#this shit is so sick & twisted but it’s true

[reikunrei]

one of my favorite cryptid/monster creation theories is that something, even if it was entirely made up, becomes real purely because people believe it enough, and I keep thinking about that in relation to henry's powers/the way he wanted to change the world

like, rather than it being actual timeline splitting or time travel in order to change things (thinking specifically of that shot of him rewinding the grandfather clock, literally manipulating time), it's just like... he wills these things to happen because he believed hard enough in it? if that makes sense?

like he still has powers, that's all real, but rather than it being actual time manipulation, it's closer to like... faulty or changed memories that then retroactively become real. as a tiny example, like brenner's hair inexplicably changing style or graying too fast is just bc henry remembered it wrong, but that doesn't mean it's not real

i just feel like it's an interesting thought since henry leaned so heavily into making false memories or interactions with his victims (chrissy's mom in the bathroom, the cop saying he recognized fred, max seeing her mom after leaving the letters for her family) but they all stemmed from the truth, and perhaps could have become real if the victims believed it hard enough and gave in to their pain and fear

idk! like... i feel like it would be a cool twist to have it be a manipulation of memories that retroactively changes stuff, but the old version still leaks through, rather than it directly being like time travel and stuff

[1ncandescentrage]

I look forward for when my ear infection is gone. And to continue developing a body and hair ritual out of love.

[hecksupremechips]

Oh god. It’s october 4th 😰

[brunetterightsactivist]

Telling myself to stop getting so antsy and excited and wait the full year that I’ve been back on the pill for it to fully take effect and regulate itself and then my body and appetite and brain are going to go back to normal lol

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Nineteen

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader AO3 - 3.2k words Tags: 18+ mdni. nurse!reader. Pregnancy and things that come with it. PTSD, anxiety, despair, depression. A lot of internal monologue.

“I need to borrow your car.” Marshall’s eyebrows shoot straight up into his hairline.

“Excuse me?”

“Your car.” You spit, barely containing the tremble in your voice. Your throat is tight, hundreds of thousands of pounds sitting on top of your chest, crushing you, your heart. “Marshall-“

“I’m confused why you think I’d let you borrow my car.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, the thin shred of patience you’ve been holding onto finally ripping apart.

“I have put up with you for years. I have dealt with your shit, your relentless pursuit of anything that walks, your lack of interest in your own patients. I have covered for you. I have babysat for you. You owe me.” He blinks, and then pats his pocket, scrutinizing your expression.

“Are you okay?” You glitch for a second. The orchestrated denial, evasion slips away as you grapple with his question. You’ll never be okay. Never.

It snaps back like a rubber band. Like a backhand across your face.

“I’m fine.” You’re not fine. You’re drowning. You’re at the bottom of a well, stone walls cracking and crumbling at your feet. “Keys.” He drops them into your outstretched palm with a sigh. “You can pick it up at the south station in a few hours, okay?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes…” A plan is still rapidly taking shape, forming from bits and pieces of roads laid out before you. “My mother is sick, and not answering the phone. I’m worried, trying to get over there as soon as I can.” He nods, unphased by the glaringly obvious hole in your lie.

“Of course.”

You have no one to blame but yourself.

The girl in the mirror blinks back at you with judgement in the quiet of the bathroom. She regards you with disgust.

Foolish.

Hot water flows over your knuckles, your palms. It burns, too hot to be sensible, scorching your skin.

It’s pain you deserve.

This is the only time you’ll give yourself for now, the only time you’ll break until it’s safe again.

You shatter to pieces. You scream into your hands, sobs cracking your ribs, cleaving you apart.

It was all a lie.

And you’re the one who fell for it. You’re the one who believed it was real, that they were true. You believed you could walk in the sun, and you only have yourself to blame.

You try to burn their faces from your mind, incinerating your memories to ash. Johnny’s eyes, his easy smile, the lilt of his accent when he’d say your name. Simon’s low murmurs and comfort in the dark, the way they molded themselves around you, held you.

They tricked you, but they made it so real, so believable. So sweet as they wrapped you up in a web, dripped poisoned honey into your mouth from their own.

Lies. They’re full of lies.

Steam rises from the bowl of the sink, and you look yourself in the face again. You stare at the woman who allowed herself to be manipulated, who gave herself to two people who only sought to harm her.

But-

They gave you a gift, didn’t they? They gave you this chance.

Your palm hovers over your stomach, and you fill your lungs with oxygen.

Get it together. Get yourself together.

Your world crumbles beneath your feet, but you’ve done this before. You’ll do it again. Better, even, now with the stakes so high, higher than you could ever imagine.

You can do this.

Deep breath.

The foundation of your resolve cracks when you step through the front door and Penny comes padding down the hall with her arms up.

You meet her in a crouch, letting her cuddle you, small fingers twisted in your scrub top. “Hey Penny girl. How’s your day, huh?” She signs something and then points to the living room before smiling.

“Bocks.”

You retreat into yourself, burying the lump in your throat, swallowing your tears. “I love you; you know that?” You lick your thumb and wipe the corner of her mouth. “So much.” Lou clears her throat from the hallway, watching with a strange expression.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just tired, and forgot my work backpack.” You had forgotten how easy it is, to lie. How easy the mask slides on. It’s almost nonchalant, a practiced art.

You retreat upstairs before she can question you further.

In a sewn in pocket of a backpack shoved under the guest bed, is a cellphone. It’s a flip phone, old and clunky, always charged, but almost always off, except when it’s needed. Programmed with a single contact, a pre written text already in the drafts.

I’m moving again. I’ll keep you posted.

The response is always the same. Be safe.

There are too many items in your life now. Too many objects, too many things, and too little time to pick through them.

You stick to your rules. Pack light and easy. You can replace anything left behind once you’re somewhere safe. Nothing frivolous, self-indulgent, or even sentimental.

It’s tempting to take a permanent marker and scribble fuck you across their bathroom mirror, tempting to take a knife to the mattress and slice it to shreds. It’s tempting to rip their clothes to pieces, to soak their life in lighter fluid and strike a match. The anger pulses in your veins like poison, knowing you could never.

Even now, the idea of them hurting makes you feel sick.

Fool, you’re a fool. A silly, stupid girl who got caught up in a fairytale with no sense to save herself.

You take one last long look at the bed. The bed where you thought you were safe, the place where your nightmares eventually turned to dreams.

Tears burn at the back of your eyes, and it takes everything you have to stay upright.

Phillip terrorized you, beat you black and blue, stole your future, your life-

but it never hurt as bad as this.

Marshall’s car is, of course, is expensive. Something out of a fancy television commercial. It’s comfortable, fast, and drives smoother than butter.

It reminds you of Phillip. Of all the luxury and riches surrounding him, the mile high leg up he had since the day he was born. His entire existence carefully crafted and honed into something out of a nightmare, the mask of a monster slipping on and off as easily as yours.

You used to wonder if money really did buy happiness before you met him, and then you learned. Some people crave more. Some people crave violence. Destruction.

There’s no happiness for those who are rotten to the core, their souls as dark as night, their desires putrid and inhumane.

You never saw it with them, in them. You never felt it, the way you felt it in Phillip. They fooled the wariest heart.

Will your child be like them? Deceitful? Evil?

Will it be nature versus nurture?

The first piece of the puzzle is figuring out where to go, how far to run. You need a city or a town big enough to hide in, a hospital that’s in desperate need of nurses, and a flat that’s available immediately. No smaller islands in case you need a quick escape, no countries where you may struggle with the assimilation. Accessible by train. Primarily English speakers.

You briefly dream about something tropical and warm with a beach before you shake the thought loose in favor of the city that’s always been on your short list.

Edinburgh.

It’s painfully kismet, knowing you’ll bring your child to one of their father’s birthplaces, fitting in a sick, senseless way, but you have no choice. You vetted the city in the past, scoped out appropriate neighborhoods, chose a potential workplace. It’s been at the top of your list.

It’s the logical option.

The air is cold. It stings the tip of your nose, your ears, isolates your exhales and turns them into white puffs of fog. Your jacket is too light, too soft for this kind of weather, representative of all the clothing you have in your backpack, and your wallet weeps at the idea of a brand-new wardrobe.

Still, you don’t cry. The tears don’t come, they’re held back by an iron clad dam, an impenetrable fortress built around your heart. People move around where you’re stuck still on the platform, a round rock in the middle of a river, surfaced smoothed by the repeated flow of water.

That’s what you are.

A smooth surface, a still pond, a tranquil lake. Cohesion in its ultimate form, hydrogen bonds clinging to one another, casting a tightly knit net of water molecules over the whole of your being. Lies upon lies meshed to create perfection, an unblemished nurse, an agreeable personality, an overall uninteresting but more than perfunctory person. Forgettable.

Step off the platform, into the street. Slip beneath the surface, swim to the bottom, pack yourself away and assume your new life, new name, new existence, the glass surface hiding a turbulent sea.

Things fall into place. You get hired on the spot and find a great apartment almost immediately. Better than great, if you’re honest. It’s a generously sized two-bedroom, freshly painted, no landlord specials in sight.

“What do ye think?” You wince. The accent pulls a string, tugs on a chord buried deep.

“I’ll take it. I can give you three months’ rent up front,” you survey the locks, “if you can add a deadbolt.” The door only has a keypad lock, the fancy new kind touchscreen kind. You don’t trust them. The wires are too easy to manipulate. He cocks his head.

“Shouldnae be a problem.” He’s looking closely now, too closely, and you flash a smile.

“Thanks. I’m a bit paranoid, you know? New city, can’t be too careful.”

“O’ course.”

“So… how far along are ye?” You choke on the dry piece of scone in your throat.

“Sorry?”

“The bairn?” She points to your belly, and you shift the hospital issued zip up hoodie over your waist. Her face softens. “Don’t worry, I willnae tell.” You haven’t disclosed the pregnancy to your boss yet, trying to wait it out as long as possible to prevent getting fired, still holding onto hope that no one will notice. It’s common practice, something women around the world try to manage, tiptoe around until the last second. Sisterhood, you guess.

“Almost twenty weeks.”

“About halfway then.” Her name is Ally, you think, or with an ie, Allie maybe. She’s a float, the worst position in the hospital, and your envy is nowhere to be found. You’d rather work peds than be in her shoes.

“Yup.” The p pops on your lips apprehensively. Being noticed is a problem. You can’t lose this job, not after the all the energy and effort you’ve expended to make this place home. The apartment you’ve slowly furnished, the baby’s room you’ve now painted, all the broken pieces starting to fall into place.

“Boy or girl?”

“I don’t know.” You manage a weak smile. “I’m gonna wait, I think. Leave it as a surprise.” She claps her hands.

“That’s the best! I have two and did it the same way. It’s so fun.” The conversation wanes, her expression shifting into sympathy. “If ye ever need anything, I’m around. Okay?” Your jaw clenches.

It’s a reminder of how alone you really are. How you have no one to depend on, no one to go to, nothing holding you up. The extension of a helping hand almost brings you to tears, and you whisper with true gratitude.

“Thank you.”

You lose hold of the strings stitching you together as you stare at parts and pieces spread out around your knees, screwdriver abandoned, instructions crumpled up and tossed to the corner.

The ache in your heart is physically spreading. It’s crumbling your weary bones to dust, zapping your strength and resolve away until there’s only despair, desperation left in its wake. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to stem the loss of the control, the tears slipping down your cheeks. “I can’t do this.”

It’s the first time you’ve admitted defeat, and your arms fall limp before wrapping around your belly. “I can’t. I can’t do it.” The words are stifled by gut wrenching sobs, the wave of hopelessness washing over you like a wall of water intent on destruction.

How will you do this alone?

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, slowly stroking over the curve of your bump, rocking back and forth. “It’s just you and me little sunbeam, and I- I don’t know how to do this. I’m going to mess it up.” That’s the crux of it, the heaviness weighing on your shoulders. You’re going to fail. You don’t know how to be a mom, you never imagined doing all this alone.

You wish they were here, you want them here, against all better judgement, and as you lay down on the carpet in the baby’s room, you close your eyes and allow indulgence, a fantasy where you’re not alone. Where you’re curled up on the couch between them, safe and warm. They tell you they love you, assure you how good of a job you’re doing, how wonderful of a mom you’ll be. A dream where they would hold you, wipe your tears, hold their hands to your belly to feel the baby kick. You’d experience all the firsts together, watch Penny become a big sister together, go through all of the highs and lows together.

The fantasy falls away as the cold creep of dread drags you back to reality.

They don’t love you.

They never did.

Your dreams are just that, dreams. Made up nonsense that never existed in the first place.  

Something is wrong.

His knees flex on the bench, attention fixated on the giant sliding doors at the entrance of the hospital.

He’s unsettled. It’s a rare feeling, but Phillip fucking Graves appearing in the hallway today like a nightmare that never goes away has thrown him off kilter.

“Have a man in surgery here. Flown in on a medivac this morning.”

He threw a barb at Johnny immediately after, a comment in jest, but there was something unusual about the glint in his eye.

It was a shine Simon recognized well. The ripple of a hunter, on a scent track of prey.

You’re ten minutes late now, but it’s not unheard of. You rarely, if ever, get out on time.

It never concerns him, except for today. A cloud lingers overhead, caliginous and heavy with rain, waiting for the right moment to change everyone’s day, to spoil it all.

It’s a bad sign, and he doesn’t know why.

When the clock hits twenty minutes past, he texts you.

No response.

He texts again.

No response, again.

When he calls, the phone doesn’t ring. He tries a second time, and then a third, before shoving it into his pocket and stalking inside to the information desk, conveniently placed right in front of the double doors.

“I need a visitor pass.” He towers over the poor girl behind the counter, and she blanches. “For the ICU. I have a family member up there.”

“O-okay.”

There’s only one person at the nurses’ station, a man, a doctor, who is regarding him with cold curiosity as Simon comes striding over, your name on his lips.

“Wait… you’re one of the boyfriends, right?” His tags reads ‘MD’ with his first initial and last name. J. Marshall. He holds his hands up in surrender. “I don’t know where she is. She ran out of here hours ago.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Asked to borrow my car and everything, said she…” He’s still talking, but nothing is registering. There’s a high-pitched frequency ringing in the back of  Simon's head, a whine turning to a roar, a tinny sound making the backs of his eyes hurt.

He leans into Marshall’s face, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “Where did she say you could pick it up?”

“S-south station. Get the fuck off me-“ Simon shoves him backward, sending him flying on the rolling chair he was lounging in. “I’m calling security!”

“Don’t bother.” Simon doesn’t look back. By the time the call connects, he’s already on the first floor and almost out the door.

“She came home in the middle of the day.” Johnny’s pacing, hands in his hair, ignoring Simon’s pleas to sit down, calm down. “Lou said she seemed off.”

“Something must have spooked her.” He accedes, staring at a spot on the wall, trying to put it all together. You wouldn’t have run without a reason. After everything, after all this time spent together, building trust, building love, a relationship, it’s the one thing he knows for certain. You’re in danger, he can feel it.

Johnny stumbles, careening to the side, and Simon darts forward, tugging him into his chest, nose in his hair. His breath catches, once, twice, before it breaks into a wet cough, a cracked cry caught in his throat, crestfallen and agonized, and Simon tries to soothe him. “We’ll find her.” They have to, there’s no other option, no other paths that don’t lead to you.

“She’s out there alone,” Johnny shakes his head, “she’s in danger, she must be.” He knows it just as Simon does, knows you like he knows each line in Simon’s palm.

“We’ll find her love, we will.” The rest of it hovers in the air between them, the painful acknowledgment that maybe they’re not so different from your abuser, maybe they’re no better than the man who brutalized you. They’d chase you across oceans, across the globe to bring you home. They’d use all their resources, manipulate systems, act with violence, to see you again. To hold you.

“What if she doesnae want us to find her? What if…”

“That’s not why she left.” Simon’s resolute in his denial of the possibility. You haven’t run away from them. You ran from something, someone, hunting you. “We’ll fix it.”

It’s been six weeks since they’ve seen you.

Six weeks since they’ve seen your smile, the thing they worked so hard to earn, the curve of your lips that you graciously gifted them along with your trust. Six weeks, since they’ve heard your laugh, held your hand, rolled over and felt the heat of your body between them in bed.

The hallway is full of doors, but none of them lead to you.

Their smart girl, so clever, a fox in the woods, a master of camouflage, of stealth. Or, as Kate said-

your girl is ghost. This kind of wipe work is professional level… are you sure she’s a nurse?

In these moments, the quiet dark ones where Johnny stares at the ceiling in bed, he wonders if you’re more. If you held out on them, this whole time, if there’s something else.

It’s ridiculous, he knows that, but the ache in his heart demands answers, explanations, things he can’t provide.

“Close your eyes sweet boy.” Simon kisses his neck, thumb stroking circles into his collarbone.

“She’s out there somewhere, Si, on her own.” His voice cracks, Simon’s arms tighten.

“I know.” A phone buzzes on the nightstand, and Johnny jolts, heart leaping in his chest.

It’s a text from Kate.

>Finally got the footage.

[thebestsetter]

He has never been afraid of dying.

Death doesn't fright him. He sees it as a natural part of the cycle of life. One must be born, live their life, possibly reproduce so their species can keep on existing and then die. All animals, be it a big magnificient whale or a little insignificant ant, have to do this too. This is what they all have in common (and honestly, it's beautiful how all animals have to experience this. It brings humans and animals closer).

Everyone dies, be it the sinner or the saint, the rich or the poor. Death doesn't discriminate people. It just comes and takes everyone (which is kinda funny, since people think that money or looks make them different from the other. They don't. We're all equal. The bullet that kills the powerful is also capable of killing the weak). And frankly, he's okay with that. He knows it'll happen.

Given his work condition, he knows he's more inclined to die than the average person. Everyday, he has to go out there and risk his life, saving hundreds of people he doesn't even know and sometimes not even getting a "thank you" back. It's frustrating, but it's not like he's giving up. Before he dies, he wants to make this world a little bit better. It probably won't be much, but he still wants to feel useful. He wants to feel like he did something good.

"Oh God! You're okay! You're really okay! I was so worried about you!"

He doesn't fear death. Which is why he doesn't understand why he feels like crying when you visit him at the hospital he was staying at after a mission that went wrong. Death doesn't scare him, so he's not quite sure why his hands tremble when they reach to pat your head. He shouldn't react like this. He's never reacted this way before

"Please, don't ever do that again! Never ever!" Your grip in his waist tightens to the point where his lungs are burning for air, but he still doesn't want you to let go.

"You have no idea how scared I was. When the hospital called me saying you were here, I felt like my mind was going a hundred per hour! Please, don't die..."

How can you ask him this? You both know it's impossible. He's going to die one day, it can't be helped. You can't escape death's claws. No one can escape their funeral. You're torturing him. You know he doesn't like to lie to you. He can't just say "I won't die" cause it's simply not true!

"Please don't die" you repeat, and his hands movement comes to a halt "Because I'll be lonely if you die. Don't leave me alone, please."

And suddenly, it all makes sense.

He still isn't afraid of dying. But suddenly, the mention of death leaves an itching feeling at the back of his throat. It makes him sick thinking about you going on with your life, possibly mourning over his death for a long time (he doesn't ever want you to be sad, especially not because of him. Strangely, a sick, twisted part of him wants you to cry when he dies. To be sad. To not move on fastly. He quickly supresses those thoughts though) and then completely forgetting him and starting a new family (this thought makes him sick to the stomach. He feels like a very bad guy when thinking about how he doesn't want you to find another man to replace him. You always said he was irreplaceable after all).

He will forever be someone who was, not someone who is. He'll be lost in time, a name you'll mention once or twice on a conversation while smiling and thinking about the good times you had together.

He'll never hear your laugh and your voice again, will never take you out on extravagant dates and have movie nights watching silly movies and laughing at the special effects. Leaving you alone in this dangerous world feels almost criminal.

Death doesn't make him feel bad. Having you forget him after he dies makes him feel like absolute shit.

And so, even though he can't promise you that he won't die, he can promise one thing. He grabs one of your hands in his, looking at you as serious as he can be.

"You won't ever be alone." He says, and you feel like crying. He then smiles weakly "I promise. I love you. Our love is too strong to be stopped by death." He kisses your hand and then quotes the same sentence he uttered at your wedding day "Remember? 'And if death do us apart, I promise to find you in every other timeline.'"

And just like he did that day, he props up in the hospital bed and kisses you.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, ITADORI YUJI, Gojo Satoru, Inumaki Toge (or maybe I'm just a glazer ☹️), Nanami Kento (idk, I just feel like it fits him), TODOROKI SHOTO, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Ejirou, Izuku Midoriya, Aizawa Shota, HAWKS + any character you think fits this!!

~ A/N: this can be read as a sequel of another fic of mine. It also can be read on it's own though (but please, do check the other one if you're interested!!). Also, you can see some Hamilton songs' references here and there (cause I'm a theater kid 😔) AND this was inspired by a line in "Cowboy Beebop"

Masterlist

[cybergirrll]

fuse

hamzah x reader

synopsis- power goes out in your apartment complex, your friend hamzah who lives on the floor above you stops by in the middle of the night

fluff?!!! friends to lovers?!! (p.s. i personally think if you listen to pretty girl by clairo while you read it makes the whole thing a lot cuter)

-

about 5 minutes ago, you’d woken up for no apparent reason. you figured you’d drift back into your previous ever so peaceful slumber, but you were wrong.

so now, annoyed at your minds inability to fall back asleep you stared at the wall, mindlessly observing how the moonlight ever so slightly lit up the back of the curtains, the drapes allowing the softest light to mix amongst the darkness the room withheld.

usually when you awoke in the night like this, you fell back asleep almost immediately, having no memory of it in the morning. this time however, your heart fluttered in an exhilarating way. maybe it was the overload of coffee you had that morning, or maybe it was the boy upstairs.

hamzah lived on floor 3 in apartment A. you lived on floor 2 in apartment A. you’d met about four months ago, when there was a mix up with the mail addresses and you were getting coupons for cat litter. quickly, you became great friends. you were kind of lonely, with your friends living on the other side of town, and him being alone most of the time with his two cats. you loved having movie nights, going grocery shopping together at the store down the block, pet sitting red and blue, meeting on the balcony, complaining about your annoying neighbors, talking about movies, music, games and everything. it was one of the greatest friendships you’d ever had.

however, in the past week, something felt different. you tried to suppress the growing attraction that swelled your heart, twisting your stomach with butterflies whenever you saw him. it was so corny you felt sick. he was only a friend, you’d never even thought about liking him like that before but it crept up on you so suddenly, like an unexpected wave that hit you from behind, knocking you over and drifting you out into the cerulean blue sea. you weren’t used to feeling like this. so, you ignored it.

he was the last thing on your mind when you went to sleep and the first when you woke up in the middle of the night. you couldn’t help it. he was so awkward but in his own way where it was funny and sweet and so charming and hes so gentle and nice and so funny and he laughs at all your jokes and makes you laugh and his smile was so cute and his hair is adorable and he’s so smart and cute andUuooaagghhhh my god. he was driving you absolutely insane.

you felt so nervous to be around him, like he might sense what’s in your eyes and then you would implode right then and there. when he talks to you about how he used to be so depressed living on his own and how it got better but he still feels that empty void in him sometimes, you just want to kiss him on the mouth right then and there and tell him everything’s going to be okay and that you loved him so much and you wanted him to be happy forever. these kinds of thoughts kept you up the past few nights.

you checked the time on your phone 1:15 AM. welp. you were already up. you leaned over, clicking your lamp on. the bulb didn’t light up. you clicked it off and on again and still, there was no dim glow you hoped for. you peered down at the wall where the lamp was plugged in. “hmmm.” you got up and flicked the light switch by your door, your overhead light unresponsive.

a soft knock on your front door.

you were creeped out now, sure you were about to have some true crime documentary made about you. you waited for a moment, another soft knock. it wasn’t in your imagination. taking another deep breath, you slipped out of your room and over to the front door. you peeked through the peephole, relieved, and a bit nervous, to see hamzah.

you opened the door. “you scared the shit out of me.” his eyes looked sleepy, curls unruly. “sorry,” he smiled softly “i just wanted to check on you. i think a power line broke or something.” you stared at him for a moment, gripping the door a little tighter when you realized you were only in your underwear and an oversized t shirt.

“um- yeah. yeah, i’m okay. why were you up?” you tugged your t shirt down a little bit to cover the tops of your thighs. thankfully his gaze stayed fixed on your eyes. “i was editing a video, and then uhh- everything went dark. yeah.” he chuckled softly

“yeah you look tire-“ “why were you up?” he blurted.

“oh- i, no sorry what were you saying.”

“oh nothing,” you giggled a little.

“i just woke up in the middle of the night, couldn’t go back to sleep.”

he nodded, smiling softly, a little flustered.

you two stood there for a few quiet moments, just looking at each other. you felt so fluttery, like you were in a dream. maybe it was the eeriness of the situation, the fact that it was one in the morning and he was at your door like he’d usually be during the day. you weren’t sure if you should invite him in, or if it was a stupid idea because he looked tired. but then why was he here? it was almost the middle of the night and it’s not like a power outage would wake you up, so he would’ve assumed you were asleep.

he smiled softly at you and turned to walk away, taking a few steps before you ran out and grabbed his hand. “wait.”

he turned around, his eyes wide and soft in the darkness of the hallway. shoot. now he was looking at you and now you had to explain yourself but you don’t even know why you did that, you just couldn’t let him leave. you were still holding onto his hand

“stay.”

“you want me to?” hamzah’s voice was gentle, soft, drizzling down your spine like warm honey. he was talking to you this way, his eyes glimmering, so relaxed, so sleepy, so dark, so him.

you nodded, calculating your next moves in your head. this moment felt so perfect, you didn’t want to let it slip through your fingers.

you could lead him inside, just to go back talking again like the friends you were but something about this, standing in the hallway now made you want it to last. you wanted to capture this moment and keep it in a jar and live in that jar forever, you wanted to pour whatever was in that jar into your tea every morning, hoping it gave you that same unreal feeli-

his hand in yours. he squeezed it softly.

without thinking he laced his fingers with yours, slowly led you back inside your apartment and closed your door. you turned to face him, your back against the door. he moved closer, big brown eyes peering into yours, trying to figure something out.

you just looked and looked at him until he smiled at you. he’d never been like this with anyone, really. but he liked this feeling with you. you place your hand on his shoulder, awkwardly moving up to the side of his neck.

his hand fell down to your waist, other hand still holding yours tightly. he looks at you, a little nervous. you nod. he mumbles your name softly, hand fisting the side of your cotton shirt.

“you’re my favorite,” he mumbles again, under his breath. you bury your fingers in the back of his head and gently pull him closer until his nose brushes against yours. you can tell he’s a little nervous.

you kiss his lips softly and then pull away a little, looking into his eyes. he leans back in, hand cupping your face as he kisses you again. he was so warm and gentle against you, afraid you would shatter if he wasn’t soft enough with you.

he didn’t think he was much for affection, but the way you sighed against his mouth when he kissed you made him want more of you. he wanted to kiss you all day all the time forever. god he liked you so much. how did he go so long without this?

you pulled away a little, forehead against his. “hamzah i-“ a car alarm starts blaring outside, red headlights pulsing and flashing faintly from outside, piercing the dark. you hear muffled chatter and complaints from outside. hamzah pulled away, glancing towards the window and muttering something about bad timing.

“i um- i should head back to my place.” he shoved his hands in his pockets. you open your mouth to speak, hesitating and then just nodding. “okay, yeah um-“ you slide off of the door and open it for him. he looks at you quickly and mumbles a “night” before he slips out of the door and you close it behind him.

you slide down against the door, knees tucked against your chest on the floor. the car alarm finally died down outside. what were you even supposed to do now? go back to sleep?

-

hope u enjoyed!! sorry if this totally sucks 🤧

[pankowperfection]

His to Keep

Warnings: slightly dark JJ, branding, oral (f receiving), possessive JJ, 18+

A/N: haven't written anything in a while so please be nice. Unedited

You'd hurried to keep up with him as he ran away from the council meeting, the intent to cause some trouble clear in his eyes. You knew you shouldn't leave him alone which is why you found yourself standing idly by, watching in equal parts awe and horror as he took his rage out.

You'd never seen him like this, so reckless and angry. You hated to admit it but a very small part of you was extremely turned on at the sight of him losing control.

After what felt like hours you had finally convinced him to head to your secret hide out, the perfect spot to lay low until the heat died down.

He was pacing back and forth, clearly still extremely upset about what had gone down.

"I am just so sick of this shit y/n. I never get to keep anything, it all always manages to slip right through my fingers."

He still had that wild look in his eyes. Sweat coating his tan skin, hair perfectly messy. He'd honestly never looked sexier.

"That's not true J and you know it," you attempt to reason with him. "Just look. I'm still here and I'm not going anywhere."

He gives you a dark chuckle, shadows dancing in his blue eyes in a way that makes him look nothing like the care-free surfer boy you were used to dealing with.

"Right. I'm sure it's just a matter of time before you leave too. Everyone always does."

He turns his back to you, leaning into the window frame and watching for any signs of trouble below. The way his shirt is clinging to his muscular back has your thoughts racing, desperate to find a way to calm him down.

An idea starts to form in the back of your mind, the image of him with the flame from the lighter dancing in his eyes flickering through your head, reminding you of the heat that had flushed through your system while you watched him take his own twisted sense of justice.

"I'm not going anywhere JJ. Let me prove it to you."

You quickly walk over to him, fishing around in his pocket before finding the lighter. You can see the questions dancing through his mind, wondering what you could possibly be up to. You hold it up between the two of you, knowing what you need to do to prove your loyalty.

"Mark me. Brand me with your ring so that everyone knows that I belong to you. That you own me. Permanently."

His pupils dilate, the black almost overtaking the blue as he scans your face for any kind of uncertainty. When he doesn't find any you watch the hunger take over. His lips are on you in an instant, tongue tracing the seam of your lips before demanding entry as he walks you back to the couch.

He quickly comes down on top of you, one hand tangling in your hair to angle your head just how he wants. His mouth leaves a blazing path down the column of your throat, nipping and sucking deep bruises into your skin. You know your panties are ruined, a few kisses from JJ and you could already feel the band tightening in your core.

"Fuck J, feels so good. I need you."

You feel him smirk against your skin, making quick work of your flimsy crop top to continue his handiwork. Each breast gets equal attention, teasing licks and kisses over your nipples before he sucks harshly, bruises forming instantly from the intense pressure. The build up has you babbling nonsense, begging him to please do something.

"Such a good girl f'me y/n," he whispers into your ear, his ringed fingers slowly climbing up the sensitive skin over the inside of your thigh. The cool metal makes you shiver, goosebumps spreading as he starts to slide down your body. Your knees part for him on instinct, hips arching up in search of the friction you desperately need.

He peels your shorts and panties off in one smooth motion, settling onto his knees between your parted legs. His broad shoulders pin you in place, not a single chance of getting away which only makes you wetter. You're unable to look away as his mouth trails up higher and higher, his warm breath tickling your aching pussy.

Without breaking eye contact he slides his signature ring off his finger, holding it with the end of his shirt before holding it in the flame from the lighter. The sight itself is enough to have you clenching around nothing, the warm colors from the flames bathing his tan skin in an orange glow.

"Eyes on me sweetheart," he commands, leaning down to lick an agonizingly slow stripe from your hole to your clit. Your body trembles at the simple touch, bolts of pleasure shooting straight to your pussy.

He wastes no time getting to work, his skilled tongue knowing just how to drive you crazy. The flattened surface of his tongue flicking over your clit has your eyes threatening to roll, legs starting to shake with how close to your release you are already.

At the exact right moment he presses the hot metal into the skin of your inner thigh. His free hand joins the mix, two fingers roughly thrusting into you. The pleasure mixed with the pain sends you right over the edge, falling apart with a scream as you watch him brand you.

The way his eyes are glued to his mark on your skin is one of the hottest things you've ever seen. His breathing is almost as ragged as yours, the tent in his shorts a tell tale sign of just how much he enjoyed marking you as his. By the feral look in his eyes you knew the night was far from over, hoping you had enough energy to show him just how devoted you are to being his.

[bokunoheros]

ཐིཋྀ KINKTOBER - day 23 corruption : tomura shigaraki

warnings : DARK CONTENT, afab reader, non-con, mention of the word r*pe, somnophilia, no quirks, reader and shigs are co-workers at a boring 9-5 job, gagging, kind of bondage?, stockholm syndrome?, this shit is sick and twisted btw

word count : 880

🐙 note : i’d let him rape me sorry yall im so normal about him

tomura shigaraki was an interesting character; he was never really on time to work and he always performed sloppily at his job. to be honest you weren’t quite sure how he wasn’t fired, perhaps it was because your manager was his adoptive father. despite that, it was obvious the poor man had a crush on you, he wasn’t exactly good at hiding it. he’d often stare at you as you passed by or he’d linger by your desk more so than others, chatting you up about nothing in particular. his presence was always overwhelming, as though he was dangerous and not to be trusted, something about him simply made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. if someone told you what he would do to you, well you wouldn’t really be shocked but you should’ve seen what was coming, you should’ve been more careful, you should’ve taken precautions to prevent what happened, but sadly, you didn’t realize until it was too late.

it started off subtle, little things you would notice; like how your bedroom door was always open even though you swear you closed it, or finding your underwear laying around your house after it had gone missing. however, tomura’s admiration for you grew, so much so that he couldn’t stop himself from making advances on you behind the scenes. he’d find himself breaking into your apartment while you slept or were out running errands. doing nothing but being in your home for hours was enough to satisfy him. like a total creep he’d just pretend he lived there, he’d sit on the couch and watch TV or drink some water from your fridge, even sometimes when he was feeling brave he’d sit beside your bed and watch you sleep. often in times like those he would let his mind wander, wander to places about your intimate life. he’d wonder to himself if you were a virgin, if you like taking his cock like a pillow princess, if you were good at sucking dick. every once and a while, he’d even masturbate to your sleeping body, lying there helpless and peacefully.

but for tomura, today was a very special day; today was the day he decided he would make a real move on you. he’d finally work up the courage to try and advance to the next stage with you. it was a typical day for the both of you, work was slow and there was too much typing to be done on your computers. as per usual, shigaraki would wait by your desk in the morning to greet you and would ask you every question under the sun about the presentation you were working on. it was a long and grueling day, once you got home you shoved your shoes off, threw your briefcase down, and flopped on the couch with a heavy sigh. you ended up falling asleep without realizing it, being too exhausted from the day to bother showering or taking your makeup off.

you don’t know what woke you, if it was the sharp sting in your lower abdomen or the strong grip on your waist. you awake to find shigaraki lingering over you, a sadistic and creepy smile on his face. you almost screamed but couldn’t when you realized your mouth was stuffed full of your own panties. tomura was inside you, thrusting in and out at an animalistic pace. you tried to squirm out of his hold but couldn’t when you noticed his other hand had yours held tightly above your head.

you closed your eyes and squeezed, hoping, praying that this was just some sick joke and that this wasn’t happening to you. you wished that it couldn’t be true, that tomura shigaraki didn’t just break into your house to rape you as you slept. the pain was unbearable, the way he pushed himself into you left an ache between your thighs, his drool leaking onto your tits that were pulled out of your blouse.

“you’re so wet for me, pretty. you love how i fuck you right? doesn’t it feel good?”

he was taunting you, the sick bastard broke into your home and violated you and now he had the nerve to ask if you were enjoying it?

“please—please let me go, it hurts, it hurts!”

your screams were muffled by the gag in your mouth, all you could do was wiggle in his grasp and stare up at his enveloping gaze. his ruby eyes stared into your soul, you couldn’t look away despite the way they burned into your being.

yet somehow, against all logic, it started to feel… almost… good? the feeling was painful but almost pleasurable and suddenly shigaraki’s twisted evil smile turned you on, you found yourself smiling back at him with the same disgusting demeanor. your screams of pain turned into moans and whimpers, you found yourself squirming more because of how good it felt then the pain of it all. tears welled up in your eyes, from the awful situation? because it felt amazing? because the man you knew as nothing more than a coworker was invading your entire being? you had no idea but the tears spilled over and tomura licked them away.

“don’t be sad baby, just enjoy it.”

[queers-gambit]

Talk Shit, Get Hit

prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader characters are ALL aged 18 years old

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.4k+

note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.

warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.

PLEASE NOTE -

this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical. this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent. this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.

DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.

Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.

However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.

The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.

Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. She’s been known to break a few wooden cooking spoons over your head, steal the money made from babysitting, even cashed-in your inheritance - pawning all of your dead grandmother’s jewelry. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.

Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.

And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.

It was a match made in heaven. Or hell.

You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.

He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.

Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.

He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.

So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.

That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.

You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.

However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.

It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.

Today simply hadn't been your day.

After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.

Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.

However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.

As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.

Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.

Keyword: most.

Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.

Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.

You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.

"The fuck you want, Brittany?"

"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"

"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."

Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."

"Excuse me?" You snapped.

"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."

You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"

"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"

"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."

Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."

"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."

Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."

"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."

She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.

You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"

Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.

Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.

"FIIIIIIGHT!"

"GIRL FIGHT!"

"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"

Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.

In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"

"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"

He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"

"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "

Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.

"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"

He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).

Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.

"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.

"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.

"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "

"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"

"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.

"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"

Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"

"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.

However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"

"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.

Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.

"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.

"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"

"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."

"Might be."

"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"

"It doesn't matter, Billy."

"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."

"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."

Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"

"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."

"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"

"Well, you're not even letting me try!"

"'Cause it's redundant!"

"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"

Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."

"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"

"I told you, they approached me."

"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."

"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.

"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."

"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."

"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."

"There's no point - "

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"

"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."

"I'd like to understand how this happened."

"It won't change anything."

"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"

You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."

"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."

Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.

"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"

You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."

"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."

"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."

"Right, okay..."

"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."

Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."

"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."

"We'll get you outta it."

"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."

"You said she swung first?"

"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."

"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."

You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."

"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."

"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."

"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."

"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"

"Nah, they'll probably find you - "

The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.

"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.

He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.

"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.

"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."

"No?"

"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."

"See? That's good, huh?"

"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."

Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."

Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."

"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."

You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."

"Something else happen?"

"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."

"You reported your mom?"

"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."

Billy frowned, "Jesus."

"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."

"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.

"What about Neil?"

"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."

"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."

Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.

When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.

You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.

"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.

"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.

"No, but I could've done more."

You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"

"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."

"What good would that do?"

"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."

"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."

"You already do, baby."

"Let me do more, princess."

"You can't fight every battle for me."

"You could let me try."

"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."

"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Never had a boyfriend before?"

"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."

"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."

"Ain't no other choice."

"You could let me in more..."

"You're one to talk."

He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."

"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."

"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."

You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."

"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."

"You're so romantic."

"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."

You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[luveline]

Can I request Eddie and R tending to each other’s wounds (given they both survive the demobats in the UD)?

ty <3 fem!reader, 1.4k 

cw canon typical violence

“You’re sweating like crazy.” 

“Eddie, that’s the sort of thing you don’t say to a girl,” you say, hands shaking hard as you ruffle through the duffle bag at your side. Your knees burn like they’re on fire, your arms raked with claw marks, but Eddie’s been minced. If you hadn’t climbed your way back to him with the makeshift flamethrower at his feet, Eddie would probably be dead. Scorched demobat is a gross smell. 

“What are you so scared of? It’s like, running down your cheek,” he says. 

“Shut up,” you say, glancing back, hoping Dustin will be right behind you. You hadn’t stopped to make sure he was alright. What if he’s hurt too? “Seriously, just don’t talk. You’re gonna bleed to death and die and your last words are gonna be about how sweaty I am.” 

You peel back a soaked square of gauze from his waist and smash a clean one overtop to soak up the pooling blood. Eddie gasps in agony, writhing away from your touch, but to his credit, his voice is strong as he says, “Shit, true. I can make them better. How about, um… oh. You’re smoking. Like, seriously gorgeous. That better?” 

Your eyes sting as you turn your face to your shoulder, cupping his cheek, his blood wet on your fingers and staining his skin red. “How would you know? It’s dark out.” 

“I’ve seen your face in the light hundreds of times. I know what I’m talking about.” 

He would’ve been turned to mulch without your rescuing. There are split cuts all over him, it’s awful, and you won’t be able to fix him yourself here, but you don’t have to. You just need to stop his bleeding and help him deal with the pain until Dustin makes it through. The two of you can drag him to safety. 

Maybe the best way to do that is to let him tease you. “You really think I’m pretty?” you ask, pressing another piece of gauze over this second one, wincing when he lets out a pained gasp. 

“Are you kidding?” 

“I thought you liked, you know, the really pretty girls, like–”

“You are a really pretty girl, are you kidding? Don’t fish for compliments.” 

You shake your head, laughing, half-terrified. The blood isn’t slowing. “Eddie, I have to press down harder, okay? I’m sorry.” 

“Just do it,” he says. You dig the heel of your palm into his side. “Fuck!” 

“You’re really not gonna like this next part,” you warn, pushing his legs flat to the floor. 

You climb over his thighs and sit on his lap, hand twisted to cover his wound and the other peeling the paper covering off of another sterile square of gauze. Eddie swears like a sailor as you squeeze down, the majority of your upper weight being pressed to his open wounds. It would be an uncomfortable sensation without the cuts. You know it’s torture. 

“Oh, god,” he says, “I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

“That’s a great reaction,” you say, lifting the edge of the leftmost gauze. The blood pools but doesn’t gush down his side. You sigh in relief. “Oh, thank god.” 

“Maybe don’t say stuff like that sitting on my crotch.” 

“Are you for real?” You meet his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You’re really thinking about your dick right now?” 

“Of course not, I’m a gentleman, but you’re kind of on top of me and it’s been a really hard week.” 

You burst out laughing. He gags in pain and turns away. 

The cavalry arrives not long after that, though it feels like hours. Together, somehow, you drag Eddie back to the gate, and things get a little blurry after that. 

—

You’ve never been so tired in your life as you are right now, but you’re so relieved that the world has taken on a golden quality, and Eddie looks golden too. 

His hair is wet. You think Wayne might’ve washed it for him over the bath; it’s been greasy for a week while his stitches started to heal up, and he spent it in Steve’s bed. The only good thing about having absent parents apparently is being able to harbour a fugitive without being noticed, and anybody else who couldn’t go home without explaining their injuries. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks. 

“Mm.” You scrunch up into yourself on the couch, cradling your arm where it aches to your chest. 

“You’ve been sleeping all day. Figured I’d make sure you weren’t in a coma.” You think about poor Max. He must see your wavering expression, sitting on the couch by your legs with an apologetic smile. “She’s doing even better today. Sinclair thinks she was squeezing his finger, so that’s something.” 

“Can’t believe all that stuff really happened,” you mumble, the blanket pulled over your chin muffling your voice. It’s a wonder he can hear you. 

“Feels fake, right? I keep forgetting about it when I wake up, and then I have to stand and feel my stomach try to split open and remember I was bat chow.” He nods to your arm. “Still hurting?” 

It’s nothing compared to his. Your cuts didn’t need stitching, but the were deep still. You’ve only had the butterfly bandages taken off yesterday. The skin aches where the scar tissue is forming. “Sort of itchy,” you say.

“Yeah?” He pulls a little white tube from his pyjama pants hesitantly. “Maybe I can help?” 

“What’s that?” 

“Non disclosed ointment. Pretty sure it’s the good stuff from Mike’s girl’s government friends.” 

They’re gonna clear Eddie’s name, apparently. So far they’ve done a whole lot of nothing while Hawkins falls apart around you. Well, besides the drugs. They’ve given out plenty of painkillers. 

Eddie shuffles closer to you and takes your arm into his hand. “Her name is Eleven,” you say. 

“I know.” He pushes your sleeve up over the bump of your elbow to expose the worst of your scarring. 

You think he’s aware of what you did that day to save him. He’s been achingly nice to you since he woke up. Even when he couldn’t walk, he’d been shouting down the stairs from Steve’s room to check if you were alright on the couch. Usually met with a chorus of Shut the fuck ups, it had been sweet, if a little embarrassing to have to call back. I’m okay. Thanks! 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he says. 

You watch him uncap the ointment and squeeze a ball of it onto his finger. It’s semi-translucent, smelling of arnica with a bit of kick to it. He turns your wrist gently in one hand and begins to trace the lines of your scars one by one, as gentle as anyone’s ever touched you, his pinky finger suspended and shaky as he draws toward the crook of your elbow.

“Well, don’t leave me waiting,” you say eventually. 

“Right, just. I’m trying to be braver. It’s not working in my favour yet.” 

You laugh. “No, really?” 

“But you saved my life. Everybody knows it. You and Henderson saved me, and I can’t make it up to you. This,” —he smooths ointment over the ridge of your cruellest scar— “is permanent. And scaring you like that, I mean. I shouldn’t have gone back in, and I should have kept running, it was selfish, trying to do a good thing and…” He holds your arm in his hands and meets your eyes. You don’t see a trace of the shrill, loud boy you’d spent the last two weeks with. “Getting you hurt.” 

“I got hurt trying to save the world,” you say. “‘Cos, you know, not everything’s about you…” 

His smile is slow as molasses and doubly sweet as he wraps his arm behind your shoulders. He’s careful, you’re both fragile right now, but he squeezes you and laughs warmly against your ear and he’s back to the Eddie you remember. “Everything is about me. It’s totally about me, babe, and you’re just jealous.”

He rubs your back. 

“You know,” he adds, hand trialling lazily to the small of your back, where it stays, “I wouldn’t be here without you. So if you need anything, just let me know.” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, pulling back. He kisses your cheek as he does, his hands falling on top of yours. “Alright. You’re still smoking hot, you know that? The scars are sick. You’re cool now.” 

Your fingers twitch against his palm. “Thanks, Eddie.” 

[lo1k-diamonds]

Be as it must 💜 Part 5

"Now, calm down. Whatever happens, I’m with you."

PAIRING: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega(f)reader

SUMMARY: You're getting really tired of being whisked away. It's time to put a stop to it.

WORD COUNT:  4.6k

GENRE: ABO, strangers to lovers, fated lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: kidnapping aftermath, confusion, mentions of abuse

A.N. A huge thank you to @moonleeai for the beta read💜 I couldn't help including everyone 💜 We're nearing the end and the last part is fire 🔥🤭

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | < Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >

The ringing in your ears was the first thing you noticed as you came to, making you groan in discomfort. Your mind was too hazy to realize why you felt this way, but then your wrists were released, and you snapped your eyes open.

You sucked in an anxious breath, forcing yourself to face the lights blurring your vision. You were getting sick and tired of all this bullshit kidnapping antics! You rubbed your wrists, now free, and felt the soft pillowy couch under you, but it did nothing to soothe your annoyance. If Jungkook thought this shit was funny—

You stiffened, facing the man in front of you, who was extending a glass of a transparent liquid in your direction. 

“Here.”

You frowned as you observed his features, but you didn’t recognize him. Interestingly, he was wearing a designer white suit, and you clenched your jaw. Before, you were too dazed to recognize the musky buttercup invading your nostrils, but now you knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that man was an alpha.

He waved the glass in front of you, and your features twisted just the slightest, displaying your anger and suspicion. You didn’t care who this guy was, but you could instantly tell he was part of the problem. Not only did you want nothing to do with any other alpha or Family, but you also were not a pawn to be pushed around in a stupid alpha game. Did Jungkook lie about even that? It seemed like the kidnapping tradition was up and well.

“You’ll feel better if you drink some water,” he smiled, keeping his offer.

You pursed your lips, sniffing discreetly to confirm that it was water, indeed. Then you looked into those almond-shaped eyes and took the glass with a quiet thank you. It could be the death of you, but your instinct just told you he was nice.

As soon as you drank, he sat and leaned back into a matching armchair with a grin beaming warmth, “So it is true.”

You finished the water and lowered the glass, weary. He could smell your designation, same as you, so there was no point in beating around the bush. “Where am I?”

“The Jung tower,” he smiled affably, and your brow furrowed. If that was supposed to mean something to you, it missed the mark.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Jung Hoseok, at your service.”

Your lips twitched; you sincerely doubted that. Otherwise, you’d be at Jungkook’s apartment right now, not there, next to the head of the Jung Family.

“What am I doing here, Mr Jung?”

“Ahh, that’s hard to explain,” he laughed a bit embarrassedly, then leaned forward. “Maybe we can figure it out together? What’s your name?”

You told him and answered his questions about where you came from, why you were in Seoul, and what the last thing you remembered was. “They injected something,” you said bitterly, rubbing your neck. “And next thing I know, I’m here, talking to you.” He nodded gravely, and you sighed, “I understand your alpha traditions are prehistoric, but one would think your generation would know better than to act like Neanderthals.”

The way he burst out laughing with his hands on his chest made you smile, suddenly not feeling like you were addressing your captor, but a friend.

“You’re absolutely correct, and there’s no one else better to say it!”

He grinned and his phone buzzed, prompting him to text something hastily.

You licked your lips to ask softly, “So… are you going to let me go?”

“Certainly, you’re not a prisoner,” he assured before typing something and putting his phone down.

“And you won’t… harm me?”

“Of course not!”

His wide eyes conveyed shock, and you believed him, though you still reminded him, “But you could. For power.”

“Ah…” He nodded, and his expression became almost solemn, “I could, but it would just lead to more issues. And besides, you’re the omega. You can just tell me to stop, and I’d have a hard time.”

You tilted your head, “But an alpha’s voice is absolute.”

He grinned, “That’s true, but what about an omega’s voice?”

You shuddered and looked down, “So the stories about cutting their tongues or gagging them…”

“Some of them true, surely,” he agreed sadly. “A ruthless way to shift the balance between designations. An alpha’s command is incontestable, but an omega’s plea is undeniable to these alphas. They were seen as a weakness if they could talk.”

“But then, how would they be used as a weapon?”

It was likely a disadvantage that your curiosity sprung out like that, but he satisfied it, “What would you do if your mate was in trouble? Soulmates tend to be very protective, and alphas are probably the worst,” he laughed, rubbing his neck. “Then, don’t forget the worth of blood. An omega's child will always carry the alpha’s designation, so it keeps the line strong.”

You couldn’t bite back your bitterness, “Well, serves you well that you started disappearing in droves, then.”

“Ouch!” He laughed heartily again, “Lessons were surely learned.” His phone buzzed in his hands and he smirked, “Still, it was an honor to meet you.”

He got up with an extended hand for you to shake, and you scurried to do the same, a bit confused.

“You give me the hope that my mate might also be out there somewhere,” he smiled, shaking your hand gently with a head bow.

Your eyebrow twitched, unclear why he was suddenly sending you away and what you were supposed to do, but then you heard it. Beyond the closed door of that office, you recognize someone’s voice that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

Hoseok let go of your hand, and you leaned in to whisper, “Just make sure you don’t kidnap her when you find her. Doesn’t make for a nice icebreaker.”

That was how Jungkook found you — standing with Hoseok, who was laughing his heart out. You turned to look at Jungkook, your hair falling in long dark waves behind your shoulder, and he raced across Hoseok’s office to get to you. To hold you in his arms, sweeping you off your feet, and burying his face in your neck. The relief flooding him was indescribable; he just couldn’t not hold you close to him, even if he knew he shouldn’t. Even if you were still mad at him and meaning to leave him, his heart hurt without you.

But he had to let go of you, only to be met with eyes that sparkled up at him. He touched your chin and was almost sure you felt the same way as him.

“I like her,” Hoseok grinned, stepping away to give you two space. “Even after being told she has power over me, she didn’t wield it.”

Jungkook nodded, eyeing you again. He had barely come to his senses yet; such a hasty instant was not enough to take you in fully, to make sure you were alright and safe. But he still let you go because he could read in your lowering eyes that it was what you wanted. He was thankful you stayed next to him, though.

Facing Hoseok, though, his anger resurfaced, “How did this happen? How did she end up here?”

“I was contacted by someone saying they had a gift that could increase the Jung’s prestige,” he glanced at you, then back at Jungkook, and his expression had lost all gentleness.

“By who?” Jungkook frowned and Hoseok passed him his phone.

“See for yourself.”

Jungkook frowned; it wasn’t a number he recognized, but he dialed it. Only a few seconds were needed for a man to pick up, “Ah, Alpha Jung. Like I said, a legit omega. Delicious, isn’t she? I hope you’re having fun with your new prize.”

Jungkook was so enraged his face was almost blood-red, “You’re fucking done.”

He shut down the call, threw Hoseok’s phone back, then grabbed your hand.

“I know who that is. I’ll call for a meeting immediately. My Family’s punishment is not enough for this perfidious insult.”

He dragged you behind him, utterly confused by what he meant, and Hoseok nodded and gave you a soft head bow as you left. You barely had any time to take in your surroundings, recognizing only a few posters on the wall, which reminded you that the Jung Tower housed multiple studios and productions.

Jungkook dragged you inside the elevator and hit the underground button before pulling you into his arms again, “I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to push him away, not before, and not now. You were also relieved to see him and touch him again; the way you relaxed in his arms defied the meaning of soothing. Your very soul seemed to ease with his spicy scent tickling your nose, and you pulled him closer.

“Why does this keep happening?” You whispered near his ear, and he pulled away to face you.

“Because we’re all fucking stupid brutes,” his eyes glistened as he brushed your cheek. “I should have increased security around you, this is my fault.”

You grabbed his wrist with a sudden realization, “What about Mr Seung?!”

“He’s in the hospital, he’ll spend the night there, but he’s fine. It was just a drug, he’s not injured.”

You nodded, then closed your eyes with a grimace, “I’m so sorry for him, I dragged him into this.”

“No, this is not your fault.”

Your gaze was hard, “I’m the omega.”

“And everyone else needs to fucking get on with the times,” he said harshly, pulling you closer by the waist. 

Yet your eyes drifted, “Maybe it is best if I stay secluded in the village…”

“No, no fucking way,” his tone hardened, making your sad, tired eyes raise back again. It was enough for him to calm down a little, “This is not your fault, and I’ll make sure you get to live the life you want to live. I promise you, we’re going to handle it right now,” his finger brushed your skin so endearingly your eyes watered.

“I know you mean well, but you can’t control everyone,” your tone was soothing as you brushed your thumb over his pulse. “Jung Hoseok was nice, but what if the others aren’t?”

“They are. I might not be able to control everyone, but together, we can deal with this. Just trust me,” he glanced at your lips as the elevator slowed, and your expression held skepticism, but you nodded.

“Sir?”

Jungkook’s eyes lingered on your lips, but then he let go, grabbing your hand instead. He turned to one of his bodyguards awaiting you two at the underground parking lot and gave orders while he took you with him. You didn’t want to let go of his hand, so you followed after him and inside the car that drove away swiftly.

You wanted to trust Jungkook, if nothing else, because your heart seemed to lean on him so much. The car drove you as he made a series of phone calls, but with his arm around you and your head on his chest, you found yourself ready to close your eyes and reset. Everything was alright as long as he was right there.

You didn’t manage to nap, though, because minutes later, you were approaching an extravagant skyscraper; you gasped, the tallest in Seoul. You knew only what everyone knew about it — it was the headquarters of some of the richest financial companies in the world, rumored to own the whole of Southeast Asia in their pockets.

This time, the car stopped right in front of the main entrance, and as you exited the car, taking support from Jungkook’s hand, another car stopped behind yours. Hoseok exited that vehicle with a smile and waved for you to go ahead. Jungkook brought you inside surrounded by his bodyguards, as you saw other cars stopping until a big mass of muscle prevented you from seeing anything anymore.

“Alright, how do you feel?” His long fingers drew your chin up, but he frowned before you could answer, “You look pale. Maybe we should take a moment. Do you want to drink something? Go to the bathroom? Eat? Maybe a chocolate would—”

“Jungkook—”

But your protest fell on deaf ears, “Gosh, what I am saying! I should take you to a hospital first, this can wait!”

His hand let go of your chin to grab your hand, but before it could, you threw your arms around his shoulders and cupped his cheeks, “Stop. I’m fine. You said you’d handle it right now, and I trust you.” Your heart skipped with the proximity, but you were too entranced to withdraw. “I’m ready, so let’s do it.”

You wondered if the proximity hit him too because he stayed quiet, observing your features with fascination. It was only because of the nearing commotion that his eyes snapped beyond you, prompting him to grab your hand and drag you away again.

“What is the maknae doing?” 

Someone chuckled with a perfect, gorgeous grin often featured on billboards, and someone shorter with rose-blond hair replied, “The scent is goddamn intense.”

His fingers raked the luscious waves, and Hoseok smacked his shoulder, “Right?”

“I think he’s hiding her,” a baritone teased, a boxy grin following suit.

“I’d hide her too,” the tallest shrugged, adjusting his shirt collar.

“Let’s get on with it,” an impatient one voiced, shoving his hands inside his pockets, and Hoseok hurried to massage his shoulders.

“Eager to meet her, huh? Don’t hide it, we all feel the same,” he grinned, despite the other’s stink eyes and chuckles. “Let’s go.”

You didn’t know what you had to prepare for, so you couldn’t exactly relax. You had smoothed your dress pants and washed your face as much as you could without ruining your makeup, and gone to the bathroom at Jungkook’s request.

You had thrown him a look of disbelief, but he insisted, “Come on, just trust me.”

Raking your fingers through your long, wavy hair, you wondered what exactly was coming, but there was nothing like facing it head-on.

Jungkook was waiting for you and waved a white package in his hand, “I hope you like them, couldn’t find much else.”

You chuckled, “And why do I need Whoppers?”

“Because you’re still pale,” he pouted, taking the chance to brush your cheek.

You sighed but took the package, opening it to start eating it one by one. “So, what are we doing?”

“Meeting some important people,” he also reached inside the bag, and you let him.

“And you’re worried I’ll pass out or something?”

“Do I need to remind you that you were drugged?”

He frowned, and you shrugged, “I feel fine. Tired, but fine.” He didn’t seem to buy it, so you popped another chocolate ball in your mouth, “By the way, did you take a look at the agreement?”

His eyes grew so wide, you started laughing.

“How can you even think about that right now?!”

You smirked mischievously, “Trying to get your mind off things… Worked, didn’t it?”

“You’re crazy,” he grumbled, digging his fingers into the Whoppers package still in your hand.

Soon, he gave up with a pout because the package was empty, and you grinned slyly. You raised your other hand, displaying the last precious cookie ball covered in chocolate.

“I saved the last one just for you,” you crooned, bringing it to his mouth. He parted his lips and took it with glistening eyes fixed on you and pink cheeks matching them delightfully. “Now, calm down. Whatever happens, I’m with you.”

He caught your hand before it withdrew and pressed his lips to your soft skin. You couldn’t have known how your words warmed his heart, the only one that had the power to truly calm him. He was certain of who you were to him, of what it all meant, but what if you decided something else? Someone else? It would shatter his heart. But looking at your genuine smile, he knew that wouldn’t happen.

He did want you to be relatively at ease before he dragged you into the fray. It would likely be very intense for you, and he couldn’t imagine the toll it would take, both physically and mentally. Maybe it would be a breeze, seeing how you were comfortable with Hoseok, but who knew. When he imagined what meeting seven of you would feel like, he always concluded his heart would blow.

Upon exiting the elevator and before reaching the main conference room on the last floor, he still couldn’t stop himself from kissing your forehead. You looked at him with curiosity and a small smile, but he just bit his lip and stepped aside. It was now or never.

You didn’t have time to tease Jungkook about his nervousness; in a split second, he pushed the double doors open. A myriad of overwhelming scents hit your senses so hard you swayed on your feet. Only his hand still in yours kept you steady.

If Jungkook’s heady scent was strong, and Hoseok’s was musky, that unruly mix was all of that amplified at least seven times for each alpha in that room. Jungkook closed the door behind you as he guided you in slowly, and you were thankful he was with you. 

That meeting room had a particular half-circle shape with large windows showing the night of Seoul as the backdrop. Yet, it was not the fact that you were entering the room to stand facing the table that rendered you jittery, but the six men sitting, waiting.

From left to right, one was more handsome and imposing than the next. Your eyes passed over each one of them, your olfactory sense working overtime to discern and associate each smell.

From the right to the left, you started by Hoseok, who gave you a reassuring smile. The buttercup scent wasn’t intimidating and instead served to give you confidence. Next to him, a very pale alpha with sharp eyes and long fingers holding his chin observed you with the abyss in his eyes. His woody, strong, aromatic, resinous smell lingered, especially when you tried to clear your throat.

Next to him, the most perfect man you had ever seen smelled sweet and citrusy, and it easily mixed with every other scent in the room. He was intrigued by your presence, but you didn’t feel threatened, if anything, because he kept throwing looks and smirks at Jungkook.

At the center sat the tallest one, with shoulders so bulky you were forced to acknowledge there were people bigger than Jungkook. His scent, akin to almonds, diffused pleasurably in your nose, contrasting greatly with his sharp, near-draconian eyes. You had never seen such astute eyes in anyone but yourself.

The alpha next to him was sitting with his head supported on his hand with a boxy smile that rivaled the beauty of movie stars. In fact, you vaguely recalled having seen him on TV before. His tones were fresh, albeit sweet, like pineapples. 

Lastly, before the empty seat you assumed belonged to Jungkook was a rose-blond man covering the front of his face with wide, shocked eyes set on you. His scent reminded you of honey and spring, easily taking your senses to another time and place if you let it.

“Can you blame her?” The woody-scented alpha rasped, bringing you to the conversation. His voice was so deep it covered you with goosebumps. “It must be overwhelming.”

“It surely is to us,” his fresh scent matched his gorgeous smile.

“It definitely is,” the last one mumbled, uncovering his mouth. He was likely as sweet as he smelled, but your mind didn’t linger on that.

“But this is necessary,” claimed the center one, and you swallowed, straitening your back.

“Indeed, I want this dealt with as soon as possible,” Jungkook said to your side, and your brow furrowed at the fierce look in his eyes. He didn’t seem nervous, but he surely was angry again.

“Maybe we should start by introducing everyone?” Hoseok suggested, smiling. “I sure wanted to know her name as soon as I met her.”

His quip made everyone shift or grunt uncomfortably, but Jungkook nodded, “That will help.”

You glanced at him, feeling the squeeze of his hand, then faced the table.

“I’m Jung Hoseok, as you already know,” he smiled warmly, and you nodded.

“I’m Min Yoongi,” he said quietly, and you instantly recognized him from all the Grammy media coverages.

“Hello, I’m Kim Seokjin,” he gave you a soft head bow, his heart-shaped lips pursing cutely with a smile.

You frowned just a little, wondering more about his name, when the center, and potentially the leader, spoke up, “I’m Kim Namjoon, nice to meet you.”

You suddenly held your breath, realizing just who you were facing.

“I’m Kim Taehyung, but you might know me as V,” he smiled, quirking his eyebrows.

“Woah, are we saying our credentials?” The blond next to him complained, “How are we supposed to compete with that?”

“Jimin—”

“Just wrap it up,” Jungkook asked, his fingers tapping the side of his leg.

“Right, I’m Park Jimin.”

“I thought the Parks were gone,” you said under your breath, and he nodded.

“Not many of us left, and we like to keep to ourselves.”

“All of you… Shouldn’t there be only four families?”

Maybe you should have thought before voicing such a question, but as usual, you felt pretty lost in all things related to Families and Alpha dynamics.

“Officially,” Namjoon acceded, making you feel comfortable that you asked.

“The public believes only four families remain,” Hoseok explained. “The Kim, Min, Jung, and Jeon Families.”

You looked at each one, and Jin waved his hand, meaning he was the Kim Alpha.

“But in reality, despite a few obstacles to be recognized, the other lines exist,” Namjoon continued, motioning the whole room with a wave.

“Recognized?”

You wondered, and Taehyung grinned, “Some of us descend from bastard lines.”

“Or from non-approved matings sort of lost in time,” Jimin added with a shrug.

“What matters is that we’re all the living Family representatives by blood,” Yoongi established, dark, unsettling eyes fixed on you.

“Now the real question is how you are not in the Omega registry,” Jin mused, rubbing his chin.

You raised an eyebrow, “Is that really that surprising considering there are three Families with living descendants that are also not registered?”

Jin’s eyebrows jumped, and you heard Jungkook hide a chuckle; unbeknownst to you, you had just caused a ripple.

“Seriously?” Jin asked with incredulity. “She’s his. I don’t need to hear anything about it anymore,” he scoffed playfully.

“It’s not forbidden to match Omegas not in the registry with a ruling Alpha, so let’s just get on with it,” Yoongi agreed.

“Wait, we are not here to approve it,” Namjoon argued, glancing at Jungkook. “We’re here to pass judgement on a crime.”

“A crime?” Jimin raised his eyebrow.

“You mean that stupid agreement you have with the Han family?” Taehyung voiced, snapping his fingers, “What is it, to marry the— what’s her name?”

“Han Sunhwa,” Hoseok answered, seeing Jungkook’s bitterness was clenching his jaw shut.

“Right, her?” Taehyung scoffed, “That’s a crime, alright.”

“But we can’t do anything to stop that,” Jin pointed out with a purse of his lips. “Your Family approved it.”

“They’ll quickly annul it once they learn what happened tonight,” Jungkook almost spit, finally raising his voice. “What I want is to punish the Hans for daring to go this far.”

“What did they do?” Jimin asked, glancing at you before looking back at Jungkook. Just then, you knew he was not to be messed with and understood why you were standing there.

Jungkook was waiting for that moment and tightened his grip around your hand, “My Family had hunters searching Busan for omegas, and they found her.” He glanced at you, and there was an apology in the glint of his eyes. “I didn’t even know they were still searching. With the marriage contract and all, I never thought they’d do it, but she was brought to me.” He couldn’t stop looking at you, and every other alpha in that room understood why. “I should have realized the Hans would be an issue,” he admitted, finally facing the others. “At first, Sunhwa wanted to get rid of her, saying she was a fake.”

Five scoffs were heard, along with one, “Ridiculous.”

“Then she stormed my apartment and caused a scene, which was completely inappropriate, but I decided not to say anything. My father is currently overseas, but once he returns, he’ll see to annul the contract and compensate them, so I thought I could just let it go,” he heaved a deep breath, feeling stupid with his own admission. “But tonight, they have fucking done it. They hijacked her car, drugged her, and took her to give her away to Hoseok like a fucking offering.”

Everyone turned to Hoseok, who nodded.

“And I know it’s them because I called the number that made the offer on hyung’s phone. And wouldn’t you know it, it was Sunhwa’s older brother telling Hoseok to fucking enjoy her—”

The bile rising in his throat choked him as he squeezed your hand so tight, you knew the blood flow was cut off.

“Woah, who do they think they are?” Seokjin scoffed.

“The audacity,” Yoongi leaned back into his seat.

“They must think they’re untouchable,” Taehyung mused with a dark tone.

“As though we’re not the ones allowing them to exist,” Jimin added, matching Taehyung with a hint of fury.

“You two found each other,” Hoseok started.

“And you’re meant for each other,” Namjoon finished.

All eyes turned to you, and suddenly, the pressure made gravity almost crush you to the ground. You took a deep breath as you glanced at Jungkook. His lips were a line that almost drew on apprehension, but you weren’t going to deny the truth. That was not why you were silent; it just wasn’t something you wanted to discuss in front of strangers.

You turned to the other alphas and nodded, “I thought you didn’t need to hear anything about it anymore.”

The mood lightened significantly with Jin’s chuckle, and only two people didn’t relax — Jungkook next to you, and Jimin.

“The Han family needs to be punished,” he almost hissed.

“Yeah, can’t have anyone thinking that they can mess with our mates and pretend like nothing happened,” Taehyung supported, holding his chin with his gaze on you.

“Let alone allow them to become elite after such a betrayal,” Hoseok said coldly, and you finally saw how he could be when he was angry.

“They will use this marriage to rule over every other beta family,” Jin pointed out as though it was ludicrous.

“And that’s bad business to begin with, but now we can officially ostracize them,” Yoongi nodded quietly.

They started debating the nitty grits, weighing their options and just how much was enough to set an example and leave Jungkook satisfied, but not an abuse of power.

You stood quietly through it all, feeling slightly off. You agreed no one should go through something like this, omega or not, but everything else was above your pay grade. Effectively, aside from pointing out the legality of an idea Jin threw out once, you stayed quiet, mostly stealing glances at Jungkook. 

You said what you said in front of all the heads of the Families — Jungkook was for you as you were for him. But there was still a lot to talk about. Regardless of what those seven men decided, your heart was another matter, and you were not set on a future; not yet.

[iliketangerines]

wife wife please 🙏 wife hear me out

okay either johnny finds out you got a CAGE tramp stamp and hits yo shit from the back

OR

climbing liu kang like a tree and he holds you up and SPEARS YOU ON THE MEAT

🫶 runs away

climbing the tower

a/n: @partycatty i wanted to get this out a day earlier but oh well

pairing: liu kang x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), slight dom/sub, hickeys, bite marks, blowjobs, deepthroating, wall sex, public sex (you're in the infirmary where anyone could walk in), slight overstimulation, praise kink, not proofread

you’re not short by any means, being a mediocre average height your entire life meant you had blended in with everyone else

well that, and your natural shapeshifter abilities, but after going through an identity crisis in your ripe teenager years, you usually felt most comfortable in your own skin

however, at the Wu Shi Academy, being average height meant that you were actually short

you wonder what they were feeding the other combatants because Johnny, Kenshi, Kung Lao, and Raiden all tower over you by several inches

and none of them let you forget it, constantly resting their elbows on your shoulders and making you their counter to rest on

it had led to quite a few bruises, mostly for Johnny and Kung Lao, but even Kenshi and Raiden had their moments where they teased you for your height

the jokes didn’t make you uncomfortable, not your height, with your shapeshifting ability, you could just be taller than them, but you hadn’t ever felt the need to

unless Liu Kang was around

he wasn’t that much taller than any of them, perhaps just by an inch or two, but still, his height, his broad shoulders, and his calm and gentle attitude had you sweating every time he came around you

embarrassing as it was, the way he towered over you always sent all the blood rushing downwards and for your tongue to twist into knots and for your body to feel as hot as burning coals

if Liu Kang ever noticed the slight demeanor change, he didn’t mention it, simply giving you that gentle smile and a reassuring hand on your shoulder

you’re sure that it would be the death of you, the soft but firm words, the gentle tone, the slight rasp in his voice as he gave orders to all of you

every time his hand touched you, you could never help but imagine his fingers touching elsewhere, buried in your hair, gripping onto your thighs, thrusting into your-

you jolt out of your thoughts as Kung Lao roughly elbows you in the side during breakfast, asking what’s got your head so high up in the clouds

scowling at the monk, you slap at his shoulder and pick up your spoon to finish off your breakfast of congee

he winces at the contact and dramatically drapes himself over Raiden, bemoaning about how his closest friend just beat him so viciously and that he would need a kiss to heal it

Raiden rolls his eyes, but the soft smile playing on his lips betrayed his true thoughts as the farmer turned his head to place a gentle kiss upon the monk’s lips

Johnny sighs from across the table, bemoaning just as dramatically as Kung Lao about saving the smooching for the bedroom, and Kung Lao simply flips off the actor before grabbing on tighter to Raiden, determined to put on a show and piss off Johnny as much as possibly

you just roll your eyes at the love sick sight and tip the bowl back, emptying the bowl of its congee, and you excuse yourself from the table just as Kenshi hisses at Johnny to stop being so overreactive

the start of another catfight begins, and you let out a quick huff of hair from your nose, shaking your head and smiling

absolute idiots, but you loved them all nonetheless

as you walk back, you stare at the ground, counting the tiles your feet step on and dodging the cracks in the concrete pavement, and you think back to Liu Kang

you liked Liu Kang, to say the least, it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out your own lust when you had first saw him, and your feelings for him only grew stronger the longer you had hung out with him

he was kind, thoughtful, and most of all, so gentle and warm, and you snort at the irony of him being warm and being the god of fire

but still, your thoughts veer back on track as you think about him and you

you’re just a mortal, a human, a human with shapeshifting powers but human nonetheless, and he was a god, almighty and powerful and much more experienced and aged

it wouldn’t do you any good to desire him, to go after him, and you had tried to squash your own feelings for him, using your powers to match his height whenever he came around

a feeble effort to try and mitigate one of the reasons you liked him, but it wasn’t doing much good, not when his voice affected you more than anything or the way he held himself or the way that he was just so understanding and willing to listen and-

you barely manage to sidestep someone in front of you as they come into your field of view, and you snap your head up, shooting up in height as an instinctual reaction at the sight of Liu Kang

he cranes his neck to look at you as your head crashes into the ceiling above, and you let out a small groan and slowly diminish in height as you rub at the top of your head

Liu Kang asks if you are alright, and you wave him off, saying that he had just caught you by surprise

you shrink down to match his height and watch as he slightly quirks his eyebrow at you, wondering why you hadn’t shrunk down to your original height yet

shifting your weight, you say that you walk faster with long legs and that you should return your bowl to the kitchen and get back before Johnny and Kenshi get into a fight

the god lightly chuckles, just a small laugh and one barely audible over the slight breeze in the wind and the background of monks chanting in the background, but you think you’re about to fall over as heat rushes to your cheeks

how was he so attractive even just doing a simple thing

you give him a sheepish smile and hurry off to the kitchens, mumbling that you really have to get going, and you don’t notice his eyes following you as you speed walk away

when you come back to the dining room, Raiden sits next to Kenshi while Kung Lao sits next to Johnny, the actor and swordsman sporting congee on top of their uniforms as thy shoot ugly glances at each other while the farmers try and calm each other down

it seems like today would be a long one

training that day goes just as well as this morning, Johnny and Kenshi refuse to spar with anyone else but each other, leading to Liu Kang having to monitor their matches closely

you haven’t changed back into your normal height, and while you aren’t adverse to using your powers for extended periods of time, your skin was starting to crawl with the need to go back to normal

but still, something instinctual tells you to stay tall, to try and reduce your attraction to the god, and so you focus back on your own spar with Kung Lao

the monk smirks at you and beckons you toward him, and you reciprocate his grin before finally lunging at him

it’s a long match, drawn out and long, and unease prickles underneath your skin as you fight him in your changed height

you were used to fighting while average height, easier to move faster, to land lower blows, and now that you were taller than him, you were struggling

still, in the corner of your eye, you can still spot Liu Kang at the training fields, observing and watching you all

so you stay in your modified height and take the blows from Kung Lao, trying to change your strategy to incorporate your height

the match drags on for a few minutes, and you feel proud of yourself for managing to hold on this long

at least until Kung Lao kicks you onto your back with a particularly powerful blow, and your head smacks against the ground

pain explodes in the back of your head, and you groan, feeling your body twitch and change and morph as it struggles to deal with the pain

you don’t realize you’ve closed your eyes until the blurry figure of Liu Kang appears in your vision, blocking out the harsh sun as he asks if you’re okay

even in pain, your brain still manages to change the position dirty, filling your head with images of him bent over you in a different situation, skin sweaty and hot, hair disheveled and lips kissed swollen

he calls your name, and you let out a meek yes, sounding a bit whinier than you had wanted to, and Liu Kang sighs in relief and brings his hand to your shoulder to help you sit up

it burns your skin, the heat off of his palm, and you hope and pray that he can’t hear how your heart starts beating rapidly or how your face grows flush and sweaty underneath his touch

Liu Kang tells you he's going to bring you to the infirmary, turning his head away to briefly tell one of the monks overseeing that they are now in charge

his hands stay on your body as you stand up, the world still slightly spinning before you, and your head sways as black dots swim at the top of your vision

the god purses his lips and starts to guide you in the direction of the infirmary, his feet keeping pace with your now shorter legs

the longer and longer you walk to the med bay, the more your head clears, and the more you’re aware of his hand on your shoulder

of both of his hands on your shoulder and how you’re, at best, shoulder height now

you meekly try and push your way out of a visit to the health clinic, but he stares down at you with a hard gaze, and your protest dies in your throat as you try and reel in your own lust for him

it gets appreciably harder when he sits you down in the cot and inspects you himself, asking you questions in a low tone of voice as his hands move to you head to inspect for any swollenness

your voice strains to sound normal as you try to answer his question, the pain in the back of your head gone and replaced with the feeling of butterflies whirling inside of your stomach and liquid hot lust dripping down into your body

he hums and finishes his inspection, sighing and saying that you should be more careful, that using your powers for any longer than a few hours was something to be worked on gradually

besides, your strengths lay with your smaller stature, allowing you attacks that none of the other defenders could feasibly do

you nod your head, trying to avoid eye contact, lest he look into your soul and found the depravity hiding within

his brows furrow, and he tells you to look at him and to answer him with words, that he needed to make sure you understand

god take you now because you might actually stain the bed cot with how wet you are at his commanding tone of voice

you take too long to answer Liu Kang, and he gently raises your chin up to look at him, your neck straining upwards to look at his stern eyes and furrowed brows as he await your answer

it catches you by surprise, his hand on your face, and an involuntary whine slips out of you at the casual dominance

perhaps it would’ve been better if you had blacked out earlier because at least you wouldn’t be stuck in this uncomfortable situation

your face burns with embarrassment, mouth slightly parted at the fact that you had just whined, and Liu Kang lifts his eyebrows in slight surprise

his hand doesn’t falter, however,  on your chin, and he cocks his head at you, blinking as you try and sputter out words and excuses or really anything

he shifts in his position, somehow now looming over you, his broad shoulders completely blocking out your vision and his thumb slips itself in between your parted lips

damn you and your body because you immediately go limp in his hold, mouth instinctively closing around his finger as you let him just lean over you

a small coy smile plays on his lips, and you’re too focused on trying to snap out of how good this all feels to realize that he figures out why you’ve been avoiding him lately

Liu Kang lets out a gentle huff of air, drawing his thumb out of your lips, but you don’t have any time to whine as he places his large hands on your waist and easily transfers you from the bed cot and into his lap

your thighs spread around his, trapping his legs in between yours, but you feel more expose as he spreads his legs, forcing your own to spread as well

even sitting in his lap, you’re still shorter than him, and he takes full advantage of this fact as he presses one hand into the small of your back to force you into the warmth of his skin as he leans forward, bending your back into a bow-like shape

you can’t think, can barely even breathe as your hands settle onto his shoulders, squeezing at the firm muscle to try and ground yourself into reality

even that grows difficult as he leans his head forward, nose bumping into yours, eyes boring down painfully through you, as if he could hear and see every thoughts, peeling away the layers of your mind to find your dirtiest fantasies about him

Liu Kang breathes out, eyes still focused onto yours, and you look away, turning your head to the side and squirming slightly at just how intimate this all was

he frowns at how you avoid his gaze, and his hand at your back goes to squeeze your thigh while his other cradles the back of your neck, squeezing it like he was scruffing a cat

his chest vibrates as he orders you to look at him, and you can feel something nervous grip onto your heart, squeezing and squeezing as you force your head to turn to look at him

you think you’re going to die because you’re so turned on right now that you can’t even process how Liu Kang clenches his jaw, trying to hold onto the small thread of control over himself

praise falls from his lips, saying that you were so good for following his command, and your hips rut forward of their own volition, desperately seeking for some sort of friction on your aching clit

Liu Kang hums at your neediness, eyes never leaving yours as he squeezes at your waist, and you whine again as you grind against empty air

it’s overwhelming how he surrounds you, the scent of ash and green tea in the air, his eyes boring into your soul, the warmth of his hand on the back of your neck, your thigh

as if the god knows, he leans his head forward to consume you completely, lips moving towards yours, and he pauses, just to let you have a choice to push him away just in case

you surge forward, wanting him to devour you, to completely surround you in his heat, and he groans and leans into you further, arching your back into a strained curve

but the ache of your muscle is negated by how his lips taste you, tongue dragging over your lips, low groans into your mouth that you can barely hear over the blood rushing in your ears

he kisses you like a starving animal, pressing into you further and further, seeking more and more of you until you had nothing more to give and then taking some more

your mind is melting, you’re pretty sure it is, and it doesn’t help when his hand on the back of your neck trails up and threads through your hair, pulling you head back as his lips move to your neck

his lips are soft against the skin of your neck, teasing and soft, leaving fervent kisses along the expanse of it, but you want more and gather what little grasp of your will you have left

you trail one of your hands on his shoulder down and shove it down his pants to grab onto his cock, hand firmly wrapping around it

Liu Kang lets out a loud groan against your skin, sinking his teeth into the flesh, and it makes you let out a choked sound as you try and give him some modicum of pleasure

his tongue licks over the mark, almost like an apology, but you find it a lie as he moves to another part of your skin and bites down again as you continue to try and stroke him

wriggling in his hold, you manage to let out a whiny plea for you to suck his cock

it gives the god pause, and his lips momentarily stop against your skin before pulling back to stare into your eyes again

he lets out a breath, asking if you were sure, and you squirm in his ironclad grip on you and let out a pitiful yes, voice high-pitched and breathy

Liu Kang hums and slowly, almost mournfully, lessens his hold on you and helps guide you on shaky legs down to your knees and in between his spread thighs

he pulls down his pants, intending on taking them fully off, but you’re too impatient and shuffle forward and grab onto his cock, perhaps feeling a bit intimidated at the size

it didn’t surprise you that he was thick, thicker than anything you had ever seen or practiced on, but still, there was a reason you were an earthrealm defender, you never backed down from a challenge

your other hand grabs onto his thigh for balance as you leans your head forward, tongue dragging against the length of his cock from base to tip

the god draws in a sharp breath and forces his hands to stay at his sides, wanting to see how far you would go before he would push you to your limits

you concentrate on the task before you, trying not to get too distracted with how his broad form looms over you and how absolutely fucking soaked you are at the sight

ignoring your own need, greedy to taste him, you wrap your lips around the head of him, tongue pressing into the slit to taste his pre-cum, and Liu Kang’s hands start to burn through the cloth of the bed cot

if you smell the burning linen, you don’t pay any mind, using one hand to stroke him up and down in controlled strokes while your mouth suckles at the tip

so, maybe you were a lot intimidated actually at the size of him, not his length, no that was only a bit above average

his girth on the other hand

you clench around nothing at the thought of him stretching you out, the slight burn, the addicting pressure, the feeling of fullness

Liu Kang grits his teeth, hand twitching and burning through the bed cit as he tries to not to bury his fingers in your hair and force your head all the way down until your nose touches down to the base of curls

humming slightly, listening to the choked moan of the god, you push forward, bringing the tip of his cock past your lips and bobbing your head up and down with the pace of your hand

slowly but surely, you take him further and further down your mouth, until he’s in your throat, and your lips burn and you’re sure that tears are falling down your face

he’s losing his self-control, heart beating rapidly in his chest at the sight of you so debauched, tears running down your face, eyes slightly glazed over as you focus on sucking his cock, and Liu Kang can’t help it as his hand finally leaves the bed to bury itself in your hair

his hand pushes you down further and further, and you let him take control, mind slowly going blank at how he’s filling every one of your senses

your nose buries itself into his pelvis, and distantly, you can hear him telling you to breathe through your nose, to stay calm, that you were doing so well for him, so good for him

your own hands grip onto his thighs, squeezing and kneading to try and keep yourself here and present, but control is slipping as you breathe in the scent of him

Liu Kang breathes out through his nose, as his hand tightens its grip on your hair as he moves your head up and down, trying to stay in control, trying to stay calm

and then you let out a breathy whine as his hips stutter and hit the back of your throat roughly, and the thin thread snaps as his other hand grips onto your head

it’s sinful, the wet sounds coming from your mouth, the way Liu Kang fucks into your throat, how your eyes stare up at him, teary and hazy as you moan

the sound vibrates through him, and he thinks he’s going to cum just like this, down your throat, despite his eons and eons of experience

but he doesn’t want to paint your face or your throat with his cum, at least not just yet, and he forces himself to pull your mouth off of his cock, missing the feeling of you immediately

you look dazed, wrecked, all from him, lips swollen and covered in your spit, drool hanging down your chin

Liu Kang drags you up into his lap and kisses you, wrapping your legs around his waist and digging his fingers into the plump meat of your thighs as he stands up

he walks forward, his lips never leaving yours as your arms wrap around his neck to pull him in forward, and your back finally meets the wall of the infirmary

the god grinds his cock into your clothed pussy, two layers too much, and he bites back a growl at the obstruction

balancing you on one hand, arm barely straining with effort, he reaches his free hand down in between you and tears at your pants easily, making you gasp

instantly, both of his hands dig into your ass once again and his cock presses up against your swollen and needy clit

after so long without any friction, you gasp and whimper at the contact, trying to push your hips forward to get more

he denies you, relishing how you squirm in his arms and how your whines grow needier and needier with each passing second

when you let out a small plea, your name hanging from his lips like honey and a sweet please melting into the air, he shakes his head

it would be too much for you, he hadn’t had the time to properly stretch you, to prepare you, and he didn’t want to hurt you

Liu Kang promises you another time, and you whine in frustration, pulling away from his lips with a glare

your thighs tighten around his waist as you lift yourself up just enough so that the head of his cock notches against you, and before he can react, you sink down, choking back your own moan

he should lift you up, get you off of him before you hurt yourself, but he can’t find it in himself to take you off, your pussy sucking him in further and further until your hips finds themselves flush with his

you whine, head buried into the crook of his neck, and he breathes out harshly through his nose, straining every fiber of his being to not lift you up and begin fucking into you

it’s a brutal several minutes as you adjust to his size, taking in deep stuttering breaths as he murmurs into your ear to breathe, that you were doing so well for him

his thumbs rub circles into the sides of your skin as you calm down, and then you finally squirm impatiently on his dick, clenching your pussy around him and forcing a groan out of him

you moan, begging him to move, and Liu Kang tightens his grip on your legs and finally starts bouncing you on his cock, knocking any sense that you might have left in your brain

the lewd sounds of your pussy fill the air with your moans and whimpers, and Liu Kang wants to taste your pleasure, your desperation

he brings his lips to yours again, kissing you, swallowing every one of your sweet sounds as he thrusts up into you, trying to angle his hips to hit that one sweet spot

when you yelp into his mouth, stars bursting behind your eyelids and arms tightening around his neck, he smiles against your lips and fucks into the spot, making sure that the fat head of his cock bullies relentlessly into it

you swear you’re being lifted into the heavens, higher than the heavens actually, pleasure singing through every nerve in your body and your orgasm was hurtling towards you faster than you had ever known

Liu Kang finally pulls away, and you’re sure that you look dazed and already fucked out

in the haze of your pleasure, you almost miss him telling you to do something, and you have to let out a pathetic what, interrupted by a pitiful whine as he fucks back into your sweet spot

he tells you to rub your clit, his voice rumbling through you and straight down as you hear a loud squelch

but you comply immediately, craving your release, feeling dizzy by how he surrounds you, and your fingers rub against your clit slowly and lightly

his eyes are transfixed on the sight, the bud swollen and coated in your wetness, and he tells you to pinch it, to be rough

pleasure already overwhelms you, but you listen, body shaking and hand struggling as you overstimulate yourself, pinching and rolling your clit between your fingers

Liu Kang practically purrs, telling you to keep doing that, to keep listening to him and being so good for him, groaning as he feels your pussy pulse around him in tandem with how you play with your clit

you can’t even warn him as you cum on his cock, keening loudly and rubbing at your clit in tight rough circles as you ride your high

the god just shoves his mouth to yours, devouring you completely as you lose yourself, his hips never stopping, never changing as he fucks you through your pleasure

only when you feel the last of your orgasm dribble out does his hips falter, and he groans into your mouth as he cums inside of you, fucking it deeper and deeper inside of you with each slowing thrust

eventually, he stops, his cock still buried inside of you, and he just kisses you, enjoying how you taste him as well, how you grow more gentle with your lips as your body starts to sag from exhaustion

Liu Kang helps you to your feet, smiling internally when you look up at him and ask in a feeble voice if he could carry you

he obliges, because how he could he not, and picks you up, the bend of your knees supported by one arm while his other arm supported your upper back

your arms wrap around his neck once more, and you tuck your head in against his chest, eyes closing slightly as you mumble that you don’t think you can walk anymore

glancing down at the mess you and he had made on the floor, he’s not surprised and presses a kiss to the top of your forehead as he brings you back to your room

he had you in his arms now, and he wasn’t going to let go

[sugurusbabygirl]

how they eat you out

cw: somnophilia (Satoru), degradation (Toji)

Choso:

He aims to please. Will lay between your legs until you're a crying begging mess. He doesn't believe in using his fingers when eating you out. No, no, he knows how to use that tongue. And he makes sure you know that. He's a chronic people pleaser, putting your pleasure first....every single time. He'll guide you through your second orgasm, holding your thighs open with a vice grip. All the while he's still fully clothed and painfully hard. But he doesn't care. Your cries and moans are like a symphony to his ears, and he never wants it to end.

"God, you're so beautiful like this." "Think you can do another one for me, baby? C'mon, yes you can. Mmm, there's a good girl."

Kento:

Oh boy. After a long hard day of work, Kento wants nothing more than to take care of his girl. You'd want to treat him, having dinner ready for him when he gets home, but he has an entirely different meal in mind. With no more than a grunted greeting, he'd be tossing you up onto the counter and down on his knees before the front door even closes. Strong hands shoving your panties aside, gripping your thighs to translate his fiery passion to you.

"Fuck....m'sorry, darling. Just-mm-need you." "Been thinking 'bout you all day, darling. Maybe I'll call in sick tomorrow, hm? Spend all day with you. How does that sound? Ah, ah, use your words."

Megumi:

He wants it to be perfect. Every. Goddamn. Time. He'll look up at you with those alluring eyes, tongue nestled between your folds, and have the audacity to ask if he's doing okay. Won't add any fingers unless you explicitly ask him to. You just sound so sexy when you're desperate, who can blame him? Lord help you if you ask him to stop, because unless you say the safe word, he won't do any such thing.

"Want me to what? Sorry, couldn't hear you, baby. Gotta speak up." "Another finger? But you're already shaking. You really think you can handle it?" "You sound beautiful. That's it, say my name again."

Satoru:

He's literally obsessed with you. The way your back arches when he flicks his tongue over your clit. How you whisper-scream his name as he slides his fingers through your wet folds. The gentle tug you give his hair, getting tighter as you get closer and closer to the edge. But he's especially obsessed with having you first thing in the morning, before your eyes even open.

"Shit, y/n. So wet f'me even when you're sleeping? Dirty girl." "Hm? Oh, awake already? Mm, don't worry, baby. Just relax."

Suguru:

He's ready to pounce at a moment's notice. If you do so much as swing your hips a little too much as you walk by him, he's tying up his hair and you know you're in trouble. He doesn't even want full on sex all the time, just some time between your legs and he's good for another couple hours. Like a starved man, he'll twist and slide his tongue in ways that have you breathless in a matter of seconds. He'll spew obscenities until you're shaking and crying, then go back to whatever he was doing like nothing happened.

"So fucking sweet, love." "Thought you could prance around in that new skirt and I wouldn't wanna tear it off you?" "God, you're gonna be the death of me." "Need this pussy like fucking oxygen."

Sukuna:

Obviously uses it to get himself off, I mean, come on. Loves to make a night out of it. Ties you up, spread eagle to the corners of the mattress. Blindfolds you, gags you with your own soaking panties. You know the safe word, so he doesn't dare stop. Not after the first orgasm....or the second....or the third. Plowing you through wave after wave of endless ecstasy. Begging doesn't work. Crying for sure doesn't work. Everything seems to spur him on.....

"Such a needy baby, asking for more when I've already given you three." "Oh, you want me to stop? I just don't think that's true, princess. Look at how wet you still are. Go ahead, taste yourself on my fingers. Suck."

Toji:

Mean, mean MEAN. But so very loving at the same time. Knows that his insults only get you off faster. He loves nothing more than to have you sprawled out on the couch, naked, just because he asked you. Your fingers gripping his hair like your life depended on it, pushing him deeper into your needy, pulsing cunt. There's not a feeling quite like it in the whole world.

"All this just for me? Oh, darling you're spoiling me." "Such a good fucking slut, hm? Love it when I hold you down like this, don't you?" "Good sluts get three fingers. You wanna be a good slut, right, darling?"

Yuji:

Baby boy just wants you to be happy. Studied you like a final exam the first couple times, learned what you liked and what you really liked. He loves the way your eyes roll back when he rubs circles over your hardened nipples. How your legs start to shake right before you cum. How speechless he can make you after just a few gentle licks.

"Yeah? That feel good, baby?" "God, I love you like this." "No, no, please don't pull away. Let me give you another one, please?"

masterlist <3

[sunny44]

The breaking point

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Teammate!reader

Warnings: arguments, crying and maybe other things

Summary: Max and Y/n, longtime teammates with a complicated relationship, find themselves in the midst of a heated argument that pushes their bond to its breaking point. As emotions run high, Max says things that he shouldn’t leading him to hurt the only person that matters to him.

I’ve known Y/n for years, and from the very beginning, our relationship was anything but simple. On the track, we were the perfect team, almost like we were made for each other. We pushed each other to the edge, always trying to be faster, stronger, better. But off the track, things were different. At the start it was just us not liking each other and then as time passes I started to like her, and as moras time passed I started to feel different e about her. When she was away from me I wanted her close and when she was with me I wanted her closer.

And after that I realized that I was in love with her, but there was always this tension between us, like an invisible wire pulled tight, just waiting to snap.

Today, that wire snapped.

It all started in the paddock. We were in the middle of discussing strategy, something that should have been routine. But for some reason, things escalated. Maybe it was the stress of the season, the constant pressure to perform, the fact that from being the top team and always winning races we were in fifth and sixth place in the last few races, or maybe we were just tired. But whatever it was, it made us both say things we shouldn’t have.

“I’m sick of you always blaming me, Max!” Y/n’s voice was sharp, cutting through the noise of the garage like a knife. She stepped closer, her eyes blazing, and I could see the anger in her eyes, the frustration that had been building for who knows how long. “I’m not the one that made the car a piece of shit in this last few races.”

I should have backed off. I should have taken a breath and calmed down because deep down I Ken I would snap at her even if I didn’t wanted to. But instead, I let my own anger take over.

“And I’m fucking sick of you and your bullshit! I wish I never met you!” The words flew out of my mouth before I even realized what I was saying. As soon as they left my lips, I knew I’d crossed a line. A line we’d never crossed before.

The moment the words were out there, I wished I could take them back. It wasn’t true—none of it was true. But the damage was done. Y/n’s face went pale, and I saw the shock in her eyes, like I’d just slapped her across the face.

She stood there, frozen, her chest heaving as she tried to process what I’d just said. I’ve seen her angry, frustrated, even upset, but I’ve never seen her like this—completely stunned, like I’d just ripped her heart out and crushed it.

When she finally spoke, her voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear her.

“Is that really how you feel?” Her voice trembled, and for the first time, I saw something I never thought I’d see—tears in her eyes.

My stomach twisted into knots. I wanted to tell her no, that I didn’t mean it, that it was just the heat of the moment and that I loved her. But my throat felt tight, like I couldn’t get the words out. All I could do was stare at her, my mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix this.

Y/n blinked, and a tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. She quickly looked down, avoiding my gaze, and I could see her fighting to keep it together. She was the strongest person I knew—nothing ever got to her, and she never let anyone see her cry. But now, because of me, she was on the verge of breaking.

I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. Why did I say that? Why did I let my anger get the best of me? I knew how much she meant to me, how much I needed her, and yet I still said something so cruel, something I didn’t even mean.

When she finally looked up at me, her eyes were filled with hurt, and it cut me deeper than anything else.

“I never thought… you of all people would say that to me.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but the pain in it was deafening. “I knew you didn’t like me but that was cruel, even for you.”

I tried to move closer, to say something, anything, that would make it right.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean it.” I said, but my voice sounded weak, even to my own ears. I reached out toward her, but she pulled away, putting more distance between us. It was like a punch to the gut.

“Don’t.” she said, her voice sharp, cutting through me like glass. “Just… don’t.”

She turned away, her shoulders hunched as if she was carrying the weight of the world. She started walking toward the dressing room, her steps quick and determined, like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Panic rose in my chest. I couldn’t let her leave like this, not when she didn’t know the truth.

“Fuck… No! Y/n, wait!” I called after her, my voice cracking with desperation. I started running after her, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed her to understand that I didn’t mean what I said. I couldn’t lose her—not like this.

She didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down. She was almost at the door when I finally caught up to her. I reached out, my hand brushing against her arm, but she jerked away from me like I’d burned her.

“Please, Y/n, just listen to me.” I begged, my voice breaking. I could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but I fought them back. She needed to know how much she meant to me, how much I regretted what I’d said.

Y/n paused, her hand resting on the door handle, but she didn’t turn around.

“Why, Max? Why should I listen to you? So you can hurt me even more?” Her voice was so quiet, so filled with pain, that it made my chest ache.

“I didn’t mean it.” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I was angry, and I said something stupid. I don’t wish I never met you—I could never wish that. You mean too much to me, Y/n. More than you could ever know.”

There was a long silence. I could see her shoulders shaking slightly, and I knew she was trying not to cry. It was killing me to see her like this, knowing I was the reason for her pain.

Finally, she let out a shaky breath, her voice barely audible.

“I never thought you’d hurt me like this, Max.” She turned to face me, and the look in her eyes nearly broke me. She looked so small, so vulnerable, and it was all my fault.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” I said, my voice trembling. “I’ll do anything to make it right. Please, just give me a chance.”

She looked down at the floor, her expression conflicted.

“I need time,” she said eventually, her voice tinged with exhaustion. “I just… I need to think.”

I nodded, even though the thought of being apart from her, even for a little while, made my chest tighten with fear.

“Take all the time you need,” I said softly. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Y/n nodded, then turned and walked through the door, leaving me standing there alone in the corridor. I stared at the closed door for what felt like an eternity, my heart heavy with regret.

As I finally turned to walk away, I made a silent promise to myself. I would find a way to make this right, no matter what it took. Because Y/n wasn’t just my teammate—she was the one person in the world I couldn’t imagine living without.

Bonus scene!

Y/nusername instagram stories

“Rewatching old races, getting pretty and working”

This will have a part 2, if you want to be tagged let me know in the comments

[bettysupremacy]

Steve-o

Summary: Steve thinks you’re very pretty, and desperately needs your number.

A/N: i love Steve. a lot.

The world stops for approximately 5 second when Steve Harrington first sees you. It’s heavy crashing infatuation that has Steve questioning, is love at first sight real?

He’s never been a believer in this sort of thing, you get to know them, you fall for them. At least, that’s how it was with Nancy. You can’t fall In love with a person you’ve never met, you don’t even know them. 

But that’s what Steve found so beautiful, the unknown. 

“Dude, why aren’t you walking?” Robin turns from where she stands, realizing Steve is no longer beside her.

“It’s her, Robs.” He breathes.

“It’s who?” 

“My soulmate, my pairing, my one true love.” He contradicts everything he believes in.

“Oh my god,” Robin groans annoyedly. “You cannot be serious right now, Steve.” 

He nods. “As a heart attack.” 

Papers scatter the Scoops Ahoy wheel table you sit at. They’re filled with words and colorful highlighter. Smart, he thinks, I know she’s smart.

“Get your ass over here and keep walking, we’re gonna be late.” He won’t budge. “God, please, Steve.”

“I need her number.” He shakes his head.

“You need one less late clock in.” 

Steve whines, breaking his eye sight on you for the first time. “Let me have this, Robs.” 

“I’ve let you have 3 late days, one more and Kieth said he’d fire your ass.” 

“Kieth says a lot of things.” He turns his head to her. “How do I ask? Name first? Number? Age?” 

“Well typically you introduce yours-“ 

“Fuck off, Robin, I know what I’m doing.” 

He takes a moment. Maybe he should’ve let Robin finish her advice, he’s never been this nervous to ask out a girl. 

“This level of melodramatic is a new low, Steve.” 

“Fuck off.” This pushes him to walk into Scoops. 

When he reaches the table, it’s an obvious realization that you’re studying. The papers are neat despite thrown around, and there’s a highlighter key next to your elbow. He feels guilty interrupting. 

Be normal! Repeats in his head like a mantra. God!

“Hi,” he starts, he feels like he could throw up. “I’m Steve.” 

You startle. “Hi, Steve.” 

He laughs nervously. Robin rolls her eyes so hard her head tilts back and her hands come up to cover her face exasperatedly. You smile. Steve doesn’t. 

He takes a look around the room awkwardly.  How could he ever stand these blue and red lights? “I used to work here yanno.” 

You nod. “You work in the video store now.”

“That I do.” He bounces in his new shoes, “Wait, have you been in?” 

“Yeah, I come every Saturday.” 

“No shit.” He breathes. You look taken aback, a little confused, a little offended.

“I mean! No shit, I would’ve remembered a face so pretty.”

“Good one, dingus.” 

“Take a walk.” He replies quickly. 

“Do you.. need something?” You ask carefully. His face crumples and something sick in your heart twists. “Not to be rude! I just- English 101 doesn’t finish itself.” 

“English 101! You go to Hawkins Community? I was gonna go, I just wanted a taste of hardworking minimum wage life first” his eyes widen, “not that what you’re doing isn’t hard work!” 

Can the world just cave in on him now? Shoot me.

“She asked a question, Steve-o” Robin puts in. Unhelpfully.

He glares at Robin. “I was wondering if I could get your number? It’s okay if not!” He adds quickly. “Just like- maybe we could go out sometime?” 

Your head spins, pretty boy comes and asks for your number? You can’t mess this up. 

“You like movies?” 

“Uhh duh,” Steve laughs. Robin doesn’t know how much more she can take of this. “Totally.” 

“You pick a movie,” You smile, “and come over Saturday. I’ve got a really big tv.” 

Now Steve may be nervous, but he wasn’t born yesterday. 

“Yeah!” He seems overeager. “Yeah,” he fixes. “I’ll pick out a movie.” 

“Okay.” You smile up at him.

He juts out his wrist. “You can write it.. here.” 

Your laugh cuts through his nerves like a sharp knife. “Yeah, okay.”

Pretty pink highlighter seeps into Steve’s unblemished wrist. He watches you write your number moonstricken. Your fingers press into his skin warmly and something turns in his tummy, you’re so pretty. 

“Well I’ll be seeing you..” He looks at his wrist, “Y/N.” 

“I’ll be seeing you, Steve-o” She takes from Robin. 

He laughs, turning to walk with Robin again. “Steve-o” he mouths. 

Robin is sure to have an aneurism. They were supposed to clock in 3 minutes ago. 

“You happy with yourself?” 

Steve grins, big and boyish. “Yeah, I am.”