#or it’s weighed down and greasy there is no in between

[grimark]

i might’ve cut off a little bit more hair than i thought when i trimmed it today or maybe it just Looks shorter than it actually is, because all of a sudden my hair is like “hey guess what i remembered how to form ringlets all on my own. not very good ones admittedly but it’s better than nothing right 🥺” and i’m like yes it is, thank you for doing the bare minimum

[edytae]

Rush³: Bed (smut-mature) ft Kim Taehyung x Reader

(do not interact if you are underage)

pairing: non-idol!Taehyung x (female) reader

summary: just a short porn

rating: 18+

genre/warnings: smut, spit play, dirty talk, oc is whiny and desperate, unprotected sex (always use protection!)

word count: 6.8K

masterlist | part1 rush: concert | part2 rush: club | part3: rush: bed

——–——

You and mostly Taehyung fell tired after the refreshing shower. He teased you that the two of you were getting old. “We would’ve been fucking like rabbits if it was five years ago.” He groaned as he sat on the couch with a backache after cleaning the mess you made on your couch. You chuckled tiredly. 

You were clasping onto your glass with all your strength and casually drinking as Taehyung started munching on some leftover pasta with beer. You were too horny and you wanted him to fuck you again. As Taaehyung seemed too tired and hungry, you opted for drinking. 

“You are an actual goddess for saving these for me.”  He was obnoxiously moaning with a mouth filled with pasta. 

You couldn't help but be drawn to the way he savoured each bite, his enjoyment apparent in the way his eyes fluttered shut briefly with every mouthful. 

You look up Taehyung's side profile. His fluffy hair wasn’t styled, his pretty handsome face moisturised with your expensive stuff, lips moisturized by greasy pasta. You were still yearning for him after he made you ruin his trousers with only a few of his fingers. 

His natural brown hair curled to his forehead to accentuate his strong jawline and captivating features. The weariness of the day lingered in the lines around his eyes, yet his gaze remained as striking and magnetic as ever.

Taehyung's casual attire, comfortable T-shirt and loose-fitting sweatpants, contrasted with the elegance he naturally exuded.  With a beer in hand, his Adam's apple bobbed gently as he took a long, refreshing sip. His eyes met yours, and the shared warmth between you filled the room, creating an atmosphere that was both comforting and intimate. Despite the fatigue that weighed on both of you, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having him by your side. Your house feels like a home when he is in it. He makes the room lit up, he makes you feel alive, and aware of time and place. 

“Whatcha looking at?” He asked.

“Looking at something pretty.” You said, eyeing him up and down. Oh, the soju shot you had while he warmed up the leftovers was definitely kicking in. He fluffed the hair at his nape like a princess and blew you a kiss. Even though he could return for some mindless TV, you had soju-brain so you continued to eat him up with your eyes.

Taehyung's presence was magnetic, drawing your gaze as if he were the centre of your universe. Every aspect of his appearance seemed meticulously crafted by an artist's hand, his every feature melding together to form a breathtaking portrait of masculine allure.

As he leaned back on his couch, his form exuded a relaxed confidence, an easy grace that spoke of a man comfortable in his own skin. The way he moved, the way he spoke, he had the hallmarks of a natural charisma, drawing you in with an almost gravitational force. Each detail, from the way he sipped his drink to the way he absentmindedly chewed, only served to deepen your fascination.

You took your third shot of the night. The crispy alcohol burnt through your throat as Taehyung looked at you questioningly. His face squeezed into a worried look. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” You blurred, your core gaping because of his fingers; but he didn’t need to know that. 

Taehyung grinned, “Yeah? You still have orgasms left in you, baby?” He asked you in pity. You licked your lips and stared at him. 

When he swallowed his last bite along with the last sip of his beer, you literally jumped on him. You couldn’t wait anymore “Y/N!” He squeaked.

“Tae… Kiss me…” You whined when you straddled his thighs and started kissing every bit of skin you could reach, Taehyung knew the second round had just begun.

“Baby!” He scolded you as you kissed around his face. “You gotta stop kiss-attacking me…” He whined but sounded so pleased. 

“Why not?” You stopped kissing him immediately with a fake pout. “You don’t like my kisses?” 

An hour ago, your body was jelly on him. He quite literally made you lose your mind as he finger fucked you to another planet. Now, you were back to demand more of his sweet pleasure.

Taehyung loved how you easily got into a playful zone and fucking play with him as if he was your doll. You moulded him to your pleasure. “I- I love them, baby…” He whispered quietly as you took your spot on him. Your weight on his thighs was spectacular. Your freshly washed hair was still slightly damped, making Taehyung shiver at the gentle cold feeling. 

The shower was sweet and tender. He helped you wash your hair and was surprised by the amount of hair that fell out. Then, he let you wash his hair too. You played with his hair and gave him a mohawk with your shampoo. You washed his body with your new body wash– the ocean breeze scent was going to be a new hit in Taehyung’s shower routine. Your hand timidly wrapped around his length, “I squirted a gallon, and you haven’t cum yet.” 

Taehyung, instead, interlaced your fingers with his and made out with you. “It’s fine, baby… Let’s enjoy our shower.” 

After the shower, while you put on your skincare, he stood right behind you–with your hideous robe around his waist. He looked delicious. Wet Taehyung was fucking sexy than everything. While the robe threatened to fall down, he leisurely decided to shave. Unfortunately, you have run out of razors for him so he opted for using your Gillette Venus. 

“Is this new?” He pointed at the razor head. He never had this good-looking razor. The purple colour was pretty too.

“I use it before going to laser removal. I used it a couple of times.” You watched him shrug and put on shaving cream. 

You warned him with a squeal, “Taehyung, you know I shaved down there with that.” 

Taehyung looked at you blankly. “You know, down here…” You pointed with your hand but he remained confused. 

“I am sure I have an unused one. Let me–” 

Taehyung’s reaction was priceless. “Y/N. I would smear myself with your cunt any second of the day and have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. So, I don’t mind if this little razor touched your little mound. Got it?”

You looked at him through the mirror and nodded. He hummed lowly and started shaving. You liked his little stubble beard. It made him look more mature and in your opinion, yummy. However, your little mound– as he called it– got irritated whenever he ate you out. His choice was clear between eating you out as hard as he wanted or his bad excuse of a beard. 

You were eager to put on skincare on him after he shaved, but both of you were very tired. You pouted as you slathered yourself in body lotion, “I need you to be my little spa girl, but I am sooo tired, TaeTae…”  

Taehyung laughed at you as you messily rubbed lotion on your legs. He followed you to your room with a pink floral towel around his waist. He enjoyed being in your company, soaking your slightly horny domestic side.

“Taehyung…” Taehyung flinched out from his daydreaming as you groaned over his crotch. Your hips were rocking against him like a teenager. When he looked at your face, he could only focus on your lustful eyes. 

“Yes, baby?” He answered back. He let himself get lured into you. 

“I need you again.” You whispered. 

“You need me to do what, baby?” He threaded your hair fringe behind your ear.

“I need your dick… Taehyung, please…” You tried to chase his dick but he wasn’t supporting an erection. His raging dick had just come down.

“Taehyung please…” You cried on his lap. 

Taehyung chuckled with a pitying tone. “You are such a needy girl, baby. I can’t–” His teasing abruptly stopped when you cried. “Y/N?” He yelled. “Why are you crying, baby? What’s wrong?” His worried tone made you feel guilty. 

“I–hh- am s-stil so w–et f-for you, Taehyung.” You wouldn’t believe you were shedding tears because of how horny you were. 

Taehyung’s face softened, “Y/N… I– You are one crazy girl, you know that right?” He wiped the tears off of your cheeks and pecked them gently. 

“You make me crazy…” You wheezed out as he shook his head. 

“Unbelievable, Y/N.” He was amazed at your unwavering neediness. 

“You can’t let me be dickless...” You kissed down his throat, pushing and pulling him all the places as you writhed on his spreaded thighs. 

“Be dickless?” He chuckled. He melted into the couch as he let you take reign.

You shrugged. You didn’t want him to speak, you needed his pretty lips on you. “You never fuck me.” You cried but no tears came out. You were the epitome of his pampered princess.

“I never fuck you? How many times did we hang out this week?” He interrogated.

“Not enough.” You didn’t like how he was still talking, but it was intentional. He would do anything to just stretch your patience thin.

“Three days a week right?” He did the math for you.

“I need seven.” You shrugged and pushed his head back to kiss on his neck. 

“Seven days a week?” Taehyung chuckled as he let you be his little vampire. 

“24/7. All day.” Kissing him wasn’t enough. You had enough of kissing his delicious skin for minutes and you were still starving. 

You bit his soft cheeks and jaw, making him hiss playfully. “Are you hungry, baby? I would’ve shared my leftovers with you if you asked.” Taehyung pointed at the empty plate on the coffee table. 

“Tae… I wanna fuck you so hard…” You spurred while pulling his useless pants away. Taehyung promised himself to never be clothed around you. It seemed they made your job only more difficult.

“You can’t.” Taehyung ripped your hands away as your eyes widened with worry. You pulled yourself back to his knees, giving him space.

“I can’t?” You asked with worry.

Taehyung grinned, “I just cleaned the couch. We need to go to the bed if you want to fuck me.” He pointed to the huge wet patch on the couch.

You rolled your eyes. “You are so mean, Taehyung.” You lunged forward to hug him. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t want this, huh?” Taehyung teased.

You shrugged, “You have every right to…” 

Taehyung caressed your back softly as you kissed his pretty shoulders.

“Let’s go to bed so you can fuck me, okay?” He offered.

Your eyes found him, “I will fuck your brains out, Kim Taehyung.” You held his face with your one hand and pursed his lips like a fish.

“G-gewd.” He sputtered out. His drool smeared into your hand.

You wrapped your legs around Taehyung’s waist as he got ready to stand up. “Be careful grandpa.” 

Taehyung rolled his eyes, yes he was getting old but he wasn’t that old yet. Just to prove to you how strong he was, he got up, tossed you up slightly with his hold on your ass. He gave them a nice squeeze, which earned him a squeal.

Taehyung thought he was in for a treat, but as soon as his back hit the bed, you started whining for dick. Again. 

“You are LITERALLY the hottest man I have ever seen.” You clawed at his biceps.

“Yeah, butter me up.” Taehyung smirked. You could do some foreplay, but there was no point when he made you squirt every drop of essence. 

“No! I am not buttering you up. I am just telling my scientific observation.” When you pulled his shirt up, your mouth watered just like the first time. He was exciting every single time.

Taehyung rested against your pillows as you pulled his sweatpants off too. He chuckled when your eyes went hazy as your core hit his hardness. He was your sweet drug and you were his. “A-and what I say is the l-law…”

“Is that so?” He grabbed your chin so he wouldn’t lose a second of your pleasure. You let him hold your head as you hummed. “Who made you the president?” Taehyung asked.

Your hands piteously grabbed his chest. Your grinds were enough to calm you down. His hardness glided between your folds as you dropped your head back to feel every bit of skin.

“You messy girl. Look what have you done?” Tae scolded you as your cream smeared all over his shaft and made him leak out precum onto his stomach. 

When you looked where you met him, you saw your lips gliding against his length smoothly. Your excuse of thin panties was useless as Taehyung pulled them to the side. A cute flinch hit you every time Taehyung’s head hit your clit. Your mind was too busy to answer him as Taehyung noticed. You were long gone. 

“Tae…” You murmured, now you were gripping his bicep and his other free hand as he supported your moves. 

“Yeah, baby?” He quietly asked. 

“Top me.” You looked at him with begging eyes, almost forcing tears to your eyes once again.

Taehyung closed his eyes as he dropped his face to the side. His face was adorned with a bashy smile. You kissed the side of his throat, “Please, baby. I really, really need you. You fuck better than I do. You know I have weak thighs.” 

Taehyung’s smile only grew bigger, “I fucking knew it.” He said in a pleased tone. 

You realised how close you were to crying when your runny nose made an appearance. “W-what did you know?” 

Taehyung wrapped his arms around you and in one swift motion, he rolled you under him. “That you would be a fucking pillow princess. Again.” 

You gasped, “I– You said everything I want!” Your voice wavered. 

Taehyung kissed your forehead, “Yes, my princess.” He took his place between your thighs. His view was somewhat obstructed by your panties. His knees dug inside the mattress as his torso hovered over you. 

Your hips bucked up to him at the sweet pet name. You held his pretty waist and tried desperately to hump him. 

Taehyung was adorned by your eagerness. He was also very much accustomed to your cute antics. He needed to fuck your brains out, or else he would have you begging him all weekend. No need to lie, he loved both of the options.

“You need to be fucked, princess?” He rubbed his nose down your neck. His warm breath was tickling all of your senses. 

“Yes! If you don’t, I think I’ll explode.” Your desperation further amused Taehyung. His wet tongue swiped against your chest, just above your breasts. 

“We’ll see if you explode, then…” Taehyung murmured against your skin. His spit-covered lips kissed the whole of your neck before aiming for your breasts. His hands easily grabbed one with a firm touch. 

“Tae…” You called his name as Taehyung suckled your nipples. The image was so intoxicating, you couldn't help but moan, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. Taehyung's eyes flicked up to meet yours, a smirk playing on his lips as he lavished attention on your breasts, his tongue swirling around your sensitive nipples.

His other hand traced a path down your body, caressing your sides, your hips, before finally dipping between your thighs. 

And you had the audacity to whine. 

“I just fucked the shit out of you and you still shiever when I touch this little mound.” Taehyung groaned. His hand cupped your core harshly.

“I can’t help it.” You hiccuped when he circled your clit. The cotton of your panties burnt your skin.

Taehyung mimicked your pout. He was so adorable and hot and sexy and attractive…

Your train of thought was interrupted when his fingers deftly slid under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them aside. You shivered as the cool air brushed against your exposed skin, your body arching instinctively toward him.

Taehyung's eyes, dark and filled with a mix of lust and affection, met your core. When he fingered you earlier this night, he couldn’t see your delicious cunt, so he needed to take his well-earned dessert. 

He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. Your arms immediately wrapped around his head, locking him into the kiss. Taehyung gladly kissed you back, and let you play with his tongue. 

When he realised you were out of breath, he let you pull his hair, but a string of spit connected your lips. 

"Out of br–" Before Taehyung could finish asking, you whined.

"Spit into my mouth, Tae..."

His eyes darkened with desire at your request. He growled a dirty curse before his teeth caught your bottom lip. “Pwease…” you whined under him, your plea dripping with desperation.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. “Beg me.” His lower body pressed into yours, his hand grabbing your breast with a firm squeeze. His voice was commanding, filled with authority as he leaned closer.

Your voice caught in your throat, your breath hitching from the intensity of the moment. “P-please…” you stammered, your need palpable.

“Not good enough,” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly. “I want to hear you beg, baby. Show me how much you want it.”

You took a deep breath, your entire body trembling with need. “Please, Taehyung, please spit into my mouth. I need it. I need you,” you begged, your voice finally finding the right note of desperation.

A satisfied smirk played on his lips. “Good girl,” he praised. “I love it when you’re so needy for me.”

He moved closer, his hand moving to your jaw, holding it firmly as he hovered over your lips. The anticipation was almost too much to bear as you watched him, your eyes wide and pleading.

“Open wide,” he commanded, his voice low and gravelly. You obeyed instantly, your mouth opening as you looked up at him with a mixture of need and submission.

“Such a dirty girl,” he murmured, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. “And all mine.” He let a string of spit fall from his mouth into yours, the act raw and primal. You moaned, closing your eyes as you savoured the sensation, your body responding to the dominance he exuded.

“Does my baby like that?” he asked, his tone both teasing and possessive. “Do you like it when I take control?”

“Yes, Tae,” you breathed, your voice trembling. “I love it. I love you.”

“Good,” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. “Because I’m not done with you yet. I’m going to make you beg for me again and again.”

You shivered at his words, your body aching for more of his touch, more of his dominance. “Please, Taehyung, don’t stop,” you pleaded, your hands gripping his shoulders.

“I won’t, baby,” he promised, his voice a low rumble. “I’m going to give you everything you want. Just keep begging for me.”

“Yes, Taehyung, please,” you whimpered, your need for him growing with every passing second. “I need you. I need you so much.”

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. 

“Please, Taehyung, please,” you repeated, your voice a desperate plea.

With a smirk, Taehyung leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. The intensity of the moment consumed you, and you knew that with Taehyung, you would always be begging for more.

Taehyung got a hold of his dick and pointed his head right below your clit. Your warm skin and the sacred skin contact made his insides liquid. 

Your back bucked with a pathetic moan.

Taehyung’s large palm firmly hit against your tit. “ Stop crying. I’ll feed you dick now. 

His words sent a thrill through you as his hand soothed the skin of your chest. His free hand was wrapped around his cock deliciously. He stood tall and hard between your legs and only caused your mouth to water.

His words sent a thrill through you as his hand soothed the stinging skin of your chest. His free hand was wrapped around his cock deliciously. He stood tall and hard between your legs, causing your mouth to water with anticipation. The way he handled himself, every move deliberate and commanding, only heightened your desire.

He smirked, watching your reaction, and slowly dragged his length along your folds, teasing you. “You want it that bad, don’t you?” he taunted, his voice a low, seductive growl.

“Yes, please, Taehyung,” you whimpered, your hips lifting towards him, desperate for more.

“Pathetic,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he continued to tease you, rubbing his tip against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “So needy and desperate. Look at you, so ready to be filled.”

You could feel yourself getting wetter, the anticipation almost unbearable. “Please, Taehyung, I need it,” you begged, your voice trembling with want.

With a smug grin, Taehyung finally gave in, sliding himself into you with one smooth motion, filling you completely. You gasped, clutching at his arms, nails digging into his skin as he set a steady, relentless pace.

“Look at you, taking me so well,” he praised, his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of lust and admiration. “Such a good girl.”

His words made you shiver, adding to the intense pleasure building inside you. “More, Taehyung, please,” you pleaded, your body moving with his, matching his rhythm.

“Greedy little thing,” he growled, increasing his pace, driving deeper with each thrust. “You can’t get enough, can you? Always wanting more.”

You could only moan in response, your mind lost in the overwhelming sensations. His harsh grip on your hips, the way he stretched you, filled you—it was everything you needed and more.

You sputtered. Taehyung was unclear about what you were saying. 

“I can’t hear you, baby.” His voice was rough as he continued to pound you even harder. “Got a huge dick in your tummy?” He laughed as you grabbed his forearms. 

Taking a deep breath, you summoned your courage. "C-choke me..." you stammered. His thrusts slowed down as he processed your words. You repeated yourself, more firmly this time, "I want your hand around my neck. Please... Give me your hand."

A dark, lustful look crossed Taehyung's face. His grip on your hips tightened as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You want me to choke you, baby?" he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you can handle that?"

“Yes, please,” you whispered, your eyes pleading.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “Desperate little slut,” he murmured, his hand slowly travelling up to your neck. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t apply any pressure—just let his hand rest there, a promise of control.

You gasped, the anticipation almost too much to bear. Your core frantically squeezed around him. 

Taehyung chuckled darkly. “You love being my doll, don’t you?” He put pressure on your neck for only a moment. Your core was flooded with juice as your breath was hindered for only a second.

“Yeah… I’m your–s-s.” You forced out. Your legs were sore, your core was begging to find release. 

“Good girl,” he praised, his hand back to being loose. When he noticed your frustration, he changed the tempo. Rather than going shallow but fast, he pushed himself further in with a slow tempo. 

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear.  “You’re mine, understand? Only mine.”

You sniffed, pleasure started to become too much. “Yeah… Taehyung…” You weakly moaned his name. If he didn’t stop, you could cum, very soon.

Sensing your impending climax, Taehyung’s eyes gleamed with a mix of possessiveness and delight. “So close, baby? You gonna cum for me?” he whispered, his voice dripping with dark allure.

“Yes… so close,” you whimpered, your body arching into his, craving every inch of contact. You held on to his arm on your neck for emotional support.

“Not yet,” he growled softly, his hand on your neck tightening slightly as his thrusts slowed down even more. “I want to feel you completely, every part of you.”

Then, to your utter frustration, Taehyung stopped moving, staying buried deep inside you. The sudden stillness sent a shiver through your entire body. Only your fast heartbeat and his deep breaths filled your ears. 

He was still in you, planted as far as he could go. "Taehyung, please," you begged, your voice a desperate whisper.

He tsked, “You can’t even wait a second, can you?” 

Your hips bucked against him involuntarily,  and you whimpered, tears of frustration gathering in your eyes.

“Aww… Babygirl doesn’t like being teased.” 

Your body responded immediately, your muscles tightening around him, your moans growing louder. "Oh god, Taehyung... yes!" you cried out, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

“I’ll– I will cum now… Please, TaeTae…” You screamed. With a deep long chuckle from the hot man above you, you reached the peak of your orgasm.

Your climax hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you in a wave of pure ecstasy. Your body convulsed, your moans turning into a high-pitched cry as you clung to him, your nails digging into his back.

He continued to pound into you, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. "There you go… Such a good girl to cum for me, baby. No, no, don’t stop. I want to feel you cum all over my cock properly." He demanded, his voice thick with desire.

Taehyung groaned, the sight and feel of your climax pushing him over the edge. He buried himself deep inside you, his own release washing over him, mingling with yours in a blissful symphony of pleasure.

As you both came down from the high, he loosened his grip on your neck, his hand moving to gently caress your cheek. “You did so well, baby,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “So perfect.”

He tsked, “You can’t even wait a second, can you?”

Your hips bucked against him involuntarily, and you whimpered, tears of frustration gathering in your eyes.

“Aww… Babygirl doesn’t like being teased,” he mocked, a cruel smirk curling on his lips. “Pathetic little thing, so desperate for my cock.”

You squirmed beneath him, trying to create any friction to ease the intense need burning inside you. “Please, Taehyung,” you begged, your voice cracking. “I need you.”

His grip on your neck tightened, making you gasp. “You think you can make demands?” he sneered. “You’ll take what I give you and be grateful.”

“Please,” you whimpered, your hands clutching at his arms. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“You’re going to have to,” he growled, his hips still not moving. 

When your bottom lip pursed, his hunger awakened. He leaned down closer to you, leaving your neck free. 

“Oh, babygirl…” He whimpered against your chin and took a bite of your bottom lip. It was soft between his teeth. With a slight pressure, he could taste your skin. Instead, he licked on them. Your mouth immediately fell open for the intrusion as Taehyung pushed his tongue in. 

While you played a tug war with his tongue, your sporadic clenches on him continued. Despite not being actively fucked, you were getting tighter and tighter around him. 

His eyes gleamed with satisfaction at your desperation. "Naughty girl," he sneered when your hands travelled down his back to push his hips deeper.

He retracted his wet appendage from your mouth. Still hovering over you, he murmured, “What are we going to do to these grabby hands?” He asked with mock worry.

Without letting you speak up–not that you had any capacity, Taehyung made a decision. 

A decision that grew you wetter. 

He grabbed both of your wrists and crossed them over your head. A position that you loved and got you to orgasm promptly.

“Is it too much, babygirl?” He asked as his hand covered your wrists. 

You shook your head no, “It’s perfect.” 

“Hmm?” Taehyung set a gentle pace as a start. He eased you back into pleasure. With him being slightly leaned towards you, he could go in deeper.

“Tae…” Your body rolled every time he brushed against your sweet spot. Beautiful shivers washed over your body shook beneath him. 

“Yeah, baby? You like it?” Taehyung focused on how your lips curled into an “o” shape. “Is this a good spot?” He gave a stronger stroke.

“T-the best!” You squealed. 

“It’s gonna make you cum, baby?” Your eyes opened big when Taehyung asked you. You looked at him confused as if you had forgotten about your orgasm. 

“Mhmm, baby?” Taehyung further egged as his hips steadily worked.

You couldn’t answer either of his questions but a cute moan was all the answer Taehyung needed. 

“Yeah, baby? You like it?” Taehyung focused on how your lips curled into an “o” shape. “Is this a good spot?” He gave a stronger stroke.

“T-the best!” you squealed, your voice trembling with pleasure.

“Yeah? So why don’t you cum on my dick to show?”

Without further hesitation, he thrust into you a bit faster, filling you completely in one go and pulling out just to overstimulate that heavenly spot.

The sensation was overwhelming, slightly painful as your body arched off the bed despite his body on you. 

“Baby…” You sighed as your hands tugged on his. The pleasure was immaculate. 

Taehyung waited a few seconds, “Let me see it.” 

You opened your eyes to see Taehyung perfectly standing between your legs, completely inside of you. “I’ll–” You said as your core squeezed him.

“It’s gonna make you cum, baby?” Taehyung asked, his eyes locked onto yours. Your eyes opened wide in surprise, momentarily forgetting about your impending orgasm.

“Mhmm, baby?” Taehyung egged on further, his hips steadily working, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you.

You couldn’t answer either of his questions, but a cute moan was all the answer Taehyung needed. He smirked, watching the way your body responded to him, the way you squirmed and gasped beneath him.

“Cum for me, princess,” he murmured, his voice a seductive growl. “I want to see you fall apart.”

His words were the final push you needed. Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as the orgasm ripped through you. Your vision blurred, and you cried out, your back arching off the bed as you came hard around him.

Taehyung watched you intently, his gaze filled with a mix of awe and satisfaction. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his own voice thick with pleasure. “You look so beautiful when you cum.”

Your body trembled, the aftershocks of your orgasm making you shiver. Taehyung continued to thrust gently, riding out your release, his eyes never leaving your face.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his hands caressing your sides soothingly. 

“I love you so much, Taehyung,” you whispered, your voice filled with genuine affection as he held you close. Your sweat was cooling off, heart beating so frantically against your ribs.

Taehyung paused for a moment, his eyes widening slightly in surprise at your heartfelt confession. 

“So so much…” You added. 

“Is it post-nut talking?” Taehyung asked playfully, his voice laced with amusement and a hint of disbelief.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at his unexpected response. “No, I want more…” You cried. Both for your own orgasm and for his too. 

“Fucking brat.” Taehyung cursed in disbelief. You knew how to push his buttons. He murmured against your skin. “I can’t wait to make you mine again and again so I can make your cry out those words.”

His threat sounded heaven to your ears. “Please, Taehyung….”

Taehyung’s hips found their pace back. It was moderately fast, but the lewd squelching noises were now almost too loud. “Dirty girl.” Taehyung commented a few times after a particularly loud one. 

“Please faster.” You asked when you felt comfortable. And Taehyung immediately obliged as if he was just waiting for you to ask. 

Taehyung immediately obliged, increasing the tempo of his thrusts with a primal need that matched your own urgency.

The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building higher and higher until you could hardly think straight. Taehyung’s hands roamed over your skin, his touch igniting flames of desire everywhere he caressed.

“Ugh, ugh, Taehyung…” You moaned his name out. Your hands squeezed his shoulders. “I-I changed my mind. Slow! Slow!” 

Taehyung laughed through his nose as he followed your request once again. “Ah, You are such a pampered princess! Did it hurt, baby?”

He cooed your hips as you mumbled. “Only a bit…But it feels good when… when you are deep.” 

“Do you enjoy it when I am this deep?” He repeated as he scooted towards you more, plunging his dick deeper than before. You sighed when he filled you to the brim. Even taking a breath was enough for you to have him bump into your sensitive spots.

“Can you feel it?” You held Taehyung’s wrist and placed his hand on your stomach. When Taehyung slightly moved following your touch, his cock again hit your cervix again. 

“Fuck!” You couldn’t help yourself. 

“What’s wrong baby?” Taehyung innocently asked as he moved his hips again.

You answered Taehyung with only your moans. His head continued to give sweet kisses to your cervix and electrify your entire body. 

Your orgasm was back already with all of its glory. 

“You like it when I hit your cervix, baby?” Taehyung whispered, his hands simultaneously pressing your tummy.

Before you could answer, he snapped his hips a bit more forcefully to knock out any words that could come out. 

“Of course you do… You love anything I do to you, right?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded, “I– I love y-you…” You repeated. The fact needed to get inside of his pretty head.

Your words seemed to fuel Taehyung as he planted his hands on the side of your head and started snapping his hips at a fast pace. Now, you knew you had no choice but cum. 

Pleasure was hot and messy. You felt impossibly wet. “I’ll cum! I will–” 

It was pointless to warn him. 

“Y/N, you are gonna open your eyes and cum like my little slut.” Taehyung ordered. His voice was thick with desire, his words sending a thrill through you. 

You opened your eyes to find Taehyung completely spent, his features illuminated by a deep desire to rock your world. His eyes, dark and intense, were fixed on you with a mixture of tenderness and desire. His jawline, sharp and defined, was accentuated by the way he clenched his teeth. Sweat glistened on his forehead, dampening his tousled hair that fell in waves over his forehead.

Taehyung's chest rose and fell rapidly. The veins on his neck and biceps down to his hands were showing. His muscles were strained and on a mission to get you high. His skin was flushed with exertion, a rosy hue spreading across his cheeks and down his neck. 

When your eyes found his, you felt a river form in between your legs. It was impossible to get any wetter and Taehyung still managed to drive you insane. “S-so hot…” You slurred.

To answer you, he thrust harder, deeper, his movements becoming more forceful. Pleasure surged through you as Taehyung drove you towards another peak of ecstasy, his touch pushing you beyond the limits of rational thought.

“C-cum w-ith me-e.” You screeched.

Your orgasm hit you like a brick wall. It shook your entire body and soul in pure ecstasy. Your mind went through hundreds of emotions as your moans continued to entertain Taehyung. 

As you swam through the mind-blowing high, Taehyung stayed inside you. Your senses were heightened, every touch, every sound, every sensation magnified. Watching you cum made Taehyung realise how his own high was palpable. He could cum if he didn’t pull it out. But if he did pull himself out, he would ruin your orgasm. 

The decision was easy. 

“Ugh, baby…” Taehyung lunged over you. Your body melted into the bed but you welcomed him with a hug. 

A messy kiss stained Taehyung’s cheek as he whispered. “Do you want me to cum inside?” 

You screamed. “Fuck yes!” 

With your approval, it took him only three thrusts to empty himself inside you. The long, throaty growl he let out was a feast to your ears as he painted your inside. 

“Taehyung…” Your nails dug into his skin painfully as you pressed him impossibly closer to you. 

With a deep breath, Taehyung rolled off of you. He was scared to crush you under his weight. But when his back hit your bed, he felt you lay on him, your tit pressed into his pec. Taehyung sighed, pleased. “I love you, Taehyung.” You whispered into his ear. 

"I love you even more." he murmured, his voice a tender caress. 

You sighed as you tangled yourself into his embrace. He kissed your forehead and asked your half-asleep figure. “Did you have enough, baby?” 

You pressed a kiss to his collarbone, “Only for tonight. You should rest for the morning.”

Taehyung scoffed, “You should prepare yourself to ride my face.” 

“Hmm, sure sure. Sleep now.” You kissed his collarbone again and nuzzled your face to his naked skin.

“Your breast is touching my ribs.” He said giggly. 

“Yeah? Your cum is dripping out of me.” 

“Do you want me to clean you?” He worriedly asked.

“If you move Taehyung… If you move, I will tape myself to you for the rest of your life and you will have to pee in front of me forever.” You squeezed yourself in as he brushed your hair out of his face.

“Well, you are the freak that can’t pee in front of me. So, I am fine.” Taehyung shrugged. 

“I am the freak because I don’t want you to see me pee? How does it make sense?” You weren’t as comfortable as he was at talking about poops, burps and pees with him. Despite knowing him for years and seeing each other in every compromised position, you needed Taehyung to think you didn’t do any of the things. 

Taehyung was quite the opposite. 

“Yeah, you begged me to spit inside your mouth so you're a freak.” He shrugged his shoulders which made your head move on his pecs. 

You held his face again, puckered his lips and licked them. “I am your very sleepy freak then. Goodnight, darling.” 

Taehyung was going to argue more but you calling him darling caught him off guard. With a satisfied snicker, he lay under you, his arms wrapping around you possessively. You could feel the contentment radiating from him as he settled into the bed, pulling you close so your bodies were pressed together.

“Goodnight, darling.” He repeated with a kiss on your head. He felt your body go stiff only momentarily before nuzzling yourself to him like a kitten. 

The night's sleep was good. Taehyung had you cuddling with him as long as you wanted. 

After, maybe thirty minutes later, Taehyung felt you get up. He heard the soft patter of your feet on the floor as you made your way to the bathroom, the faint sound of the toilet lid closing, and then the gentle rush of water as you cleaned yourself. But soon, you joined him back in the same exact position. Taehyung felt your faint kisses on his cheeks and fell back to sleep. Close to sunrise, he felt you slip off him because it was getting warmer, but you continued to hold his hand and peck his long fingers as he drifted on and off to sleep.

The slight booze and huge amount of physical exertion knocked two of you good as the deep, restful slumber awaited.

————

masterlist | part1 rush: concert | part2 rush: club | part3: rush:bed recommendation: i’m mad & you’re mine |

[drowning-rat73]

To everyone who voted that i should post the quotes, here you go :)

Perfection is reached, not when there is no longer anything to add, but when there is no longer anything to take away.

Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.

A moment on the lips, forever on the hips.

Thinner is the winner.

You can never be too rich or too thin.

Hunger hurts but starving works.

The flat stomach is nice, but a concave one is perfect..

You will be tempted quite frequently. You will have to choose whether to enjoy yourself wholly for those 20 minutes or so that you will be consuming excess calories, or whether you will despise yourself cordially for the next three days.

Eat to live, but don’t live to eat..

Quod me nutrit, me destruit (What nourishes me, also destroys me.)

It’s simple: You decide once and for all that you aren’t going to eat, and there are no further decisions to make.

It’s not deprivation, it’s liberation.

Being normal is over rated.

Food is like art, to be looked at not eaten.

Every time you say no thank you to food, you say yes please to thin.

You have a choice to make, do you want to be “Normal” and overweight like the rest of the world, Or do you want to be unique and be that girl every overweight person wants to be? It’s all up to you.

I do eat normally: only what is needed for survival. I can’t help it that we live in a piggish society where gluttony is the norm, and everyone else is constantly stuffing themselves.

Think higher of yourself, your too good to put that in your body.

Anorexia is not a self-inflicted disease, it’s a self-controlled lifestyle.

When I wake, I’m empty, light-headed. I like to stay this way, free and pure, light on my feet, traveling light. For me, food’s only interest lies in how little I need, how strong I am, how well I can resist, each time achieving another small victory of the will.

The difference between want and need is self control.

I’ve come too far to take orders from a cookie.

They always say they’re concerned with me, about my health, when all they want to do is control me.

They want to pin me down and force-feed me with lies, with what they call love.

The greasy fry, it cannot lie, its truth is written on your thigh.

They say I could die if I get too thin and I tell them I could die getting too fat also. The difference is dieing thin is a challenge and I am not one to give up one a challenge.

I want my collarbones and hips to be as sharp as my mind.

You can learn to love anything I think, if you need to badly enough. I trained myself to enjoy feeling hungry. If my stomach contracts, or I wake up feeling nauseated, or I’m light-headed, or have a hunger headache or better yet, all of the above, it means I’m getting thinner, if feels good. I feel strong, on top of myself, in control.

Denying yourself food is not true deprivation – never being thin is.

There is no try, there is only DO.

I have a rule when I weigh myself. If I’ve gained then I starve the rest of the day. But if I’ve lost, then I starve too.

Re-measure, reweigh, try harder.

Your body is the baggage you must carry through life. The more excess baggage the shorter the trip.

You have such a pretty face, why don’t you try dieting?

Pain is temporary; Pride is forever.

An imperfect body reflects an imperfect person.

Don’t give up what you want most for what you want at the moment.

I’m a teenage drama queen, I’ll throw my guts up for self esteem.

Empty is pure, starving is the cure.

Be like a postage stamp. Stick to one thing until you get there.

Feed the soul; let the body fast.

If you close your mouth to food, you can know a sweeter taste.

The less I swallowed, the more I declined, the more I hope to pare things down to the essentials.

The more they give me, the less I’ll eat.

Eat less, weigh less.

Thin has a taste all its own.

Happy or sad, rich or poor, it’s better being thin.

I don’t care if it hurts, I want to have control, I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul.

If it tastes good, It’s trying to kill you

The word is control. That’s my ultimate – to have control.

I want to be the smallest I can possibly be…when I see bone, that’s the day I will finally feel free…

Giving in to food shows weakness, be strong and you will be better than everyone else.

I’m not starving myself. I’m perfecting my emptiness.

I, the hunger artist, rarely disappoint my audience.

How many pounds till I am happy? How many pounds till I get thin? Three more pounds till I am skinny, three more pounds and I win!

Anorexia is not a disease. Anorexia is not a game. Anorexia is a skill, perfected only by a few. The chosen, the pure, the flawless.

Anorexia is like a game; you play, you win, and then it’s over. Or you keep playing.

Nothing. Nothing is wrong. And asking is against the rules. Crying is against the rules. Your strong, don’t let them break you. They’re trying to destroy you.

When it comes to losing weight, those who can, do; those that can’t make excuses.

Don’t eat. If you want to see food, look in the mirror at your thighs.

What’s in your fingers today is on your hips tomorrow.

The only freedom left is the freedom to starve.

Blessed are the starving, for they shall teach us not to want.

Don’t eat anything today that you’ll regret tomorrow.

Craving is only a feeling.

Bones define who we really are, let them show

Note- none of these are mine, i found them all on a 2010 pr04n4 blogging site.

[willowser]

you're not expecting the bathroom door to swing open.

sitting in katsuki's overly-large bathtub, soaking into suds and fragrant oils and trying to enjoy what you believed would be another evening alone; one of kirishima's sidekicks is out with an injury and your great explosion murder god has been picking up the slack, pulling double shifts almost every night this week. not something to be upset about, as it's no one's fault, really—but you certainly didn't forsee your bath being interrupted.

this is what your i'm in here! call is met with: the creak of hinges and the smell of smoke, the deep scowl on katsuki's face as he shuffles across the tile, eyes rimmed with that greasy paint he wears under his mask.

very rarely does he intrude on your alone time—not that you're complaining. a faint shy streak travels through you, and you pull your knees closer to your chest as you smile at him. without a word, he stands across from the tub, leaning against the sink counter as he scratches at sweat dripping down his neck.

"hello," you tell him quietly, trying to tide back your excitement for the sake of his exhaustion. "didn't expect to see you here, stranger."

it's only a joke, but katsuki's frown deepens. for a while, his eyes dance anywhere other than you, long enough that you begin to wonder if a nerve has been struck, but you're surprised to find him a little pink as he straightens out his slouchy posture.

"scooch." is all he demands of you, gruffly. before you can manage a retort, his arms go over his head to grab a fist full of his shirt by the back, tugging it up and free from his dirty, worn body.

it's a nice sight, one that keeps you quiet and content: the soft curve of his shoulders and the rippling, bruised plane of his ribcage; the thick muscle of his thighs as he yanks down his pants; the spreading flush to his chest, as he strips himself bare.

you are more than happy to scooch, slipping to one side easily so that he can sit at your back. a rough groan escapes him when he sinks into the steaming water, as he stretches out and rubs at one of his knees, digging his fingers into his skin with a grimace before gently tugging you to lean back against him.

you turn your head just a bit, so that your forehead is against his cheek, nosing at his jaw. again, you give him a quiet, "hello," that elicits another long, deep groan from his chest.

"hi," katsuki murmurs, a little awkwardly into your hair. you tell him he stinks and he grunts out a single laugh, before pinching your sides under the water until you're squirming against him a little too intimately.

when you turn to face him now, the scowl has slipped away, replaced by a soft curve of his lips that looks almost like a smile. his head is leaned back against the edge of the tub, eyes lidded, and he infects you with a yawn that stretches out his whole face.

he's so cute when he's sleepy like this that you can't help it; you wrap an arm around his neck and run a hand through his hair, leaving water to drip free and down from his temples. you place a fat kiss on his cheek, no matter how dirty, and it earns you a pleased hum that makes you want to squeal.

it's been a long week, that's all, and you're just happy he's home.

"are you all mine tonight?" you ask, pulling your lip between your teeth when he raises his head to stare at you. something heavy weighs in his eyes, like his response will answer to more than just your question, this question, right here in the bath and in your arms.

katsuki blinks softly, and digs a hand into your hair, too. "yeah," he murmurs, serious. "all yours."

[kookygranger]

Fairytale of Hawkins: Part Two

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A cheesy hallmark Christmas fic inspired by @bettyfrommars's tow truck!Eddie and prompts #1 & #6 from Betty and @allthingsjoeq's Holiday Prompt Party

Summary: A petting zoo, Secret Santa and mistletoe never being around when you need it.

Warnings: reader doesn't have family, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 5.3k

Author's note: Okay, it's 11:54pm on Christmas Eve where I am and this is far from perfect, but I wanted the people who enjoyed the first part to have this for Christmas so here it is. I hope you're all safe and you get moments of peace and joy these holidays.

Part One

You were handsome You were pretty, Queen of New York City When the band finished playing They howled out for more – Fairytale of New York, The Pogues/Kirsty MacColl

3 Days 'Til Christmas

“So uh, what’s goin’ on with you and Robin’s friend?”

Hawkins town centre is frosted with a light dusting of snow that fell in the early morning hours. Picture perfect, like a Hallmark Christmas card. The hum of festive cheer in the crowds doing last-minute gift shopping and partaking in the charming small-town seasonal activities is mostly drowned out by an argument between Dustin and Lucas, Max and the younger Sinclair sibling rolling their eyes in annoyance. They sit, impatiently waiting for the rest of the party to show up, on the edge of the fountain frozen over with the cold snap that swept through town at the beginning of the week.

Steve’s perched on the back of a bench a few feet away, ignoring the squabble as Eddie toes the ground in front of him.

“First of all, I know you know her name. And B, nothing is going on, she’s a great girl and a really good friend to Robin.” Steve shrugs, “We both told you you’d like her.”

Eddie squints, his leather jacket opening to reveal a dark red sweater as his pocketed hand gestures in question, “Why me specifically?”

Steve shrugs again, “Rob and I both thought you’d hit it off. It just feels…right. Don’t you think?”

“I mean yeah, yeah she’s beautiful. Cute as hell when she gets flustered. But she’s a city girl–used to more than this, right?” He looks around at the small-town square, filled with little kids dressed in matching sweaters and flustered mothers pushing prams with clenched smiles. “She’ll be gone well before the ice on the road thaws.”

“So? What’s wrong with having a little holiday fling?”

Eddie sucks his teeth, “I don’t think I can.”

Steve lets out a low whistle, “You’re that head-over-heels already?”

“No.” Eddie shakes his head, cheeks flushing pink from more than just the bite to the wind, then sighs. “Think if I have a fling I might just get there though. This is Robin’s fault she shouldn’t’ve talked her up so much!” Steve chuckles at his friend’s distress. “Doesn’t help that she looks like a damn angel when the snow’s kissing her eyelashes.”

Steve rubs his face, “Jesus Christ.”

***

You and Robin had vowed to hold off drinking for the rest of the holidays after your night at The Hideout, which was followed by a day spent on the couch, groaning about loud noises as Gremlins beamed across the TV in the darkened living room. When you’d finally managed to peel yourselves away from the nest you’d made out of blankets, large diet sodas and greasy fries from the drive-thru, you decided to cross off making Christmas cookies from Robin’s list of “holiday activities that could make the grinch’s heart grow.” She assured you weren’t the Grinch in this situation but it certainly felt, pointed.

The misshapen sugary treats weigh down your tote bag as you walk arm-in-arm with Robin towards the designated meeting spot.

“I keep making a fool of myself in front of Eddie.”

Robin smirks, “You’re doing fine.”

“I can just be so,” you hold out your hand in a vague gesture and grimace, “sometimes, you know?”

Robin laughs, “Oh, I know.”

“Thanks.”

She squeezes your arm that’s wrapped around hers and shakes her head, “Everybody loves you I promise. And if they don’t yet, they will.” You both round a corner, the fountain and a group of animated college kids coming into view. Steve waves from across the street, Eddie turning his head in your direction then away again quickly when you make eye contact.

“Right.”

***

“C’mon now everyone keep up.” Steve claps his gloved hands together, his cheeks pink and his brows furrowed in faux admonishment as he leads the group towards the petting zoo set up for the weekend in the parking lot of Bradley’s Big Buy supermarket. You can tell by the glisten in his eyes how much it means to him to have all of his found family in one place.

You laugh softly when he claps Dustin on the back and the younger boy tries to shrug off his embrace.

“He’s in his element this time of year.” Eddie falls into stride next to you, the both of you now bringing up the rear of the boisterous group.

You nod, a small smile permanently etched on your face from the company. “I can tell.” You walk the rest of the way in silence, watching the antics of the strange mix of personalities in front of you with a distant bemusement as you tried and failed to come up with something to say. Had you called him sexy at one point the other night or did you dream that?

The stench of hay and something less savoury wafts over you as you all enter the car park under a bright red banner with ‘Petting Zoo’ written in white cursive on it. You’re about to ask Eddie if they did this every year when a middle-aged woman stops you with a brochure held out in front of you.

“Have you found Jesus?” She’s standing by the entrance in a matching woollen navy-blue coat and skirt, heels on her stocking-clad feet and hair quaffed perfectly in a bob accentuated by the pearls on her ears and neck.

You don’t even think about your response before it slips out, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise he was missing.” You can see Eddie smirk out of the corner of your eye. It was just meant to be a light-hearted joke, but the woman clearly didn’t see the humour.

She purses her lips in a thin line and snatches the brochure back out of your reach. “I should’ve known you were one of his type.” You keep walking along, her voice changed back into a sweeter version as she asks the next person the same question behind you.

You turn to Eddie, his eyes downcast and shoulders higher than they were a second ago. “What type are you?”

He rubs the back of his neck underneath the black knitted scarf that matches his beanie. “Uh, devil worshipper according to this town.”

“Oh, I’m actually lapsed. Found all that sacrificing was getting in the way of my day job you know?”

The smile that catches at the corners of his mouth makes your tummy flip.

“I know whattya mean.” He nods, all dramatics with his feigned seriousness, “So much laundry with all those blood-stained clothes.”

“Right? Such a hassle.” You both laugh as you look at each other. “Do they actually think that?”

Eddie shrugs, “It was worse when I was in high school, but I still get the odd bit of holy water thrown in my direction.”

“Why?” You shake your head and frown, serious this time. “Just because you listen to Motorhead?”

“That and I was the leader of the Dungeons and Dragons club in high school. It’s a game for nerds really, but it kinda got swept up into the satanic panic that was going around at the time.”

“That’s so…dumb.”

He huffs a laugh through his nose, watching your feet walk in sync together. “Yeah, I guess it is.” His head snaps back up, “Wait, how do you know Motorhead?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You bump his shoulder and scoff, “Did you just judge a book by her cover Eddie the devil worshipper?” He opens his mouth to speak but his reply is cut off by an animalistic snort that has your head turning in curiosity. You gasp as you spot the furry brown creatures leaning into patting hands over a wooden fence, “They actually do have reindeer here!”

Eddie grins as your face lights up. “Did you think they were lying?”

You shake your head, “I thought they’d just be regular deer. I’ve never seen–“ You grab Eddie’s leather-clad arm in your excitement and he looks down at your touch before you bound off towards Robin who’s laughing at your reaction.

El and Max have to coax you into actually patting one when you get closer, the antlers much more intimidating in person. They giggle as you squeal and pull back your hand when a cloud of condensation escapes from the deer’s nostrils as it huffs loudly.

You turn to laugh with them, distracted as the reindeer leans in closer, your body tensing when you feel its hot breath on the back of your neck before it snatches your scarf from around your shoulders. The girls yell as you whip around to see it trot off, barely processing what just happened when you feel a warm hand on your back, Eddie’s frame coming into view as he slips past you and jumps the fence. He’s able to grab the scarf out of the creature’s mouth and sneak back onto your side of the fence before anyone who works there even notices.

You’re speechless as he hands your scarf back to you, El and Max cheering along with Robin and Nancy who’d noticed the commotion.

The younger girls are giggling again when Max interrupts the silent look you and Eddie share while the scarf is held in between the both of you. “You’re a real knight in shining armour this week Munson.” He looks up at Max as she and El walk away, looking for their boyfriends to ask if they’d brave a reindeer pen for them.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You take the scarf from his hands, grimacing at the wet patch on the light fabric. “Don’t know if you can get reindeer drool out of cashmere though.”

He snorts, “Maybe you shouldn’t have worn something so expensive to a petting zoo, princess.”

You brush off the nickname, not entirely sure if it was meant in jest. “You know I’m a feminist, I’m gonna need you to stop coming to my rescue Eddie.”

He smirks, “I don’t think that’s feminism, I think that’s stubborn independence to the point of detriment.”

He was taunting. Flirting really, but Eddie forgets it takes time for people to figure out he’s not just being grumpy all the time. That he isn’t as mean as his initial wariness of people might suggest. For a second he forgets that you haven’t always been a part of this group – that you don’t know him like the others do.

The awestruck look that had graced your face drops. “Jeez okay, I didn’t realise we were reading each other.” His eyes go wide as you shrink into yourself. “You know, I realise you probably don’t like me very much and you might feel like I’m ruining your time with your friends at Christmas, but I am trying Eddie.”

He hates the way your eyes begin to water.

“Robins told me so much about all of you, I know how much you all mean to each other and I really didn’t want to intrude on that, but she insisted that it would be okay. She’s letting me spend the holidays with her family because I don’t have one, and I don’t want her to regret that.” You look down at your feet, “I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from now on.” 

Eddie clenches his eyes shut as you walk away to find Robin or anyone else who won’t mind you joining in.

“Nice work Munson.”

***

Once the group have had their share of reindeer petting and eaten the cookies you and Robin had brought along with some hot cocoa from a nearby stand, everyone gathers in the town square again for the annual Secret Santa. You’re huddled together with Robin, head leaning against hers as you steal each other’s warmth and the group gathers in a circle, Steve tossing pieces of paper with everyone’s name written on them into his beanie.

Eddie keeps stealing glances at you as Steve goes around the group, dramatically holding a gloved hand to each of the teens’ eyes and yelling, “No peeking!”

Eddie feels shit. He can’t believe he’s made you feel unwelcome. Well, he can. He knows he can be guarded when it comes to letting new people into his life, but you’re one of Robin’s best friends – spending Christmas with her because you don’t have anywhere else to go and he’s made you feel like he doesn’t want you here. Asshole.

When Steve gets round to you and Robin, he holds the hat out to her then moves on to Jonathan and Argyle next. You figure you’re too new to the group to partake in this tradition, which seems fair. Steve rounds out the wonky circle with Eddie, dropping the beanie with a “whoops” before fumbling on the ground with it, then holding it out to Eddie. You notice him squinting his eyes in suspicion, wondering what’s going on between them when Steve comes back to you.

“Lucky last,” he smiles that charming cherub grin of his and you reach into the beanie to pull the last piece of paper out.

Of course it would be.

Steve reminds everyone of the budget and secret part of Secret Santa with a pointed look at Mike, who frowns in offence before the group starts heading off in different directions.

Robin moves to stand in front of you. “Who’d ya get? Do you need help? I can bend the rules for you seeing as you don’t properly know everyone.”

“Yeah, I feel like I’m a bit disadvantaged.” You laugh nervously, “I uh, I got Eddie.”

“Oh great! He’s easy. Big nerd, you know what he likes.” She starts counting off on her fingers, “Music, DnD, Lord of the Rings and all that fantasy stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You shrug.

She hooks her arm with yours again, “C’mon let’s go together, I got Nancy. I feel like you’ll be better at picking something for her than me.”

***

After an hour and a half, you’re about ready to give up. You helped pick out a faux-leather journal and fountain pen set for Nancy from Robin, but you haven’t been able to find anything remotely good for Eddie’s gift. Everything feels impersonal like something he could’ve just picked up himself and the last thing you want is for him to be disappointed that you got him for the gift exchange. Just another friend-only activity that your presence has ruined.

You’re currently browsing through a second-hand bookstore, hoping to find something you can curl up on the couch in your apartment with during the rest of the holidays, while Robin’s popped into the bath and body shop across the street to look for a gift for her aunt.

Your eyes scan the hardbacks in the fantasy section, fingers running lightly across the spines when they come to a stop on a light green book. You tilt the book from the shelf, admiring the mountains and dragon carved in navy blue adorning the border. This could be perfect. Carefully opening the worn cover, you find an inscription written in the yellowed pages that makes you smile. You close the book softly and head to the counter to ring it up. Maybe he wouldn’t be disappointed.

Dear Henry,

In celebration of our mutual liking – I hope Bilbo becomes a friend as well.

Happy Birthday,

Love, your Arwen

***

Christmas Eve

The butcher paper wrapped gift sat heavy in your palm as you’re greeted by Steve in his living room when you and Robin walk in. You hold up the present in question, keen to get rid of it before your clammy hands ruin the red satin bow decorating it, and Steve points you in the direction of the pile under the colourfully lit tree. You take a moment to admire the personal ornaments, the glint of a red 20-sided dice reminding you of the other inhabitant of this apartment.

The famous Harrington Christmas Eve party had been talked up by Robin for months. In her attempt to get you to Hawkins, she promised you a preview of the King Steve you’d heard her tease him so much about (which he vehemently denied was a thing), potently spiked punch (which you would not be partaking in) and impromptu games out on the street that would cause noise complaints from the neighbours.

And now that Steve and Eddie shared an apartment? Apparently, rowdiness was a prerequisite.

You’re more nervous than you should be as you settle in, taking solace in Jonathan and Will’s quiet company on the couch as you sip on a non-spiked mug of egg nog. It isn’t until half an hour later that Eddie even shows up, despite this being his apartment.

He walks into the living room, cheeks red from the cold, snow still sprinkled on his shoulders and in his hair. He’s followed closely by Dustin who’s rugged up in an assortment of knitwear that looks like it was definitely made by a doting family member, and grins when everyone greets him.

“Finally, you two.” Steve walks in from the kitchen with a bowl of freshly poured potato chips. “Everyone’s here, we’re getting ready for Secret Santa.”

Eddie just nods at him, offering you a tight-lipped smile when you catch his eye before he walks over to the tree to place something under it with his back turned to you.

While everyone gathers in the living room, he ducks out. Returning without all the extra layers, his crisp white t-shirt takes you by surprise and your eyes wander to the silver chain around his neck.

Pull it together, honestly.

“Okay, I’m first!” Robin walks across the room to the tree by the front window, only to be stopped by Steve’s arm.

“What? Why are you first?”

“Well, someone has to be dingus. Why not me?” 

“Uh, maybe we should let our guest be the first?” Everyone turns their head towards you and the attention makes you sink further into the couch.

“Oh, no Robin is always first.” You wink in her direction, then frown. “Wait, did that sound weird?” You look at Jonathan and Will who both chuckle, the older boy giving you a shrug.

After Robin tears through her present the decision is made to go anti-clockwise around the room. The closer it gets to Eddie who’s sitting on the couch opposite you, the more your palms begin to sweat. You don’t think your heart could take him being indifferent to his gift, and you hated that you cared so much about what he thought. What was this town doing to you?

When Steve hands Eddie his gift your back automatically straightens, perched perilously on the edge of your seat you grip the mug of egg nog in your hands. He takes his time with unwrapping, not diving straight in and tearing like you would’ve expected, even draping the ribbon around his neck once he’s untied it. When he gets to the gift the room is mostly silent, save for the Christmas carols playing from the stereo in the corner. You’d already clocked The Kinks, The Damned and Ramones – sure that the boy who held your last ditch gesture in his hands had picked the tunes.

Eddie’s face is stoic as his fingers run along the cover of the book. When Dustin and Mike, sat near him spot what it is they share exclamations of “Sick”, but you’re more interested in the metalhead’s opinion. You take in a deep breath as he opens the well-preserved cover and you watch his eyes read the inscriptions.

After much back and forth you’d decided to leave your own message next to the original one. Writing in pencil in case he wanted to erase it.

He rubs his freshly shaven jaw then his eyes find yours across the room. They’re soft. Pools of awe that match the tone of his quiet voice.

“Thank you.”

You offer him a small smile, “You’re welcome.”

“How did you know it was from her?” Dustin pipes up from his seat on the floor.

“Lucky guess.” His eyes hadn’t left yours until then, and you watch him scan the message again.

Dear Eddie,

I know you’re already well acquainted but I thought what better company on a long winter’s night than the second best party to go on adventures with (second only to your own of course).

Merry Christmas,

C.G.

xx

You feel his eyes on you as the rest of the gift-giving takes place around you. Wiping the sweat off your palms now that the moment was over, but the tension you’d felt hadn’t lifted from your chest – only tethered itself to the cause that was sitting across the room lightly brushing his thumb over your offering.

You’re the last in line to open your Secret Santa, but the attention of the room has been caught up in the gifts that have already been revealed. You’re admiring the new camera bag Jonathan is turning over in his hands when Steve taps you on the shoulder. He holds out a small parcel that fits in the palm of his hand and winks at you when you take it, before walking over to sit by Dustin.

You look down at the parcel wrapped in shiny red paper, tugging at the twine tied around it when you feel the weight of the couch shift beside you.

Eddie takes up more room than Jonathan who’s now sitting on the arm of the sofa across from you with Nancy’s arm draped over his leg. He’s manspreading a little, but the only reason you notice is because of the close proximity of his knee to yours.

“You got me,” he gestures to the gift in your hands, “I mean I got you. Well, I guess both are true.” He holds up his new copy of The Hobbit and smiles softly.

You look down at your lap again and begin to unwrap your present, Eddie’s leg bouncing next to yours. A glint catches your eye as a pair of dangly ruby earrings is revealed.

“They’re not real obviously,” Eddie scratches his jaw, “and Robin said you’d be happy with anything, like a snow globe or candy but I saw these in the drugstore and thought they’d look good on you.”

You smile, “Eddie they’re really pretty. Thank you so much.”

He blows out a puff of air, “You like them?”

“I love them, honestly. Oh, look we match!” You hold out the earrings next to the ring on his finger sporting a small ruby stone.

His cheeks are dusted in pink as he smiles, “Yeah, I guess we do.” You ask him to hold the earrings you had in before as you swap them. “You don’t have to put them on now.”

“I know, I want to.”

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, mesmerised as he watches you put on his earrings. “What does C.G. mean by the way?” He opens the book in his lap again.

“City girl.” The frown on his face troubles you momentarily before he speaks again, doe eyes pining you down once more.

“Thank you. It’s really special. You’re really–“ He trails off, eyes searching yours as you wait for him to finish his sentence. But he doesn’t. Instead, he gets up so abruptly that you flinch. “I gotta uh, find something…I’ll be back.”

You turn to Will who had been not so subtly watching the whole exchange from the other side of the couch and gives you a sympathetic smile when you say, “I still don’t know where I stand with him.”

***

For the next twenty minutes, you only see glimpses of Eddie as he darts in and out of rooms. Stomping around like he’s on a mission, a crease etched deeply in his brow. While Nancy and El are admiring your earrings in the kitchen, you hear a squeak of shoes on the linoleum before you see a blur of brown hair disappear around the corner.

You excuse yourself, finding Eddie alone in the hallway, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed and head tilted to the ceiling.

“Eddie, are you okay?” He shakes his head and huffs out a bitter laugh. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s always goddamn mistletoe at these things. Steve always gets drunk and tortures people with it, but then this year? Of course there’s none!”

You step closer, now standing in front of him but he doesn’t meet your eye. You’re confused. “Why do you need mistletoe?”

“So I have an excuse to kiss you.”

Oh.

OH.

Wait, what?

“Why don’t you just…kiss me?”

His head snaps down, eyes flickering back and forth between yours with a frown. “Can I?”

You bite your lip to stop the enormous smile threatening to creep onto your face. “Yes Eddie, you can kiss me.”

He pushes himself off the wall, crowding your space and reaching a hand out tentatively to touch your face, thumb gently stroking your skin like he had the book. He searches your eyes for any hesitation before he leans in slowly until your fluttering lashes tickle his cheek and he can’t take it anymore. The kiss is as soft as the snow falling in flurries outside, one elongated peck before you're both leaning in for another, and another. Turning tender as he reaches his other hand to pull you closer by the waist. You can taste peppermint on him, probably from one of the candy canes hanging on the tree, but it’s the warmth from his chest and the heady scent of his cologne and smoke that clings to his shirt that has you lost in him. So lost that when his thumb gently pulls down on the side of your mouth, you let him in with no hesitation, his tongue now spreading his warmth from the inside.

“Wow, that got R-rated really quick.” You jump and lean back, not moving far with Eddie’s grip still on your waist. You look down the hall and catch Robin nodding with a look of slight disgust on her face next to a smirking Steve standing there with his arms crossed.

Eddie bows his head and sighs, “Really? Think you can maybe take the commentary somewhere else Harrington?”

He holds up his hands in defence, a leafy twig with white berries hanging from his hand. “Hey, I was just coming to give you two a push, but it looks like the party’s already started.”

Eddie pinches the skin in between his brows, “For fuck sake.” You cover your mouth with your hand at the sight of the deep blush creeping into his cheeks, which deepens even further when you both hear Dustin yell from the other room.

“Did he kiss her yet?!”

Eddie groans and moves his hand to the small of your back to guide you out the door, flipping off the audience at the end of the hall before grabbing your coats off the hanger. He helps you into yours and leads you outside the apartment building by your hand.

For the first time since you arrived in Hawkins, you don’t notice the cold that greets you, focused entirely on Eddie’s warmth as he crowds you against the brick wall of the building. He holds one arm above you, almost enveloping you in his soft waves when he leans in.

That intense gaze has you shying away again, opting to play with the zipper of his jacket instead of looking back.

“You really liked your gift that much huh?”

“I really like you.” He tilts your chin up.

“I didn’t think–“

“I’m sorry if I made you feel unwelcome,” he frowns. “I have trouble letting people in.”

You shake your head and he moves his hand to stroke along your jaw. “It’s okay, this is a very special family I’ve walked into. I understand why you’d be wary of anyone disturbing that.”

“You fit right in. I promise.”

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He smirks, “Also, I’m just really, really bad at flirting when it comes to drop-dead gorgeous city girls.”

You grin, “I think you’re probably better at it than you think.”

He leans in, lips a breath away from yours, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

***

Christmas Day

The screen door shudders under your touch as you knock on the trailer, your gloved hand coming back to wrap around the translucent cake plate tucked into your chest. You hear muffled footsteps before the inside door swings open to reveal a beaming Eddie on the other side.

“Hi,” you smile.

You step back to let him open the screen door and he meets you with half a step out, grabbing the plate from you before placing a gentle kiss on your lips that has you desperate for more.

“Hi, sweet girl. C’mon in.”

You follow his warmth, “There’s only half left of the cheesecake. I’m sorry Robin and her family already ate most of it, then I kind of hid it when I realised I didn’t have anything to bring over – I think it tastes pretty good though. And I brought this wine, which is all they had left at the store and it only came in this gigantic bulk size, I think it might be half water–”

You feel Eddie’s smile as he presses his lips to yours again, “It’s okay sweetheart. You didn’t have to bring anything.” “I know, but I wanted to make a good first impression and we both know that I…don’t.”

He chuckles, “Trust me, I was blown away as soon as you stepped outta that car.”

You roll your eyes, snappy reply dying on your tongue when you hear a door open and an older man walks down the short hallway towards you. “Hi, Mr Munson.” Eddie squeezes your shoulder as you step forward with your hand held out and introduce yourself. “Thank you so much for having me, I hope I’m not intruding on your Christmas.”

“Nonsense,” he frowns at you, the resemblance uncanny, and brings you in for a tight hug. “Please call me Wayne, darlin’. Honestly, Ed’s been bouncing off the walls waiting for you to come so you might be able to do me a favour and get him to sit still.”

“We were just watching Gremlins.”

“Oh, I love that film! I didn’t get to appreciate it the other day because I was hungover–I mean…we were busy baking cookies.” You feel Eddie’s chuckle on the side of your face.

“She brought baked goods and wine, Wayne. All for lil’ old us.” He squeezes your shoulder again.

“It’s not any good.” You hold out the cheap bottle to Eddie’s uncle.

“Oh hell, anything you can uncork, uncap or unscrew, I’ll drink it.”

You laugh, shoulders relaxing under Eddie’s subtle massage.

***

You feel light.

Floaty and fuzzy with the laughter coming from beside you, your body sinking into the worn couch and Eddie’s gentle stroking of the back of your hand grounding you in the moment. The Munson’s, like almost everybody else in Hawkins had welcomed you into their home with open arms.

It was Christmas and you were curled up on the couch with a boy who meant something to you. Allowed to be a part of a family if only for a short period.

“So little miss, you headin’ home tomorrow?” You turn to Wayne, who’s sitting in his armchair, eating a piece of the cheesecake you plated up for him with Eddie’s help.

“I was planning on it, but you know the airport gets so busy during the holidays and Robin’s still gonna be here so…I think I might just stay till New Year, actually.”

Eddie’s head snaps from the TV set towards you. He grips your hand a little tighter to get your attention.

“Is that right?”

You turn to him, “Yeah. Are you–are you gonna be around?”

“No,” he shakes his head, frowning in that way that’s starting to make your heart flutter, “I gotta work. Lotta damsels in distress needin’ me to rescue them from the side of the road.” You feel the heat creep up your neck as Wayne rolls his eyes at his nephew.

“Wanna ride shotgun?”

~ THE END ~

Tagging: @eddieslooneymoonie, @micheledawn1975 – thank you for asking!

[cheynovak]

Between Power and Freedom

Part 2

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Shurley Female character     

Summary: Y/N, the ambitious daughter of a powerful CEO, grapples with her father's choices, while she secretly takes a job with Dean Winchester, the rugged CEO of a rival company. Sparks fly between Y/N and Dean as they navigate their growing attraction amid corporate rivalry and family pressure.

Warnings: This story will contain parts that are 18+!

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Dean stormed out of the venue, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. The cool night air hit him as he strode towards the old Chevy Impala parked in the lot, his first car. It didn’t matter that he was the CEO of Winchester Industries now or that he could afford the most luxurious cars on the market; the Impala was a part of him, just like the memories of his sister, Charlie. He could never part with either.

Sam followed closely behind, watching his brother’s tense shoulders and the way Dean’s jaw was locked, clearly trying to keep his anger in check. He knew how much it took for Dean not to turn around and hit Chuck Novak right in the face.

“Don’t let him get to you like that,” Sam said softly, hoping to calm his brother down.

Dean spun around, his eyes burning with fury. “I can’t help it, Sammy. He needs to keep our sister’s name out of his greasy mouth!” He kicked the tire of the Impala, the frustration boiling over. “He’s a snake, you know that. He poked me right where it hurts, and he knows it.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “I know, Dean. Trust me, I do. But you know as well as I do that punching Chuck would only lead to more trouble—legal issues, court dates, all the crap we don’t need. We’d be playing right into his hands.”

Dean’s shoulders slumped slightly, and he leaned against the Impala, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re right. God, you’re right,” he muttered. “But that doesn’t make me want to hit him any less.”

Sam leaned against the car beside him, thinking. There had to be a better way to deal with Chuck. As much as they both hated it, they had to think strategically.

Dean was silent for a few moments, staring off into the distance. Then suddenly, he straightened up, a sly grin creeping across his face. “Why don’t we hit him where it really hurts?” he said, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Sam raised an eyebrow, unsure of where Dean was going with this. “What do you mean?”

Dean’s grin widened. “His daughter, Y/N. You saw her tonight, didn’t you? She looked miserable. Unhappy with her job, stuck under his thumb.” He paused, looking at Sam. “Chuck’s grooming her for something, probably to marry that slimy bastard Gabriel, and you know how he is. But if we steal her away from him? Offer her a job, something where she can get out from under Chuck’s control… that’ll drive him insane.”

Sam frowned, trying to follow Dean’s line of thought. “Dean, Y/N’s… well, overqualified for any position we have right now. The only opening we’ve got is in accounting, and with her degree, she could easily be in a management role. I doubt she’d be interested.”

Dean waved it off. “Doesn’t matter. Offer it to her anyway. Give her an out, let her make the decision. It’s not just about the job, Sam—it’s about giving her a way to break free. She’s stuck in Chuck’s world, just like we were stuck in Dad’s, but if she sees there’s another option… she might take it. And when she does? That’ll hurt Chuck more than any punch ever could.”

Sam looked thoughtful for a moment, weighing the idea. “You really think she’ll go for it?”

Dean nodded, his face serious now. “She’s smart, Sam. She’s not like her old man. She’s looking for something more, something that isn’t tied to Chuck’s empire. And even if it’s just a small accounting job to start, it’s a step toward something bigger.”

Sam sighed, seeing the determination in his brother’s eyes. Dean was set on this, and in a way, he had a point. If Y/N was as trapped as she seemed, offering her a lifeline could be the one thing that pulled her away from her father’s grip.

“Alright,” Sam finally agreed. “I’ll reach out to her. Schedule a meeting, see if she’s interested.”

Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder, his grin returning. “That’s my boy. Set it up ASAP. The sooner we get her away from Chuck, the better.”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “You always have a plan, don’t you?”

Dean smirked, pushing himself off the Impala. “I don’t just have a plan, Sammy. I have a mission.” He looked back at the event hall, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Chuck has been on top for too long, playing people like pieces on a chessboard. But not this time. This time, we’re flipping the game on him.”

With that, Dean opened the door to the Impala, sliding into the driver’s seat, the engine roaring to life as he revved it. Sam climbed in beside him, already pulling out his phone to make a note to contact Y/N.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Dean’s focus was sharp. The night had been rough, but now, he had a plan. And this time, Chuck wasn’t going to see it coming.

--

The next morning, I was buried in my desk work at Shurley Enterprises when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen, a number I didn’t recognize. Figuring it was some client or a follow-up from the event last night, I answered, my tone neutral.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s Sam Winchester,” the voice on the other end said, calm and familiar. My brow furrowed in confusion. Why would Sam be calling me?

“Uh, hi Sam,” I replied, not quite sure where this was going.

“I wanted to follow up on something,” he began, his tone kind but serious. “Dean and I were talking last night, and we wanted to offer you a position at Winchester Industries. I thought this might be an opportunity for you.”

At first, I bristled, my defenses kicking in. “What? You want me to leave my dad’s company? I’m not some pawn you can use to get back at him.”

“No, Y/N,” Sam said quickly, and I could hear the sincerity in his voice. “This isn’t about that. I… I know what it’s like to work under a father who has plans for you that don’t exactly match what you want. To feel like your life isn’t your own.”

There was a soft pause. “Dean and I had to take over the family business after our dad passed, but before that, it felt like we were on his path, not ours. I get it if you feel trapped.”

I was silent for a moment. He was right, that was exactly how I felt—like my life wasn’t my own, like I was just living out my father’s plans. Sam’s words hit closer to home than I’d like to admit, and for a second, I considered the idea of escaping Shurley Enterprises. So, I agreed to meet him for coffee during lunch to discuss the opportunity.

We met at an old café not too far from my office, a quaint little place with mismatched chairs and the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. When I arrived, I spotted Sam immediately. He was sitting by the window, looking much more casual than the sharp suit he wore at last night’s event.

He wore a jeans—expensive ones, I could tell—and a simple polo shirt. Yet, even in casual clothes, there was an air of professionalism about him.

As soon as he saw me, Sam stood up and smiled warmly, greeting me with a kiss on the cheek. It caught me off guard, but in a surprisingly pleasant way.

“Hey,” he said, pulling out the chair for me.

“Hey,” I replied, sitting down. I could feel the tension ease as we started talking, like we were already old friends. Sam had a way of making conversation feel natural, even though just yesterday we had been strangers. We talked about the event, about small things, about the café itself, but I knew why we were really here.

After a while, Sam steered the conversation back to business. “So, about that job offer… We could really use someone like you at Winchester Industries. The position I have right now is in accounting. I know it’s not much, but Bobby, our current accounting manager, is close to retiring. When that happens, the position is yours if you’re interested.”

I took a deep breath, mulling over his words. Sam wasn’t lying. He wasn’t offering me a glamorous, high-powered role. But he was offering me an escape, a chance to build something for myself, away from my father’s control. Still, the thought of leaving Chuck, despite everything, wasn’t something I could just do on a whim.

“I… I appreciate the offer, Sam. I really do,” I said slowly, my voice soft but firm. “But I can’t just leave my dad’s company like that. He might be difficult, but he’s still my father. And Shurley Enterprises—it’s my family’s legacy.”

Sam nodded, his expression understanding. “I get it, Y/N. Family’s complicated. I won’t pressure you. But, if you ever decide you want something different, something that’s yours, the door’s open.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, sliding it across the table toward me. “Here’s my number. If you change your mind, or if you ever just need to talk, give me a call.”

I picked up the card, turning it over in my fingers. It was a simple gesture, but somehow, it felt like more. It was a reminder that I had options, that I wasn’t as trapped as I thought.

“Thank you, Sam,” I said, smiling at him.

“Of course,” he replied, smiling back, his eyes warm and genuine. For a moment, I thought about what it would be like to work for someone like Sam. Someone who listened, who understood. But I wasn’t ready to make that leap just yet.

We finished our coffee, the conversation drifting back to lighter topics. And when we finally parted ways, I walked back to Novak Enterprises with Sam’s card tucked securely in my purse, knowing that no matter what happened, I had a choice.

And maybe, one day soon, I’d make it.

--

When I got home that night, I could feel something was off the moment I stepped through the door. The lights were on, and there was the faint smell of whiskey lingering in the air. My heart skipped a beat as I realized my dad had let himself into my apartment.

“Dad?” I called, already knowing the answer. He was standing in the living room, his arms crossed, his face flushed with anger. I hadn’t even had time to put my bag down before he was glaring at me, his posture radiating fury.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though my stomach churned. I had never seen him this mad before—not at me, at least.

“I heard,” he began, his voice sharp and accusatory, “that you had a date with a Winchester today.”

My heart sank. He knew. How did he know?

“No, Dad, it wasn’t a date. Sam invited me for lunch, but it’s not what you think,” I said quickly, stepping forward, trying to explain before things escalated. But it was no use. I could see the storm in his eyes, and I knew there was no reasoning with him.

“What I think” he spat, taking a step closer to me, “is that you should be spending more time thinking about our business. And about Gabriel. Not having lunch with the competition.”

I sighed, my eyes dropping to the floor. It was always the same with him—business, control, and Gabriel. The suffocating expectations that were becoming unbearable. But before I could say anything, he roughly grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

“Why did you meet with Sam Winchester?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “What did he want?”

“T-to offer me a job,” I stammered, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks from his grip. My heart raced, and I could see the moment the words hit him. His eyes widened in shock, but what came next caught me completely off guard.

“And what did you say?” he asked, his voice almost too calm, but I knew better. It was the calm before the storm.

“I declined,” I whispered, my voice trembling. I barely had time to process what was happening before his hand lashed out and struck my cheek, hard enough to sting and send me stumbling back a step.

“Are you stupid?!” he yelled, his face contorting with rage. “Do you even understand what you’ve done? You could’ve accepted! Worked for them! Do you have any idea what an opportunity that was? We could’ve torn them apart from the inside out, you stupid child!”

My vision blurred, both from the hit and the words. He didn’t care about me—he never did. He only saw me as a tool, a way to further his ambitions. And for the first time, the weight of it crashed down on me. He would never see me as his daughter. He would never love me for me.

Without thinking, I reached for my phone, my hands trembling. I could feel my dad watching me, his breath heavy, his eyes still full of anger.

I dialed Sam’s number.

“Y/N?” he answered after a couple of rings, his voice filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll take the job,” I said, my voice shaking but determined. I swallowed hard, glancing at my father, whose expression turned from shock to cold fury. “I’ll take the job, Sam.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, then Sam’s voice softened. “Alright. We’ll make the arrangements.”

I hung up the phone and put it back in my pocket. My dad���s face twisted, "Good girl."

--

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[laylajeffany]

Grant Us Peace, Forevermore |  Chaos Universe OneShot for @endofn1ght

Summary: Wednesday and her fellow Raven (OC/Emiliana) engage in witchcraft, looking for additional peace after the horrific events of the past year continue to weigh on them. WC: 4.9k (part of layla's <5k challenge that barely makes it lol) Rated: E

Note: New Lovely Thorns content coming in the next day or so, for now enjoy revisiting another OC from the Chaos universe as @endofn1ght prompted Chaos-verse Wednesday with Emiliana doing witchcraft. Thank you for all the support and forcing me to analyze some of my work in ways I hadn't previously thought about. This is part of my less than 5k writing challenge of prompts that I'm only allowed to work on at my place of employment when my free time is actually free (was a little less than usual over the last week which is why this took so long).

Set between Wednesday's birthday at the end of Chapter 31 and the start of the epilogue; end of semester / late April-ish at Nevermore - enjoy!

Wednesday kicked the final bit of gravel on her way up to the front porch of one of her favorite places. Emiliana’s cottage looked somehow smaller in the late spring; with everything finally green, the large shade cast from centuries-old woods dwarfed the structure considerably. Augustus slithered down her wrist, excited to enter the home, irritate Piper and greet his favorite turtles. The windows were open on the front, and she assumed likely the French doors on the back. Glad that Emiliana was letting in fresh air, as sometimes the house took on a more powerful odor of stale cigarettes when it was just her home for a while, Wednesday was surprised to have to knock – that she hadn’t heard her coming.

The door opened, revealing a frazzled looking Emiliana. It wasn’t terribly out of the ordinary to find her hair tangled and in just her long, black skirt and too-loose tank top, but she looked particularly greasy that afternoon. Wednesday bit back a sigh instead of a hello as she considered she’d need to shove her in the shower before they did anything productive to relieve the nagging sensation swirling around in her gut. “What is the day?”

Struggling not to smile, Wednesday regarded, “It’s Thursday.”

“I have not gone mad, then. I hate it when you do this – you send me into mild cardiac arrest. You are unharmed?”

Nodding, Wednesday stepped in as she closed the door – spotting a mess in the kitchen, a sink filled with unwashed dishes, a pile of laundry on the sofa, and the floor of the living room covered in remnants of a spell. Her entryway altar was a disaster and Piper was nowhere to be seen – probably avoiding the chaos. She watched as Emiliana struggled to place Wednesday, and tried to read her energy at the same time. She wondered if Emiliana could sense just how unease she truly was.

“I attempted to call and text all morning. I finished working with Aunt Larissa on the proposal for the new council duties, and she doesn’t want me to start anything new until next week. Enid has physical therapy and then her rehearsal. Mother is working with the Doves on oaths, father is entertaining Fangs that are in town, Josie is doing real administration, and you know I simply can’t be bothered with the Nightshades.”

“I am your last resort, then,” Emiliana crossed her arms, her expression mostly playful.

“No,” Wednesday argued. “I just know that you prefer your alone time unless it’s scheduled and was explaining why I’m interrupting…” She looked around at the mess. “This.”

The older Raven gave a chuckle, tugging Wednesday to her and placing an obnoxious kiss on the top of her head. Augustus immediately tore off in search of the yellow and white snake he longed to bother. “You are the one person who can always interrupt me, little bird, regardless of how it fazes my mental state. I am afraid we will have to take most activities upstairs or outside as it is a touch of a mess in here…”

Wednesday popped a brow. “Just a touch? Em – go shower. You’re gross.”

She gave a little cackle into her smoker’s cough. “Indeed, I am. The week has flown by, apparently. I shall see you on the other side of clean,” She didn’t fight the direction, and took to the bathroom with a small salute.

Once she disappeared, Wednesday hurried to start picking things up. It was far from her responsibility, but as Emiliana had picked up so many of the pieces of her life that spring, it hardly seemed enough or like a burden to care for her. Realizing the laundry on the couch wasn’t to be folded, Wednesday rolled her eyes and stuffed it into the washing machine, then moved to unload the half-full dishwasher that Emiliana had been taking things out of instead of putting them away throughout the week. That didn’t take long, and she made haste to reload and run a cycle there, too.

She was sweeping salt away from her to put in a jar after getting the majority of the spell on the floor picked up when Emiliana came out with her wet hair curling into ringlets. She opened the French doors, as hoped, and wondered, “Might we start with music?”

Tilting her head a little, Wednesday decided that was more than appropriate. Her goals for the late April recovery period were to get back to some of her long-abandoned hobbies, and starting a spell session with Emiliana by playing her favorite instrument would be a remarkable way to return to it. Playing music had once been one of her only ways of settling her spirit, and to play with a fellow Raven would be helpful.

She moved it to the end of the couch, wishing Thing were there to turn the pages as Emiliana set up a collapsible music stand for her and placed the selection she wanted there. “I have been composing something I shall play for you after this warmup, and perhaps you can come up with the strings to match?”

“I confess, original music content hasn’t been my forte over my studies, but I would be willing to try,” Wednesday agreed with a small shrug. Emiliana slipped onto her piano bench, wiggled her fingers, and counted them down twice before starting the melody to a famous duet.

Wednesday came in on the third line of music, her bow sweeping over the strings as her fingers moved in time up top. She couldn’t help the smile that came over her features as she got into it – the old habit returning, a swell of joy filling her from the outside in.

The first selection was about eight minutes long, and as it wrapped, Emiliana clumsily dashed over to Wednesday, hugging her tightly. “I love you.”

Grinning into her shoulder, Wednesday gave something like a nuzzle. She considered what she knew about the other Raven that had impacted them – how David Bowie’s music had been the soundtrack of her life. There was something distinctly soothing about music to someone so dark-coded as they, and she wondered if Goody had preferences as well, even if they were liturgical.

“Play me your new song?”

Nodding, Emiliana returned to her favorite place, closing her eyes and squaring her shoulders before letting the ivory keys take her away. She started, playing mostly minor chords – a haunting tune that Wednesday knew just what to do with, instinctively after the first repeating section. She jumped in – natural ability filling the air with cello sounds along with the piano.

It went on – the two playing in harmony for nearly twenty minutes. As they managed to come to a close without a single line of verbal communication, Wednesday was the one to get up first. She tugged Emiliana’s wrists, leading her to the back porch, where they sat on the swing together in silence.

There weren’t words needed between them – the energy spoke volumes. Emiliana kicked back, letting the swing rock. They both lost time – but not in a dangerous way, as they swung back and forth, back and forth until –

“Em? Oh! Hey, Wednesday!” Josie appeared, wearing a pair of athletic pants and an old reptile rescue organization t-shirt, her hair up in a high ponytail. She leaned down to push a kiss on Emiliana’s temple. “I tried to get a hold of you earlier, I figured you might be in the ether. Did you still want to do spring foraging and grocery shopping…?”

Emiliana opened and closed her mouth. “I am afraid I was not aware of the day. What is the time?”

“Going on four-thirty…I finished a meeting and swapped duty with Larissa for Sunday – I’ve got things to do at school then, regardless – I might as well be required to be there. I am so cool to just have turtle time if you -”

“I would still like – and require to, head into the forest. My stores are woefully low. Might we bring a small bird with us?”

“Yeah,” Josie smiled with teeth. “Provided she wants to? Wednesday – I’m not sure what your intentions were here?”

“To spend time with another creature of the dark,” She spoke in earnest. She wasn’t upset with it being Josie who disrupted the moment – but she certainly wasn’t ready to give Emiliana over to her fiancée. “My mother is out of birch – we could collect and distill some – if you’d be willing to go that far into the woods.”

“Whatever you need. The evening is mine now – we can go for a gathering walk, get groceries, eat something – then I am content to leave you two alone after for a bit before we’re ready to wind down for the night.”

Wednesday hurried in for a basket and her boots, while Emiliana insisted it was more than warm enough to be barefoot. Standing on the back porch with Augustus back around her shoulders from where he’d been snuggled in with a half-consenting Piper, Wednesday watched her big sister figures sharing a kiss in the middle of the grass before disrupting them with a hard stare. Josie giggled and pulled her to be between the Ravens, one arm around either of them. They walked a familiar path deeper into the woods behind the cottage, while Josie filled them in on the latest with just two weeks left in the semester – she was busy, but it seemed like the warming weather had behavior incidents down and she’d been largely able to accomplish her work during the daytime hours, instead of being constantly disrupted. Wednesday was distracted by wildflowers, tapping into her unique botany abilities she’d learned to mimic, discovering that a few could very well be useful in potion making with Emiliana. The red aquilegia was particularly interesting, but she warned Emiliana thrice about not attempting to eat it – as the toxicity would prove for a long and challenging evening.

Josie rolled her eyes when she produced a knife from her boot to peel back birch bark. “I find it interesting you’re still keeping a knife on your person, given all the recent trouble that’s caused you?”

“Maybe I just never learn,” Wednesday said with a shrug. “The consequences didn’t relate to having it on my person-”

“Only because Emiliana and I tampered with a crime scene,” Josie sighed. Wednesday felt a strange twist in her stomach. “I’m just saying, Wednesday. I…I’m not saying to walk around unprotected, just…I don’t even know what I’m suggesting. I just don’t want you forget what you’ve been through.”

“Believe me, I couldn’t if I tried,” Wednesday grumbled, picturing the woman’s biological father in a pool of his own blood. The inability to forget was half the reason she’d come to Emiliana that day in the first place.

“Alright,” Josie pulled her close. “I won’t nag.”

Emiliana snorted in a yeah right sort of disbelief and Josie slugged her a little before gesturing to some wild berries.

The foraging walk went on until nearly five-thirty, where Josie pushed a fruit pouch on both of the Ravens before getting them ready to go to the store. Emiliana tried to argue that she wasn’t the one with blood sugar regulation problems, but Josie told her the last thing she needed was scurvy from a week straight of eating noodles and broth.

They loaded into her SUV and Wednesday apologized to Augustus, who was disappointed they weren’t heading out of town to the pet store to get some of the live tiny mice he was fond of killing before eating fresh. Realizing she’d never been grocery shopping with the two women before, Wednesday should’ve been less surprised at just what a scene it was, with Emiliana’s need to touch every piece of fruit or vegetable before putting it in the cart, and asking Josie to read every label on packaged foods that caught her eye. Understanding why Josie usually just helped her with a delivery order, she found herself exercising patience before finally making it back to get started on a late dinner.

Grateful she’d done the dishes so that it was one less thing to do before she got overly hangry and acted out on it, Wednesday enjoyed the simple dinner of warm sandwiches and the fresh fruit and vegetable cut up before Josie finished up and a knock at the door revealed her best friend, who was going to take her out for a drink while Emiliana and Wednesday did their...whatever they were going to do together.

Wednesday eagerly sorted the foraging materials and she and Emiliana set to work cleaning her altar, putting her stones and other items to charge in the moonlight in a basket before smiling at Wednesday when she plopped beside her. “Alright, my little witch, what are you thinking?”

“Something for peace,” She whispered, finally confessing what she really needed with her fellow Raven. “Enid and I…let’s just say – the nights are challenging. I’m not sure how long she is going to be tortured by memories. She’s already had the worst of the feeling removed by the twins, and still, each night at the witching hour…”

“Less you say,” Emiliana sighed. “I am unsurprised. I doubt that I could even attempt to fall asleep at all under the circumstances. Much as I might like to be under a weighted blanket, I do not like to be in an enclosed area, considering what she went through.” She shivered. “My parents used to lock me into the small powder room when I was tearing off and…well, let me just say – I understand. I think…it is not even peace you are looking for. More like certainty.”

“Either way,” Wednesday sighed. “If you can think of a blessing, a potion, or a spell that will help, I will try it.”

Emiliana wiggled her fingers, reaching for a spell book in her native language. She tried to read the contents but sighed and gave up after several minutes, flopping back dramatically on the meditative carpet, mindful of her head. “Wednesday, confessions of truth. It is getting worse.”

“What is?” She asked gently, looking at Emiliana out of the corner of her eyes.

“I am afraid…I am afraid I may be losing more skills. It is common, with a brain injury, regression, or worse, a total loss of a previously mastered skill. But you know I used to be able to at least read decently in French! Now I can hardly manage. Everything looks like squiggles.”

Frowning, Wednesday bit her lip. She really didn’t have any advice to offer. “Would you like me to read to you?”

Emiliana had the base of her palm pushing against her closed eyes. “How am I to read wedding vows if I cannot even read familiar spells?”

That was an entirely separate problem – but that one, Wednesday had a solution for. “You don’t need to read anything. You’ll speak from the heart. And – if you do prefer to have something prewritten, so you don’t slip up, I will help you memorize it. You will give Josie lovely vows, okay? Don’t worry about that.”

When Emiliana didn’t immediately respond, Wednesday frowned, stretching out on the floor beside her. “What are you worried about, if that was just a mask?”

“I feel perpetually like I burden,” Emiliana confessed. “I just do not want this marriage to be a trap for Josie to take care of me.”

Thinking about how other people probably thought that about herself and Enid – but they didn’t see just how Wednesday could show up or be there for her, because it wasn’t anyone’s business, she gave a hug to Emiliana’s shoulders. There were other people in the world who surely struggled with similar problems, but only they knew how uniquely different they were. What it was to be and love a creature of such dark, always striving for light…

Emiliana hugged her in return, and she could feel her crying. “Sometimes I want to take you and hide us away in the countryside and just forage and do potions and spells and meditations forever.”

“Josie would miss you too much, Emi,” Wednesday promised. “I was with her, when you were not. Believe me, she loves you more than you even understand. She takes care of you in different ways as one of her expressions of that love, not in spite of it. You are not a burden. It is to be without you, that is her burden. Hey,” She sat up a little, pulling her fellow Raven up. “Let’s make a peace altar, for both of us. For all we want to ask of the universe.”

“The universe does not want us to have peace, Wednesday! That is half the point of our curse, and you know it!”

“Want doesn’t always get,” Wednesday quoted the myriad of adults in her life who’d long warned her about always having things go her way. “We’ve defied the dark before, and we’ll do it again. Don’t be pessimistic.”

Emiliana sighed, looking up, then to the side. She frowned, sitting up and looking at Wednesday. “When did you become the hopeful one?”

“I had no choice, Em,” She spoke, thinking about that awful night that sent Enid screaming in the middle of almost every night since. “I had to have hope. And I’ll have hope today, for both of us if you can’t find it on your own. I’ll ask for it for you. Come, help me,” She said, closing the book. They didn’t need it. They’d do their own spell, their own way – with her intentions shining through the dark that was clouding Emiliana’s vision.

Heading out to the back porch, she lifted a small, homemade tarp (she loved the way that Emiliana made it her own, lining the silver with black, celestial fabric, and putting a clear vinyl over the top). Beneath it, she took a water carafe, willed with water that she blessed under the recent moon. Bringing it in and sitting at the altar, taking the trunk full of Emiliana’s stores and the basket from their walk, Wednesday watched as she wiped at her cheeks, but started to take out potion ingredients, her little picture labels likely coming in handier than ever.

“I am recalling, somehow,” Emiliana rolled her eyes even as the left one twitched. “Acorns, are for luck.”

She held up a jar full of those that were dried and collected likely from the fall, full to the brim. “Well, add fifteen and hope for peace, then,” Wednesday agreed simply, watching Emiliana line up three rows of five, watching her double count to be sure before setting them into a bowl. She looked at Wednesday, waiting for her to go next.

Reaching into the basket of their yield from the woods, Wednesday removed a blackthorn blossom, placing it with the acorns. “For warding off negative energy.”

Emiliana found a little bit of a smile, apparently finding her approval of Wednesday’s method, lifting a piece of bark. “The city was removing the trees with Dutch Elm disease in the winter. I took a sample, and Holly found it was actually not completely affected, so – I saved the healthy part…As Elm…um, it…helps to balance…?”

“The heart,” Wednesday finished, smiling herself, squeezing Emiliana’s hand.

“Four pieces, then – with a lucky knife. Perhaps…” She took on a serious expression, that also offered Wednesday an out. “Are you yet ready, to open my summoning chest, retrieve your own?”

Shaking her head, she made it clear – Wednesday was not ready for that. “Not yet. Perhaps, come fall – we could do a purification ritual under the harvest moon.”

“Excellent thinking. Add it to your mental calendar, then. I happen to have one…” She lifted up her hands, wandering over to the basket of tools on the tall shelf by her altar. “I once used this to so very carefully remove a hook from one of those babies over there – when Josie and I found him,” She gestured to the tank of turtles. “She says it is a lucky knife.”

She chopped her bark with even slices, tilting her head, inviting Wednesday to make the next choice.

Taking a glance through her many jars and small, homemade sinch-sacs, Wednesday found a dried, pink flower. “Hollyhock. Useful to personal growth.”

“Hm…” Emiliana’s left eye wandered for a moment before she pulled it back, blinking and reaching for a bag. “Mint – for energy. Goodness knows this grows everywhere I don’t want it to out there. I need Holly to spend some time with me,” She mumbled, dropping in seven leaves.

“Pennyroyal,” Wednesday took one from the basket. “For harmony, tranquility.”

“And finally, the liquids.” She took a basket off the shelf, putting lavender and sage oil out, before looking at Wednesday with a sigh, then – sudden watery eyes yet again. “I am so happy to have a partner in the dark to do this with.”

Wednesday gave her a half a smile before headbutting her. “Would you like to grind or smash?”

“Oh, grind, please. You,” She passed her a mallet, “Smashy girl.”

“Always,” She said gleefully, taking the acorns and elm sticks and rolling them into one of Emiliana’s homemade altar cloths, placing it all on a silicone mat and taking it outside, giving them a good few playful whacks before going to town – not letting them stand a chance against the depths of her unrestrained violence.

Once they were more into a powder, Wednesday brought the folded cloth back to Emiliana, who was grinding everything else together with a large mortar and pestle. She let Wednesday add the newly crushed ingredients and continued to grind it all together before Wednesday prepared a simple setup for their spell and blessing.

She carefully selected runes from Emiliana’s collection, placing one of her homemade shell symbols in the moon water she poured into a small simmering cauldron. “Peorth, for luck.”

Emiliana nodded, drawing three Ogham Staves, that Wednesday was sure she hadn’t used at least since the Solstice break at home with her mother. “Hm. Ironic, is it not?”

“Ura, for spiritual healing, Duir, for strength, and Sail, for balance? It sounds exactly like what we need. Put them on the meditation plane.”

Emiliana set it all up, rolling out a clean scarf, putting the three Ogham Staves in a row, placing the dry ingredients in front of them. She added six candles, a photo of Enid and Wednesday, and one of herself and Josie, then as many crystals that gave positivity that Wednesday imagined she had at the cottage. Satisfied with her spread, she crossed her legs and took Wednesday’s hand, lighting the candles with a wave of her own. “Would you like to give your intentions?”

“I acknowledge, the break in traumatic events that we are presently being allowed – from the universe. I express, my gratitude for it – as I am not sure how we could have continued to cope. But – the ramifications of all that took place, continue to haunt us. I implore, peace – positivity – light. I must be able to be more present and grounded, I must be able to provide comfort to my beloved who needs me most at the current time. Em?”

“I recognize,” She could hear her swallow, “My privilege in position, in wealth, in relative health. But I also feel a sense of futility – that I am not able to give enough to my own beloved, and that I am taking more. I implore – peace, positivity – light. I ask for these things to be stable. I must be able to give as much of myself as is given to me.”

Feeling their intentions were matched, Wednesday spoke in verse, letting a natural sense of rhythm and rhyme take over.

I seek both light and peace, I request that this darkness cease.   I need a positive force that can bring Something good to this endless spring. I require a flame from the eternal fire, To help me be a healer and inspire. I ask this, for the only one I adore - Grant us peace, forevermore.

Emiliana spoke a familiar blessing in French, and Wednesday smiled at her as she finished, pouring their dry ingredients into the pot, while Emiliana added the oils. They stirred together, focused on intentions, before Emiliana lit the flame in the fireplace and put the small cauldron on her hook. Cleaning up just a little bit from the spell – it wasn’t a terrible mess, they passed the time while waiting for the potion to brew, about three hours.

Not realizing how much time had passed, Wednesday felt her cheeks heat up when her mother opened the cottage door with Enid, finding Emiliana and Wednesday in the middle of a very dramatic tarot reading for her Beanie Babies. Enid managed to take a picture before suggesting they head home as it was going on her late snack and bedtime, and she wasn’t one to skip her routines.

Feeling just a little bit irritated that she wouldn’t be able to see the potion through to the end, Wednesday let Emiliana scoot both members of the party out to the front porch before she located Augustus from where he’d been antagonizing her own snake, putting the boy around Wednesday’s shoulders, and tugging her close. “I will mind the potion and bring it to you tomorrow morning with an appropriate color tie and charm.”

She hugged her in return, feeling a strange pit of emotion as she held onto Emiliana’s thin frame. She turned her cheek against her bony collarbone, looking to the side, staring at the fire. Wednesday knew her intentions were clear when creating the potion, but…she wasn’t so sure if it would hold up or prove effective.

As Emiliana embraced her long, it seemed like…sometimes – that homespun magic was all an illusion; the potions and spells sometimes felt like nothing more than a placebo effect. Perhaps it really was, and the magic of it all was belief and pluck and –

“You are thinking over, little bird.”

“I know,” She whispered, still clutching onto her.

“You have proved, time and again – you are very strong, very powerful.”

“At a cost. I don’t think that potion will cause anyone to be hospitalized.”

Emiliana’s fingers tangled under her braids as she pulled her back to look her in the eye. Her left one was twitching like it wanted to be shut for the night. “Do not estimate under the power you have,” Emiliana warned.

Nodding – not sure how to do that, but knowing Emiliana’s misused idioms were wise, she accepted her obnoxious kisses to her cheeks before taking her backpack and the Beanie Baby blackbird and scorpion from the floor, tucking them inside, seeing all the missed messages on her phone that had caused her girlfriend and mother to have to walk over to collect her. Giving a wave to Emiliana, Wednesday accepted next her mother’s hand to her shoulder before letting Enid envelop her in a warm greeting.

“Sorry for interrupting your Beanie Baby tarot reading. That looked really fun! Did you get anything good out of it?”

Wednesday hid a dramatic sigh, contemplating on the fairly neutral cards she’d drawn that night. “Nothing life-changing, for the better or worse.”

“Well, we’ll take that, too,” Enid let go and slipped her fingers between Wednesday’s, practically skipping along the solar-powered little garden lights that illuminated the path from Emiliana’s cottage to the Addams house.

Wednesday had made a potion to give her hope that night. The irony of it was – the only reason who’d ever given her any reason to chance that sensation in the first place, despite her chipper-looking demeanor on the trail, was the very reason she needed it, and would likely be hysterical in just six hours.

Trying not to think over as they made it home, ate her usual pre-bed snack and followed her established routine with Enid, Wednesday tucked in beside her. Enid was cuddled on top of her chest like usual, obviously exhausted from her day – and had slipped to sleep in minutes.  

She’d sought out Emiliana for the very same reason that her fellow Raven had spoken the quiet part out loud – when she struggled with her reading. Sometimes – the weight of the dark, even if there was no vision, no promise of horror from the universe, was simply too much. To be understood in a way that such a microscopic percentage of Outcasts had ever truly been cursed…

There was a light from the nightstand an hour and a half later as Wednesday wanted to take her mother’s sleeping potion, but also didn’t want to be too out of it when Enid woke up in short time. Reaching for her phone, she examined the picture Emiliana sent; her potion was in a small bottle, with white-dipped twine, tied around the neck, a small bird charm of promise adhered in wax. There was no text attached to it, just the picture of the potion.

It looked beautiful in the light of the still-burning candles and Wednesday sighed, putting it back, adjusting herself around Enid’s sleeping form as she rolled onto her side with a snore. She considered the poem she’d spoken in verse over the potion, willing the universe to grant her a few hours of peace before she’d be woken up to provide it to her traumatized girlfriend.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 5 Appeasing

Chapter 5 of Sugar

A/N- Such a cute brother and sister relationship, it would be a shame if…

Warning- Swearing, some angst, FLUFF!!, steamy scene, long chapter.

Pairing- Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode- A small part of 2x01

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“So,” Shoko rolls out slowly and in a teasing tone. “How is it?”

Huh?

You slowly look at her with bewilderment. “How is what?” You probe slowly.

Shoko laughs. “Geto, how is it being with him?”

You blink repeatedly and peer back at the path behind you, at the pond that was no longer visible as you walked down the hill. “Well,” you say as you breathe out. “Since we haven’t been dating long, it’s been good, very good. Suguru is very nice and sweet. We went out on a date the other day.” You glance at her and smile softly. “We went bowling, ate greasy pizza, and talked—”

“Talked huh?” Shoko snickers and nudges you.

You shoot her a pointed gaze and huff out as you gently push her aside. “Yeah. We talked, we got to know each other. And we…kissed…a lot.” You snicker but end up sighing deeply soon thereafter. “There’s only one thing that’s weighing us down…that thing being the fact that Satoru doesn’t know. That’s a real pain in our ass.”

“Surprise him,” Shoko suggests. “He loves surprises.”

You sigh. “Yeah, surprise Satoru, I’m dating your best friend. And your best friend is dating your little sister.” You rub your temple and groan. “Maybe I’ll write it on a cake?” You peek at Shoko, and she chuckles, making you smile and making this stress a bit easier.

“Well once you tell him let me know, I can’t say I’ll jump in a fight,” she jokes. “But I do want to know how he reacts. And if I need to bail you out of anywhere.”

You smile softly at the ground. “Yeah.” You nod. “I’ll let you know.” You proceed to exhale and look at the path ahead with a fading smile.

“So were you planning on not telling me?” Shoko interjects and pulls your attention back to her.

“Huh?”

“Well aren't we girls supposed to tell each other everything?” She explains as she pulls out a cigarette. “Gossip while we do our nails? Or eat ice cream?”

Here you thought she was going to lecture you, scold you for dating her friend. After all she was friends with them first, even if she teases them relentlessly, they’re still her friends, they’re in the same class year too, and when she does go to missions, she goes with them. So you thought she’d be protective of her friends, and were scared of telling her because of it.

“Well,” you scoff softly, and nervously begin to play with your sleeve. “To be honest you kind of scared me too. You’re their friend, I thought you’d be protective of Suguru, so I thought I’d wait to tell you.”

Shoko hums and plops the cigarette in between her lips. “Oh, well, sure they’re my friends,” she says, “but you’re my friend now too. And with Utahime being older, that keeps her away longer now, so I am in need of more girl friends. As you can tell there are a few girls in this damn school, and I can’t tell Geto and your brother everything. Just like I know you can’t possibly tell them everything. So we have to stick together, like you said.”

You sigh with relief. “Well that’s good to know,” you say softly. Plus it does feel good to talk about what went on between Suguru and you a moment ago, you’ve kept it in too long.

“And it’s a big relief,” you continue to say. “I can’t really talk to my other friends anymore since you know they are non-sorcerers, so it’s good that you’re here Shoko Ieiri.”

Said girl smiles and you then hook your arm around hers. “Now,” you add. “What do you want to know?”

Shoko pulls her cigarette out of her mouth and tilts her hand towards you. “Well I do want to know if you can light this for me.”

“Tsk.” However, even with your complaint you proceed to lift your finger and summon fire to light the end of her cigarette. “I do hope that’s not why you want to be closer,” you mumble.

Shoko once again pulls her cigarette to her mouth and shrugs. “What if it was?”

“You’d be an ass, that’s what,” you counter sassily.

Shoko snickers.

“So,” you probe as you throw your arm around her shoulders. “Are you currently pinning on anyone here?”

Shoko drifts her gaze to the side and scoffs. “No. I don’t want to date anyone I live with. You know how painful that'd be? Well perhaps you don’t know, but! It’d be a pain in the ass for me.”

You hum softly and smirk. “Well considering you’re our special doctor wouldn't that be more, I don’t know, easier?” You ask her. “You have to stay here more than anyone, so it’d be easier for you to date someone you live with.”

Shoko shrugs. “Sure,” she says. “But I don’t think I could do it. It’d annoy me. I don’t know how you’re going to do it.”

“Well.” You shrug. “It’s a good thing my brother likes to spend a lot of time with Suguru, right? We’re also in different school years, it keeps us both busy. Plus I don’t mind it much, I think It strengthens our bond…yet if something happens then,” you pause and exhale while you slide your arm off her shoulders to cross them over your chest. “That’d be the real pain. I don’t think I’d be strong enough to face loss like that.”

Shoko stays quiet for a moment before she interjects to assure you. “I wouldn’t worry about that, Geto is strong. Besides, he's always on missions with your brother they look out for one another.”

Yeah, that’s true.

“Plus,” you add and grin at her. “We have you too, doc.”

Shoko smirks and nods. “Exactly!”

You grin brighter and take her arm again to run down the last bit of the hill so you can take her with you to do some training together. However, when you come to the end of the hill, Haibara then crosses your path.

“Oh, y/n there you are,” he says and brings you to a stop with Shoko still beside you. “We’ve been summoned for a mission. Have you seen Nanami?”

You groan and nod stiffly. “Yeah. He should be up the hill with Suguru.”

“Ah,” he says and scratches the back of his head. “I’ll go get him.”

You hum in agreement. “I’ll meet you at the courtyard then,” you let him know, and then watch him as he runs up the hill. Haibara turns as he's running and gives you a brief thumbs up before turning again.

“I don’t understand how he’s always so happy to go to missions,” you point out when he’s out of sight.

“Money?” Shoko suggests, making you snicker.

“That’s true, that’s partially why I do it.” You chuckle.

“What’s the other part?” She asks.

You smirk now. “I get to show off and get stronger.”

——

*LATER*

Considering Nanami, Haibara and you are first years, the missions you get sent to aren’t difficult. Well they aren’t supposed to be difficult, but from time to time hard missions slip in because this career isn’t particularly a booming business.

You only hope today's mission is as it was told in your report. It’d be stressing having this turn out to be difficult, you can’t say you’ve fully recovered from that group mission, mentally at least.

Now more than ever you fear what can lurk in the shadows. Now unlike before the tiny hairs on the back of your neck always stand up when you’re out of school, when you’re on a mission. You’re hardly ever alone when you go out just casually, so the fear isn’t suffocating, but when you’re out on missions, even if you have your friends, your fear still crawls up and has a way to make you feel like it’s hard to breathe.

“I still find it pretty impressive that the school has the power to block out entire train stations,” you interject as you walk under the caution tape.

“Well you know it’s not just the school,” Nanami says as he leads the way. “Besides, it’s not hard to lie when people are pretty guilliable. They’ll believe anything.”

You hum in agreement and stretch out your arms upward before you groan in complaint and bend down to squeeze your foot.

“I don’t know why you keep insisting on wearing those boots,” Nanami grumbles, catching you by surprise. “You’re always complaining.”

Aw he’s noticed?!

“I just need to break them in,” you counter and quickly stand back up to catch up at his side.

“That’s what you said last time too,” Haibara points out.

You peer over at him and shoot him a pointed glare. “They’re cute,” you remark to the both of them. “And they’re Chanel.”

“I doubt Chanel had curse killing missions in mind when making those shoes,” Nanami counters. “Next time wear more comfortable boots.”

You grin and throw your arm around his shoulders. “Don’t be such a worrywart my friend. I’ll be fine. Beauty is pain after all.”

Haibara chuckles at your comment and Nanami drifts his gaze to you and groans.

“Not worried,” he mumbles. “It’s just annoying.”

You playfully roll your eyes and peer over at Haibara to share a knowing look. You both know he’s really worried.

“Just focus now,” Nanami adds and makes your arm slide off his shoulders with a gentle push.

You exhale deeply and nod slowly. “Yeah, yeah, I know. We’re looking for a curse that’s messing with the trains here at Shibuya station. Won’t be hard for us!” You exclaim smugly.

“Yes I like the way you think, y/n,” Haibara encourages you. “We’ll make light work of this and get some tapioca drinks after!”

You clap. “Yes! I like that plan. It’s like you read my mind Haibara!” You then proceed to high five each other whilst Nanami jumps down to the train tracks to follow the path that was given to you by your manager. Haibara and you don’t hesitate to follow, but this time, you make sure to wander over in between Nanami and Haibara. It feels safer walking in between them. It gives your mind a calming sense.

“So what are you going to do about Satoru?” Nanami cuts in. “Are you going to keep him in the dark forever?”

Your smile fades and that worry once again makes itself present front and center in your mind. “Well,” you sigh and pull your sleeve over your hand. “No, but I haven’t found the courage to tell him yet.”

“Tell him what?” Haibara questions since he doesn’t know about Suguru and you.

“Geto and y/n are dating,” Nanami just flat out says without even letting you speak. Tsk.

“What?” Haibara asks as he snaps his head to you to look at you with disbelief. “Since when?”

You huff in annoyance. “Since New Years,” you share.

Haibara blinks and stays in disbelief before his lips widen to a smile. “Well that’s good, no? I think we deserve to indulge ourselves in some sort of happiness.”

You can’t help but smile at his comment, but that doesn’t last considering the shadow that casts over you. “Yeah, you’re right, but Satoru doesn’t know yet, so Suguru and I would appreciate it if you pretended not to know. Just until we tell my brother.”

Haibara’s smile fades and his eyes widen with shock again. “What?” He stammers. “Why?”

“Because I don’t know how he’ll react, I need to think of what to say first, I need to test the waters,” you explain desperately. “Just please don’t say a thing. Just for now.”

Haibara scratches the back of his head and looks at you nervously. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it a secret if your brother confronts me about it.”

You shake your head. “He won’t confront you about it if you don’t make it obvious,” you argue. “Just pretend like you don’t know. Like before.”

“Well Geto and you make it obvious,” Nanami points out.

You shoot him a sideeye. “You’re not helping,” you grumble.

Nanami simply shrugs, making you groan before you look over at Haibara to try and assure him with a reassuring look. “We won’t hide it from my brother forever, okay? So don’t worry. Just…pretend like you know nothing.”

Haibara lets out a deep exhale and looks at you nervously. Yet before can assure you Nanami cuts in. “This is the place.”

You had been so focused on other matters that you hadn’t taken note of how dark it is in the tunnel. How eerie it all looks since the walls are tagged, the lights on the walls are dim, and the train is parked in the center before it could even reach its designated spot, making the station's tunnel look haunted almost. Which it kind of is in a way.

“Well this fucker must be hiding well,” you point out as you slowly walk away from your group in search of the damned curse. “I can’t—” you come to an abrupt stop as you then sense it just under the middle of the train.

“Just like we practiced?” You whisper as you creep towards the curse.

Nanami nods in agreement, and Haibara responds, “yes. I’m ready.”

Nanami then proceeds to depart from where he is to get his spot. You look ahead and begin to feel your pounding heart, you feel more chills go up and down your spine. It feels like your throat is only closing up more, but you continue to move forward. You won’t get strong otherwise.

“Little curse, little curse,” you taunt and slowly come to a stop just before you can reach the middle cart. “Where. Are. You,” you say and bend down to look under.

Just like you predicted, the curse is there. It’s an ugly small and red blob with one eye and just two arms.

“Remember no property damage y/n,” Nanami reminds you.

You pout at the curse in response to your reminder, whilst you also hide your hands behind your back. “So you’ve been causing the trouble huh?” You ask it. “Oh well.”

Without warning the curse lunges at you, but you had already been using your technique to summon the air in the tunnel to your hand. So just before the curse can hit you, you twirl the air around your body before you have it wrap around the curse, so you can then whip it over to Haibara.

The curse isn’t weak so as to go down with your air whip like other small curses who get cut in half and die, so all your action does is weaken it some bit.

When it reaches Haibara, he swings his fist and punches the red curse, decreasing the curses strength, so he makes sure to hit towards Nanami.

When the curse reaches Nanami, he just makes one swift swing with his blade and exorcizes the curse once and for all.

However, you aren’t done yet, there’s still one more left. This one is stronger and smarter, it seems since you don’t know where it hides.

Thus you stand up straight, and have your fire lie beneath the surface of your fingertips, making them glow. You then press your fingers against the train's walls and slowly walk down it, hoping to lure the curse out with your cursed techinque.

Alas it takes a while, the curse is well hidden. It’s not until you reach the end of the train that you’re hit with the strong sense that it’s there, lurking somewhere inside the train?

You face the train wall and squint your gaze, you lift your hand to use your fire, but just before you can expel it out you suddenly freeze as you see a pair of wide red eyes begin to take shape on the train's surface. You want to move, react, but you can’t move a muscle, you can’t breathe, you’re stuck remembering how that one curse trapped in you it’s mirror domain.

The curse takes a clearer shape, it’s green, and its long body slowly gets painted on the train's surface.

“Late, late,” it speaks and opens its mouth as it reaches out for you.

You try to move your body so you can at least step away, but you remain stuck there. You watch it as it drags its body out of the train, and feel your memories race faster in your head, numbing every sense.

“Y/N!” You hear Nanami shout.

You gasp and blink as you snap from your stupor at the sound of your name coming out of your friend's mouth. You then manage to throw your hand up and clutch onto the curses skinny neck. Now rather than surprise, along with the fear, you fill with rage, causing a firemade snake to slither out of your palm and wrap around the curses head, before it opens its jaw and sinks its fire made fangs in the curses flesh.

Since your action was sudden and unexpected, born out of fear and anger, you jump back and make the fire-made snake disappear.

The curse swings its claw at you, and tries to float to you, but it stops as it then starts sweating profusely and smoke begins to come out of its head. Instead it begins to claw at its body and looks more confused. But that’s only for a bit because it then looks at you and once again tries to lunge you.

However, this time before you can react, or before it can get you a fist goes through its head, bringing it to a quick stop. You look to your side and find relief in seeing Haibara.

He shoots you a small assuring smile before he pulls his fist out of the curse, causing it to explode and then die.

“Haibara,” you breathe out before you hug him. “Thank you. You saved me.”

Your friend pats your back. “It was a team effort,” he says. “Plus I think you did most of the work, the inside of that thing was hot.”

You pull back and face him to nod. “Yes. It’s an ability I haven’t been able to fully manifest, it only comes out when I’m scared, or angry, sometimes. It’s a fire-made snake; with a single bite it can start to eat away at someone or something's cursed energy while it also boils their blood.”

Haibara looks at you with surprise. “Well that’s impressive.”

You step back and shrug. “I suppose.” You turn and face Nanami as he puts away his blade now that you’re officially done. “I’m sorry, I faltered.”

Nanami lifts his eyes and meets your gaze. “Don’t worry about it,” he assures you, or at least that’s how you understand him to be. “You’re uninjured and the curses are excorized…We’re done here, let’s go get some tapioca drinks before we go home.”

You smile softly and nod in agreement. He’s not one for friendly affection like Haibara or Shoko, but he’s not some emotionless robot either, he cares, he just disguises it by acting all nonchalant most of the time.

“Yay!” You exclaim and feel at ease now.

You proceed to grab Haibara’s arm as you begin to head out. And on your way out of the station you take your phone out and text Suguru first. Usually the first person you text after a mission is Satoru since he tells you to let him know once you’re finished, just so he can know. But this time you forget all about him.

You: Getting some Tapioca drinks on our way home, want one? My treat :)

A few minutes pass and your phone gets an alert, so you quickly check and smile as you see his name. Or the name you put for him. Ha.

Sugar: Sure. I'm fine with what you get. Thanks

You: ;) will be home soon….let’s meet in my room? Can you?

You don’t close your phone this time, you wait anxiously, and feel as if time seems to move slowly. Which is quite painful, but a message then pops in.

Sugar: I can make that work :)

You press your phone against your lips and smile gleefully.

The rest of the way home is a restless one, one message from one person completely got you excited, and awoke a new gush of energy that had been previously drained in that small mission. Once you get past the school barriers you particularly run to your dorm, hoping that Suguru did get to do as you asked, and also hoping that Satoru didn’t run into him. Or doesn’t run into you.

What if your brother is waiting outside your room? Even worse, what if Suguru was waiting in your room and Satoru barged in to wait for you in your room, because he likes to do that shit! He just goes into your room without warning just to annoy you.

Fuck. With that in mind now you actually run. Luckily when you enter your hall the only one you see outside your door is Suguru.

The moment he notices you he pushes himself away from the wall he was leaning on, and slowly begins to smile at you as he watches you walk towards him.

“Hey, you’re here,” you greet him with relief and out of breath.

“I did say, didn't I?” He says.

You offer him a wider smile and once you’re before him the first thing you do is press a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Here,” you interject and hand him his drink. “Your drink, as promised.”

Suguru carefully takes the cup and looks at you with his eyebrows slightly knitted in confusion. “Did you run here?” He asks.

You smirk and turn to open your door. “I was excited to see you.” You flash him a sly grin before you walk in your room. “No, I mean I was excited to see you,” you explain yourself while you walk to the entrance of your room and begin to kick off your boots. “But actually I had this sudden fear that Satoru had found you here.” You giggle nervously. “So I ran.”

Suguru closes the door after him as he hums in comprehension. “I think he went out,” he says. “But that was a while ago. I don’t know. We should be okay though, I just told him to text me when he got home.”

You struggle to take off your left boot, so you put all your force on kicking it off. So when it does pop off you stumble back. Thankfully Suguru is quick and casually catches you, and pushes you back up.

“Thanks, nice catch!” You compliment him before you take his hand, since he quickly slipped off his own shoes, and pull him over to sit on the edge of your bed. “Anyway, sorry am I cutting in between your bromance?” You tease Suguru while you place your drink down on the nightstand. “You can go to him if you want. Wouldn't want you to get all gloomy because you haven’t seen him.”

Suguru scoffs softly and puts his own cup down on the floor after he takes a big drink. “I see him all the time,” he rebuttals. “We’ll be okay.”

You grin and lay on your bed with your legs leaning against the wall and your head hanging off the edge of your bed. Whilst Suguru just leans back on your bed.

“How was your mission?” He asks.

You sigh. “It was short,” you let him know as you rest your hands on your chest. “Not much to it. But I did…” you hesitate and look up at the ceiling. “Freeze up when a curse came out from hiding.” You weren’t going to share your lack of strength and bravery, you want him to just know that you’re okay, that you’re doing better. But you then think about it, and how will this relationship work if you don’t talk about the bad and the good?

You’re not new at this relationship thing. You’ve had a boyfriend before, so it’s because of that past experience that you want a relationship where you can communicate, where you can have that trust in each other to share what pains you, just the same way you share the good. You want to trust him and you want him to trust you. That won’t work if you don’t share.

“Are you okay?” Suguru asks right away and leans forward to meet your gaze with concern.

You offer him an assuring smile and nod. “Yeah,” you assure him, but pause nonetheless to sit up and face him better. “I managed to counter attack before it could hurt me,” you continue to say. “And then Haibara exorized it.” You the look down, feeling the sudden need to lay your head on his lap.

Thus before you can continue you shift your body and lay on his lap. “Is this okay?” You make sure to ask considering you’re still getting to know each other's boundaries now that you’re dating.

Suguru smiles brightly. “Of course.”

You smile softly and once again rest your hands on your chest. But now albeit, without having to ask, Suguru scoops up one of your hands to gently cup it and caress it. The simple gesture makes your heart skip a beat and causes you to smile bashfully.

“You just need to breathe,” Suguru tells you as he drifts the conversation back to what you were speaking about. “Remember that you’re not there anymore. You’re safe. When you’re out on missions you can’t afford to take a minute to do much, but just breathe okay? Exhale. Tell yourself once that you aren’t in danger anymore.”

Your smile completely falls and you can’t help your eyes from watering. “And if…I can’t do it?” You share shakily. “If I can’t recollect myself and something gets me? Or worse it ends up hurting Haibara or Nanami? I don’t want to be a burden or the cause of either of their deaths.”

Suguru shakes his head. “That won’t happen,” he says softly. “Because you won’t let it happen. Because you’re strong, because you don’t want to feel that grief, or have them suffer the way you did. That’s why it won’t happen, that’s why you’ll fight through your fear….and as to you. Nanami or Haibara won’t let you get hurt, Satoru would never let you get hurt. I won’t ever let you get hurt or taken again. Never again.”

Your breath catches, and the corner of your lips tug upward to show a soft smile. Suguru lets your hand go to caress your cheek as he offers you a kind smile. You hold his gaze for a moment with awe and gratitude, but only for a moment because you then can’t help yourself or your desire. You sit up and wrap your arms around his neck to embrace him. To feel his warmth, and bask in how safe he makes you feel.

Suguru wraps his arm around you and presses a kiss on the top of your head, making you tilt your head up to meet his soft, but dark eyes that seem to gleam with happiness. You could get lost in them, you almost do, but you then glance down at what you desire before you steal a short kiss from his soft lips.

He smiles softly and caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks again.

You flash him a bigger smile and nod. “I’m feeling better now.” You then grin and kiss him again.

This time Suguru makes sure to kiss you back, he’s gentle and slow. At first. Through your racing hearts, and caution to make sure the other one was fine with what was going on, Suguru intensifies the kiss like a fuel to a fire; he burns hotter with desire. He parts your lips slowly with his tongue, making your breath hitch, and your racing heart to then pang against your chest before it feels like it just stops.

What is going on you wonder?

You don’t stop, no you can’t, you don’t want to either. You’re entranced by this…this burning heat, by the taste of his mouth, by his nice smell that clings onto every perimeter of him.

Your friends teased you before, but it’s only now that you’re actually giving into a passion they thought they walked into. It’s now, at this moment, that you feel sparks going off. You feel fucking ecstatic, everything is rushing inside you now. Your blood, your heart, your burning desire.

You try to match his heat, you hold onto him tighter and can’t help but slide over to sit on his lap. Suguru pulls back and cups your cheeks. You're afraid he’s going to stop, but he just catches his breath and pulls you in for more.

Time ceases to exist after that, some time passes but you don’t actually pay attention to anything else but Suguru, until you both just end up laying on your bed with you clung around him, and your head snuggled against his neck.

Sure there will be other moments in your relationship that will contradict you, but that doesn’t matter right now because at this very moment you haven’t felt more alive than right now with Suguru.

“You’re very warm,” Suguru points out.

You smile lazily. “It’s a me thing,” you mutter against him. “Albeit I wish it actually worked to keep me warm. I’d never have to wear so many layers.”

“It’s a good thing you know how to wear all those layers.” He says.

You laugh softly. “Don’t feed into my ego. It’s already big enough,” you interject. “Now why don’t we do this again sometime?”

“I can later?” Suguru suggests. “At night. Tomorrow Satoru and I will be gone all day.”

“That works for me,” you whisper. “We can watch a movie too. Eat some ramen.”

“Sounds like a date. I’ll bring the ramen.” He chuckles.

You smile and close your eyes just to rest them. “How romantic,” you mumble.

“Oh, and you provide the candlelight, only you don’t need candles you can just use you.” Suguru teases, making you laugh dryly.

“You’re a comedian now?” You grumble.

He laughs, and you just roll your eyes. You proceed to stay quiet and take advantage of how he makes you feel to sleep without worry.

However you do hear his camera click and you end up opening your eyes before you tilt your head up to look at him.

“Did you just take a picture?” You ask softly with a growing smile.

“Yeah,” he mumbles and looks down at you. “Look.” He tilts his phone down to show you the picture he just took of you embracing him with your eyes closed, and him smiling as he rests his chin on the top of your head.

“That’s so cute!” You exclaim and lift your hand to click the options button to make it his wallpaper. “Cuter. Now you’ll have me everywhere you go.” You snicker.

Suguru laughs softly and then asks, “do you want me to send it to you?”

Before you can answer, your door shakes, before there he is. “Hey, why is it locked? open up!”

Suguru and you both shoot up in a panic and share a horrified look as your hearts sink and your stomachs twist.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whisper and almost throw yourself out of your bed. “Just hold on!” You yell out at Satoru, who once again tries to open the door.

Suguru tip toes over to grab his shoes, and you quickly but quietly rush to the window to open it for Suguru to escape out of.

The door shakes again and your heart skips a beat. Why is he so fucking desprate to get in?!

Suguru doesn’t even put his shoes on, he holds them and rushes to the window. You help speed the progress and push him out, catching Shoko outside her room with a cigarette in her hand. She looks between Suguru and you with no reaction, until she breaks into laughter.

You don’t even react, you quickly pull back in your room, shut the window and then run over to open the door for your brother.

“What took you so long?” He asks as he just welcomes himself in.

“I was sleeping,” you just say the first thing that comes to mind.

Satoru kicks his shoes off and the first thing he does is sit on your bed and pick up your drink from the nightstand. “Oh, Tapioca!” He exclaims and takes a big drink from your cup, causing your eyes to widen as you notice Suguru’s cup still on the floor.

Fuck. Fuck!

You run over and sit on your bed, making sure to cover the cup behind your legs as your brother finishes your drink in one go before he throws himself on your bed.

“Need something?” You ask as you try to play off your nervousness.

Satoru shakes his head stiffly. “Nope. Hey, were you talking to someone just now?” He asks, making you stiffen. “I swear I heard a voice.”

Damn.

“Nope!” You exclaim. “No. Well Shoko…on the phone.”

Satoru snorts. “Why don’t you just hang out like normal people? I swear, it’s a miracle you guys don’t talk on the phone while you’re next to each other.”

You feign a laugh and carefully take the cup behind your legs to tuck it under your bed.

“Have you seen Suguru?” Satoru asks and makes your breath catch.

It’s a good thing he’s looking up or else he definitely would have caught your reaction and known something was up.

“No,” you try to act normal. “Nope, why?”

“Because I haven’t seen him,” he says.

You shrug nonchalantly and lean back on your bed. “If it bothers you, then text him.”

Satoru stays quiet for a moment before he suddenly sits up and whips out his phone. “That’s right!” He exclaims. “He told me to text him.” He turns his phone on and you see him manage to swiftly find Suguru’s contact—“Let’s do that now.” He says.

You try to peek, but he lays back down and moves his hands in a way where you can’t see what he’s typing. Damn!

“Anyway, I’m bored!” He adds after he’s done texting, and throws himself back on the bed. “We should go do something. Are you hungry?”

You lay back beside him and watch the ceiling above your head.

Of course he just came to bother you. You really need to set up boundaries now.

“Sure,” you go along with him not just because you are hungry, but because he already barged and ruined your day with Suguru, so why the hell not. “Sushi? Or?” You ask and tilt your head down to face him

“Yeah,” he says and tilts his head to the side to meet your gaze behind his shades. “I’m down for sushi.”

Shit. At the mere sight of him in this position, you remember your childhood and the way you’d lay down on his bed just like this when you were a scared little girl. And because of that gentle memory you then feel something pang in your chest, hard. It aches in a terrible way. But what is it?

You can’t identify it yet, it’s not clear, but it aches when you look at him. Especially when you’re laying down like this.

Thus you get up and quickly make sure to be on your way. You try to distract yourself from that aching feeling, but it gnaws at you. It keeps you quiet as you walk out of the school grounds just the two of you.

“So how was your mission?” Your brother breaks the silence you couldn’t seem to break. Because everytime you wanted to say something a…lump crawled to your throat, and your stomach twisted, making you nauseous.

“It was okay,” you give him a simple answer, a bit too dry for your liking. “Short, thankfully.”

“Yeah?” He asks. “You didn’t text me after,” he points out.

Shit! That’s right!

You clench your fists and mentally groan. It only comes to you now that you were supposed to text him. Shit.

“You do okay? You didn’t have trouble?” He probes before from the corner of your eye you catch him tilting his head down your way.

You swallow back nervously and answer. “Some, but I'm okay.”

Satoru turns his head to look at you better. “Yeah?” He queries with concern.

You look over and meet his gaze to smile and nod. “Yeah.”

This is when it hits you, as you’re looking at his face, answering a question he asked with genuine concern. It’s guilt. That gnawing, that ache. It’s fucking guilt that you feel for lying.

How can you keep lying to him?

No, not lying, hiding the truth. How long can you keep that up?

He who you care for most in this world. He can be annoying, bratty and he pisses you off a lot of the time, but he’s still your brother, he’s your family, the only one who actually cares about you; the only one who ever cared.

After your parents had him, you were a surprise they didn’t want but came to terms with. So you were never their priority, Satoru made you his priority. He and your caretaker Belinda are the only ones who are really ingrained in your brain as good parts of your childhood. Your parents are marked in your brain because they’re bad memories you’ll never be able to get rid of.

So how can you hide the fact that you’re dating Suguru from your brother?

You think of that question all the way to the restaurant. You keep up short conversations, but that question doesn’t leave your mind, or let’s you be yourself.

“Hey,” Satoru snaps you from your stupor whilst he also pokes your hand with his chopstick. “You’ve been unusually quiet,” Satoru continues. “Did something happen? Did Yaga piss you off? Or did you drink too much Tapioca?”

You laugh breathlessly and shake your head. “No, and you drank all my Tapioca.”

Satoru snickers. “Yeah it was good.”

You roll your eyes playfully and then look down at your plate to take your chopsticks off the table. You continue to stay quiet, but this time you begin to debate whether to tell him now or not. He doesn’t look mad, he doesn’t sound it either, it’s just the two of you, so it would be a good chance.

But Suguru isn’t here, you haven’t even let him know that you’re going to tell Satoru. You agreed to tell him together.

But can you really wait a moment longer?

“They’re going to have a rerun of Fight Club next week at the theater near here,” Satoru mentions. “We should go watch it.”

You take a bite from your piece of sushi and glance at him to nod. “Yeah. That sounds cool.” You then glance back at your food and chew what’s in your mouth slowly before you bring up something else.

“Oh, the firemade snake came out today.”

Satoru looks up and raises his eyebrow. “Really? That’s cool, but you need to stop naming it that. Think of calling it something, like…” he trails off to think. “Well…I’ll have to think about that, but something definitely scary. Too bad your name is already taken by you.” He smirks at you.

You feign a laugh and because of his comment you reach over and steal a piece of his sushi. He tries to fight you off with his chopsticks but you lean over and shove it in your mouth. As you sit back you smile at him proudly, but that comes to a quick end as you can’t stop feeling or thinking of your fucking guilt.

“What’s up?” Satoru surprises you by saying. “You’ve been off since we left school.”

Satoru Gojo has never been good at reading people, he spent his life being spoiled and getting looked over, so reading other people’s emotions is one thing he isn’t good at. Albeit you’re the exception, ever since you can remember he’s always known how to read you. He knows when you’re angry, happy. He knows how to make you laugh when you’re upset, he tries to help in the best way he can. He was—is like a third parent after all, so he knows how to read you.

Still he always seems to catch you off guard when he notices if you’re upset. Even more so now.

“I…” you trail off and swallow thickly. You avert your gaze and begin to tap the chopsticks on the plate. “Well….you need to promise you won’t get mad. At anyone.” You slowly lift your gaze and see him begin to look at you confused.

“I can’t swear that, especially when there’s more people involved—”

“Satoru, please,” you cut him off.

Your brother sits back and takes his shades off before he crosses his arms over his chest. “Fine,” he grumbles.

You don’t believe him but you continue to try and finally share the truth. However, you do end up taking some time, which makes your brother impatient.

“Spit it out already.”

Suguru and you wanted to tell him together but you can’t hold back, and maybe this will go over easier if you tell Satoru alone first.

“Su…” you interlace your hands together and slowly meet his blue eyes. “Suguru and I are dating…”

For the first time ever you see Satoru freeze, he doesn’t part his lips, he doesn’t move his arms or blink, he just stares at you blankly. And that only makes you insanely more nervous, but at least now that guilt filled weight that was over your chest is finally off. Yet it still feels like you need to puke.

“Satoru,” you whisper and lean over the table.

Said man finally blinks and slowly unfolds his arms from his chest. He continues to remain quiet and instead he slowly begins to clench his jaw and narrow his gaze to a glare.

“Really?” He whispers and drops his head. “In front of my sushi too…damn.” He rubs his face before he lifts his head and looks at you with that narrowed glare. “I thought I told you he was off limits,” he finally breaks his silence.

Fuck. Your eyes are beginning to sting, you don’t like when he's upset at you.

“I know,” you mutter and sit back to grab the edge of your seat. “But I don’t know…he just snuck up on me…and when he saved me that day I don’t know…something changed.”

“Then it’s just gratitude?” Satoru counters in an upset tone. “That’s all it is. You’re just grateful that he saved you. It won’t work—”

“Satoru,” you cut him off in your defense. “It’s not gratitude, I mean I’m thankful, but there’s so much more as to why I like him. He…he’s kind, he makes me feel safe—”

“I make you feel safe,” Satoru interjects and leans over as he points at himself. “You don’t need him.”

“But you’re my brother, it's different!” You exclaim so you can get your word across. “You’re not going to be with me forever. I want to have a life outside of just killing curses, I don’t want to be lonely, and he fills that void.”

“You’re not alone,” Satoru argues. “You have me, Shoko, Nanami, Haibara.”

You shake your head. “That’s not the same, and you know it,” you don’t give up. “Satoru, he’s good to me, you don’t need to worry, he…” you pause and smile. “He’s like a light. I don’t know if you’ll understand, but he’s like the sun. I didn’t know I had been living in the dark until the day everything shifted with me and him. After that I was no longer in the shadows.”

Satoru sighs deeply and shares a disgusted expression before he props his elbows on the table to drop his head on his hands.

“I’m sorry,” you interject softly. “I know I shouldn’t have, I know you’re mad. You have every right to be…” you trail off and just watch him and let him take his time.

However, he doesn’t need time, it seems he’s gathered all his thoughts. He just doesn’t face you, he drops one arm back to his side and continues to rest his head on the other hand. “You know what this means right?” He asks quietly.

You shake your head. “No,” you whisper.

“That if something happens I’d side with you,” he shares, catching you off guard and making you freeze now.

It was expected, but it’s still a surprise. Something you also don’t want.

“No,” you argue. “I won’t ever ask you to pick sides. He’s your best friend.”

“And you're my sister,” he adds and finally tilts his head up to look at you, making you sit up straight and blink away your tears—“It’s my job to look out for you even when it comes to my friends,” he says. “I’m just looking out for you, y/n. It’s not that I don’t trust Suguru, because I do. More than anyone, but,” he sighs. “I wanted to keep my friends and my family separate for many reasons.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble with tears filling your eyes.

“I’m not mad,” he shares softly. “I’m more mad at myself that I didn’t see it.”

Tears break out of your eyes and crawl down your cheeks. “If you don’t approve, Satoru, I will end things. What you think matters to me,” you admit shakily.

Satoru lifts his head off his chin, and his anger falls but is replaced by a frown. “I can’t do that to you,” he says softly. “If he—god. If he makes you happy then I’ll approve. I won’t resent you or Suguru, just…give me some time to get used to it. So don’t be, I don’t know, lovey dovey together around me.”

You let out a sigh of relief and lean over to take your hand in his. “You mean it?” You make sure.

Satoru sighs and nods stiffly. “Sure.”

More tears stream down your face, but this time they're tears of relief and happiness.

“Please don’t cry,” he grumbles. “That's so weird. People are gonna think I did something to you.”

You can’t help your excitement and basically jump out of your seat to go embrace him. “Thank you,” you whisper. “I love you.”

Satoru lets you hug him for a moment, but he then pulls out of the embrace. “Okay that’s enough. Now let’s go home. I need to talk to Suguru.”

You swallow back nervously and don’t argue, you finish what remains of your food, with some tension now, but quickly finish before heading out. And again you feel nauseous, that’s something that hasn't left, especially now that Satoru is going to speak with Suguru.

You: I told Satoru about us by the way, I couldn’t keep it in, sorry

You close your phone and wait impatiently while you make your way back home in front of your brother. Luckily, Suguru doesn’t take long to respond.

Sugar: oh…well that’s okay. How did he take it?

You quickly text back.

You: He says he’s not mad, but he is upset. I think we just caught him by surprise. He approved though, he wants to talk to you.

While you wait you then text Shoko. You need your girlfriend to gossip with, and well to spy with too. Satoru won’t let you listen in when he talks with his best friend, so you’ll listen in from afar!

You to Shoko: Told Satoru about Suguru and I, we’re on our way home and he’s going to talk to Suguru. Be ready.

As you send that, Suguru texts you back.

Sugar: I expected that much. Well you better wish me luck.

You laugh softly.

You: Oh I’m sure you’ll win.

Shoko texts you back quickly, so you send Suguru his message and read the next.

Shoko: I've been ready. I’ll meet you halfway through the entrance.

You: alright!

Suguru then sends you back a message so you click it quickly.

Sugar: I’m not fighting your brother, he does get a bit hard headed though so let’s hope he doesn’t make things difficult.

You: Yeah, true. Well you know how to talk to him so I’m sure you’ll handle it. If anything happens though just text me.

It seems that Suguru was waiting on his phone because he’s fast with his replies now.

Sugar: I will…you’ll be worth it though

You smile all giddily and quickly type back.

You: You sweet talking me?

Sugar: :)

You grin.

You: Damn you’re making me impatient for later. That’s still happening yeah?

Sugar: Of course. What movie?

You: Any…not like I’ll watch it though.

Sugar: elaborate

You: you know what I mean ;)

Sugar: I want you tell me

Your face burns at his message, and your heart begins to skip a beat.

You: Well you know what? I like the thought of you thinking about it

You smirk and leave it at that as you approach home. And of course as expected when you finally pass the entrance Suguru is already waiting for the both of you.

You would smile but Satoru isn’t in the best mood, it’ll only upset him more, so you just wave at Suguru before you just leave them behind. You don’t even look back, you pick up your pace and without fault Shoko is already where she said she’d be with a smirk on her face, and a cigarette in her mouth.

“So Juliet,” she teases. “How’d it go? You going to drink poison or?”

You roll your eyes and pull the cigarette out of her mouth. “You’re going to give us away. And no!” You laugh. “He said he approved, he just needs to come to terms with it.”

Shoko scoffs. “He acts like Suguru is his ex or something.” She giggles. “Get over what? He needs to get over himself. You’re almost an adult, you can make your own decisions.”

You hook your arm around hers and shrug whilst you walk into the woods to follow the path so as to not get seen by Suguru or Satoru. “I know, but he’s just being protective, that's all.”

Shoko sighs. “I suppose that’s true.”

Since you didn’t wander far, you spot Suguru and Satoru quickly; they’re sitting down on a bench and talking too quietly.

“Let’s get closer,” you whisper and try to step forward, but Shoko grabs your hand and pulls you back.

“Do you want to get caught? Satoru has six eyes, remember? Just use your technique or something?”

You shoot her a pointed look and scoff. “My technique doesn’t work like that. Why don’t you heal me so I can listen better, huh?”

Shoko playfully pushes you before she rebuttals. “Mine doesn’t work like that either. I guess we’re just shit out of luck.”

You pout and throw your arms around her to pout harder. “I just want to hear what they’re saying,” you whine.

Shoko grabs your hands and begins to drag you back towards the dorms without much of a fight. “Just ask your boyfriend later.”

You wait for that later and it doesn’t come until a few hours later. Actually that’s the first thing you ask him when he comes into your room.

“What did Satoru say?”

Suguru lets you pull him in your room, and chuckles softly. “Oh yeah I'm excited to see you too.”

“I saw you earlier,” you quickly brush him off. “Tell me, my nerves have been killing me!” You exclaim while you sit Suguru down next to you and wait.

“He just told me that if it comes to it that he’d pick you,” he shares. “Which I said I understood.”

“Uhuh.”

“And he threatened me—”

You roll your eyes and cut him off. “Empty threats,” you assure him.

“He…” Suguru pauses and meets your gaze with a soft smile. “He said that he trusts me regardless if he’s upset that I’m dating you. And that if it did have to be anyone here, he’s glad it was me.”

You slowly grin and hug Suguru. “That’s good! I'm happy.”

Suguru holds your arms and kisses the top of your head. “He still is mad though, so tomorrow should be fun.” He sighs.

“He’ll get over it,” you assure him. “He loves you too much to stay mad.” You let him know and rest your chin on his shoulder. “I’m happy that he approved. That he said those things to you.”

“Me too,” he says softly before he kisses you on your lips. “Now why don’t we get the water heated, and the movie started.”

“Someone’s eager,” you tease him as you pull away.

“Well you did leave me wondering,” he rebuttals. “I’m curious to know.”

You approach the kettle and turn it on before you look back. “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”

Suguru smiles wider and gets off the bed to close the gap between you by wrapping his arms around your neck and kissing you. You turn around and wrap your arms around him to beam at him as you let him kiss you.

Once again you’ve never felt more alive than now, with him.

——

*A COUPLE MONTHS LATER. SPRING*

“Next, the explosion that occurred in Hamamatsu, Shizuoka. Our reporter on the site says it was caused because degradation of gas pipes caused an explosion. Let’s hear from him…”

“That’s where Suguru, Satoru and Shoko went,” you point to the tv as you pick up a piece of food from your plate to take a bite.

“How much do you want to bet they forgot they’re veil,” Nanami points out while he picks up his drink off the table to take a sip

You snicker and shake your head. “I won’t bet because I know for a fact that they did,” you say. “As to who?”

“Satoru,” Nanami, Haibara, and you name at the same, knowing exactly how your brother was.

“Well expect Yaga to be in a grumpy mood,” Nanami says.

You roll your sleeve up and show off the red dragon mark on your right arm that you managed to fully manifest. It took a lot of patience and work, but with help from your learning you managed to have a red dragon wrap around your arm. Now you can tap into it to use your fire technique, which has already proved to be easier and useful!

Albeit it does look like a tattoo so it’s not welcomed in the mundane non-sorcerer eyes. Which sucks ass.

“Do you want to get in trouble,” Nanami scolds you and rolls your sleeve back down.

You groan and pout in defeat. “It’s getting hot wearing sleeves all day,” you complain. “I need to take off my sleeves.”

Nanami sighs. “Well you’ll have to deal with it because you can’t be waving that thing around non-sorcerers,” he spats.

“They’ll think you’re a part of some gang,” Haibara whispers.

You grab your drink and take a long sip. “I basically am.” You say after you swallow.

“What about wraps?” Haibara suggests. “You can wrap your marked arm after missions.”

You meet his gaze across the table and smile. “Yeah, that’d work too. I mean it’d be very repetitive but it would work. Thanks Haibara.” You smile at him.

Said man mirrors your smile. “Of course,” he says.

You then take another bite of your food before you cross your leg over the other and sit back on the chair, causing your long white skirt that you customized to your uniform, to get stuck in between your legs since it does have long slits down the sides, (making it easier for you to move without having to be restricted by a tight skirt!). And since you wear a tight black jumpsuit you unfortunately don’t show any skin, you just get hot now that the weather is getting warmer.

“Anyway,” you interject with a smile. “Can we go shopping after breakfast? There’s some cute clothes I want to get.”

“No,” Nanami answers before Haibara could think of it. “Go alone.”

You groan. “Going alone is so boring! And you guys are already here! Please Nanamin!” You beg and lean over to grab his arm. “Just like an hour?”

Nanami shakes his head. “We went with you last week. we’re going home. All of us, unless you want to go alone.”

Tsk.

You sit back and just pout in defeat. After all there's no way you’re going alone. Unless!

You to Shoko: Shopping me and you, baby? I’m around the store already, I’ll meet you here?

Only a few seconds pass and she answers back.

Shoko: I would love to baby, but thanks to your brother we all got in trouble, so we can’t go out. Only for missions :(

There’s no point asking Suguru either. What a bummer!

You to Sugar: On my way home. :(

You finish the rest of your meal and get an answer back.

Sugar: Why the frown?

You: Cause I have no one to go shopping with, the guys don’t want to, and Shoko and you are in trouble!

You chug the rest of your drink, and get an answer back in the meanwhile.

Sugar: Oh damn that’s rough :(

You scoff.

You: You suck. Texting Naoya Zen’in rn! Maybe he can go shopping with me.

This time you get Suguru to call you. He says he’s not the jealous type, but he always calls or texts back immediately when you make comments like those.

“Helloo!” You greet happily as you get off your seat with the guys trailing behind you. “What is it?”

“Where are you?” Suguru asks.

You chuckle. “Leaving breakfast. We’re on our way home. Why? Jealous, Sugar?” You tease him.

Suguru scoffs. “Good luck with your boy toy.”

You giggle. “Ahah, so you are jealous. That’s better than shopping. You made my day.”

You hear Suguru laugh softly, but you also hear Satoru complaining in the background. Typical.

“Cut her off already. You see each other everyday!”

You roll your eyes and ignore your brother's comment. “I’d ask you about today,” you say. “But I’d rather wait until I see you, however I did hear you guys got in trouble.”

“Yeah,” Suguru scoffs. “Thanks to your brother. Now we can’t go out until next week.”

You smile at the phone. “Damn that’s rough,” you remark teasingly.

“Tsk.”

“Do you want anything while i'm out?” You ask as your assigned assistant manager approaches with the car.

“No,” Suguru answers. “I'm fine. Thanks. So are you going shopping?”

You groan. “No. I don’t want to go alone. I’m going home. Sad. In need of comfort.”

Suguru chuckles. “Well, I’ll be here waiting for you then,” he assures you. “I’m going to the gym with your brother and Shoko. Come when you get home. We can start our training session after, yeah?”

You nod even if he can’t see. “Yeah that sounds good. I’ll see you then. Bye-bye, I…” you pause as you almost let out those three infamous words.

It’s not that you don’t mean them, you do with every fiber in your body, it’s just, perhaps it’s too soon?

“I’ll see you in a bit,” you say instead.

Suguru sighs softly but agrees softly. “Yep, goodbye, Firefly.”

“Tsk.” You complain, and hear him laugh before he ends the call.

Would it be too soon? What if he thinks it is and doesn’t return it?

That’d be terrible….but should you risk it? So he knows how you feel now?

.

.

.

.

.

[carrionhearted]

HIII I hope you don’t mind me answering this over here @seagull-spouse :3 To anyone else reading this, If you’re squeamish, this may not be a fun read… so be warned!! I’m no expert of course, just an autistic little freak with a special interest in dead things, so this is just what works for me!

My top 2 de-fleshing methods are: Maceration, and… bugs.

Maceration is ye’ ole bucket of water + dead thing soup basically, creates a home for helpful bacteria to chew the flesh into goop! Ideally it’ll slough off the bones naturally with time, though some stubborn bits may need to be removed manually. It’s a very stinky and very goopy method. It takes a long time unless you live in a consistently warm environment, or are using an aquarium heater to keep your soup warm (I reccomend a MAX of 85 degrees Celsius, DO NOT BOIL THE BONES, it’ll bake the grease into them forever and ever. Greasy oily yellow bones are very yuck). The only times I manually carve off flesh preemptively are when I’m macerating something large— like a deer skull!

I personally prefer the “bugs”/ “let nature do it” method. Find a nice patch of soft damp soil to place your dead thing on (it’s gotta be in direct contact with the soil), then cover it with something like chicken wire, or a wire garbage can, or one of those inner plant pots with drainage holes— some sort of barrier that bugs can crawl in through, but big critters can’t. Then cover it with an opaque tarp or a black garbage bag, leaf litter even— something that blocks out the light and keeps in the moisture. Then weigh the edges down with heavy rocks so no big scavengers can steal your goods! This dark damp n soil-y environment creates a bug paradise basically, they can get in through the wire holes/ up through the dirt, and FEAST all throughout the day (they like to work in darknesss)! I like to check progress every week or so, but they work pretty fast— and leave some pretty clean bones. You may have to use warm water to pry off some stubborn bits of flesh, but beyond that… this method is pretty hands off and tidy. Hope you don’t mind bugs and mold though.

That being said, whenever possible, I like to preserve more than just the bones. Small animals (IF FRESH) can be dry-preserved in bits and pieces— things like rabbits feet, bird wings, bird claws, other rodent limbs, you get the idea. This is where “taking apart” the animal becomes a concern— your best tool is anatomical knowledge. When severing off bits, you wanna go for the joint— so know what you’re looking for, feel around to find it and cut right in between the socket. Pocket knives and tiny surgical scissors are my go to tools. Once you’ve got your bits isolated, submerge them in a mixture of 1 part salt, 1 part borax— in a container that you can close off and keep somewhere room temperature and dry. If you don’t have borax, you could use 100% salt *OR* cornmeal for really small specimens— but it’s a bit riskier. Borax also helps clear up funky death smells. Make sure anything you put in is fully submerged, and remember the position you put it in will be its forever position! Wait time depends on what exactly you’re preserving— something like teensy birds feet may only take a week, whereas rabbits feet/ raccoon paws could take months! You can check on it throughout the process. You’ll know it’s done when it’s totally firm and dry, and relatively odourless.

Also ok. What I’m about to say may be frightening. But Reddit is a very good info resource for this stuff. The bonecollecting, vultureculture and boneID communities are actually really useful! OK RAMBLE OVER for now EXCUSE THE INFODUMP I like bones

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

I’m not pretty sure how I will get depressive reader into smutty or dark but imagine Eddie praising depressive reader when they clean her apartment

She is slow, walking in circles but Eddie praises her regardless. He’s already done with the bathroom and kitchen but he’s praising her when she picks up another cup that isn’t supposed to be in her bedroom.

They eventually get the whole apartment clean by night and Eddie reward his girlfriend by a bubble bath

This is cute! Thank you for this wonderful ask, anon! 🌸💕

Content Warning: hurt with comfort, Eddie fluff, depressed!reader

The early spring sun already hung low in the sky as you let your eyes roam around your utterly messy bedroom.

Although you and your boyfriend came rather far with decluttering your depression-ridden flat, the sight in front of you wasn't exactly raising the spirits. Your entire nightstand was cramped with more or less empty coffee mugs, chocolate wrappers scattered in between. The bed messy from sleepless tossing and turning.

"Well, here we go.." You sighed under your breath, trying your best to remind yourself that this room posed the last lap to finish this race against yourself, against your last depressive episode that, without a doubt, hit hard.

With slow steps, you walked towards the edge of your bed. The crumpled sheets in front of your body emitting an unwelcoming, almost distressing atmosphere. While you were eyeing your twisted duvets, you remembered just how damn painful it was to simply get out of bed today. With each morning passing it gradually grew into more of a struggle over the past weeks and if it hadn't been for Ed's you were certain that you wouldn't have left it at all today.

With a stern knock on your door he not exactly forced you but lovingly pushed you to eventually get up. To wipe your tangled, admittedly greasy hair out of your sleep deprived, bloodshot eyes and stand up on your feet.

The feeling of the frizzy, grey carpet floor underneath your toes was almost overstimulating to your sore senses. Yet the two of you worked up to a squeaky clean bathroom and a tidy kitchen. Well, to be fair most of that had been Eddie, who rushed relentlessly between dirty dishes and the bin.

The two of you had been together for a while now and it certainly wasn't the first episode of yours he witnessed. Nonetheless, you felt guilty for having him help with your problems again. To you it felt like this shouldn't be his burden to carry, quite literally not his mess to clean up.

And yet you couldn't stand a chance to simply let him help.

Inhaling another deep breath, you grabbed the duvet, pulled the corners towards you and folded it , pressing the edge down nice and neatly. Next up the the pillows. Those two sad piles were in desperate need of a good shake.

After a faint rush of excitement over having your bed made for the first time in a good while, that gnarly voice from the far back of your head doubled down on you. Nagging you how none of that meant anything because it would be just another mess to sort out tomorrow again.

You felt it weighing you down physically and you couldn't help yourself but to sink down, losing your composure as you faced the still chaotic nightstand of yours. So many cups that would require more than one trip to the sink that Ed's had cleaned so eagerly hours ago.

"No, No, NO!" You tried to push the voice back to where it came from, reaching out to grab the first cup.

Your fingers enclosed it tightly and you quickly pulled it close to you as if it was about the slip from your grip if you didn't pay attention enough.

"I'm really proud of you, pumpkin."

Your eyes darted to your open bedroom door. You didn't even notice Eddie approaching you and even less him apparently watching you for a moment.

"Huh?" That's all that left your lips as you looked right at him, rather dumbfounded.

"I'm serious. You doing so good right now." He reciprocated.

'Good' wasn't exactly the word you would've described it with but you still felt a certain flush of warmth flood your chest.

"T-thank you." It rolled off your tongue as your other hand cupped the next cup.

"You know what? How about I pour you a nice, warm bath after we're done here? Do you feel like having one?" A wide grin adored Eddie's lips as he pitched the idea to you.

"Uh uhm...", Your tired thoughts tried to catch up with holding two cups and processing the idea of taking a bath later, "That..yeah, that would be really nice."

"Perfect!", He exclaimed, nodding towards the cups in your hands, "While you get those into the sink, I'll take care of the rest."

[slashingdisneypasta]

For when you want... I thought of something very cursed while closing last night. What would happen if the world of Who Framed Roger Rabbit went through a Dorothy Must Die scenario.

Don't ask me where this came from, I don't even know how it'd work 😭 but what I briefly thought of last night was that, for some reason, the world of toons gets blocked off from humanity (maybe they were considered too dangerous after the story of Theadore Valient got out?). And Doom, instead of trying to enact his plan to replace Toontown with a freeway, decides this is the perfect opportunity to take over and control the toons instead. So basically, Doom is DmD!Dorothy (I did not need the image of Doom in the gingham dress, but my brain went there 😭)

This was mainly imagining the Toon Patrol as the DmD trio, admittedly 😅 being Doom's enforcers and striking fear into the residents of Toontown in this AU. Psycho and Greasy are like Scarecrow, being the two most feared of the patrol for similar and different reasons. Smartass and Stupid could be similar to the Lion, being more on the dumb side, but also not questioning Doom and happy with his position as his seargent. That leaves Wheezy most like Tinman; deep down, he knows that all this is wrong, but he doesn't try to stop Doom or Smartass for his own reasons. They use DIP to scare the citizens into obeying these new laws, but they're far more grusome and dangerous here, just like the trio are in DmD. Can you imagine that bubble gun Tin's soldier used on Indigo, but with DIP?? (Ngl, I've been having fun imaging Greasy as the Scarecrow in particular).

I'm not sure who Amy Gumm would be, probably Eddie if he ever decides to visit the tunnel again or somehow got a job that required him to get close to Toontown and he got captured. Or it could be an original character. But Jessica and Roger are part of the rebellion to take Doom and his patrol down, along with various other characters. They're war torn and traumatized, but they're still kicking.

I have no idea why I thought this, but here you go 😅😅😅😅

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS!! Especially Scarecrow!Greasy, oh my g o d. Let me just- let me just- *gets out copy of Dorothy Must Die, which is heavily sticky-noted and thick from rereads already, and starts reading through all of Scare's bits imagining my favourite weasel* ... would it be crazy of me to write fanfiction of this concept!?? XD

YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME.

The only thing 'cursed' about this is Doom in gingham 🤣🤣🤣 But its all just 👌👌👌 Perfect! This was such a gem to wake up to XDD

I also love Stupid getting a main character part for once!! We too often let him fade into the background and this weighs heavily upon my soul, as I'm sure it does yours 😰Lion!Stupid would be so adorable!! Lion!Stupid developing a particular interest in a servant at the palace; them of course becoming his Favourite. Lion!Stupid struggling between his sexual appetite and his hunger for blood, licking and sucking and tasting his S/O any time that they're intimate; whimpering when they bleed because he got too rough with them; wanting to eat them. He wants to tear them apart and feast on their flesh, feel his teeth sink into their fat. Lion!Stupid feeling curious about this desire- because he loves them, doesn't he?? He doesn't understand. Lion!Stupid going to his good, old, most trustworthy, most intelligent friend Scarecrow!Greasy asking about it. Scarecrow!Greasy saying basically that he doesn't blame him- Stupid is an animal, after all. And that Y/N... is a delicious little morsel~ Do what feels right, Greasy tells him absentmindedly, going back to his work (Greasy never did alot the Lion much of his precious time, anymore, since Dorothy came back. Sometimes Stupid wondered why everything had changed). Follow your excellent, leonine instincts. Lion!Stupid returning to his lovers bed that night and doing exactly as his good comrade told him. Lion!Stupid eating what he loves (Lion!Stupid never losing the perfect taste off his tongue). Tin Woodman!Wheezy giving him a word of advice, later; that old friend of ours is crafty and cruel, Stu. Everything's different, now. 'ts best if ya don't trust any of us.

[bambiraptorx]

Draxum's hands were shaking. Badly, Raph noted, staring at the noticeable tremors in the yokai's hands.

[TW: self-destructive behaviors, eating issues/implied disordered eating]

He'd seen Draxum's hands shake before, back in his own time, when the Hidden City was first discovered by the Kraang and quickly overwhelmed with all the hounds and mechs and zombies they could throw at it, and the Resistance had to declare the ruins unsalvageable, not worth trying to win back.

He'd seen them shake when Casey had returned a month after being declared missing in action (declared dead in all but the use of that word; all M.I.A. meant anymore was that there was no body to bury), not only alive and minimally injured, but hauling a four-month-old baby in a makeshift sling.

He'd seen them shake when he'd woken up from an artificial, anesthesia-induced slumber, a grey, lonely night with no stars, to see the face of the man who'd had to amputate his hand and tell him, "you barely survived as it is, Raphael," a heavy guilt weighing down his shoulders and carving new lines into his face.

He didn't know why they were shaking now. He focused on the vials Draxum held, ingredients for some chemical or other he needed to synthesize, seemingly vibrating as a result of the trembling hands that held them. Was it exhaustion? When did Draxum start working today?

When was the last time he had a meal?

Raph voiced his thoughts.

"I'm not hungry," came the answer, not enough in and of itself to give Raph what he needed to know, if not for everything he knew about the person Draxum was. Is. Would one day be?

"Draxum. That's not what I asked you." Raph reached out hesitantly, ready to withdraw his hand if it was rejected. The scientist didn't respond, at least not immediately, his back to Raph even as his hands still shook.

Something in Draxum's shoulders relaxed--not truly relaxed, so much as lost the tension holding him stiff and upright--and he sighed. "I can't stop now. There's too much I still need to do." His hair lay limp and matted against his back, greasy from lack of washing.

How long had Draxum been doing this? Destroying himself? How long had Raph not noticed it?

"Just a quick break," Raph tried. "Get a small meal in and get back to work after that."

A sharp headshake. "I can't--I can't. If I stop now, I'll lose all momentum--I have so much I need to do tonight--and I've gotten behind over the last few weeks, I can't fall behind my schedule any further, and besides, I haven't earned it yet--"

Suddenly Draxum whirled around, the vials in his hands dangerously close to spilling. "All of yokai-kind is depending on me. I can't let them down. I can't let more lives be lost! Too much is at stake here to simply take a break!"

The picture was familiar, heart-achingly so. It only took a flicker of imagination to superimpose Raph's own brother, to replace Draxum's desperate, bloodshot eyes with Donnie's wide, worried ones. The concerns were practically identical: the certainty-laced fear that rest now would be paid for later in agony and blood.

"What's yokai-kind gonna do if you work yourself to death?" Raph replied, as gently as he could, reaching out for the vials Draxum gripped so tightly. "Whatever you're doing here, who's gonna do it if you can't? Me? You know I'm not a science guy, Drax."

There's so much weight on your shoulders, Dad, Raph thought. Let me help you carry it.

Raph took hold of one of the vials, tugging gently. At first, it seemed as though Draxum wouldn't let go, that he would hold on even tighter, chase Raph out of the room and return to killing himself slowly. But after a few seconds, the scientist's trembling hand loosened, allowing Raph to slide the glass from between his fingers and set it back in the holder. He took the second with no resistance, and did the same.

Raph allowed himself a small smile, a tiny flicker of the ever-present tension between his shoulders melting away. "Okay, Draxum. Let's get you some food, maybe a nap, and see how you're doing after that."

This mad scientist at least, he could help.

[crybaby-bkg]

sᴄᴏʀɴᴇᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ғɪᴠᴇ

Bakugou x f!reader Warnings/Tags: male OC tries to assault reader, short scuffle between reader and OC, attempted sexual assault (but nothing actually happens), poor living conditions, slowly creeping into the hesitant friends arc!!, panic attacks, very brief suicidal ideations Word Count: 4.6k Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!

Main Masterlist AO3

A couple days have gone by since your meeting with the heroes and the Hero Commission’s worker. You still haven’t come to a clear decision yet, but granted, this is a big decision and its not just one that you can make over night. 

As you head home from your job, you try to weigh the pros and cons of rebranding as a hero. For one, you’d probably make more money and be able to afford your apartment. You wouldn’t have to sneak around so much, and you’d probably get a lot more respect and credit when walking amongst people, and not just in online spaces.

But…who’s to say the rest of society will accept you? In hero society, being a vigilante is illegal. You know that if you accept the conditions of rebranding, then your crimes will be forgiven, but for the rest of your career, you’ll be under strict watch. What’s the point of saving people if you have to be monitored the whole time?

A lot of those who have become victims themselves, or had been saved by you, respected what you did and how you went about it. But so, so many, including heroes and the government and police alike, hated you. Not because of what you stood for, that most didn’t know or didn’t care to know, but because you were targeting men. Its not like those men were innocent, but due diligence and the whole concept of “judge, jury, and executioner” really turned people off from you. 

If you did accept, how would other heroes see you? Would they find new respect for you, after hearing your story? Or would they only condemn you to being a vigilante, someone who should’ve never been forgiven? 

How would Miruko see you? Would she respect you, and what you’ve become? Would she still carry the same disdain she shows on the news? 

What would become of you, if you let the Red Medusa lay forever forgotten in the streets, and become someone new? Should you bring up your vigilante days, or do you let the news dig it all up and find out when you start flourishing as a hero? Do you keep the gap between victim and hero empty, or would you have to spill it all to everyone?

The thoughts overwhelm you, and you find yourself in front of your door before you know it. You drop your keys twice, and by the time you finally unlock your door, someone clearing their throat interrupts you. Your head whips around to find your landlord standing a few feet beside you with his hands tucked into his jeans. 

He’s a younger guy, which was a surprise when you first met him. You thought all landlords looked like sewer rats with greasy hair and a creepy aura. This landlord, Mr. Riku only exudes one of those things—creepiness. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your rent, sweetheart.” Mr. Riku nods his head to you, and you bristle at the name. 

“Don’t call me sweetheart.” You snap at him, keeping your hand locked on your doorknob, the other holding a pocket knife tight in the front of your hoodie. Mr. Riku rolls his eyes at you, holding his hands up in mock surrender as he laughs. 

“Ah, right. Trauma, and shit.” He says flippantly, making a face that you think is supposed to disarm you and make you laugh with him. You don’t. You stare at him for a minute, chewing the inside of your cheek as you take all of him in. 

“What do you want?” You bark when he stands there staring at you for too long. Every time you talk to him, you feel like you’re going to emerge out of the conversation covered in slime weighing you down. 

“You’re three months behind on rent. I should evict you.” He singsongs, twisting his mouth as he leans against the wall beside your door. 

“So why don’t you?” You sneer at him, all bite and sharp teeth that he ignores to instead clean invisible dirt from under his nails. 

“It would be a shame to lose such a pretty face in my building, you know? I’d miss it.” Mr. Riku looks up at you from under white haired bangs, grinning something evil that makes your stomach churn and your chest tighten. Before you can say anything, he’s slinking his way inside of your apartment through your open door, coming in before you can stop him. 

“The fuck are you doing?” You shout at him, hand tightening on the pocket knife as you flip it open inside your pocket. You really don’t wanna slice up your landlord and get into actual non-vigilante trouble for this, but you’re starting to fall into fight or flight mode. Right now, he’s one of the men who’s hurt you, and you refuse to be a victim again. 

“I own the building, sweetheart.” Mr. Riku says snootily, walking into your living room, violating it with his yuck. “I’m entitled to come into each and every unit when I damn so please.” He looks around the place, holding up a shirt you left on the couch and sniffing it blatantly in your face. 

You cringe at that, heart rate picking up as you take a step to him, frozen in your spot when he suddenly appears in front of you again. He reaches a hand out to your own that’s still in your pocket, and you finally find it in you to move, snatching away as you stumble into the still ajar door. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You growl at him, though your voice shakes much more than you’d like. Usually, when facing off with creepy men like this, they don’t know who you are, can’t hang your living situation over your head, don’t know your connections to a high ranking hero who paid for you to live here.. 

“I have an offer for you, that I can’t let the other neighbors hear.” Mr. Riku whispers, inching closer to you until his nose damn near brushes yours. 

You jerk back, one hand still gripping the knife, the other curling up into a fist at your side. If he attacks, you can either cut him or punch him, but that might not be enough. You might have to get your gun strapped to your hip, even though you’re sure that it’ll be too loud and alert the neighbors. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or bad thing. 

“Which is?” You reply back, calculating his next move as much as you can, trying to keep your head leveled. 

“I’ll extend your stay here. But you have to treat me right in return.” Mr. Riku mutters, hands—creepy, disgusting, too bony, too long, too veiny hands—reaching out to cup your chest. Before he can, you swing your fist, nailing him directly in the jaw, sending him crashing into your bookshelf next to your front door. A few books fall on him, and you stand above him, heart racing at the thought of what he just tried to do to you. 

“Fuck you, you fucking pig.” You spit at him, voice cracking as he moans in pain. You pick up your bag, kicking him between the legs once as hard as you can before you finally dart out into the hallway. 

From there, you run and run and run until your legs take you to a safe place, heart in your throat all the while. You don’t think you can breathe; you don’t think you took a single breath the entire way there until you found your back against a familiar door, gasping in the musky air of the warehouse. 

Nobody seems to be here, as all the lights are off and its quieter than it usually is. You call out Vanity’s name, expecting for at least her to be there, but nobody answers you. You feel rooted to your place at the door, eyes welling with tears as your shaking hands hold tightly onto your bag. You can’t move—have your limbs always been weighed down so heavily by lead? Has your heartbeat always been so loud in your ears?

After what feels like hours, do you slowly start sinking down onto the hard, cold floor beneath you. Your fingers are warm and clammy when you finally let go of the bag, to instead wrap your arms around your figure. You take a breath, and then another, before the sobs start to wrack your body, heavy and loud and ugly, shaking and screeching, angry and full of—of, rage, fear, terrifying, body consuming fear. 

Your eyes burn with every blink, your chest getting too tight, you don’t think you can muster anymore breath inside of your lungs. You can’t move, you can’t move, you can’t move. 

A shadow emerges from the steps in the back corner, and you think that this might be the end for you. Maybe it should be—you won’t have to fight anymore, you won’t have to suffer. You won’t be such a pain in the ass for Dynamight anymore. 

But instead, you’re greeted with an emerald green eyepatch and a golden, glowing eye. Vanity. 

She says something to you, but your ears feel like they’re filled with cotton. She crouches in front of you, waving a hand in front of your face, but your eyes have been unseeing for a while now. So she holds you, close to her chest, gathers you up in her arms like a mother would, and she holds you. 

You don’t think you’ve ever cried harder. 

You two stay like that for what feels like days, before your tears have slowed to trickles down your cheeks, and your sobs have dissipated into quiet little hiccups. You don’t know when you started holding her back, but your hands grip her shirt, and you belatedly realize that she’s wearing her usual pajamas. 

“Sorry for waking you,” you croak out, throat dry and scratchy. Vanity leans back to fix you with a frown, and you notice that her own eye holds tears. 

“Don’t apologize. I heard my girl crying, and what kind of best friend would I be to not comfort her?” She reassures you, wiping away the few stray tears that still fall down your face. You smile wobbly at her, before planting your head in her chest again. She’s warm, and holds you close to her with her arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, stroking your hair. She lets you stay like that for a few more minutes, before she speaks,

“Can I ask what happened?” Her voice is tiny in the big, spacious room. “It’s okay if you don’t want to share.” You sit with her question hanging in the air, trying to gather the words in your mouth to spit out. 

“Creepy, shitty landlord.” Is all you can muster up. It’s enough though, as she only hums in acknowledgement, muttering, 

“It’s always creepy, shitty landlords, ain’t it?” You can hear her smile when you start to laugh against her skin, finally pulling back to look at her. Her cheeks are tear-stained, and you wonder if she can cry from an empty socket. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” She asks, helping you to your feet. 

The rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur, with Vanity helping you to the shower, lending you some clothes since you didn’t have anything clean in your bag, and fixing you up something quick and easy to eat. You two are quiet in the empty warehouse, and you fall asleep next to her on the cot in her room. It’s uncomfortable sharing such a small space, but at least you know you’re safe. 

…

Things went by uneventfully when you “broke” into your apartment to get some extra clothes and other necessities with Vanity. After that though, you’ve stayed in the warehouse full time. It’s not the most ideal living situation though, long term, since there’s no Wi-Fi and it interferes with your connection to the outside world and possible villain activity going on. Also, there’s no hot water, nor is there a fully functioning kitchen besides a microwave. 

This hideaway was only supposed to be for temporary usage—running away from the cops, needing to get stitched up, some extra ammo, a safe place to sleep for a few nights. 

Not for two weeks. Once your higher ups started asking questions about your performance after a few patients expressed their worry about your near constant zombie-like state, you realized that you had to find another solution. (You think its the consistent cold showers that really did you in. Miruko spoiled you with such a nice place.) 

You finally decide to swallow your pride, grumbling all the while as you stand behind the warehouse, holding your phone up high to the sky. 

[ You , sent at 8:49pm ]

hey asshole, its trm. got a minute to chat? 

[ Dynamight , sent at 8:52pm ]

yeah, only took you three years to text me

what?

[ You , sent at 8:55pm ]

you're even ruder over text

I need a favor, but don’t expect anything in return 

[ Dynamight , sent at 8:57pm ]

Never. 

[ You , sent at 8:58pm ]

got some housing issues going on rn. do you have any recs for low rent apartments in the area?

[ Dynamight , sent at 9:00pm ]

Ur shitting bricks if you think you can get something low in this neighborhood

[ You , sent at 9:05pm ]

thanks for the fucking help then

[ Dynamight , sent at 9:06pm ]

got a spare room at my place tho?

[ You , sent at 9:06pm ]

And what the fuck does that mean?

“What the fuck does that mean, Dynamight?” You immediately call him before the text can even send through, heart in your throat, your breathing heavy. Dynamight answers on the second ring, and grunts at your loud tone this late at night. 

“What else would it mean?” He asks, voice disinterested as he yawns on the other end of the line. “I gotta spare room at my place, if you wanna crash.” He offers up like its the most casual thing a person could ever do. You’re silent on the other line as you let his words sink in, eyebrows furrowing as your gaze unfocuses on the thicket of trees in front of you. 

Why would he offer up his place to you? Is he looking for something in return? Would he take advantage of you? What if the fucker had some kind of freaky room where he could tie you up and do whatever freaky shit repressed heroes do? You bite at your lip, mind reeling, as you form your mouth to reject his offer.  

“Look, not to be an intrusive dumbass but—” Dynamight speaks up after a long stretch of silence. 

“You are.” You cut him off, listening to him grunt on the other end of the line. 

“Shuddup.” You can practically hear the frown in his voice before he continues. “But I see Miruko hooked you up at a shelter near the apartment you were staying at, and its pretty close to where I’m at. If you don’t wanna take an hour commute to get there because you gotta stay in some shitty apartment, then you could come crash with me.” 

He’s too fucking nonchalant for you, to be offering up something so hugely important. You just don’t get it, you think, as you exhale, one hand gripping your phone tightly and the other gripping the roots of your hair. 

“And why would you do that?” You ask him in the tiniest whisper you can muster, brain struggling to figure out why someone like him would offer his space to someone like you. 

“The fuck? I just explained why.” Dynamight grunts confusedly on the other end, and you can damn near see his thick brows scrunching in confusion.  

“No, I mean why you?” You ask desperately, hands starting to tremor as you speak through your teeth. “Why are you offering up your place for me to live? We don’t even know each other, much less like each other.” Your voice, quiet, shaking under the weight of the words. Dynamight is silent for a few seconds before he retorts, 

“We’d have to know each other to dislike each other.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.” You snap at him, back straightening as if he could see you. He goes silent for a few beats, formulating the right words in his head before he talks quietly into the mic. 

“Call this a gesture of good faith.” He states, voice firm and unwavering. “I’ve intruded on your life a fuckton these past weeks, trying to rope you into hero life, ‘nd all that, so I wanna offer up something that means a lot to me. Even playing field, and shit.”

You fall silent, mulling over his words, everything that could go wrong if you were to put your trust into a hero, a man. He could hurt you. He could get away with it, easily. He could paint you out to be the crazy one, the problem. 

But…he could help you. You would never need a man’s help but—Dynamight, in all of your interactions, never seemed like the type of scummy guys you frequently punished. He felt genuine, in a sense, firm but not too pushy. And maybe—maybe you could trust him. Just a little bit. 

He hasn’t turned you into the police or to Hero Commission (yet?). You guess the guy couldn’t be all bad. 

“I’m not taking any fuckin’ handouts.” You snap at him after a minute of silence. You can hear him chuckle on the other end before fabric starts ruffling in the background. 

“Not a handout, dumbass. Just letting you borrow some shit for the time being.” He shrugs, and you swear you hear him yawn once. You frown, kicking up some branches that lay fallen at your feet. 

“I’ll pay rent.” You mutter to him. 

“No shit you’re paying rent.” Dynamight snorts, barely giving you a second to even offer. Shit head. 

“Okay. Text me your address.” You go to pull your phone away to hang up, interrupted by his voice calling out on the other end. 

“You’re coming now? I was about to go to bed.” He grumbles. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, pulling the phone away from your ear to check the time. 

“The fuck? It’s not even 9:30 yet, you old fart.” You poke at him, listening to his annoyed mumbling on the other side. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Dynamight says with no real malice. “Call me when you’re outside.” He hangs up before you can say another word, and sends his address through to you only seconds later. 

You look up at the sky before going back inside, gaze focused on the full moon and the cloudless skies, and wonder how the hell you’re gonna tell Vanity that you're moving in with a male pro hero. You decide that the best way to tell her, is by not telling her face to face at all. 

Before you leave, you write a note left on your cot for her to find. You know she’s not going to be happy about this, but you have to put yourself first every once in a while. 

…

“Well you look like shit.” Is the first thing you tell Dynamight when he opens the door to his apartment. He’s frowning at you, with half of his ash blond mane flattened on one side, his tank top twisted at the neck a little, his sweatpants low on his hips, and his feet bare. He looks like you’ve just woken him up. 

“Fuck off,” he mutters, yawning before he turns on his heel to walk back inside. You follow, albeit hesitantly, afraid that something or someone might be wanting for you around the corner, ready to attack. But you take off your shoes, and pad into the living room, and it looks like no boogeymen are plotting on snatching you before you can even scream. 

Dynamight stands behind the couch with his hands on his hips, a sleepy little frown on his face as he looks at you. He gestures to the open layout of his place, voice a deep grumble in his throat. 

“Living room. Tv remote there,” he points to the coffee table before hooking his thumb behind him. “Kitchen—don’t eat my fuckin’ protein bars.” He points at you next and you only sneer at him. He tries to match your look but he’s too sleepy to keep up, so he only turns on his heel again before guiding you down a long hallway. 

“Did you fall asleep already? We just hung up like, thirty minutes ago.” You ask him, frowning when it takes more effort than you’d like to keep up with his long legs. 

“Shut it. I thought I was gonna stay up, but ‘m fuckin’ exhausted.” Dynamight grunts at you, sidestepping at a door across from what looks like the bathroom. You peer inside, hiking your heavy book bag up higher on your shoulder. Dynamight goes to take it without warning, and you instinctively grab it back, head whipping up to stare at him in confusion. He scrunches his face up before shaking his head at you. 

“Sorry. Looks heavy, and I was gonna put it down for you.” His voice is small, and he folds his arms across his chest. You blink up at him for a few seconds, taking a few breaths to calm your suddenly racing heart before you drop the bag into his barely ready hands. He grunts at the weight of it, tired face surprised at how much you’ve stuffed inside. 

“This my room?” You ask him, ignoring his question of how many bodies you’ve packed in there, to walk inside the new space. 

It’s big. Entirely so, almost as big as your whole apartment from before. There’s a deep marooned carpet covering the floor, the walls a muted gray, with cream colored black out curtains covering the windows. The bed looks too big for just you to sleep in, decorated with more gray and cream sheets. Four pillows sit against a wooden headboard, and a small circular decorative one sits in the middle. There’s a purple throw blanket at the end of the bed that doesn’t match anything, but you see that its knitted, and you wonder why someone like Dynamight owns something so soft. 

There’s a TV in front of the bed, and a small couch at the end of it. A closet on one side of the room, open and empty, the other wall decorated with a wooden dresser pressed against it. The room is beautiful and so…un-Dynamight. 

“Why’s the bed so big?” Is the only thing you can muster up, shocked at how nice the room really is. Dynamight grunts at that, and you think it might’ve actually been a chuckle. He enters the room, setting your bag on the cream couch and letting you enter, before he stands back at the doorway again. 

“‘Cause I’m a big guy, with some big friends who like to invite themselves over and get too fuckin’ drunk to go home.” Dynamight leans against the doorsill with his arms crossed over his chest, yawning at the end of his sentence. His eyes are so low, and droopy, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think his quirk was actually being half lion. If you tilt your head enough, you’re sure you’d see some fluffy ears hidden in the mane of his hair. 

You look away, realizing you’ve been staring as you run your hand over the soft blanket. You look back to him, almost as if in question, but he only blinks at you. You’re quiet for a while, taking everything in. 

“Bathrooms across the hall, too. It’s all yours, since I have my own in my room.” Dynamight tells you, head jerking back to across the hall. Your eyes flicker behind him before landing on him again, feeling something warm starting to light up your chest. 

“Thank you, Dynamight.” You whisper to him, voice tiny, as you awkwardly fold your arms over your chest. You hate feeling so meek, so in debt, so needy. But he doesn’t seem to take advantage of it, rolling his eyes as he pushes off the wall. 

“We’re roommates now. Call me Bakugou.” He tells you, voice firm. You want to be an asshole and come up with some smart remark, but you can’t seem to find any. So you nod at him, once, and give him your last name, too. He smiles a tiny little smile at that before a yawn breaks his face again. He backs up from your door with a small wave, nodding to you. 

“We can discuss rent and shit in the morning. Get some sleep.” He tells you, going to turn his back before you speak up as you start unzipping your bag to pull out some pajamas. 

“I could say the same to you.” You call out to him, watching his eyebrow quirk in surprise. 

“So say it.” He nods his chin to you, slowly walking backwards to his own room. You bristle at that though, shoulders hiking up to your ears as you flip him the bird, something you’re really starting to like doing to him. 

“Fuck off.” You snap at him, no real malice in your tone. Dynamight—Bakugou, laughs at that, before turning on his heel to enter his room. He closes it without another look and you feel yourself release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in. 

So what now? You think to yourself, your eyes falling to the pajamas you’re tightly holding before glancing up to the bathroom. 

Now���a hot shower. 

The bathroom is just as big as your room, with the same maroon-grey-cream color scheme going on. He’s even got some decorative towels in here, and it makes you wonder if someone did all of this for him, or if he did it himself. Either way, it doesn’t matter much when the hot water is all you really came for. 

You go on about your nightly routine without further preamble, stiffening every time you hear a bump in the loft. You keep your gun close to you, even seating it on the toilet as you shower and brush your teeth. But nothing happens, and you dart quickly into your room, locking it behind you the moment you’re safe. 

You check the closet, behind the door, and under your bed, and find nothing thankfully. You let yourself breathe for the first time in a long time, as you sit on the side of the bed in your pajamas. You won’t stay here long, you muse over with yourself. Just use his Wi-Fi and shower and oven until you can find a reasonable place to live, even if you have to start taking extra shifts at your job, even if it means having to do less vigilante work. 

This is only temporary, you tell yourself as you lay back in bed, pulling up the purple blanket until it reaches your chin. You don’t want to get under the bed covers—it’ll signify that you’ll overstay your welcome. You can’t stay long. You can’t. 

You don’t sleep much the first night, watching the door all night long, anticipating someone to try the doorknob. It’s left alone the entire time, and only when the sunlight rises, do you finally rest your eyes and let sleep take you. 

chapter six

please do not repost or rec on tik tok!

tag list: @endlessfreaky @iamaconfusedpan

[hiskillingjar]

Emetophilia (Lawrence/MC)

day 23: emetophilia second person. cw for vomit. lots of it

"OH, GOD, LAW-!"

You managed a disgusted yelp, a repulsed grimace on your face as you attempted to wriggle away from Lawrence's hunched-up, still retching form, though their hold on your body stayed firm as ever as they spewed their guts out all over your naked body.

The vomit was thick and almost heavy as it weighed down on your skin, both in sensation and scent, since it smelled of beer, microwaved food, and rot, just like Lawrence always smelled. The greasy feel of it clung to your skin like slime or ectoplasm (if you could possibly know what those things felt like) and despite how still you were trying to be, it managed to drip down every sensitive area of your body and cover each of your shuddering curves. 

You cringed, looking down at your shaking stomach now painted in milky-yellow puke, trying to suppress the urge to vomit yourself.

"F-Fuck," They stammered, finally looking up towards you with an absolutely mortified expression on their face, their pale skin even paler (almost green in hue) as they reached up to cover their vomit-slicked lips with trembling fingers, looking like they were about ready to puke again. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me...I-I just couldn't hold it back, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." 

"It's okay, Law," You mumbled with an attempt at a smile, though you were still repulsed as you looked down at yourself, as the vomit slowly made its way down your stomach and towards Lawrence's still hips. "Just...just let me up and we can clean ourselves off, okay? And then we'll take care of you, okay?"

They said nothing for a moment, swallowing hard and wiping their mouth down their chin, their bottom lip pulled down and exposing pale gums, doe-grey eyes wide and panicked, before they...began to move again, pressing themselves deeper inside of you, since they were still as hard as they had been before, for whatever reason.

It felt good, of course, it did, but that didn't get rid of the fact that you were still absolutely covered in their vomit, and the more they moved, the more it moved with you.

"Lawrence," You then said, your voice taking on a note of firmness as you glared up at them, meeting their eyes with your own. "Let me up. Now." Your voice had lost a bit of its usual edge though, and your quivering lip wasn’t going to be intimidating anyone soon.

"Ah," They gasped softly, lowering their body back against yours, their chest pressing into the broad puddle of vomit still clinging to your own. "I...I want to keep going. I'm sorry I threw up, but I...I have to keep going. You understand?"

"Don't keep going!" You nearly shouted, outraged, though they quickly covered your mouth with a broad palm (god, was that the one they wiped their puke up with, fuck-), their other hand reaching round to fist in your hair and keep you pinned still.

"Be good," They growled softly, so quietly and dangerously, lowering their head down to your level, their lips inches from yours, so close you could still smell vomit on their breath. "I'm going to keep going...so enjoy it, or don't. I don't care which." 

You swallowed hard and whimpered against their palm as they continued to thrust up into you, keeping your head still.

"Be good...be good."

Barely seconds after removing their palm from your mouth, they kissed you hard, their sour tongue immediately pressing between your lips like an invasive species, and you were forced to taste the vile, acidic remnants of bile and vomit on their lips, their tongue. 

You squirmed and wriggled underneath them, trying to shove them away, your arms against their strong shoulders and broad chest, but your refusal to acclimate to what they wanted and the way you fought back against them seemed to only excite (and annoy) them more, as they started to thrust in and out of you again, with a new kind of vigor. 

The combined sensation of the crushing kiss and their tongue in your mouth, and the aching stretch of your cunt around their monstrous cock, pushing deep, so deep you felt it nudge against your fucking cervix, made you moan involuntarily against their lips and hungry mouth. You could hear every one of their pleased sounds too, as they fucked into you harder, pressing your chests together and coating themselves in their own vomit even more, like the two of you were bathing in it. 

It’s fucked up. It’s so fucked up, but you couldn’t deny how arousing it was knowing that they'd fuck you, even when you were covered in their vomit and when you smelled like shit. 

You could feel your cunt clench tight around them as the burning shame in the pit of your stomach made you moan even louder against their invasive kiss. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, and, dizzy with sickening pleasure, you allowed yourself to press your vomit slick fingers into their long hair and let them fuck you as they wanted.

It’s sick. 

They were sick. 

But you were so, so much worse for wanting it so bad that it ached.

[a-pale-azure-moon]

I really do live in Faerghus, because the calendar says it's spring but a foot of new snow fell overnight and as of this writing it's still snowing. I can only laugh because otherwise I'd cry. But since I'm snowed in today, I did a task that has needed doing for way too long but kept getting punted because I really did not want to do it.

I gave Rory, my golden retriever, a bath.

Rory is generally a good boy but he is not cooperative about baths. At all. He's also very strong (he weighs almost 90 pounds), so wrangling him is both difficult and exhausting as he wiggles and tries to bolt even as he's choking himself by pulling on the leash. Then he whines and sounds SO SAD that it makes me feel guilty even though I'm definitely not hurting him.

Being so uncooperative, his typical baths are usually quick rinses with the garden hose in the summer, but with the weather as it is these days, it might be August before that's possible. And he really can't wait that long; not only does he stink, his fur has a greasy feel to it (probably because he rolled in something) and his coat is very compacted, so much so that the brush can't make a dent in improving it.

These are desperate times, so like it or not, he was getting bathed indoors. Since he's way too heavy to lift into the tub, I tethered him inside the shower. It was quickly obvious that the only way I could keep him still enough to wash him was by pinning him between my legs. I got sopping wet, of course, but on the plus side, I'm quite sure this is the most thorough bath he's ever had.

The volume of fur the bath released was impressive enough, but the dirt that came off was equally satisfying. He also smells MUCH better and the greasy feel is gone.

He's scared of the hairdryer, so I toweled him off as best I could and then brushed him for awhile as he air dried. Thankfully, he likes getting brushed, so this also helped calm him down a little from the "trauma" of the bath. I got even more fur out of him in the process, and it was still coming even after his patience and my back wore out.

By the time we were finally done, I was still wet, my back was on fire, and I had a huge mess to clean up in the bathroom. Was this face really worth all of this trouble? I'll let you be the judge.

(Yes)

He still needs more brushing, which is something I'll try to do this weekend, but I'm satisfied at no longer having this chore looming over my head. And Rory of course got a treat afterwards.

[adhdnojutsu]

@theheirofthesharingan asked me how I write Itachi mid-psychosis. Being terrible with time, I didn't realize that was a while ago... but here goes...

I like writing from 1st person POV, so I tend to pick a character close to Itachi to make subjective observations.

An observing character would describe him as gloomier than usual, more withdrawn, sleeping or eating more or less than usual, glowering through unkempt hair, the Sharingan activating at inappropriate times because his acutely troubled brain feels threatened by anything.

OG Japanese Itachi is RUDE on his best days, so when he's in a bad place mentally (as in, worse than usual), I write him to be somewhere between his baseline and insufferable ("Go fuck yourself, Kisame"), or the opposite, completely submissive for lacking the capacity to impose, basically a ragdoll who lies around until someone flings him about.

I write him on meds a lot. I don't know why, but I have a medical "affinity", so that stuff plays a role a lot. From what little is known about his "canon" medication, it'd have him indifferent and "hot mess cheerful" a lot of the time, so I write medicated Itachi "idgaf cheerful" in a way Effy or Cassie from Skins are cheerful (think "wake up in a greasy alleyway with your mascara running down your face and not remembering whose jizz is in your panties, but smiling and thinking this is fine"). Even off Kotaro, he'd take stuff to numb himself or sleep through the days, or uppers if he has to perform. No, he doesn't wipe the occasional trail of drool in that state, and he will scratch his crotch in public without a care in the world or stare at his own barf for a while before deciding to clean it up.

He's more indifferent than usual to what happens to him, he s*lf-h*rms in ways other than "existing while Itachi", and drinks, which in my hc makes him clingy and expressive, so he seeks attention from people he usually avoids.

Sasuke is still his raison d'être, but it becomes hard to give him that much weight when his mental health is weighing more heavily on Itachi. So he may get mood swings from being torn between having to hang on for Sasuke, and the temptation to end his own suffering here and now. He could lash out during such times and be both short in his replies and snappy.

I use body language a lot, too, or I think so. I write Itachi making himself small a lot, like disappearing in his cloak or his clothing being too baggy on him. Like an animal retreating to hybernate or, well, die. Clothing size isn't necessarily body language, but used deliberately, it does work like a turtle shell. When he's around people he trusts, he responds to pain and emotional triggers, but when he isn't, he'd be stiff and irritable from self-restraint. So there's always some tension in his neck and shoulders, feet pointing away from the unpleasant situation, a 1000 yard stare or a gaze into a distance he'd rather be in.

He'd slouch a lot and an observer would think he shrank. I sometimes give him nervous habits like fumbling his lips or scratching, in one WIP he's found sucking his thumb in his mother's blood (granted, he's 12 there). If you gave him a fidget spinner, he'd probably break it, then try stabbing his hand with it.

TL;DR, I think mid-break Itachi would just struggle to retain all that dignified composure of his and the screaming, thrashing, shaking, vomiting inner child would leak in ways it often does with these quiet ones. Or in extreme cases, as Danzo calls it in one WIP, "a dumb sack of emotional incontinence beneath even animals".

Because Itachi isn't a psychopath. He feels. Intensely. Take away his strength to bottle it all up after all he's been through, this could be what you get.