to see his raised brow.

“Really?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You froze like a deer caught in headlights, the plate in your hands trembling slightly. “I was hungry.”

“You could’ve woken me.”

“It’s toast, Simon. I think I can manage toast.”

He stepped forward, his size practically swallowing the kitchen whole. “Not about the toast, love. It’s about the stairs. And you bein’ pregnant. You fall, then what?”

You rolled your eyes, but he plucked the plate from your hands, setting it on the counter. Without another word, he scooped you up—scooped, like a bloody princess—and started carrying you back to bed.

“Simon!” you protested, flailing slightly.

“Shush,” he muttered. “You’ve got enough on your plate—literally—without riskin’ your neck for a midnight snack.”

----------

Back in bed, Simon pulled the covers over both of you, his arm locking you in place like a human seatbelt.

“Next time, wake me,” he said, his voice softer now. “You want toast, noodles, a bloody roast dinner—I’ll get it. Just don’t go sneakin’ about.”

You sighed, nestling into his chest. “Fine. But I’m holding you to the roast dinner.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Deal.”

---------- A Wonderful Discovery

One sunny afternoon, you and Price’s fiancée (A/N: Same person from Papa Bear!! Material ;) and many more in this universe of mine, lol! ) decided to meet at a charming little tea house. It had become a bit of a routine—your way of catching up without the boys around to interrupt with their dry humor and war stories.

She was her usual lively self, flipping through the menu even though she’d already decided on her order. You admired how she could make even the simplest thing—like picking a biscuit—seem like an adventure.

“I’ve got to tell you,” she said suddenly, setting her menu down. “There’s this noodle shop. Open late. Best dumplings you’ll ever have. Like, melt-in-your-mouth, life-changing dumplings.”

Your eyebrows rose. “Late-night noodles? Around here?”

She nodded, leaning forward as if sharing a state secret. “Not just noodles—bao buns, dumplings, the works. I discovered it after one of those long nights when John was stuck at the base, and I didn’t feel like cooking. It’s a lifesaver. You’re lucky—it’s right near your place.”

Your interest piqued immediately. The thought of sneaking out for some steaming hot noodles had your mouth watering. “How late are we talking?”

She grinned. “Oh, past midnight. Maybe even 2 or 3 AM.”

----------

That night, as you lay in bed listening to Simon’s soft snores, the thought of that noodle shop lingered. You could almost taste the broth, the tender dumplings, the savory goodness of a late-night food escapade.

The idea began to take root.

----------

Late Night Escape

The idea simmered in your mind all evening. By the time Simon had brushed his teeth, pulled on his oversized sleep shirt, and settled into bed, it had blossomed into a full-blown plan.

You waited. And waited. Timing was everything. Simon’s arm, draped heavily across your waist, rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing. His presence was solid and warm, a comforting weight—but tonight, it was your obstacle.

Carefully, you began to inch away, moving like a prisoner attempting to slip past a sleeping guard. His hand twitched, and you froze, holding your breath. After a long moment, he let out a soft snore.

Victory.

Sliding out of bed, you padded quietly to the wardrobe, pulling on Simon’s oversized hoodie and slipping into your trusty anti-slip slippers. The eco bag was stashed by the door, waiting. You slipped it over your shoulder, opened the door as quietly as you could, and stepped out into the cool night air.

The noodle shop wasn’t far, but with the chill nipping at your cheeks, it felt like forever. When you finally reached the warm glow of the restaurant, the smells of rich broth and freshly steamed dumplings greeted you like an old friend.

Sliding into a seat, you ordered a large bowl of noodles and a plate of dumplings. The first bite was pure heaven—warm, savory, comforting. This wasn’t just food. This was rebellion. A delicious act of defiance against Simon’s overprotectiveness.

You ate quickly, savoring each bite but keeping an eye on the clock. You couldn’t risk being gone too long, or Simon might wake up. When you finished, you wiped your hands, packed your leftovers into your eco bag, and headed home, feeling victorious.

----------

Simon hadn’t stirred when you returned. You slipped into bed, placing the bag under the bed for good measure. His arm instinctively found your waist again, and you smiled to yourself, utterly pleased.

But this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing.

----------

First Catch

It started feeling too easy. You’d mastered the art of sneaking out: the slow, deliberate slide from under Simon’s arm, the silent shuffle to the door, and the perfectly timed return. Your noodle escapades had become a nightly ritual.

But then, one night, your luck ran out.

You were tiptoeing into the kitchen, quietly opening the fridge to stash the leftover dumplings behind the unassuming bag of lettuce Simon would never touch, when a deep voice cut through the silence.

“Late-night fridge rearranging, are we?”

You jumped, spinning around with a gasp. Simon was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his imposing figure illuminated by the dim light of the open fridge.

Your mind scrambled for an excuse. “Uh... just wanted some water.”

“In my hoodie? And with an eco bag?” His eyebrow arched, unimpressed.

You tried to tuck the bag behind you, but Simon’s sharp eyes had already caught the unmistakable sheen of takeout containers poking out from the top. He strode forward, plucked the bag from your hands with an annoyingly effortless tug, and opened it.

The aroma of noodles and dumplings betrayed you instantly.

“Water, huh?” He held up a dumpling with mock seriousness. “This what they’re calling it these days?”

You gulped.

----------

Minutes later, you found yourself seated at the kitchen table like a scolded child. Simon, clad in sweatpants and a scowl, had taken over the stove. The sight of him cooking—rolling up his sleeves with a tired sigh—might’ve been endearing if you weren’t on the receiving end of his disapproval.

“You could’ve woken me,” he grumbled, cracking eggs into a bowl with more force than necessary.

“You were sleeping,” you mumbled.

“I’d rather get up than have you sneakin’ around at night,” he said, his tone gruff. “What if somethin’ happened, eh? You’re waddling about in the dark like a burglar.”

You snorted at the image, which earned you a sharp look.

“Not funny,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ll make the bloody noodles if that’s what you want. Just stop sneakin’ out.”

You stayed silent, chewing on your lower lip. No way were you telling him about the noodle shop.

---------

Close Call

Old habits die hard. A few nights later, you were returning from the noodle shop, quietly slipping into the kitchen to stash your leftovers behind the condiments, when Simon stirred upstairs.

He came padding down the stairs just as you were closing the fridge.

“You were gone,” he murmured groggily, rubbing his face.

“Kitchen,” you lied quickly, holding up an empty glass of water as proof.

He hummed, unconvinced, and squinted at you. “Should’ve woken me.”

“For the kitchen?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“For whatever,” he grunted, his eyes scanning the counter before settling on the fridge. “Don’t like you wanderin’ about on your own.”

You gave him your best innocent smile and shuffled past him toward the stairs. Simon followed a moment later, his suspicion lingering like a shadow.

----------

Growing Suspicion

It started with a nagging feeling Simon couldn’t shake. You were always warm when you came back to bed, slightly out of breath, and he could swear he caught the faintest hint of soy sauce and sesame lingering in the air.

One night, as you slid into bed beside him, he cracked an eye open just enough to catch you pulling off his oversized hoodie. You were trying to be quiet, moving with all the stealth of someone trying not to get caught.

He didn’t say anything. Not yet. But his mind was racing.

The next night, he pretended to be deep asleep as you started your routine. The slow untangling from his grasp, the soft shuffle to grab your hoodie and slippers. He cracked his eye open just as you tiptoed out of the room, eco bag in hand.

Simon lay there for a moment, his jaw tightening. He didn’t believe in jumping to conclusions without evidence—years of military experience had drilled that into him. But this was his wife, and the secrecy was starting to itch.

----------

The Watchful Eye

The next few nights, Simon kept up his act. He watched you go through the same routine: hoodie on, bag in hand, slippers padding softly across the floor. Each time, he waited until you were out of earshot before sitting up and staring at the door.

He debated following you right then and there but decided against it. Instead, he lay back, staring at the ceiling, letting the suspicion simmer.

Until one night, he’d had enough.

----------

Caught in the Act

Simon Riley, a man known for his ability to track an enemy through any terrain in total darkness, cracked one eye open as he heard the faint creak of the bedroom door. His wife, waddling like a stealthy penguin in his oversized hoodie, had escaped once again.

He sat up, running a hand down his face, and muttered, “Bloody hell.” This was the third time this week, and it was starting to feel personal. He reached for his jumper, his movements slow and deliberate.

By the time Simon made it outside, you were already a good distance ahead, waddling down the street with your eco bag swinging by your side. He trailed behind, staying in the shadows like a proper ghost, his breath visible in the chilly night air.

When you entered the noodle shop, he stopped just outside, watching through the window. You were already at a corner table, your face lighting up as the server placed a steaming bowl of noodles in front of you. Then came the dumplings, and your joy was almost palpable.

Simon shook his head, muttering, “Unbelievable,” before pushing the door open. The little bell above the door jingled, but you didn’t notice—too engrossed in your noodles.

He approached silently, stopping just behind you. “Enjoyin’ yourself, are ya?”

You froze mid-slurp, a noodle dangling from your lips. That voice. You’d recognize that deep, gravelly tone anywhere.

Slowly, you turned your head to see Simon standing there, arms crossed and a single brow arched. His expression was equal parts amusement and exasperation.

“I, uh…” You scrambled for an excuse, your voice muffled by the noodle still in your mouth. “Toilet break?”

“Toilet break?” he repeated, pulling out the chair across from you and sitting down. “Love, the loo doesn’t serve dumplings.”

A/N:

Just a heads up—Captain Price’s fiancée in this story is the same lady from Papa Bear Material—Mama Bear! So, if you've read that story, you might recognize her. As for the characters of Y/N, both are technically the same person, so feel free to choose who you identify with!

Y/N’s been caught. And now, Simon’s not having it. And with that, stay tuned for Part 2. Simon’s not letting this go anytime soon…

Edit: Part 2 is here!----->

[seacret-tarot]

☁️🌑 What are you not seeing clearly right now? What needs your attention? 🔮🔍

Pick a Pile - Tarot and Oracle Reading

1 2

3 4

Hello everyone~

Hope you got through the Eclipse(s) alright; I know I felt them 🙈 Today I got a timeless PAC for you about what you might not be seeing clearly or what could need more of your attention. I'll be using the Nameless One Tarot, the Oracle of Oddities and the Wild Unknown Archetypes Oracle. I'll also roll some dice for lucky or significant numbers/signs/houses/planets that can be taken as confirmation if you want (though they are not necessarily included in the interpretation of the reading). Please choose whatever picture you feel most drawn to.

Hope you enjoy your reading and thanks for stopping by!

[Disclaimer: Please use your own judgement when making any decisions based on a tarot reading. Magick and readings are meant to supplement, not replace professional advice. Since this is a general reading, only take what resonates with you – and at the end of the day, we all have free will and the power to shape our lives.]

Pile 1

cards: anxiety; the box (44); the jester of cups; 5 of cups; 9 of pentacles dice: number 8; 7th house/pisces/mercury

It looks like you might be ignoring - or downplaying - anxieties about the structures/constraints you find yourself in. We have a literal box here, with its borders multiplying and closing in on themselves more and more until there is almost no more room to move. But in the center something is still glowing, like a mini sun. What is it your keeping in? What is trying to shine but not being given enough room?

The number 44 - or 4 in itself - is also speaking of stability and rules and therefore alluding to the authority of the Emperor in Tarot, a figure that in a negative position can feel oppressing and overwhelming. You might feel like you can't live out your emotions in the way you want. Whether imposed on you by circumstances and upbringing (which it looks more like to me, with the bats attacking the flowers from outside in the anxiety card), or perpetuated by yourself now, any worries or negatively perceived emotions you might have are being shut down. Alternatively, if you're already aware of those limits, you might feel anxiety about how to deal with them, or how to deal with a balance between that restriction and what could be sensed as a threatening outpouring of emotion.

The Jester of Cups represents the water element and all water signs, and as a person stands for someone who is emotionally open, sensitive and playful. Perhaps there is a disappointment - or a sort of apathy, if you look at the cat's demeanor in the 5 of Cups - that you are quite literally looking away from, that you're maybe not allowing yourself to fully process. Some kind of hurt or loss could also contribute to the shutting off of emotions, if it feels like you could protect yourself through that. I think, though, that if you acknowledge your more emotional side in a healthy way again (or learn do that) and manage to nurture it and give it space - with the water and earth energies present here - you'll see that it will only lead to making your life richer in all regards.

Pile 2

cards: joy; the ring (57); ace of wands; 8 of cups; 9 of swords dice: number: 15; 8th house/capricorn/saturn

It might be time soon to wake up from your slumber and light a little fire in your life - joy is just around the corner! My personal association with the Ring card is the reminder that you have support from a friendly soul - whether in the material world or from somewhere else (or both!), depending on what you believe in. In the guidebook the ring speaks about interconnectedness and eternity, but also repetition. With the ring being so intertwined in itself and in connection with the Joy card, I think you're getting a notice here that positivity and a love for life will keep coming back to you again and again. You know the belief about how the love you pour out in the world will always come back to you (even multiplied)? That's what it's reminding me of.

Unfortunately that reminder might be very needed - you could recently have had a hard time dealing with fears and worries (9 of Swords), that left you feeling immobilized and isolated from that very world, and now you could be trying to find your way back in. If you're not out of your nightmare phase yet, there could also be a warning here to not keep falling into the same destructive cycles over again.

It's a hopeful sign to me, though, that the cat in the 8 of Cups card is sleeping so restfully, in comparison to the 9 of Swords. The traditional "walking away from disappointment" meaning of the 8 of Cups in Tarot is somewhat subvered here; whatever has happened throughout the cat's day, she's leaving it behind with a sound and guiltfree mind, resting as she deserves. So, it's time to walk away from what doesn't serve you and to find your peace - in order for you to gather the energy to kindle the flames of what you want to bring light to the world with, and find your spark of joy again.

Pile 3

cards: voice; the mother (1); 7 of wands; king of wands (aries); ace of pentacles dice: number: 5; 6th house/sagittarius/pluto

Whatever it is you're trying to do (whatever it is you're burning for even), there's a strong message here to keep going for it. The repeating 1s - in the Mother card, the Aries mention as the first sign in the Zodiac, the Ace of Pentacles - and fire - the 7 and the King of Wands - can often speak about manifesting energy or bringing something completely new into the world out of nothing. So, the reminder here might be to not fall into the temptation of putting your goals and passions on the backburner.

The Mother card represents the theme of manifestation quite literally - but I think she also warns to not get too cozy in her nest and rather become the manifestor yourself. The King of Wands is also a great representative of this kind of thinking and acting, as he's a master of transforming sparks of inspiration and ideas into tangible results and creations, of building something out of it. As a represent of Aries (the first sign, but also the first house) he is also all about action and being guided by your truest self. Getting into his mindset as well as embodying the 7 of Wands - protecting your creations - as a visualized goal should help a lot.

There is also quite literally visible growth; as you speak, as you find your authentic, genuine voice and live your truth from the heart, you will make something grow and speak it into the real world. Simultaneously, you are encouraged to plant the first seeds in the tangible matters of earthly successes to get the ball rolling.

Pile 4

cards: imagination; the mentor (6); 3 of cups; 8 of pentacles; 4 of wands dice: number: 9: 11th house/pisces/mercury

The cards here are actually making me wonder if you're a student or have been thinking of getting back into studying something. There's definitely a more youthful energy in this pile with the childlike skull in the Imagination card and a Mentor figure mentioned. The party themes of the 3 of Cups and the 4 of Wands, which speak about getting together with others and celebrating something, also remind me of initiation/graduation or college parties - friendships (3) are being built or strengthened, whereas the stability (4) of an endeavor is honored, maybe even ceremoniously.

On the other hand there's the stack of books in the 8 of Pentacles. It looks like it belongs to someone who's studying hard and probably will be returning soon to continue doing so. I do think there might be something you're currently dedicating a lot of time on in order to be able to perfect it eventually.

Whether you are formally in education or feverishly working on something else, I feel like the reminder in this pile is to let loose a bit, to let that childlike wonder and imagination meander in a more playful manner (note the heart at the center of the child's daydreams) and to seize opportunities for celebration or give them more space in your life or even create them yourself and nourish your friendships and family relations. Whenever you go back to your desk and roam through your books, you will likely still have support from a Mentor figure (material or not) watching over you and helping you accomplish your goals.

[galactic-rhea]

I was thinking back of some of the concept art for Encanto I always loved and... Long rambling ahead.

YUP! I remain obssesed wiwth it, especially the first one, the black butterflies!! In many latinoamerican countries (including mine) black butterflies in a home are a bad omen, to the point there's people absolutely scared of them (I have met a few, personaly); so the incorporation to it not only gives such a creepy image, but is an awesome call back to the culture.

The one where is raining on Mirabel's side of the house is also a perfect example of Magical Realism; the author whose work was first referred to as magical realism (in literature) had a short story called The Rain, in the story, the rain represents love, it doesn't really have much to do with the story in Encanto or the concept art on itself, just something that I remembered.

In Hundred years of Solitude, it rains for four years and the rain starts eating away the Buendías's house and destroying their fortune, and the decline of the house is what start of the town's decline as they're linked to the family.

I always said that Encanto was like a super sanitized and family friendly version of Hundred years of Solitude, and honestly I can see that a lot in the concept art, much more easily than in the movie

And to me, the biggest expression of Magical Realism in the concept art, is this one:

the mundane mixing with the nonsensical and magic, but the being accepted as part of the natural world without further questioning. And here's more of this on other of the concept art:

Magical realism as a term started being referred to art styles that depict something that objetively normal, has an uncanny element and often somewhat satirical. However, as a genre in literature, it started in Latin America, inspired by surrealism.

Is not just magic, is magic within a mundane world and being accepted as part of their lives. Latinoamerican literature tends to be fatallistic and crude; and magical realism follows similar steps, because the fantasy element isn't taken as something grandiose and something capable of solving every problem; the contrary, it just becomes something that just happens, and life goes on, and this usually means tragedy and death as well.

The magic isn't the cause, nor the solution, not even helpful because these stories kept on being harsh and sometimes cruel, in a sense Magical Realism reminds me more of Gothic Horror than Fantasy. Thousands years of solitude has these magic, fantastic elements, but it keeps on being a tale of the cyclical misery of the Buendías, that doesn't end until their entire destruction along with Macondo.

The Buendías aren't even meant to be liked (as in, good people), because they're supposed to be a selfish self-obssesed, land owners and the elite group that ruins the lives of others and keep digging their own graves.

For another example, the story that i mentioned, The Rain not only has a social commentary, but it ends in a very bitter sweet note, with a couple finally seeing the rain after a drought, but losing the kid that magically rekindled their love for each other. A lot of latinoamerican literature ends with painfully bittersweet, if not outright hopeless endings (Chronicle of a Death Foretold literally tells you, just with the title, what you will get into. Is a very cruel story and it has zero closure, the original "Dead dove do not eat/I don't know what i was expecting". Another example, Dead Houses is...well, is a bit more hopeful, but the cruelty is there and right on the face.)

Neither of these things fit very well for a disney family friendly movie, but just the fact they dared to show us Pedro's death and it being the origin of Encanto is a good enough attempt.

And a lot of these concept art does give a very dark tone, visually. I can see the attempt at trying to mix the whimsical of usual disney movies and the crudeness of the genre it takes its inspiration.

Another little bits that make me think of Encanto and Hundred Years of Solicitude, is that something important in the novel's narrative, is that Macondo is kinda trapped in time, both because of how remote the town is, but also because of the magic element; the huge impact of the town when outsiders and new technology arrives sometimes is taken as another magic element (they see ice, and believe it must be magic). Encanto has a similar setting, the exact time is taking place is hard to determine and there's some anacronisms. And also, the soap opera that Bruno's rats are "playing" is literally a nod to two characters in TYS; Amaranta Úrsula and Aureliano.

In the final version of the movie, some of these vibes the concept art shows was lost, but at its core it retains the key elements of magical realism! However, sometimes I wonder what would have someone like Guillermo del Toro done with the basic plot of Encanto, I have the strong suspicion that we would have ended with something much, much closer to actual magical realism

Ending this with, idk, watch Encanto. Or even better, read some latinoamerican literature (besides Gabriel García Márquez, whom I have a beef with. Can I suggest Julio Córtazar, Pilar Romero, Isabel Allende, Liliana Bodoc, Angelica Gorodischer, Juan Rulfo, Miguel Otero Silva, and Horacio Quiroga?)

[godmadeaterribleerror]

You Can Feel It - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Main Masterlist - Series Masterlist

Author's Note: They are in 2026 because I am bad at math. Enjoy!

Chapter Title from You Are In Love by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 8.6k

Summary/Warnings: Ben has a birthday. Takes place on May 19th, post-series.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, pre-established relationship, so much horniness, smut (breeding kink, oral, fingering, p in v)

Read on A03!

She was planning something. 

And She was always planning something, but this time, it was different. 

This time, Ben had asked Her not to plan anything, and She was fucking doing it anyway. 

“Ben.” She’d hummed a few months ago, straddling him in bed and holding his face between Her hands. “Your birthday is next month.”

He’d scowled. “How the fuck do you know that-“

“Because you’re my husband, and I love you very much, and,” She’d smiled at him, all Her love infinite and humming in Ben’s body. “You told me.”

“I didn’t fucking tell you so it could be celebrated, Sunshine.” He’d grunted, rubbing small circles on Her thighs, and She’d frowned at him.

“You don’t want us to celebrate your birthday?”

“No. I fucking don’t.”

“Why?” She’d leaned forward, pressing Her brow to Ben’s. “Most people never get to be a hundred and seven, and have a party where they can like, fucking walk around-“

Ben had snorted, and cut Her off with a long, deep kiss. Smartass. You like that I’m fucking old-

I know. She’d mumbled between their heads, Her fingers curling against Ben’s chest. But I think my point still stands-

I am not having a fucking birthday party.

Why? She’d pulled back, Her face wide and open and so fucking beautiful, and Ben had sighed.

Because I’m not some fucking pussy child who needs cake to know I aged a year.

What if I need cake to know you’ve aged a year? She’d raised Her brows. Can we do it then?

No.

But you did cake for Ryan’s birthday-

Ryan’s a literal fucking child. And he’d needed it. Ben had frowned at the air. Kid kept goddamn apologizing for being born. 

She’d sighed, and leaned fully forward to bury Her face in Ben’s chest. I know. And you were so good to him, Ben, but maybe I, She’d grinded down on him, and Ben had grunted as his cock twitched in his sweats. Fucking Christ, She was too perfect. It was going to goddamn kill him. Want to be good to you.

You are good to me, Sunshine. Ben had thrusted up in a pretty fucking genius move of retaliation, and She’d whined as he squeezed Her ass. You’re fucking perfect, and I goddamn love you, and that’s it. I don’t fucking need anything else-

What if I want to give you other things?

Then you can let me fuck you stupid, darling.

She’d mumbled something that sounded like fucking cunt, and Ben had laughed, leaning down to press a kiss on the top of Her head.

“Fucking brat.” He’d murmur in Her ear, and She’d let out a long breath, leaning back with a soft smile.

“I’m not going to push it,” She’d whispered. “But can you please tell me why you don’t want to celebrate your birthday? I- I know it’s painful, Ben.” Her hand had glided up to rest of his chest, and he’d tensed. “I can feel it here. Please.”

He’d taken a heavy, slow breath, and there was nothing in the fucking world he wouldn’t give Her or do in Her name. It was why after this, he had to get up and let the damn cat out, and later he’d be picking their son up from school, and then he’d make Her a good fucking dinner and fuck Her until she was a writhing, happy mess below him.

Bu that also meant he had to give Her the damn truth.

And Ben didn’t lie to his wife anyway. 

But he’d really been hoping to not talk about this one. 

“Last year.” He’d muttered, holding Her sharp, pretty gaze as he spoke, and running a hand under Her shirt—his shirt, looking fucking perfect on Her body—to hold Her by the waist. “My birthday was fucking shit. And I don’t want to celebrate it again.”

“Last-“ Her eyes had widened slightly, and Ben had felt Her still. Almost felt Her own cold, deep fear creep into his own blood, Her heartbeat picking up in his ears. “Oh.”

He’d nodded, pulling Her a little tighter into his chest. “Spent the whole fucking day missing you, and wishing you were home. Didn’t feel like there was fucking shit to celebrate without you, and I’m too damn old for birthdays. Won’t be enough candles in the fucking world.”

“I could find them.” She’d mumbled. “Or just be the candle myself. And I’m here now, Ben.”

“I know you are, Sunshine.” He’d sighed, pressing kiss to the top of Her head. “And that’s all I fucking need. No party.”

She’d hummed, and they’d stayed just like for a while longer before the day had started. Ben had even gotten to haul Her up on the dresser, and fucked Her until he was marking Her legs and abdomen with his release, and Her eyes were glazed with something other than pain. 

He’d hoped She’d forget. Or just let it the fuck go.

He should have known better.

Because Ben knew She was planning something. Whenever he asked what the fuck are you up to, Sunshine, She’d just smile at him and shrug. 

Which meant She couldn’t answer. Because whatever She said would be a goddamn lie. 

So She was fucking planning something.

Ben cornered Annie at a team meeting night—Hughie would have been easier, but the pussy had stayed home with their stupid damn baby, so Ben was stuck with Annie—and tried for just one fucking answer.

It didn’t work. 

“I’m not saying anything, Ben.” Annie didn’t even look up from her cooking, when he approached. “So don’t bother trying.”

Ben narrowed his eyes. “So there is fucking something.”

Annie just shrugged, and didn’t say another goddamn word.

Butcher wasn’t any better.

“Didn’t even know you had a birthday, Gov.” He drawled, and Ben scowled.

“I wasn’t made in a fucking lab, you asscuck-“

“Shit, that’s right, ain’t it.” Butcher grinned at him, spinning around in his chair. “Nothin’ but pure natural genetics in your pretty face, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart-“

“Shame, though. I’d shoot my shot with ya, Mate, if your lady wouldn’t fuckin’ burn my eyeballs out.” Butcher whistled, and just kept goddamn spinning. “America’s first cunt family-“

“Butcher.” Frenchie had wheeled into view from the backroom, where all the drugs Ben wasn’t allowed to touch were kept. “I will not save you if he shoots you. I will laugh.”

“Not my fault the cunt’s so bloody fun to push.” Butcher had rolled his eyes, and started wheeling to the room, taking a million goddamn years. “How’s the new gun comin’?”

Ben had fucking known wheelie chairs would be a horrible fucking idea. But nobody goddamn listened to him but Her. 

Maybe not Her.

He was going out of his fucking mind about it. She wouldn’t just ignore him like that, but She was also fucking hiding something. And She didn’t have a golden fucking record on the things She hid from Ben. The last thing She’d hidden was that she’d been taking fucking drugs that made Her think he didn’t love Her. Bad shit happened when She goddamn hid things from him.

And it was good that they were all so fucking loyal to Her. Nobody deserved it more than She did, and nobody had earned it more either. 

But nobody would fucking tell Ben shit. Kimiko just ignored him. Hughie got all fucking red-faced and ran away like a goddamn coward, and MM just muttered trust your wife, man.

Ben did fucking trust Her. 

Just not Her brilliant, stupid fucking plans. 

“Ryan.” He grunted in the kitchen, and Ryan looked up with the same open, wide-eyed look that crossed Her face so often. 

The kid had been picking up a lot of Her habits. He was even tapping his pencil on the papers as he waited for Ben to continue.

She was such a good fucking mother. And if Ben had any damn say in it, Ryan would have a sibling by the end of the year. They fucked too often for it not to happen.

Not the fucking point right now. Picturing Her with a soft smile and baby in Her arms, talking to Ryan about some smart shit while Ben took care of everything else wasn’t going to help him figure out what the fuck She was planning.

“My birthday is next weekend.” Ben watched Ryan carefully as he spoke. “You know anything about that shit?”

Ryan frowned at him. “About your birthday?”

Ben gave a short nod, and Ryan shrugged.

“I know that it’s next week. May 19th. And you’re going to be a hundred and seven, which means you were born in 1919. Huh, there’s a lot of  nineteens in your birthday-“

“Ryan.” Ben grunted, and—just fucking like Her—the kid’s mouth snapped shut. “I know when my own damn birthday is. What the fucking is happening.”

“You’re getting older?”

Christ on a fucking cross, She’d trained the kid well. “Well, what the fuck is happening on the day.”

“Um, it’s a Tuesday, so I think I have a math test-“

Ben grunted Her name, bracing his arms on the counter and leaning forward. “What the fuck is she planning?”

Ryan swallowed, his heartbeat picking up slightly. Not enough for fear. 

The exact, frantic pace of a fucking lie.

“I- I think she told me she’s got a meeting about some new lawsuits against Vought-“

“For my birthday. I know she’s up to something, Ryan. Tell me.”

Ryan blinked at him, his mouth opening slowly, and Ben fucking had it-

“Don’t answer that, Ryan.” She fucking materialized in the kitchen, and Ben scowled. 

You were supposed to be in the fucking bathroom, Sunshine-

I finished. She moved to Ryan’s side, glaring at Ben over his head. “Stop bullying my son, Benjamin.”

Ben managed to roll his eyes, although She could probably feel the warmth building in his chest from how Ryan sat a little taller at Her words.

Her son. 

God fucking dammit. 

“I’m not bullying him-“

“Yes, you were.”

Ryan looked up at Her with wide, nervous eyes. “He- he wasn’t-“

“I know, Ry.” She gave him a soft smile, and Ben couldn’t even hold his scowl. “I’m giving him shit because he’s a cunt.”

Brat.

Shut up. “You want to go get ready for bed?”

Ryan nodded, shuffling away with an almost worried look in Ben’s direction, and he gave a small nod in return. He was a grown fucking man. He’d be fine.

She was just as fucking terrifying as She was beautiful, when Her glare turned back in his direction, but Ben would be fine. 

She loved him.

She still looked fucking pissed.

“Hi, Sunshine-“

“Don’t hi, Sunshine, me, you old fuckhat.”

Shit.

“Don’t, push him like that, Ben-“

“I wasn’t fucking pushing him-“

“Yes, you were. And I- He worships the fucking ground you walk on Ben, and he would have told you-“

“Why don’t you want him to tell me?” Ben snapped, forcing his voice to stay firm, but even. He wouldn’t yell at Her. Ever. Even when She was being an infuriating, perfect pain in his ass. “No secrets, Sunshine-“

“It’s not a secret-“

“You just won’t fucking tell me-“

“Because I- I’m saving it, Ben-“

“For my birthday.” His jaw clenched, his words pushed through his teeth. “I told you I didn’t want to fucking celebrate it-“

“I- I know-“ She shook Her head, Her voice growing soft. “I do, I promise, and I’m going to listen to you. No party, no big deal, there’s just something else and I can’t tell you yet, but I want to, and I- I love you, I’m sorry.”

She’d fucking apologized. And pressed herself back against the counter.

Away from Ben. 

Fucking- That wasn’t supposed to fucking happen. Ever. Ben couldn’t even goddamn really remember why he’d been that made, he just wanted Her to come back and stop looking so fucking sad. It was making him feel heavy and a little choked, his fists clenching to grab for Her, pull Her into his chest and make Her feel better, do whatever he had to for Her to smile again, and stop moving away from him.

Ben muttered Her name, taking a careful step forward, relief crashing through his chest like a goddamn wave when She didn’t flinch away. It was just one fucking fight. Couples fought. 

And he’d fix it. For Her, he’d fucking apologize on his goddamn knees like some pussy.

Ben could fix it.

“I- I’m sorry-“

“Don’t.” He grunted, taking another step, and She leaned into him immediately. Pressing Her face into Ben’s chest and wrapping Her arms around his torso, clinging to him even though he was the fucking shitfuck asshole who made the most perfect woman in the world cry. There was a weak sound that left Her throat, ripping through Ben’s body and strangling his chest, but he kept himself upright and held Her against his body. 

He kept Her there for a few minutes until Her heart and breathing were steady, then tugged lightly on Her hair until her head tipped back, Her eyes glossy as they met his. 

Listen. He let out a slow breath, dropping his brow to Her’s. I fucking love you-

I- I know, Ben, but-

No. I love you, and I trust you, and I was wrong. Shouldn’t have pushed Ryan, when I trust you. I just- He took another heavy breath, and shook his head against Her’s. Fucking Christ, Sunshine, that was the worst goddamn month of my life. Spent the whole fucking day just missing you and thinking about how I couldn’t help you. 

You did help me-

Didn’t fucking feel like it in the moment. Ben grunted between their heads, his grip on Her tightening slightly. And I’m a hundred and fucking seven. Goddamn stupid to celebrate that. 

She hummed, offering him a small smile. I don’t think it’s stupid. 

Of course you don’t. He chuckled, moving to press a kiss to Her brow. I’m sorry, Sunshine. Fucking love you. Won’t do that to Ryan again, either-

She let out a soft giggle, shaking Her head. I think Ryan’s more worried about you.

Then I’ll fucking apologize for that. Ben frowned into the air. Kid shouldn’t have to take on our shit too.

She nodded, pressing Her head back into Ben’s chest with a soft hum. Thank you, my love.

Ben scowled. I made you fucking cry-

And you apologized. And I’m still pissed at you. She leaned back, Her eyes sharp on Ben’s, and he couldn’t stop his grin. But I feel better. And if you really want to know now-

No. Ben cut Her off between their heads with a long, deep kiss. Trust you. Fucking meant it. And that was a stupid fucking thing to fight about. 

We’ve fought about stupider. She smiled against his lips. And I won, for the record.

Ben just laughed, drawing back to grin at Her. I think I fucking won, darling. Because the best part of fighting is now that it’s done, I get to fuck you stupid.

She wrinkled Her nose at him, even as a slightly flush covered Her perfect features. We were going to fuck anyway, you horny old cunt-

Don’t fucking care. Ben hauled Her fully into his arms, kissing Her neck and marching for the stairs. Still so fucking perfect, Sunshine. Going to make you feel so fucking good, show you how fucking sorry I am until you’re cumming all over my goddamn cock-

God fucking- She moaned, dropping Her face into his neck. Ben-

I know, darling. You want to feel good? Want me to fuck you full of me, fuck you pregnant- 

Ben, please-

Never going to make you fucking cry again. His words were more for himself. 

She still needed to hear them. 

Fucking swear it, Ben grunted Her name, leaning back to meet Her gaze. You’re fucking perfect, and I trust you with my goddamn life-

I know, Benjamin, my love. She gave him a soft smile, and nothing his Ben’s body hurt at all. You think you can fuck me pregnant?

His cock twitched in his pants. She knew exactly what the fuck She was doing, looking so fucking smug and beautiful and smart in Ben’s arms. 

All goddamn his.

Such a fucking brat, he muttered between their heads, biting slightly on Her neck and smirking at Her squeak. Are you fucking doubting me, darling?

No-

Sounds like you’re fucking doubting me. Like you think I’m not going to fuck you until you can’t goddamn walk.

She whined, Her nails pressing against his neck. Ben, please-

Going to take good care of you. He muttered, leaving an open mouth kiss over Her throat. Fucking love you, Sunshine. You’re my goddamn world-

I know. She smiled against his skin, and for a second, Ben could feel it.

All Her love, burning and vast and unending, all for him, alive in his chest. 

She knew. Ben had dedicated his whole fucking life to Her and Ryan, so She knew.

And he did apologize to Ryan later. Mostly because the kid deserved it—and She’d been right, because She always was right, and Ryan had been more worried about Ben than himself—but a little to show Her. He could be a good father. He could take accountability and apologize to his kids, like a real goddamn man. Apologize and mean it. Never fucking do it again, and keep proving that he was trying. 

He was always fucking trying. 

But She still wasn’t pregnant. And She’d said She wanted this, but it wasn’t happening. And if She didn’t, Frenchie said Her body would stop it.

They didn’t lie to each other. They never fucking lied to each other, and Ben trusted Her, but fucking Christ he couldn’t stop the tension over his shoulders about it. That She didn’t want this, and She was just doing it for him. She should never have to do shit for anyone, let alone Ben. He was supposed to do shit for Her. That was the whole goddamn point, was that She fixed everything for everyone and then came back to Ben. And he’d love Her and worship her however She fucking needed. 

Ben trusted Her. He wasn’t going to push it. 

But he was still goddamn worried. 

And the week passed, and half of him forgot about the stupid birthday. He cared more about Her anyway. About climbing over Her in bed and kissing Her until she sighed his name into his mouth. And Ben had other shit to do, as well. Ryan needed help with homework, and Her goddamn cat kept sitting on Ben’s paperwork, and no matter how much he grunted that Maeve needed to fucking move, nothing worked. He picked the thing up and set it on the floor, and it just jumped into his goddamn lap.

She adored this stupid thing. Ryan did too. And Ben didn’t… hate it. Anymore.

Still occupied him, though. Having to explain to Butcher why goddamn cat hair was all over the files. And it didn’t help that he’d been feeling strange all week. Not sick—Ben didn’t fucking get sick—but strange.

So he forgot.

And then he woke up, and it was his stupid goddamn birthday.

Nothing was fucking happening. Ben had gotten confirmation She’d been planning something, but he couldn’t goddamn figure out what. The day was identical to every other fucking Tuesday. Ben rolled Her onto her stomach and fucked Her until she was cumming all over his cock and the room was dancing with warm lights and mist, then fucked Her in shower with her pretty tits in his hands and his mouth attached to Her neck. 

He made sure Ryan was good for school, drove Her to work—fingering Her in the car, the air waving from heat as She grabbed his arm and orgasmed with a moan—and went in for a few hours to pretend to work. 

There were no jobs to do, so they mostly just sat around and did jack fucking shit. Frenchie and Kimiko were watching something called a drag race that had nothing to do with cars, and Butcher was spinning in his stupid fucking chair while Ben tried to get Her attention. 

Sunshine-

I’m working, Ben.

You could be fucking talk to me instead.

Or I could finish this meeting and come home early. 

Just come home right fucking now, and we can watch that stupid fucking Zombie show-

That stupid Zombie show made you cry, Pretty Boy.

No, it fucking didn’t. Ben scowled at the air. It was just a sad fucking story, and I’m not a fucking heartless dickass-

I know. Ben could hear the smile in Her voice. I’d live with you in a bunker until we both died, Benjamin.

Good. But I’d kill all the stupid pussy zombies.

Of course you would, my love.

Shut up. Ben paused, then added. Let’s go home.

Nope. Need to work.

But it’s my fucking birthday.

I thought you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday-

I want my fucking wife, Sunshine, is that goddamn crime. You didn’t even wish me happy birthday-

Happy birthday, Benjamin, my love, you dramatic fucking cunt.

Ben didn’t bother to hide his grin. Brat.

You love it. I’ll be home in three hours.

She turned back into only a presence—happy and calm—over Ben’s head, and he could do three hours. 

Three hours had fucking nothing on him. Ben would fucking destroy three hours. 

Before he left for the day, though, he couldn’t manage to escape gifts. At least they weren’t total fucking shit. Kimiko and Frenchie got him some weed—thank fucking Christ—and Butcher got him a Hawaiian shirt because he was a fucking dickhead. 

“You’ll look better in it anyway,” She hummed when Ben showed Her, his arm thrown around Her shoulders to keep her pressed against him.

The only thing he wanted for his birthday was Her fucking there. And the moment he’d felt Her getting close—Annie dropping Her off with only a smile and nod at Ben—he’d felt an iron weight over his chest lift.

He hadn’t even registered it until She was there. And it wasn’t there most days, because She could take care of her fucking self. 

But Ben had just kept thinking about their old, empty apartment, and Her blank expression on the TV. 

He just fucking wanted Her here. In comparison, other gifts were all fucking dogshit. Ben liked them just fine—a future surprise gift from Annie, Phillies tickets from Hughie, and a card that just said fucking congrats from MM, along with more weed—but none of them were fucking Her.

Her and Ryan were really all that Ben goddamn wanted. Needed. Could ever fucking need. 

And that made this birthday, in the end, better than any of the fucking others. Ben had gotten parties before, and they’d been big fucking shitshows. Full of drinks with some of the most annoying fucking pussies on the planet, a million compliments and gifts from people he didn’t care about, and sex with faceless women.

There were no drinks tonight, but Ryan had made Ben burgers, and beamed with an unmistakable pride when Ben called them good fucking food. She’d gotten him a malt vanilla ice cream cake, and stuck seven candles in it with a teasing smile and kiss over his beard.

Ben wasn’t fucking having that. He tangled a hand in Her hair and turned to capture Her into a full, long, open-mouthed kiss, going and going until She was leaning over him and gasping softly into his mouth. 

Happy seventh birthday, Ben. She mumbled when he pulled back, and he chuckled and nipped on Her lower lip.

Smartass. 

She just hummed and wrapped Her arms around Ben’s neck as he turned back to Ryan, and asked him about school. 

There were no empty compliment or gifts, either. Ryan got Ben a shit looking mug that the kid had made in his art class, and Ben was never going to use another fucking mug again. 

“It, um,” Ryan had cleared his throat, pointing to odd painting job. “It says number one dad. I think. I tried to make it say number one dad, but painting is hard, and I-“

“Ryan.” Ben grunted, holding the kid’s nervous gaze. “It’s good. Don’t lose your damn mind.”

Ryan nodded, shifting like he wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next, and Ben rolled his eyes and pulled him into a hug. 

“You did well, kid.” He muttered, low enough for only Ryan to hear. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Ryan whispered. “I- Thank you for- You know-“

Ben squeezed Ryan. “I do.”

She was smiling at Ben when he pulled away.

And that was the best goddamn part. 

Ben got to pull Her into another kiss, feel Her melt into his body, and know that She was here. With him. Safe and fucking happy. 

So Ben wouldn’t be having sex with any faceless women on his birthday. 

It would just be Her, for the rest of his fucking life. 

——————

It’s a miracle Ben hasn’t noticed. That he hasn’t walked you backwards against a wall or pinned you down in bed with a frown, kissing you until you were dizzy then demanding to know what was wrong.

And nothing is wrong.

It isn’t. 

Everything is good. Ben is good, Ryan is good, and you’re really good. 

There’s something eating at your gut, and you feel a little light-headed and wired, but it will be better soon. You’ll tell Ben, and the tension will leave your head and slow in your hands, and everything will be good. 

It will be.

You have a plan. 

Ryan goes to Butcher’s, after you finish dinner. Ben scowls at the sight of the man on your doorstep, but before their usual grunting, puffed chest stand-off can start, you place your hand on Ben’s arm and give him a soft smile.

Stand down, Pretty Boy. I asked him to take Ryan for the night.

He frowns at you. Why the fuck would you do that.

I don’t think you’re going to be able to keep quiet.

That’s all you have to say. 

Ben lets Butcher take Ryan—although not before giving him a tight hug and muttering that he’ll to pick him up in the morning—and Butcher doesn’t in a single have fun rimmin’ each other before the door is slammed in his face and Ben’s attention turns to you.

And you can feel his hunger all the time. You’d planned on making some sort of joke about how for a man on his age, Ben’s sex drive only seems to be building, but it’s hard to remember the details of it now. Because Ben’s on you in half a second, sweeping you up into his arms with a smirk, and you’re gone. 

It’s more consuming than a tidal wave, the sheer fucking starvation in Ben’s body. For you. It’s all aimed into your body, and it’s lined with love—it always is—but it’s still fucking hunger.

“You’ve got something for me,” he drawls, already walking you up the stairs. “Don’t you, Sunshine.”

“Maybe.” You mumble, letting your fingers glide up to play with the hair of his beard. “It is your birthday. And you did get very dramatic about your surprise.”

Ben just grunts, and the sore, prickling feeling grows hot over your skin. It’s part of why you weren’t that mad about him about the fight. You could feel how it was going to hurt him more than you, feel how it had been tight in his lungs and known that he wouldn’t do it again.

Ben, the huge, handsome dumbass, has one of the lowest emotional pain tolerances you’ve ever seen. You’ve felt how he holds you tighter during sad parts of movies, as if he’s worried the tragedy on the screen is going to jump out and take you as well.  

So there was no doubt in your mind, that Ben would shoot himself before he repeated that fight. And you had been a little dramatic about it as well, but it was Ryan. He hadn’t even really known what was going on, only that you had to tell Ben something, and it was better for everyone if he stayed at Butcher’s after Ben’s birthday dinner. And Ryan would’ve beat himself up for betraying your trust, then Ben would’ve gotten pissed at himself about making Ryan upset, so it was easier to cut out the middleman and just take the bullet yourself.

He’s more than made up for it. There were flowers on your dresser when you got home the next night, he brought you ice cream at work the day after that, and he’s been letting you chose what to watch every single evening since. 

And you hadn’t wanted to keep things from him. You fucking hated hiding anything at all from Ben. There have been so many moments over the past few weeks where you’ve wanted to grab his face between your hands and tell him, but this was a perfect gift. And he wouldn’t be pissed when he found out. Hopefully it would drown and wash away all that hot shame, and you’d really be proven right.

You just had to tell him first.

“I did get you something.” You hum, leaning back to give him a wide, unrestrained smile. “That’s the surprise.”

Ben snorts. “Fucking worked that one out, Sunshine. You going to actually damn tell me, or do I have to fuck it out of you.”

It’s hard to fight down the breathiness of your voice, and you don’t really try to anyway. 

Ben can hear your heartbeat anyway.

“I’ll tell you no matter what.” You press your face in his neck, mumbling against his skin. “But I- Fucking would be nice.”

He laughs, the sound vibrating through your whole body. “You giving me birthday sex, darling? You going to let me do whatever the fuck I want to your perfect fucking pussy? Let me play with it until you’re just whining like a goddamn brat?”

He might be trying to get you to burst into flames.

It’s going to work. 

“I always let you do what you want.” Your protest is weak, and Ben’s hunger only flares.

“Goddamn right you do.” His lips brush over the shell of your ear, and something slams behind you. “You how why, beautiful?”

You shake your head, and Ben’s chuckle is low and dark, moving right between your thighs.

“I think you do know.” He drawls, and suddenly you’re on the bed, Ben towering over you and brushing hair away from your face. 

There’s a softness to his touch that you can feel in his chest. Molten and glowing over his ribs as he watches you, gentle in a way his deep voice isn’t.

But it’s still all Ben. And his thumb brushed over your lip and presses slightly, you can’t do anything but part for him without thought.

A low, rumbling sound leaves Ben’s chest, and the hunger is turning to starvation. As if you’ve been separated for years, rather than barely at all through the whole day. But to be fair, Ben always touches you like he thinks he’s never going to see you again. And you always grind against the sheets like it’s the first time he’s ever even spared you a glance. 

And when Ben presses his thumb into your mouth, you let your tongue flick against it and suck slightly. Going and going until you’re a little dizzy with need, and all you can see if Ben looking down at you with a smirk. 

“There you go.” He mutters, pulling his thumb away with a slight pop. “Good girl. You going to use some smart words, and answer my question?”

You blink at him, still a little lost in the haze of lust. “What question?”

Ben’s grin grows, and before you know what’s happening he’s tossing you back on the mattress and prowling over you, his shirt already tossed into a corner of the room. 

It’s good you didn’t wear your fireproof clothing today.

All it takes is one firm, consuming kiss into the mattress, Ben’s hand trailing up your thighs to rest between your legs, and you’re burning.

“So fucking beautiful.” Ben mutters, watching you grind shameless down onto his palm, your mouth hanging open and hands scratching hopelessly at his chest. “Still need to fucking hear it, darling. Why do I get to play with this pussy,” he slaps your cunt once, and your back arches off the mattress with a small gasp. “As much as I want?”

You just blink at him, words a little far away as the feeling of Ben—big and warm and strong above you—makes you feel high, and he chuckles.

“You need some help, Sunshine?”

You nod a little stupidly, and Ben crashes down, all but eating you alive with his teeth scraping your lips and tongue down your throat before muttering against your mouth.

“Because I take good fucking care of you. Because you’re my wife, and I fucking love you and fuck you so good you only know one word, don’t you.” 

You moan as one finger slides into you, and Ben fucking shining with pride in his chest.

He’s earned it. 

Because when he hums, “What the word, beautiful?” You scream the only thing that’s in your head.

Ben, Ben- Fuck- Ben-

“Good girl.” He grins as his fingers pull out and you whine, only laughing when he pinches and rolls your clit and you let out a weak noise of desperation. 

Ben-

“You know what I want for my birthday,” Ben drawls your name, wrapping his arm slowly around your waist. “More than fucking anything?”

You shake your head, looking up at him with wide eyes, and his grin somehow grows.

“I want you to sit on my fucking face.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“I want,” Ben leans down, holding your gaze, and your fingers shoot up to hold his face on instinct. “For my beautiful fucking wife to sit on my goddamn face.”

“I- Ben-“ You shake your head, even as you start to roll your hips against him once more. “I could suffocate you-“

He snorts. “You can get a better excuse than that fucking bullshit, Sunshine.”

“I- I can’t. But, Ben-“

“Don’t ask if I’m sure.” He grunts, the hunger suddenly wrapped entirely with stone-like, powerful care. “Do you want to-“

“Yes.” You whisper, and the hunger rushes back with almost twice the straight. 

“Good.” He mutters, and before you down what’s happening, Ben’s rolling you over and pulling you upright on his chest, setting into the pillows with a cocky smirk. “Come here.”

“I am here.” You shift slightly, tracing your fingers over the muscles of his chest, and he gives you a slightly tug by your hips.

“I want you here.” He raised his brows, and the fire might have gone out, but there’s a dizzying rush of light already dancing around the room at the sheer desire in Ben’s body and gaze.

He’s going to eat you alive. 

And your knees already feel weak from it. You’re not sure you remember how to move.

“Ben,” you lean forward, letting your nose bump slightly with his. “Do you want your birthday present now, or-“

“This is my birthday present.”

You can’t stop your smile, because there’s almost a pout on his face, and he’s the strongest man in the world, but right now he’s all but grumbling and pout at you, and the idea that you could possibly ever be worried about sitting on his face. 

“Benjamin.”

He grunts, squeezing the skin of your hips as a hand trails up your side, and your smile widens. 

“If this is your present, I guess you don’t want the sex doll I got you.”

“I have my sex doll right fucking here,” he squeezes your waist, nipping at your lower lip. “And she’s goddamn perfect.”

“Gross and sweet. What if I tape my face to this one?” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “Shut the fuck up and come here.”

“What about the surprise? Is this replacing that- Shit-“ You squeak as he starts to drag you up his chest, until you’re almost straddling his neck.

“Hi, Sunshine.” He rubs firm circles on your thighs, and you smile down at him, your finger drifting into his hair as you hold his gaze.

“Hi, Ben. I- Um-“ You swallow, grinding slightly against him as his hunger feeds your own need. 

Handsome and strong and grinning up at you, and you do want to do this, but-

“How does this work?” You ask, and Ben face turns into something feral, his voice somehow dropping deeper.

“Have you never fucking sat on a face before, darling?” Ben’s grip tightens when you nod, and you almost fall over from the sheer power of his hunger. It’s throbbing between your legs and warm in your core, but then Ben kneads at your thighs, and little electronic shocks wrap over your skin until you’re all but putty in his hands. 

He knows it. There’s a blooming, shining pride through his whole chest, and the asshole is smug as he lets your grind down on his body, his voice a loving, teasing hum as he says your name.

“You want me to take care of you? Need me to show you how to ride my fucking face, let me fuck you like you deserve while you just sit here and look beautiful like a good girl?”

You nod, your hand trailing down your stomach to find your clit, and Ben fucking growls as he swats your fingers away.

“I do that.” He grunts, running his hands up to hold your hips, turning his head to kiss on your knee. “Hold on.”

He doesn’t give you time to react to his order before you’re being pulled forward and Ben slams you down onto his face. 

You almost scream at the first movement. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt as he rolls your hips against him. Big hands drag and down up your body, holding you over him, and when he angles his face to bite at your clit, your fingers fly to yank at his hair. 

Ben’s chuckle vibrates against your pussy, and the moan that escapes you is loud and shameless and almost pathetic. You can’t find it in your to care, though. Because then Ben’s tongue starts to plunge in and out of your cunt, and the high whine of Ben that leaves you is desperate and needy and only spurs him on.

You like it, darling? Ben picks up his pace, shifting you above him just enough to let his tongue flick at your clit until you’re in almost a frenzy—pulling at his hair and burning a handprint into the headboard—before returning to your pussy. Taste like fucking heaven, doing so fucking good for me, screaming my name-

You let out a high sound that was maybe supposed to be Ben, and he only laughs again.

Good girl.

You let out another loud moan, Ben somehow doubles his efforts, and you’ve been wrecked before.

But this is bigger.

This is destroyed.

Ben’s beard tickles and rubs your thighs in the best way possible, and his nose keeps bumping on your clit, and you’re lost to any world that isn’t Ben. His tongue fucking and licking and twisting deep into your cunt, one hand reaching up to palm and flick at your breasts, the other squeezing your ass, low grunts and growls rumbling through him whenever your thighs clench around him or you squirm above him.

You let out a loud, lewd moan as Ben’s tongue presses flat against your clit as broad fingers pinch and roll your nipple, and Ben laughs against your cunt.

Think you can cum on my fucking face, Sunshine? He moves back to pushing his tongue in and out of your pussy, and you lose all sense of control. Grinding down shameless and making loud, pleading sounds of his name, arching your back and bracing a hand on Ben’s thigh. 

You can feel his cock, hard and standing at attention, bumping on your forearm as the coil in your gut starts to become almost painful.

And when you grope blindly to grab it, your fingers brush the base of his shaft and Ben groans your name right into your cunt.

You want to touch him. But his grip is like iron above you, keeping you pinned against his face as he pulls you apart, and he’s stronger than you are. 

But you can feel that strength in him. Radiant and atomic and deep in his body, calling for you to borrow just a little bit. 

You try not to use the mimicry. It too powerful, feels a little like an invasion, and you don’t fight anymore, so there’s really no point. 

But when you whine Ben, he only squeezes you by your hips and sucks your clit between his lips.

He’s fucking impossible and everything in the world, and you’re going to go insane if he doesn’t let you touch him.

So you grab that little bit of his strength, let it flow so naturally into your own body, and move before Ben can figure out what’s happening. Pushing away from him with a high whine, twisting around so your clit is brushing perfectly against his beard, and leaning down to take him into your mouth.

Fucking- Christ on a cross. Ben’s grip tightens, his growl open-mouthed against you cunt, and you moan around his dick without shame. You’re fucking- so fucking perfect, Sunshine, fucking- 

You take him until he bumps against the back of your throat, your hands playing with his balls as you squeeze his inner thigh, and the hunger in Ben’s body feels feral.

He’s squeezing your ass and groaning your name as you choke and swallow around him, and every sound he pulls from your throat makes him twitch in your hands, until you’re no sure if you’re dangling over the edge, or he is. 

Fuck you’re perfect, sucking my cock like a good girl, making all those goddamn pretty sounds for me. Ben groans as another one of those sounds leaves you, his dick twitching in the back of your throat. Need you to fucking cum for me, beautiful, soak my fucking face and scream my name-

Ben’s tongue to flick over your clit, working you right up until you’re writhing above him and moaning around him, and he bites you. Right on your clit before pressing a mockingly soft kiss, and you fly over the edge. 

You might be screaming his name. You’re not sure. Ben won’t stop eating your cunt, even as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you right off his cock. You whine, squirming against him, but all it gets you is flat on your back with Ben still buried between your thighs. Your thighs are squeezing him so tight you’re a little worried you’re going to burst his skull, but all you’re getting from him is love and reverence and pleasure. Ben just keeps devouring you as smaller, softer and melting orgasms roll through your body, and you’re weakly tugging at his hair as stars begin to line your vision. 

Ben. You moan as he pushes his tongue back into your cunt, your hips jerking off the mattress. Ben, please, fuck me-

He groans, a finger sneaking up to rub over your pussy lips, teasing your entrance as he moves to lips to sucking your clit. You need me to fill you up, Sunshine? Want to squeeze this fucking cock in your perfect pussy?

You nod, a high whine leaving you as Ben hums against you.

Say please-

Please. You let out a breathless noise, dignity long gone as you writhe below him. Benjamin, please, please fuck me, I need it so bad-

Fucking Christ. He laughs, pressing a sloppy kiss over your spasming pussy, rising back up to grin down at you with an unmistakable devotion. That fucking desperate for me, Sunshine? Begging like a perfect fucking brat for me-

Yes. You force your arms up to wrap around his neck. Yours, Ben, all yours, just- please. You press a kiss to his beard as he pulls you into his lap, your body burning and boneless against him. Need you, Ben. 

His face flashes with a love that’s mirrored in his body, a hand tracing over the line of your cheekbones. You need me?

You nod, and there’s enough strength of Ben’s left in your body for you to grind against him and dig your nails into his shoulders, leaving a rare mark on his body that makes him hiss in your ear.

“Need you to do that more.” He grunts, his cock jumping against your ass. “Fucking- Wish I could mark you. Show everyone who fucks you so damn pretty and dumb,” he pulls you up slightly, groaning your name into your ear as he guides you down onto his cock. “Think everyone will know when my goddamn cum is dripping out of your perfect cunt?”

You moan and clench around him, throwing your head back in a numbing bliss, and Ben grabs the opportunity. His lips latch onto that spot on your neck, and he starts to fuck up into you with a brutal, skip slapping pace. 

And you lose track of how many orgasms you have. You just know it feels good. Like you’re being washed in a glowing light every second, Ben’s cock bumping against that already aching and needy spot inside of you and his low, growled praise in your head or ear only turning you into a whining mess against his body. But big hands are rubbing over your back and keeping you bouncing onto him, and you can’t think anything but Ben. 

You squeeze around him and scratch over his back, and Ben grunts your name between your head. Good girl, Sunshine, taking my cock so fucking well, going to- Fuck, I’m going to fuck your full of me until everyone can goddamn smell it-

You lean forward and nod against Ben’s shoulder, grinding down when he bruises impossible deep inside of you, and the last orgasm might just be Ben’s, rolling through you as he cums with a roar of your name. Slamming home and capturing your mouth in a deep, sloppy kiss, rutting against you until he’s dripping down your thighs and the high is only lingering in your bodies. 

There’s a long while before either of you bother to move. Ben keeps you firmly down on his cock with hands on your waist, muttering low praise and kissing over your collarbone as you sit in his warmth, and drift back down. But eventually, he presses a firm kiss to the top your head before rolling over and pulling out, slapping his cock against your aching pussy once, and pulling you into another deep, long kiss when a moan escapes your throat.

Stay here. His thumb traces over your cheekbone as he pulls away, and you shake your head, grabbing his wrist. “Sunshine-“

“I- I need to give you your present.” You whisper, and the love in Ben’s chest flares like a fucking bomb, even as he frowns.

“Have to clean you up-“

“Ben.” You squeeze him, tugging him pointlessly back down. The strength is gone. You just need him here. “Please.”

He sighs, but nods, and falls right back over you, pinning you between his warmth and the bed.

Your hands shoot into his hair, your face burying in the crook of his neck, and an easy, gentle calm washes over your body as your breath in pine and vanilla and Ben.

You can do this. 

“Are you ready for the surprise?”

Ben grunts, shifting you slightly so your legs tangled together and his arm can snake around your waist, and it’s helping. The feeling of him everywhere, the way he’s already holding you like you’re the most important thing into the world.

The words are almost easy to say.

“I’m pregnant.”

Ben stills completely around you. And you couldn’t feel his love all but roaring through his body, you’d be worried.

But Ben’s a part of you. And every bit of furious, wrathful care and love in him is wrapping around you, like he’s already trying to protect you more. You should maybe be worried about that. How he’s going to be hovering over you the entire time, and going to drive Butcher up the wall by refusing to go on mission because he’s not leaving his pregnant fucking wife, you pussycuck, and Hughie’s going to have to stop tossing you pens in the office, or Ben might cut off his arm. 

You should be worried.

But you’re not.

It’s Ben. And if you tell him to back the fuck up before he’s stuck sleeping on the couch, he’ll listen. He’ll know it’s an empty threat—you’d end up crawling over him on the couch or calling him back up to bed—but he’ll still listen. He’ll grumble and scowl, but listen.

And he’s already such a good fucking dad. This is just going to be a little more—diapers and crying and screaming and tantrums—but Ben doesn’t give up. And if even an eighth of the love in him right now is for the baby, they're going to be the most adored child in the world.

“How-“ Ben coughs, and when you lean back, his jaw is almost slack. “How the fuck-“

You giggle. “I think you’re how, my love. You and your breeding kink-“

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes, his voice still slightly hoarse. “You’re sure. That you’ve done it.”

“Yeah, Ben.” You smile at him, your lips brushing over his. “I took the test a week after we got back from our honeymoon, and it was positive, so I was probably already several weeks along-“

He tenses around you. “That was almost goddamn month ago-“

“I know.” You sigh, propping your chin against his chest. “And I was going to tell you, but then I remembered your birthday was coming up, and I thought it would make a good gift.”

Your words trail off towards the end, Ben stares at you for a long moment, and then shakes his head. “Fucking Christ, Sunshine-“

“I’m sorry-“

“You’re fucking perfect.” Ben rolls fully back over you, his mouth slamming into yours for a bruising kiss, and there is it. 

He’s happy. There’s nothing stronger and more focused than the sheer fucking love and joy in Ben’s body. And soon you’ll have to start working things out and planning, telling people and arranging how a supe-pregnancy will work. Annie and MM already know, but only because they were there when you took the test. You’ll have to tell Ryan, and he’ll probably be expecting something in the morning. The government will be hell to deal with, and if you want to do a real wedding, you’ll either have to do it soon or after the baby arrives.

But those are problems for later. 

Right now it’s all Ben, kissing you deep and holding you against him, so full of love you’d might need to be worried it’s going to split him in half.

“I fucking love you.” He mutters, his hand already gliding to rest on your lower abdomen. “You’re- Christ on a Cross, you’re fucking-“

He seems to be short-circuiting, but it doesn’t stop him from diving back down and muttering more praise against your lips. 

Love you, Sunshine. Going to take good care of you, you perfect fucking menace. Both of you.

Love you too, You mumble between your heads, combing your fingers through his hair once more. Happy birthday, Benjamin.

End Note: Butcher's going to make Ben watch one of those sex ed birthing videos, and he's gonna be on his knees (he feels all the pain she feels. he's gonna need that weed)

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