#SO HE LEFT BEFORE ASSAULTING HIM BC IT PUSHED HIM OVER THE EDGE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

akitokihojo · 3 years

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Monster - Chapter 16

chapter index

dedicated to @keichanz bc I made her a deal on twitter the other day.

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Inuyasha wasn’t breathing. For all he knew, his heart wasn’t even beating.

Kagome.

The nails of her fingers were pinching into the tentacle with force even the hanyou could see. There were tears beginning to streak her face. She was scared. She was so scared. But, in her eyes, all he could see was how desperately she wanted to be with him. Right at his side, in his arms, protected behind him, it didn’t matter. She just wanted to be with him. Inuyasha’s ears pinned to his head in response, a horribly guilty feeling taking root not just in his core, but in his entire body.

Naraku’s wicked smile grew wider, bearing teeth as a rumble of laughter escaped his tongue.

How could he get to her? Inuyasha needed to move fast. He needed to act now. His sword was too far out of reach, and his claws had already failed him against the disgusting tendrils that held him captive. If he could get his hands on his sheath, it could act as a magnetic force and pull his sword back in. He’d done it before. The problem was, it was clutched within the tentacles wrapped around his hip.

He began to grow frantic. The appendage wasn’t budging, and the puppet’s laughter was only growing further taunting. Scrambling, Inuyasha tried reaching for Tessaiga, extending his hand as far as it would go, scraping his forearms on the rocky terrain as he tried crawling, pushing himself, prying himself free, anything. He wanted to scream at the goddamn sword to come to him. He was wearing the fucking sheath; why couldn’t it work this way? Kagome was in trouble. He needed to save her. He didn’t have time to weasel the sheath out; the sword should obey his command. Inuyasha wasn’t opposed to begging, and if his throat hadn’t had a thick, bulbous lump form in the center of it, he would be openly pleading for Tessaiga to come to him.

“Inuyasha.” Her voice was small, frightened, and if his ears could sink back any further, they would have instantly. That tone from her, that fragile, broken tone was worse than when she yelled. It was like she wanted to say something more, but she couldn’t. The rest of it all was caught behind her trembling frown and large eyes.

He could see it on her face. He could tell what she wanted to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. Not like this. Not here. Not now. If it was only under duress, then not ever. She would only say those words under these circumstances because she’d be giving up. Inuyasha couldn’t handle that form of heartbreak. Not from her, and he surely wouldn’t survive it, himself. No. He could still save her.

The hanyou halted immediately as he heard her gasp, golden eyes flying back to her to find that Naraku had jerked her toward him. Their faces were an inch apart, her tears were gliding down to the tip of her nose with how he held her, and the sick bastard caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Scream for me.”

Inuyasha flashed cold. The monster threw Kagome so violently, and her blood-curdling scream rang in his ears. Everything in him stopped. He was struck frozen. The vital pieces of him shattered instantaneously, and the fragments of who he was pierced his lungs, his heart, his stomach, his arteries.

“No.” He whispered pleadingly.

“No.” He said a little louder, his lungs beginning to pump as warmth gradually returned to him. Kagome wasn’t dead. He could still fucking save her. Fuck this puppet, fuck Naraku. He could still save Kagome.

With a seething rage that quickly boiled over, engulfing him, sending every little bit of his instincts into hyperdrive, Inuyasha reached for his sword again, but suddenly feeling a rush of turbulent, demonic energy soaring their way, he hastily stopped and ducked down. He felt the tight grip Naraku’s tentacle had on him slacken, and without a second thought, Inuyasha shoved the fucking thing off, scampering forward to snag the hilt of Tessaiga and jump to his feet.

“Fuck!” Sesshomaru growled, his knuckles white with how tightly he gripped his own sword. His presentation with it was strong, stoic, and his light, amber eyes glowed with the hint of venomous red.

Inuyasha didn’t have a second to waste to question anything. The puppet’s flesh was mending from Sesshomaru’s attack, and while its attention was on his half brother, the hanyou needed to go.

He raced to the edge, but a sharp smack on his abdomen had Inuyasha flying backwards. Quick enough this time, he stayed on his feet, stumbling where he’d landed, but swift in throwing himself right back into his objective. He dodged the root that had just assaulted him but was caught by another, bringing a lethal growl from his clenched teeth.

“You’re not going anywhere, half breed!” Naraku yelled, yet again throwing him back.

Inuyasha wasn’t going to bother wasting his breath on this puppet. He wasn’t going to entertain back-and-forth’s, or play the insult game, or even threaten the vile creature. What he was going to do was get to Kagome as fast as he fucking could.

The hanyou raised Tessaiga over his head, blisteringly hot as he felt the demonic energy power through his sword, and he swung so hard that the sharp edge of the metal sliced into the ground beneath his feet. His attack damaged the earth as it surged in Naraku’s direction, and just as the assault ripped at his flesh, Inuyasha took the open opportunity to try and sprint by.

It was infuriating how his attempt was, yet again, thwarted. How was the thing so goddamn fast when it was damaged?

“Inuyasha, stop!” Sesshomaru demanded. “Fight!”

“Don’t worry, half breed. You’ll join your wench in hell soon.”

“Fuck you!” Inuyasha roared, swiping his sword at the tentacle that threatened him and chopping it clean off. “Sesshomaru, take this! I have to rescue Kagome!”

“You have to stay!” His brother returned, readying his sword for another attack. “You have to fight!”

“I can’t!”

“You fucking coward!” Sesshomaru shouted, a vein bulging in the center of his forehead. “Fight Naraku!”

“It’s just a puppet! It’s not him! You’re not going to find your precious child with this creep; it’s a decoy! His heart is in his abdomen! Finish him off! I don’t have fucking time for this!”

“Inuyasha!”

“Sesshomaru, if your daughter was the one thrown over the cliff, you wouldn’t fucking hesitate to jump after her! So, why the fuck are you stopping me!? I know you saw Kagome go over! I won’t tell you this again! If you stop me, if Kagome is dead because I couldn’t save her in time, I’m going to kill you, too!” The glower, the radiance in the hanyou’s eyes was positively murderous. He meant what he’d said. Anyone who got in his way from this point further was in the crossfire, and he would swing his sword without hesitation.

Nevertheless, Sesshomaru tried to convey his message silently. He wasn’t sure if his younger brother would receive it; he was daft, and when his vision was clouded by urgent matters, he was unreceptive toward hints. Still, giving it effort Inuyasha was unworthy of, Sesshomaru furrowed his brows a little deeper, his stare unwavering, his hardened jaw unrelenting as he ordered the half breed to trust him. And, to his surprise, it seemed Inuyasha understood. Though his shoulders remained squared, his glare relaxed an ounce, and with extreme reluctance, he turned his fearsome attention back in the direction it truly belonged.

The puppet, now completely regenerated again, began to laugh. “How adorable.” He disparaged. “The two dog demon brothers are going to work together to take down their foe.”

Kagome hit the water. Hard. The air was knocked from her lungs, and large bubbles escaped her mouth as she coughed forcefully. The hit and the current had her disoriented, and though she was trying to regain control over her body in a hasty manner, she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried to kick, to move her arms, it was like she had no proper muscle control and was at the mercy of the unforgiving river.

Desperately, she needed to breathe. Kagome was trapped beneath the rolling water, tossed and turned, and pushed down every time she thought she might be right-side-up. Finally working in her favor, the current pulled her up and she was able to gasp deeply, choked, but she got in some oxygen before her head was thrown beneath the surface again.

How was she going to get out of this? How was she going to survive before asphyxiation stole what was left of her? Already, due to her fight against the waves crashing on her, Kagome felt her lungs begging for air. So easily, her muscles grew fatigued, but she pushed and pushed. Her legs never stopped kicking, though they pumped a little less powerfully. Her arms never stopped grabbing for the surface, though it always felt like it was too far.

Again, the current had some compassion and it brought her up for a short breath of air, pushed her under, then pulled her up again where she was able to swim the tiniest bit. The river was too wild, though. It was too strong. She barely stood a chance against it and Kagome worried that, at this rate, she wouldn’t survive long enough to find shallow land and pull herself ashore.

Something thick wrapped around her core, and she felt herself being pulled. Kagome’s back was pressed against a hard surface, and whatever held onto her had a grasp that refused to let go. She wasn’t fighting it. She couldn’t fight it. Truthfully, she was too dizzy to properly comprehend what, exactly, was happening. Her head was brought to the surface, and Kagome gasped loudly for air, hearing the same from whomever was immediately behind her.

They were shoved beneath the water again, but she could feel herself being guided, pulled, and in an attempt to aid, she pumped her legs as hard as she could. Thankfully, it wasn’t long until her head was thrusted up above the current by the very arms that held her tight.

“Grab onto this!” She was instructed, directed closer to a thick log that was wedged between boulders. “Don’t let go!”

“I can’t!” Kagome admitted, trying but slipping each time. Her muscles still didn’t want to work with her, and the texture of the bark was more slimy than rough, giving her no grip to cling to.

“No, I’ve got you Kagome! I promise!”

“I’m gonna slip!”

“You wont! I’m right here!” He swore. “Just grab on for two seconds!”

She did, latching on as tight as she could as she felt the body pin her to it. Water was flooding over, in their faces, and Kagome had had to turn her head to the side so she stood a chance at breathing.

“Listen closely! The moment we move, we’re gonna be pulled under again! I’m not going to let go of you! Just swim, okay? I’m going to get us to the bank as quickly as I can!”

Kagome nodded in acknowledgment.

“Take a deep breath! Now!”

With a gasp, Kagome released her grip on the log just as she felt his thick arms wrap around her waist again. She was yanked to the right by his force, and with everything she had, she pumped her legs. It was excruciatingly tiring so quickly, it pushed the air from her lungs, and she felt that pressure, that burning, that ache for more oxygen all too soon. She had to last. She had to trust them. Their hold was unrelenting, so she knew they were doing everything they could to help her.

She was brought to the surface, and Kagome coughed violently, finally feeling loose ground beneath her as she tried crawling through the deeper water to the more shallow edge. Those hands never left her, guiding her, pulling her completely out of the throws of dangers, away from the water where she stood on her hands and knees on the smooth surface of rock. The coughs and chokes racked her torso painfully, and a large hand rubbed her back, urging her to let it out as water spilled from her mouth.

“There you go. There you go, Kagome.” He reassured as more of the river forced its way from her lungs. “Atta girl.”

With her chest pumping, not quite done coughing, Kagome glanced up to see Koga beside her, and instantly, she felt a little safer to lean into his touch, allowing her muscles to give in just for a brief moment. The wolf demon gladly supported her, continuing to rub her back as he, too, breathed heavily.

“How did - how did you…?” Kagome sputtered as she sat up again, watching Koga crawl the short way over to the rocky wall and lean his back against it.

“I was trying to sneak up on the fucker. Saw you go over and abandoned it immediately. Jumped in after you.” He admitted, sweeping the soaked, rogue strands of hair that escaped his ponytail from his face.

For a second, she was grateful. She would have died without his help. But, then it was like the situation hit her ten fold, and a new panic began to build. “You should have - you should have helped Inuyasha. He’s -“

“Woah there.” Koga tried to calm her down as she unsteadily attempted to push herself to her feet, falling instantly. She was persistent in her failed attempts, though. Again, she tried to walk, and her muscles immediately gave out. And, then she tried to settle with crawling, but even then, she couldn’t even bring herself to crawl straight, falling off balance as soon as she got going. “Kagome, chill. Stop. He’s fine. He’ll be fine. Sesshomaru’s with him.”

Kagome met him with stricken eyes, a more pressing expression appearing on her face. As if that was further back up to her argument than anything, and the wolf demon couldn’t fight the chortle that escaped his lips.

“No, I promise you, Inuyasha will be fine! Relax!” He insisted, grabbing her waist to essentially pin her to her spot so she’d stop trying to scurry away. “I know it’s unsettling, but Sesshomaru’s after the puppet. Inuyasha dying would mean Naraku won, and Sesshomaru’s just that prideful to want to prevent that at all costs.”

She breathed some, trying to steady herself as she processed what Koga had said. All she could do was hope he was right. Kagome was trembling so bad, she could barely move her body correctly, so what help would she even be right now? She’d only get in the way. If Sesshomaru was there, it was still two against one. At least Inuyasha wasn’t fighting Naraku alone.

“How did you know it was a puppet?” She asked.

Koga presented the bruised cut in the midsts of the heeling process on his left cheek. “We were lucky enough to run into one yesterday. Because of that, we knew the scent. And, we’d caught onto yours and Inuyasha’s, so we ran over.”

“I never considered Sesshomaru the supportive type.” Kagome remarked.

“He’s not.” The wolf confirmed. “He just wants to make sure everything that belongs to Naraku is shredded to pieces. Who cares, though? It works in your guys’ favor.”

“So, you’re traveling with him now?”

“Despite his requests that I burn in hell and leave him alone, yeah. Don’t worry, he’s gotten used to me.” Koga chuckled, but his smile quickly faded as he realized Kagome was struggling with herself. He’d thought she was cold, but the way her fingers continued to shake wasn’t just a shiver. Of course. She’d almost just died. Her eyes were on the rock beneath her, her frown was subtle but present, her cheeks were pale, and as if he had a passage into her mind, he could tell she was worried. “Kagome?”

“We need to -“

“No.” He knew what she was going to say. She was so easy to read right now, and the tears brimming in her eyes basically confirmed his suspicions. “He’s fine. This is Inuyasha we’re talking about. The most stubborn bastard on the planet.”

“I need to help him.”

“He can handle this.”

“I need to help him.” Kagome repeated, more fervently that time.

“Kagome, do you trust him?”

The conjurer looked up at him, a warm tear gliding down her cold cheek. Of course, she trusted Inuyasha. She trusted him more than anybody. It wasn’t even a question she needed to consider, and in reply, she nodded her head.

“Then, have faith in his strength, as well. He needs it right now. You think he’d let anything happen to himself when, for all he knows, he needs to go find you? That fucker doesn’t know when to quit, believe me. He doesn’t know I was there, he doesn’t know I saved you. Inuyasha’s going to be just fine, I fucking swear it.” Koga said, never breaking the contact his bright blue eyes held on hers. Gently, he pushed some soaked hair away from her face, sweeping it behind her ear. His voice took on a softer note then, trying to get her to relax just a little. “I’ll get you back to him. I will. You’ll see. Lend me some of that trust for a little while, okay?”

He was right. No matter how difficult it was to swallow her pressing concerns, her anxiety, Kagome decidedly gave him the respect he deserved and accepted his kindness with a nod. After rescuing her, Koga had earned that much.

She had the saddest pout and the wolf demon didn’t know the first thing about helping her. Poor thing looked like she’d been through the wringer lately, and just barely surviving a near-death experience now topped it all off. Her silent tears meshed with the water she was still drenched in, and for the sake of her vulnerability, he resisted in crossing any boundaries that would potentially make her uncomfortable. No cheek stroking or tear cleaning, no unsolicited, tender gestures, no unwarranted touching.

“You want a hug?” He carefully offered. He was happy with how quickly she nodded, crying just a little harder as it all came crashing down on her. She just needed to ride the worst of her nerves out. It was the comedown from the rush of adrenaline; he knew that stress very well.

Koga scooted a couple inches closer to the conjurer, pulling the woman into his chest so she could slump against him as he rubbed her back. Patiently, he waited for her to calm down, and as she sat up straight and rubbed her eyes clean, Koga turned around onto his knees.

“Climb on.”

The sweat leaking into the gash on Inuyasha’s forehead was burning worse than when the blood got into his eye, the salt in his sweat creating a sizzling sensation. It inadvertently served as a grounding effect, keeping Inuyasha in the present as he stood not too far from his half brother, facing off with the faux Naraku. This shouldn’t be taking so goddamn long, but alternatively speaking, the tick of a second passing felt like minutes to Inuyasha. All it meant was Kagome was getting further and further away, her danger increasing.

Even though Sesshomaru had pinned him with his glare, communicating an urgent vexation that the hanyou begrudgingly felt was important to heed, they were still failing to work together. Inuyasha and his brother had different brands of fighting, and the both of them were domineering in their own way. It wasn’t like combat with Kagome, where they bounced off of one another and utilized each other’s strengths to advance. Not even close. All he and Sesshomaru were doing here was clashing. But, Inuyasha now knew that the only way it seemed they’d make a difference would be for one of them to swallow their pride and follow the other’s lead - and he knew damn well it’d have to be him to do so. Sesshomaru was too proud and egotistical to ever consider being led by another, no less him, but Inuyasha was to the point where he didn’t give a flying fuck anymore. He shouldn’t even be here right now, but since he was stuck, he needed this fight to come to an end.

“Got a plan?” Inuyasha asked.

“Kill it.” Sesshomaru bluntly stated.

“It’s regenerative properties are fast.”

“No, you’re just slow in following up your fucking moves. If there’s an opening, you take it. Your mind is on that girl. It needs to be here. In this fight.”

“I don’t much see you finishing that thing off! If you’re so goddamn fast, seal the deal, Sesshomaru!”

“It cannot be me! Don’t you get it? I’ve faced my puppet and sent my message off to Naraku! He knows I’m in the race! This is yours! If you want him to know where you stand against him, kill this thing, Inuyasha! Rip it apart! Tell him you will not stand for this with your actions! Or, are you actually as weak as your human heart makes you out to be?”

“What is this, a motivational speech?” Inuyasha ridiculed, leaping to the left to dodge a flailing tentacle from the freakish puppet.

“Goddammit, you worthless piece of shit, just kill it!” Sesshomaru fired, swinging his Bakusaiga down to throw an attack at Naraku. His arm disintegrated, part of his chest breaking off as well, but again, his idiotic half brother didn’t move quick enough.

“I don’t have fucking time for this!” Inuyasha yelled, his voice cracking with his fury.

“You’d better fucking make the time! Kagome is dead, Inuyasha! To run after her would be a waste! You have nothing better to do now than to fuck that thing up!”

“She’s not dead!”

“She is dead! There’s no fucking way she’d survive that fall! Do not delude yourself!”

“Sesshomaru, shut the fuck up!”

“Grow up, Inuyasha! Do not die the way father did! Do not die because of the love of a human who cannot even fight for herself!”

Irate, Inuyasha slashed his sword with so much force that the wind even caused Sesshomaru to stumble away. He was seeing red, the boiling of his blood effervescent, physically tingling just beneath his skin, and without thinking, the hanyou jumped for the puppet, shoved his claws through the regenerating flesh, and pulled out a wooden object. Tendon-like tissues clung to the “heart,” attempting to pull it back into his body, but Inuyasha refused to let go, holding firm despite the numerous blows Naraku supplied to his temple, his growl turning into a loud and deep roar as he tore the wood away once and for all.

Naraku’s body, the tentacles, the firm spider legs, the roots that made home all crumbled away with a maniacal shout of defeat that would have caused a chill to race down Inuyasha’s spine had he not been in such an infuriated state of mind. Even so, the heart hadn’t been destroyed. In Inuyasha’s hand, skin began to bubble, grow, sprout, engulfing his fist, but he didn’t blink. The hanyou had dropped Tessaiga to the floor and redirected his path toward Sesshomaru, his glower deep and fearsome.

“I don’t care about making you eat your words. I’m going to shove this down your throat so you choke.” Inuyasha threatened, grabbing the collar of his brother’s shirt. “Solve the problem at the root, right? Can’t talk shit if you’re dead.”

Unfazed and basically emotionless, having not moved from his spot, Sesshomaru reached for Inuyasha’s hand, currently covered completely by the building flesh. The only reason he could guess Naraku hadn’t come back fully yet was Inuyasha’s hold on the heart. There must have been damage slowing it down. Releasing a poison from the tips of his claws, Sesshomaru easily pierced the dough-like skin, penetrating the few inches necessary until he felt Inuyasha’s fist. Gliding his fingers upward, he then found the top half of the heart and snapped it. Instantly, the budding demon died away, a demonic essence evaporating free to disappear in thin air.

Before Sesshomaru could say anything degrading, Inuyasha dropped the crumbled wood and used that same hand to grab his brother’s throat, his claws piercing in at the sides. Swiftly, he stepped a leg behind Sesshomaru’s, shoving his weight back so he would lose balance and topple to the ground with Inuyasha’s direction, Bakusaiga slipping from his hand with a clank. The demon hissed, his growl unable to truly come out through the strangulation, but there was little effort in fighting Inuyasha off, he noticed. Despite that, the hanyou couldn’t free himself from his own clouded mind. He was livid, the storm in his chest violent and raging.

“I am so sick and tired of you belittling everything and everyone around you, you pompous fucking prick!” Inuyasha seethed, ignoring the thrusts of Sesshomaru’s palms against his shoulders.

“Enough!” His half brother spewed through choked breaths, but still did not apply as much force as he should have been.

“Father did not die because of my mother. He died for my mother. I’m sorry that that meant he was taken from you too, but I had as much control over the situation as you did. Do not think less of dad for that, and definitely do not think less of the person my mother was.” The hanyou stated gruffly, pressing his claws tighter against Sesshomaru’s throat. “Her being human didn’t mean a goddamn thing when it came down to the punch. My mother was fierce. My mother was a fighter in her own goddamn way. Come on, Sessy, think about it. You know dad. You think I got my fucking attitude from him?”

Finally, Sesshomaru gripped Inuyasha’s wrist, twisting it painfully to jerk the fucker’s fingers off of his neck so he could breathe. He threw a punch upward at his brother, but to his dismay, the half breed blocked the hit by grabbing his fist and pinning it aggressively to the rock beneath them.

“You’re being irrational! Calm down!” Sesshomaru demanded.

“I find it ironic that you want to mock any kind of love when, if I recall correctly, you’re in love with someone that isn’t even real.” Inuyasha snarled. “Kagura is a mutant created of our enemy’s flesh and sorcery, you goddamn hypocrite! Loving a human is disgusting to you, but what about loving an inorganic lump of clay!?”

“Do not speak of her like this!” Sesshomaru growled.

“Or, what!? Am I offending you!?” The hanyou ridiculed.

“Shut the fuck up, you -“

Inuyasha ripped his wrist free from his brother’s grasp, throwing a punch against his jaw to disorient him before going right back to strangling him. His fingers wrapped around his throat much tighter than before, and it seemed he legitimately held the uncontrollable intent to kill this time around.

“She’s fine, by the way.” Inuyasha said, his voice deadly and low as he leaned in closer to Sesshomaru’s face. “Kagome saw her. Kagome was covered in blood, sobbing, had just lost a fucking friend, and one of the first things she turned to me to say was that your girlfriend and daughter were safe. And, you want to look down on her for being human. That human is so much stronger than you.” His voice picked up as Sesshomaru began to struggle against him, trying to pry his hand from his throat as he dragged in a ragged breath of air. “Maybe not physically, but she’s got the strongest soul of anyone I’ve ever met. Being what she is, you know full and well that that’s more than enough to break you.

“You act as if dying for a human is revolting, but your child, what is she? You can’t fool me into thinking you wouldn’t gladly go in her stead, because I know, just like myself and our father, that you would be happy to die if that meant they got to live.”

“You aren’t thinking clearly. Your human heart - your emotions -“ Sesshomaru grunted through clenched words, forcing his brother’s hand away again. This time, he pinched his claws into Inuyasha’s palms, making it difficult to tear away from. “Goddammit, you imbecile, use your ears! Your nose!”

Inuyasha stopped fighting for a moment and froze. What the fuck was he talking about? The scent in the air was tainted with the ruined earth around them and the leftover stench of Naraku’s puppet. He smelled the river water like they were directly next to it, he smelled his brother, he smelled sweat, he smelled his blood. There was nothing he should be catching onto, and it only felt like Sesshomaru was attempting to distract him.

“Stop! Stop.” The demon ordered as Inuyasha turned to attack him again, gradually relaxing his grip on the hanyou. “Just wait a minute, you fucking idiot.”

The hanyou was confused, but he found genuine sincerity in his brother’s amber eyes. Something he’d never before seen and almost didn’t recognize. Within thirty seconds, he caught approaching footsteps. One person. Heavy boots. The scent of them was muted by water, which was why he couldn’t grasp their presence earlier. Inuyasha’s heart was pounding at a horrendous pace, the blood racing through his veins causing his hands and fingers to quake unsteadily, so he stabilized them by gripping Sesshomaru’s shirt to keep him pinned down in case anything went wrong. Who the fuck was coming their way? It was a demon; he knew that much. Was Sesshomaru warning him of this so they could both prepare for another assault?

Koga was surprised at the rate it took for Kagome to grow heavier against him. At first, she was apprehensive to mount his back, to allow him to carry her. She’d insisted she could walk on her own, but the both of them knew she was full of shit and her pride was getting the better of her. Reluctantly, she’d given in, but was stiff against him. He could tell she wanted to run up the mountain, to be rejoined with Inuyasha as soon as physically possible, but Koga needed to make sure the battle had enough time to finish up before he got her back. If Naraku’s puppet was still around, there was no doubt it would target her in her vulnerable state, and while she would be thoroughly protected, there was no harm in preventing the attack altogether. She’d been through enough for now.

For a moment, he could feel her trembling against him, her fingers clenching against his shoulder, but as his strides stayed smooth and unhurried, Kagome seemed to quickly slump along his frame. Before he knew it, her cheek was planted against his shoulder, her hands were gently holding him, her legs were swaying with his gait, and she finally trusted him with her momentary peace.

He could tell she wasn’t asleep, but at the same time, she was somewhere in a lethargic state. Kagome was neither present nor afar. She’d zoned in her meager relaxation, allowing her mind to briefly rest. Her quivering hadn’t quite fully faded; her fingers still twitched against him. She hadn’t completely stopped crying either, and the only way he could tell that, aside from the subtle twinge of salt coming from her, was the warm tears that leaked from her eyes and onto his shoulder, seeping through his vest. The rest of her was cold, wet, shivers that could barely be differentiated from her anxiety racking her body here and there. Koga hoped his heat was helping at least a little, but he knew the only thing that really would was getting her dry and wrapping her in something warm.

The wolf could hear yelling from a distance, and that, alone, was a dead giveaway that Kagome was too exhausted to currently comprehend anything outside of the context of her mind. Good. If she could hear what he could transpiring between the half brothers, she’d have a fucking aneurysm. He didn’t sense Naraku anymore. Barely even smelled the puppet. So, that meant the worst was over with and he could safely bring Kagome through.

It went dead silent as he approached, the crack of a twig beneath his boot sounding like it echoed in a closed chamber with how the attention was suddenly centered on him. Inuyasha was on top of Sesshomaru, his head bleeding, that blood seeping down his face, his hands in a vice grip against his brother’s shirt, but his eyes darting up to him.

“Sorry, we missed out on all the fun. Or - uh - did we make it just in time for the show?” Koga asked.

The rumble of his gruff voice from his back against her chest had Kagome’s attention slowly rising again. How long had it been since she’d dazed? She barely remembered the hike up, but now they’d stopped. Had he really spoken, or was she dreaming it? She couldn’t even tell if she’d fallen asleep or not. Her eyes blinked open to see they were no longer on a path, and it took a moment to really recognize the scenery around. Lifting her head, Kagome propped her chin against Koga’s shoulder to get a look at who he could be talking to and what was going on, blinking hazily until she saw him.

Inuyasha watched Koga amble into the scene, his hair damp, brown vest and dark pants deepened in shade from moisture that was far from drying completely. Beyond that was a person slouched over his back, and his heart did a flip in his chest. His breathing was already abnormal due to all the physical exertion and emotional stress, but as soon as he spotted the woman Koga carried, his lungs began to take on a different pattern. One of anticipation. One of hope.

Long, damp, black waves became visible as they moved their head, planting their chin against Koga’s shoulder to blink their eyes his way, and immediately, Inuyasha dropped his grip on Sesshomaru and sprinted over to her. Kagome. She was alive. She was okay.

Kagome’s legs and arms squirmed of their own accord, frantically working to free herself from Koga’s supportive hold. The wolf murmured a word of shock from her sudden uprise in energy as he kneeled down to properly release her, and she raced toward Inuyasha, crashing into his arms.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” She rasped before he could ask her to say it, burying her face in his neck as her hanyou hugged her tight.

Inuyasha physically couldn’t speak. He was so overwhelmed by just barely losing her that being able to hold her right now, to know she was alright, had him fighting his knees from crumbling beneath his weight. It was all he could do to thread his fingers through her wet hair at the back of her head and kiss her temple, attempting to communicate with that, but even after doing so, he found it conveyed nothing that he truly wanted her to know.

This should have never happened.

He should have never left her alone in the first place.

He should have been faster. Stronger.

He was so, so, so fucking sorry.

“Took you fucking long enough.” Sesshomaru remarked as Koga sauntered over, holding out a hand for him to take to help him off the floor. Unsurprisingly, the offer was rejected and the dog demon pushed himself to his feet after wiping his bottom lip of a trickle of blood.

“We were washed downstream quite aways. And, I wanted to make sure you guys had ample timing to finish off that puppet. The fuck happened to you?” Koga asked. Sesshomaru didn’t reply, merely shooting a glare at the half breed who was looking over their way, listening in. “No, don’t tell me. Were you being a good, big brother and allowing Inuyasha to let off some steam so that he stayed here? Or, did he actually get the better of you?”

“Oh, fuck off.” Sesshomaru spit.

“You knew?” Inuyasha asked. “You knew Koga went after her the whole time?”

“I figured it out when he hadn’t come up to help. He was climbing the edging of the mountain to sneak in from behind.” His brother replied.

“Then why the fuck would you tell me she was dead!?”

“Use your brain, Inuyasha. I couldn’t tell you anything in front of Naraku. He came here for her, did he not? Therefore, he would have gone stalking off after her if he knew she may have survived.”

Inuyasha actually appreciated that Sesshomaru was tactful enough to cover for the conjurer. It may have crushed him in the moment, but it prevented a chase.

“Also, I could not guarantee Koga was able to rescue her. He’s a wolf demon, not a mermaid. For all I knew, they were both goners.” Sesshomaru said carelessly.

“Thanks, bud.” Koga grimaced.

The hanyou couldn’t even care about that. Sesshomaru wouldn’t openly admit this, so it would be pointless to ask, but it made sense now why he wasn’t actually fighting Inuyasha. He was, for the most part, allowing the altercation to happen so that Inuyasha would stay busy, stay put. He said what he thought would encourage more powerful attacks, and they worked. They were ruthless, but they worked. Inuyasha physically tore the heart from Naraku’s stomach and ended things. And, then he would have ran off aimlessly looking for Kagome had he not been so distraught about what Sesshomaru had said to him.

He was right. Inuyasha had gotten too emotional. But, that was inevitable and it was manipulated to work in his favor.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to feel. It was that Inuyasha didn’t know what to feel first, or if there was even a proper succession to process everything in. Nor did he have the opportunity to think about it before Kagome softly caressed her fingers over his cheek to bring him back to her.

Amber eyes drifted her way, a vibrancy in the irises that grounded her, and his shoulders seemed to soften.

“Your head.” She whispered, moving her fingers to stroke away some blood, but Inuyasha gently grabbed her hand before she could.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. It’s fine.” He quietly said in return. Inuyasha never released her hand, holding it close to his chest, trying to quell the tremors that still ailed her.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Kagome asked, her frown deepening with her concern.

His stomach was sinking. Inuyasha felt so unbelievably heavy, it was a wonder he was still on his feet at this point. Tossed over a cliff, and Kagome was still more concerned about him. Trembling where she stood, but she still attempted to clean the blood from his face. All he wanted to do was kiss her, but he felt like he’d break the moment he leaned in.

In an attempt of a reply, he pulled Kagome back into his chest, placing a soft peck against her forehead. “I’m okay.”

Sesshomaru cleared his throat. They should be grateful he provided a small moment of respect for their reunion, but they had the rest of the night to be sickeningly clingy. For now, and for his efforts, he deserved an answer.

“Inuyasha mentioned you saw Kagura.” His voice was tense, more stressed than he’d intended to come off. He wasn’t typically one to show these sort of emotions, but he found it was becoming increasingly unavoidable when it pertained to his found family.

“Sesshomaru -“ Inuyasha was firm as he was about to declare this conversation wasn’t about to take place right fucking now, but Kagome silenced him with a gentle interruption. One that clearly told him she didn’t mind. Otherwise, she would have stayed quiet.

“I did. I didn’t get to talk to her, though.” She replied, stepping out of the safety of Inuyasha’s arms to stand on her own.

“Then how do you know she and Rin are safe?” Sesshomaru’s fingers furled into rigid fists. Was he lied to? Was he given the inkling of false hope he’d foolishly clung to?

“I overheard her.” Again, her tone was gentle. She knew this wasn’t easy on him, and she could only imagine the pain Inuyasha’s older brother was in. He may be too stoic to show it, but if her little brother was kidnapped by the madman that is Naraku, she’d be devastated. Picturing it from a parental point of view was like putting a blade through her own heart. Not consistently knowing their whereabouts or the state of their welfare had to be excruciating. “Kagura killed my friend, Kikyo. She was another conjurer. One Naraku once loved and feared. I was there while not actually being there, but the details of that part you don’t necessarily need to know. It’s just an explanation as to why I didn’t get to speak with her directly.

“Kagura didn’t want to kill her. She said she only did it to ensure the safety of a little girl. I feel it’s safe to assume that it was your daughter she was talking about. Rin, you said her name was? If that’s the case, which I’m positive it has to be, Kagura’s doing everything in her power to keep Rin protected. Sesshomaru, your family is okay.”

“How long ago was this?” He only looked relieved by a small degree. His shoulders were still incredibly taut and his jaw was hard and set.

“Six days.” Kagome replied. “And, I know you’re thinking anything can happen in that time, but I don’t feel like Kagura would let anything happen.”

“She’s being punished. Now I know why.” Sesshomaru informed.

Her brow crinkled, disturbance twisting her features slightly. “What?”

“We faced a puppet yesterday. That thing told me.”

“But, she did what he told her to do.” She stated, perplexed.

“There’s no use in trying to make sense of Naraku’s actions, Kagome.” Sesshomaru said, his fists still white around his knuckles as he pressed his claws into the heels of his hands.

“Wait, this puppet said the real Naraku was having an episode ‘underground.’” Inuyasha mentioned. “He distinctly warned Kagome not to bring up Kikyo or else the real Naraku could potentially overhear and come through, but that he was essentially torn apart about her death. If he’s twisted enough to mourn for her after plotting it all, he could be twisted enough to punish Kagura for being the one to end her life.”

Inuyasha felt guilty bringing anything up, but the possibility of the truth of the circumstance had to be discussed. He could tell Sesshomaru didn’t want to know too much more, and he could practically feel that talking so much about Kikyo’s passing was salt in an unsealed wound for Kagome. Be that as it may, she didn’t flinch, didn’t look away, but she broadened her shoulders in bracing. She understood it was an inevitable topic and was going to handle it as best as she could, and Inuyasha was proud of her.

“Rin,” Kagome began, carefully watching the demon’s body language. His intense eyes shifted over to her from the side as he had looked away moments ago. His lips were relaxed together, though the most subtle frown of resentment lingered - one not directed her way but still presented for her to observe. “Sesshomaru, Rin’s safe. I’m not just saying that to reassure you. I can feel it in my gut that she’s okay.”

“Does your gut know where they are located?” He asked, scornfully.

“N-no.” She admitted.

“Then, your gut is useless to me.” Sesshomaru declared, shifting on his heel and walking away.

Inuyasha’s hand found Kagome’s back. It wasn’t worth the energy to argue with Sesshomaru over his tactless statement, but watching Kagome’s chest deflate sadly brought a dull ache to sit in Inuyasha’s chest.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” She spoke. “He’s right, how is that supposed to make him feel better?”

“Don’t beat yourself up.” Koga said, still standing near the spot Sesshomaru had left him behind in. “The guy’s great with optimism. If it were literally anybody else, saying something like that would honestly be helpful. You had good intentions, it’s just his choice whether to receive it or not.”

The wolf demon walked over to them, patting Kagome on the head when she gave a meager, disappointed grin, but his gaze met Inuyasha’s. “It looks like you guys have been through hell lately. I suggest you two lay low for a day or so. Keep out of sight. Rest. It’s not gonna hurt anyone if Naraku thinks Kagome is dead. Let him.”

“Koga,” Kagome stepped in to reward him with a kind hug. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckled, rubbing her back before letting her go. “I’m serious. Lay low.”

“Wolf.” Inuyasha spoke, clenching his jaw as he looked at him. His stomach was doing flips and turns, his hands were still shaking, his body felt leadened, and the air in the atmosphere felt like sludge thickening around his shins. As if a swallow would push it all away, Inuyasha bypassed the lump in his throat to do just that, feeling as if he merely managed to mask it all momentarily, and feebly at that. Still, if it weren’t for Koga, Kagome might have died. That needed to be acknowledged. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do it for -“

“I don’t care.” Inuyasha cut him off, his tone wavering as his defenses faltered for a second. “I don’t care what or who you did it for. It doesn’t fucking matter. I don’t care. Thank you for saving Kagome’s life.”

“Wow. Uh, yeah.” Koga nodded, almost bewilderingly. He couldn’t help but be slightly blown away by Inuyasha’s genuine emotions. It wasn’t like he could claim he knew the guy super well, but it’d been a few years since they’d met and this was the first time he’d ever seen Inuyasha in any manner but grouchy. And, he wouldn’t claim the half demon was anywhere near happy at the moment, but this was still deep. “Sure. Get going, dude.”

“Yeah.” Inuyasha agreed, watching as the wolf demon ran off to follow his brother.

He waited a moment, turning to meet Kagome’s stare at the same time she turned to him.

“Are you really okay, baby?” Inuyasha breathed, cradling her face so softly.

“I’m fine. I promise.” Kagome responded, leaning into his touch.

“No. No.” He felt himself choking on his words as he quickly became overwhelmed again. His mind shifted right back to the sight of Kagome being thrown over the edge, her scream, and he pinched his eyes shut. “You fell. It wasn’t like a few feet, kid. I know you didn’t hit the water gently. Tell me where you’re hurt.” He all but demanded.

“Inuyasha, I’m fine.” She insisted, pushing herself passed his hands to hug her arms around his waist. “Yes, I hit hard, but I don’t feel any pain.”

“Your adrenaline levels are still up then.” He excused.

“And, if you’re right and they die down, I’ll let you know.”

“Kagome, I -“ Why couldn’t he say anything? What did he even want to say? What came first? His concern or his apology? His plead for forgiveness or his admittance that he didn’t deserve it? “Let’s head out. I want to get to an inn before nightfall.”

“Inuyasha?” Kagome asked, worried as he pulled away from her and crossed the terrain to grab the bag she’d shrugged off earlier. He didn’t stop, didn’t try to return to his incomplete sentence, didn’t even turn to acknowledge her. She watched as the hanyou kneeled down in front of the bag, pulling out his robe before forcefully yanking the drawstring shut.

“Here,” He offered, setting the bag down at their feet before holding the crimson robe out for her to put on. “This will keep you warm for the meantime.”

Kagome hesitated. Something was wrong. Of course, something was wrong. This must have been just as terrifying for him as it was for her. But, how could she help? She could tell with the hardened expression on his face that he was choosing to shut the problem out.

Still, she tried again. “Inuyasha, what is it? Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I just did.” He sighed. “I want to get to an inn before nightfall.”

“Inuyasha.” Kagome felt that if she pushed him right now, he’d only close off to her more. What he was truly feeling was being hidden behind this wall of an excuse. But, if she prodded, especially too soon, it could have negative repercussions, and Inuyasha didn’t deserve the pressure at the moment. So, with a heavy exhale, she dropped her shoulders, her own defenses, and pushed her arms through the robe he’d been holding open all this time.

“God, baby, you’re shaking.” Inuyasha commented quietly, rubbing her arms as she swaddled up in the garment.

“I’m just a little cold.” She confessed, tucking her hands within the long sleeves. “I’m alright, though.”

“Let me carry you. My body heat will help, okay?”

“If I say no, you’re going to argue with me, aren’t you?” Kagome pursed her lips.

“Yes.”

“Alright.” She sighed, taking the bag to strap over her shoulders as he picked it up.

The hanyou crossed the rock, picking up his de-transformed sword from the ground and sliding it back into its sheath, turning to find Kagome picking up her bow and one surviving arrow. All the others must have been washed away.

“We’ll get you some more.” He promised in way of reassurance.

“Yeah.” She nodded, slipping it back into her empty quiver and securing her bow over her shoulder.

Inuyasha kneeled in front of her, his hands finding her upper thighs as she straddled his back, and as he stood, he hiked her up for better support, clasping his hands beneath her rear so she didn’t droop at all. The dampness of her shirt began to soak through his own, but he didn’t mind. He knew with how quick his blood was pumping right now, his flesh was running hot, so it would help her tremendously.

Kagome cuddled close as he got back onto the path, molding against his frame, and just as a shiver coursed down his spine from her warm breath on his neck, a small kiss in the same spot had his heart jolting. Inuyasha turned his head her way a little, trying to see her affectionate gaze from the side and was gifted with a delicate peck on his cheek. That lump had returned to his throat at full force, making it impossible to speak even if he wanted to. This wasn’t enough for him. Inside, he felt like fire and ice were at war with one another. His mind was racing, and the crunch of the earth beneath his feet couldn’t mute Kagome’s scream of terror that echoed in his ears. Would he ever be able to forget that? Would he ever be able to move on from that look in her eyes? Those tears he saw? He had her in his arms, she was kissing him, and Inuyasha was still weighted with the ungodly fear that he’d lost her for good.

Maybe tending to her comfort tonight would help his heart understand that she was actually okay. Maybe personally seeing to her wounds, if any, and watching over her as she slept would silence this horrible feeling once and for all.

Dusk was disappearing into the shadows of the night, but thankfully, Inuyasha’s nose told him they weren’t far at all from civilization. There was a town up ahead, and by the amount of people he could hear and smell, it was a decently-sized one. Which meant there would definitely be an inn of some sort.

Kagome’s shivering had died down substantially. She was completely relaxed against his back, and if it weren’t for the gentle massage she was giving to one of his shoulders right now, he’d have guessed she’d fallen asleep.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, tone husky.

“Comfy.” Kagome whispered.

Inuyasha chuckled. “We’re near a town. You okay to walk?”

“Mhm.” She hummed, kissing his shoulder when he kneeled to let her down.

Immediately, the hanyou took her hand, threading their fingers and keeping her close to his frame. It was only a little further before the village came into view. There was a tavern near the entrance; he could smell the ale and hear the lively conversation. There were women giggling, but he knew the fake laughter of a harlot trying to make her wage while slapping away the hand of a man who was too cheap to pay.

The sign for the bar didn’t include an inn, and for that, Inuyasha found himself a little grateful. It was too goddamn rowdy, and he really didn’t want Kagome anywhere near the amount of drunken men he knew were inside. Not with how they were currently perusing over the women. Offering themselves or not, the men still treated them as objects, and if anyone was audacious enough to even look at Kagome in the same disrespect, Inuyasha couldn’t guarantee he’d be able to control his reactions.

Down the street a little ways, there was a sign that guided them. Certain shops were to their right, so he rubbed his thumb over the back of Kagome’s hand as he led her down the new road. Finding it, he opened the door for her, allowing her to enter through first before following her to the reception counter and ringing the bell.

A small woman came out with a cheerful smile on her face, swiftly being replaced by a look of startle. Her green eyes widened and her grin drooped into a grimace of concern, brows pinching together in overt question.

Fuck.

Inuyasha had completely forgotten about the dried blood on his face, and how disheveled they both must have looked right now.

“Sorry,” Kagome quickly spoke, keeping her tone friendly. “I know what you’re thinking - holy crap, what the hell happened to them? - right? Yeah, this is my fault. I’m super clumsy, and unfortunately, today my boyfriend was on the other end of my hiccup. Do you happen to have a room?” She asked, feigning believable shame with her lie.

“Oh my goodness, are you two okay?” The girl asked, feeling comfortable enough now to approach the counter and bring out the guest book.

Kagome dropped her head against the table top in embarrassment, and Inuyasha was almost shocked by how well she was pulling off this ruse. She never lied this well with him. She was a stammering mess that looked to the side and fidgeted her fingers, and it was so fucking easy to tell that she never meant a thing she was saying in that moment. But, here? It was like she was a master at the art.

“He was trying to teach me how to shoot a bow and arrow. Somehow, I lost my balance, fell backward into the river, and my arrow nipped his forehead. I lost all of my other arrows in the process, and he had to come chasing after me in the current.”

The innkeeper’s bewildered stare transferred to Inuyasha where he pressed his lips into a tight line and rolled his eyes, nodding to confirm the story. “She sucks.”

“I said I was sorry.” Kagome grumbled.

“Yeah, well, ‘sorry’ isn’t getting us home tonight.” He remarked dully.

She pouted at the innkeeper as if the doe-eyed look was enough to ask her question for a room again. With a sympathetic, and slightly humored, smile, the woman complied, quieting her giggle as she looked at her guest book.

“I’ve got a few open, so you have nothing to worry about.” She said, grabbing her pen. “May I have your names?”

“I’m Sango.” Kagome fibbed. It just felt like a horrible idea to give out their real names right now. If they were going to lay low, then Kagome and Inuyasha needed to stay off the radar. Naraku was after them, and Kagome was presumably dead. Just in case he sent any underlings in the surrounding areas to look, it was a better idea to keep their true identities under wraps. “This is Miroku.”

The innkeeper filled in their names under the room number they were to occupy, then gestured for them to wait a quick moment as she shuffled to the back to grab their room key.

“You’re brilliant.” Inuyasha commented quietly, petting her hair. “You really covered for us there, kid.”

Kagome gave a meager grin in return, one not as bright as he wished he could see, leaning into his touch. Her eyes weren’t meeting his. They were upwards, on his forehead, staring at the gash behind his bags that was already beginning to heal. The innkeeper returned, attaining Kagome’s attention once more, and offered to show them to their room, but she was quick to respectfully decline.

“We can find our way, don’t worry.” She held her hand out for the key to be place in her opened palm, smiling appreciatively at the woman.

Just as they began to walk toward the hall, the innkeeper cleared her throat to catch their attention. Inuyasha met her gaze when she pulled out a small bandage from beneath the counter, sliding it his way over the countertop. With a noticeable grimace, she lightly gestured toward his head. There was a moment of awkward silence before Inuyasha pressed his lips into a tight line, reaching for the offered bandage and taking note of how tiny it was.

“Uh, thanks.” He said anyway, tipping the bandage to her. As if it stood a chance at covering even half of his wound. It’s the thought that counts, he supposed.

Locating the number on the door that their key was associated with, Kagome unlocked it and led the way in, hearing the click as Inuyasha bolted it behind him. She turned around, half expecting him to be ready to let his defenses down, but his shoulders didn’t loosen, nor did his guarded expression quite give. Something heavy was on his mind. Kagome had been terrified, but now she was relieved. She’d thought, at least by now, that Inuyasha would be, too.

The half demon strode past her with nothing but a sweet touch on her shoulder, locating the bathroom and stepping through the door. As Kagome shrugged everything off of her shoulders, including Inuyasha’s crimson robe, laying it neatly at the bottom of the mattress, she heard the water start running from the faucet of the bath.

“Kagome, come here.” He called, and she followed, stepping through to see the tub filling up with hot water.

“Wash up.” He instructed. “Get warm. I’ll be out here if you need anything.”

“Wait.” Kagome said, grabbing onto the rolled up sleeve of his shirt. “Let me at least clean your head.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it later.” Inuyasha declined with more of a disapproving grunt than anything.

Her grip on him didn’t slacken, and she gave an obstinate tug on his bicep. “I’ll take a bath, but only if you let me do this. Come on, it’ll only take a minute. While the tub is filling.”

“Kid, stop worrying about it. It’s closed up already. My head clipped a rock; it’s nothing serious, so calm down about it.”

“Stop.” Her brows furrowed in a slight, reprimanding scowl. “You’re shutting me out, I can already tell. I do it too, remember? It drives you crazy. Why won’t you let me help you? Why is this suddenly a one-way street?”

Inuyasha had stiffened. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it. His mind was an unforgiving place right now, and all he really wanted was a minute alone to gather himself. To sort out the jumbled thoughts he had stabbing him. It was hard to think rationally at the moment, it was difficult to be himself with that pleading look he’d seen on her face replaying behind the darkness of his eyelids every time he blinked. Kagome really wasn’t asking for a lot. He shouldn’t be denying her anything right now. If cleaning the blood off his face was what she wanted, then he had no place turning her down whatsoever.

With an exhale that he used to shove his grievances aside, Inuyasha relented, turning around to sit on the rim of the tub. Kagome reached for the washcloths on the high shelf, pushing to the tips of her toes and snagging a couple. She threw one to float in the water to clean herself with later and unfolded the other, dipping it under the running faucet to wet a portion. Gently, she pushed aside his bangs, lightly tapping the area around the gash to test how sensitive it was. Inuyasha didn’t flinch or pull away, his brows didn’t even twitch in pain, but instead his hands made home on the backs of her thighs, pulling her closer to stand between his legs.

“Does it hurt?” She asked.

Inuyasha gave a small shake of his head, caressing his thumbs over her pants. She could feel his fingers shaking slightly, feel the hot breath he sighed out against her chest. He seemed sad. Kagome had never seen Inuyasha sad before. She’d seen him sympathetic, and maybe sad for her, but never like this. She’d never seen him seemingly so burdened that his shoulders slumped this way. She could be wrong. But, she knew him. And, this version of him was out of character.

Kagome respected his silence, though. She softly rubbed the washcloth over his face, cleaning the dried blood, the dirt, the sweat. He wasn’t lying, it wasn’t as bad as the amount of blood had made it seem. It was already closed, a lightly-shaded bruise marring the immediate area around. With a tender kiss to the center of Inuyasha’s forehead, she dropped the dirtied washcloth to the floor and let go of his bangs, lingering with her affection. His large hands gripped her thighs firmly, a shuddering exhale leaving his lips, and he tilted his chin upward, searching for her own.

His earlier assumption was correct. Kissing her was going to lead to his downfall. Kagome brushed a delicate kiss to his mouth, and it felt as if his heart swelled with unbridled emotions he couldn’t even name. What was he feeling right now? Why did he want to fall apart?

“We made a deal.” He managed to say without waver, planting a scant peck against her bottom lip. “Get warm. Please.”

“Okay.” She breathed with a little nod, allotting him space to stand by taking a step back.

Inuyasha shut the door behind him to give her deserved privacy, find it becoming increasingly harder now to hold anything together. Inuyasha was suffocating in his own thoughts. It was all hitting him like a bull charging at full force, knocking the wind from his diaphragm only to turn around and do it again and again as soon as he was back on his feet.

Kagome is dead, Inuyasha!

That was part of the problem. A percentage of him had believed Sesshomaru when he’d shouted that before. She was thrown off a cliff. He’d never gotten a complete look over the edge. There was no guarantee she’d actually landed in the water; Kagome could have hit jagged mountainside, rock, or landed on the bank, and he was terrified he’d have peeked over then to see her body. Even if he was right and she did land in the river, the current was so heavy that she could have easily drowned. It could have dragged her under, made it impossible to come up for air, and then her lungs would fill with water.

That was it.

Not only was Inuyasha beating himself up for failing to save her.

But, a portion of his heart had already broken at the consideration of her death.

He truly had thought he’d lost her.

Inuyasha fell short of the cushioned chair along the far wall. His back dragged down against the wood, and he found himself sitting on the floor, his legs bent into him, his elbows planted on his knees while he buried his head into the palms of his hands. He should be happy that she was alive, but it was difficult to register that when his heart had already shattered. How could he have let this happen? How could he have fallen short when she needed him?

Kagome wrung her clean hair, noticing a ripe, developing bruise on the inside of her bicep as she lifted it up. How did she even get that one? She’d scrubbed a couple on her legs thinking they were just dirt that was coated heavily, but when she realized the marks weren’t budging and the dull pain wasn’t caused from the aggressive swiping of the washcloth, she left them alone. Thankfully, most of her bruises would be covered by clothing, and it wouldn’t increase Inuyasha’s worriment. Only a few were relatively bad, broken blood vessels and all, but as of right now, they weren’t that painful, and she’d put them away beneath her shirt.

Her shirt that was in her backpack.

Her backpack that was left in the bedroom.

Crap.

Carefully, she reached for her towel, drying herself off as she stepped out of the tub. She ran it vigorously through the ends of her hair, expelling as much moisture as she could until a slight frizziness began to show, and then she brushed her fingers through to lazily sort out her waves. There was still a good chance she could grab her bag without Inuyasha really noticing anything. All she’d have to tell him was to look away, and her hanyou wouldn’t hesitate to comply. He never compromised any of her boundaries, so she was confident she could get away with this if she was quick enough.

Wrapping the towel securely around her body and fastening it at her chest, Kagome opened the door, peeking out to make sure Inuyasha wasn’t in immediate sight. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel worse with her bruises. They happened. She was a human, they were more common on her flesh than his. Especially, when you’re smacked around by a demon tentacle once or twice. But, he was so overprotective sometimes, and it would kill her if any of her bruises made his shoulders sag farther.

The room was still dark, and she heard no movement come from within. Stepping out, Kagome looked around where the bathroom light allowed her eyes to focus, but still she didn’t spot him.

“Inuyasha?”

The hanyou was torn out of his toxic state by the sound of her voice, and he jumped to his feet, rushing across the room to her as he feared she needed him. “Yeah. I’m here. Are you okay?”

“I’m -“ Along the inside of her ribcage, right beside her sternum, it felt as though something unwelcome slithered its way down. A dense sensation was sprouting within the cavity of her chest, enveloping her heart quicker than ever before, and her expression, whatever existed of it, crumbled. Kagome watched as a single tear glided down Inuyasha’s cheek, leaving a trail from the brimming lid of his golden eye. “Baby?” She spoke so softly it was hardly heard.

“What’s wrong?” Inuyasha’s hands were trembling so bad, he’d clenched his fists for a semblance of control.

Without another word, Kagome cautiously extended her arm, tenderly wiping away the tear when he didn’t bother to pull away. It was as if he didn’t even realize he was crying. And, when she left her fingers there to cup his jaw, to caress, he folded.

Inuyasha stepped back, finding the edge of the bed and dropping down to sit on it. It was incredible how shaken up he was over this entire thing. To watch her fall, to hear her scream, to think of the unimaginable, it was his worst fear come true. He shouldn’t even bother trying to hide this from her anymore. It took more effort than it was worth, more effort than he could even manage to put forward right now.

“Inuyasha, will you please talk to me?” Kagome tried, filling the small gap that was created. His crying had to be of the saddest sort she’d ever observed. His face didn’t crinkle, a frown was barely present, and tears streaked his cheeks to speak his mind in ways he wasn’t yet able to. It was like those emotions riddling it were so overwhelming, they were impossible to process, and his expression had no other choice but to be devoid of anything but a blank slate while his heart attempted to decompress enough to breathe.

She was so gentle as she cleaned his cheeks, the swipe of her thumbs a ghost of a touch. Amber eyes fluttered up to her and Kagome swore they were the brightest she’d ever seen them. It was like his sorrow added a beautiful illumination the firelight couldn’t rival, reflecting with a glow that could only come from within, and while it was stunning, Kagome never wanted to get used to seeing them like this.

“If you don’t want to talk, I understand. That’s okay. If you aren’t ready, I’ll just sit with you.” She whispered, biting her bottom lip.

Inuyasha reached forward, wrapping his arms around Kagome’s waist and burying his face in her stomach. Her scent was no longer masked by anything, and he took deep breaths of it, hoping the sweet aroma would work to calm some fucking part of him. He could hear her heartbeat, he could feel her warmth, her fingers were gingerly stroking his ear while her other hand was sweetly placed at the side of his head, and it did work to sooth the tiniest piece of him, but he was still so inconsolably upset. He was upset with himself, with Naraku, with the situation, with the world.

“I thought I’d lost you.” He finally said, his voice raspy and gruff.

Kagome’s chest deflated. She hadn’t realized that was on his mind. She hadn’t considered that maybe he’d been scared enough to ever jump to that conclusion. “I’m so sorry.”

“No.” The spit Inuyasha swallowed went down thickly, almost painfully. He pulled away, begrudgingly so, shaking his head when he shifted her to the side so he could stand. He found himself pacing the room, frustrated, his chest rising and falling heavily as his anxiety went right back to the way it had been. “Do not apologize. Don’t. That’s not what I want to hear.”

“Then, what do you want to hear?” Kagome carefully asked, keeping her tone level.

“Nothing. Nothing, Kagome. Nothing I’ve tried telling myself has made me feel better. I know you’re alive. I know you’re alright. I can see you, I can smell you, I can feel you, but god fucking dammit, all I can hear is your scream.” He ranted, expressing himself with flailing hands and ambling feet.

Kagome watched him, respecting his space, respecting his temper, keeping herself still so as not to agitate his current state. It was finally coming out. She hoped he yelled. Screamed. She wanted him to cry some more so his mind wasn’t so tainted by the dark thoughts that dragged him under. Telling him she was okay wasn’t going to help right now. Not like it usually did. This, what they’d gone through, was more than that. He wasn’t worried about a scrape on her knee, or a cut on her shoulder. He wasn’t freaking out over a demon sneaking up on her, or even overexertion of her powers. Inuyasha had witnessed her being flung aside like a rag doll. Inuyasha had to watch her be thrown away like a piece of garbage while he was pinned down, helpless, and it had to be scarring. She wasn’t the only one affected by that. Of course, she wasn’t. It was traumatizing to the both of them in different manners, and both of which deserved validation.

“I -“ Thereafter his powerful statement, none of his words would come fluidly anymore. Inuyasha was growing increasingly emotional, shaking, his bottom lip quivering like he hadn’t felt since he was a broken child.

“I failed.” The last of his sentence trailed off into a whisper when he felt like his heart was being shredded. Like, it was poorly drawn on a piece of parchment and ripped from top to bottom, left to right, repeat, repeat, repeat.

“I -“ Another pause as his eyes brimmed with tears again. They were hot. Unfamiliar.

“Kagome.” Her name was spoken dolefully.

“I couldn’t get to you.” That part was barely audible. “I couldn’t get to you, and you fell.”

“I don’t - I don’t even know why you’d apologize for being a victim.” Inuyasha said, pressing the heels of his hands to his temples. “When I - I don’t -“

He looked at her with a pleading desperation. “I don’t even know how to ask for your forgiveness.”

Forgiveness? Forgiveness for what? For being in a position beyond his will? Did he really blame himself for the harm she was dealt? Was her near death situation placed on his shoulders for him to bear?

“What are you talking about?” Kagome reached.

“Kagome, you almost fucking died! I didn’t save you! That’s what I’m talking about!”

“But, that’s -“

“No, don’t do that! I know what you’re about to say! I don’t want to hear that it’s not my fault, because that’s not going to mean anything to me!” He snapped. “If it weren’t for Koga, you’d - fuck!”

Kagome stiffened from the amount of internal pain she could see Inuyasha was in. Did she even stand a chance at making this easier on him? Would she be able to talk some sense into him?

“If it weren’t for Koga,” Inuyasha tried continuing. “I don’t know where you’d be, kid. And, it shouldn’t have happened that way. It’s me you’re supposed to be able to rely on. You can’t convince me to be okay with the way things played out, because nothing’s preventing me from feeling like I fucking failed you. I was the one that promised to protect you. Not Koga. Not Sesshomaru. It was me. I told you - I told you - that I can’t fucking lose you, Kagome. I didn’t just say that to make you feel good, or because it sounded like a pleasant thing to add to the moment. I wasn’t even one-upping you. I was telling the truth. I can’t. I can’t do it. And, yet, no matter what I did, I wasn’t strong enough to get to you in time.”

“Can I speak?”

“No.” Because, she would only oppose him, and he wasn’t receptive to hearing her positive point of view just yet. “I already know you’re going to contradict what I say. You don’t see things the way I see them and vise versa. Just listen, alright? Try to understand where I’m coming from.”

Kagome gave the smallest nod, hugging her arms close to her body for a semblance of comfort. It was hard not being able to help while he was basically calling out for it. To stand by idly and watch him break down was so painful, but she knew it was merely a fraction of what he was struggling with right now. So, she didn’t argue.

“I know it’s not my fault that this happened. But, it’s impossible to believe that the prevention of it wouldn’t have been. I made you a promise and I dropped the ball when you needed me most. And, then you were gone. I’ve never been more afraid in my life, kid. Not once. And, when Sesshomaru told me there was no way you could have survived the fall, I fucking believed him. He only said it to get me to fight the puppet instead of abandoning it altogether to go after you, but that doesn’t change the fact that I ditched hope so quickly. God, it hurts, Kagome!” Inuyasha grabbed his chest. His heart. “It hurts so fucking bad! You’re right in front of me, but this feeling wont go away! I don’t know what to do! Please - just - please tell me you forgive me.”

Hot tears spilled from Kagome’s eyes as she broke with his plea, but she fervently shook her head to reject it. “No. I don’t want to.”

“Fuck.” He whimpered huskily.

“It would be like admitted that I believe you did something wrong, when I literally saw you doing everything you could. I don’t agree with you, Inuyasha. I don’t blame you for anything.”

“You need to stop that! This vision you have of me is deluded! I swear, it’s like you think I’m perfect or something!”

“Far from it!” Kagome quickly objected.

“Look at the situation, kid!”

“I was there too, Inuyasha!”

“Fucking shit! It’s like the moment you fell in love with me, you started viewing me with these rose-colored glasses!”

“Oh, shut up! That’s not the case, at all! You’re just trying to get me to second guess myself! I am not naive!” Kagome stomped her foot, glowering at the hanyou across the room. She was angry, and sad, and so badly did she want him to hear her, and she wasn’t leaving this spot until he did. “What are you looking for!? A list of all of my complaints about your personality so that I can prove you wrong!? I’m not going to feed into it! I’m not deluded or whatever else you think I am just because I disagree with you, Inuyasha! Like I said, I was there! I was a part of the whole ordeal! You need to look at the bigger picture! I understand that you feel you should have been responsible for saving me, but circumstances said otherwise! Koga came in, and I’m lucky that he did! You’re right! We don’t know where I’d be! But, I didn’t look at Koga and think, ‘this should have been Inuyasha pulling me out of the river.’ Not even close. He saved my life! He and Sesshomaru helped! So, why is that a gateway for you to criticize yourself just because it wasn’t you? You’re not a god, you can’t expect yourself to do the impossible all on your own! I’m here either way! I’m right here! Inuyasha, I swear I’m okay. You didn’t lose me.”

That war he felt raging inside of him was an ongoing battle, spears being tossed and puncturing his organs to cause internal bleeding. He heard her, but it was still so difficult to rationalize through the haze of his brain. Instead of saying anything in return, he found he could only chew on the inside of his bottom lip, his gaze falling to the ground.

“Do you think Kikyo’s death was my fault?” Kagome asked, her voice dropping several octaves.

Instantly, Inuyasha’s vibrant eyes shot up to meet her, an incredulous expression twisting his features. “Of course, I don’t.”

“Good.” She breathed. “Because, this is sort of the same thing. So, I know how difficult it is to remove yourself from the situation to see things from a different perspective, or even find reasonability somewhere out there. If you need to blame yourself right now, then okay. I get it. I can wait you out, I don’t mind. But, I won’t partake. I won’t give you forgiveness that you don’t need because it would be empty, and I feel like that would be more damaging in the long run. I can’t hurt you like that. I can give you literally anything else, anything you want or need, but not that.”

His heart thudded. Maybe rejecting his request was exactly what he needed. What sort of murky waters would invade his chest if Kagome had basically validated the fault he’d put on himself? Imagining her forgiving him, agreeing that he should have been the one to save her, applied a different kind of weight he hadn’t expected, when he’d initially thought it’d lift it all. His heart still ached, horribly so, but he felt the best thing for him would be to kill the distance. He deserved to hold Kagome, to physically confirm that he hadn’t lost her like he’d foolishly thought. He wanted to kiss her again, to feel the pain that so fiercely demanded to be felt, so that her intimacy could wash it all away - be it little-by-little or all at once. It didn’t matter. This was what he needed. She was what he needed.

“You. Give me you.” Inuyasha crossed the room with a passionate stride, watching a small, hopeful smile of relief appear on her mouth just before he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Give me all of you.”

Kagome stumbled back against the wall, trusting his hold on her as he pinned her there. His lips found hers with an insatiable hunger, his hands snaking up her sides to cradle her jaw and hold her to him. With a small nip to her bottom lip, Inuyasha slipped his tongue into her mouth, delighted by the way she grabbed his belt and pulled him closer. The fire inside of him was suddenly beating out the ice. Cold was a thing of the past when he swallowed a tiny moan that escaped her throat and when he felt her fingers curl further against the waistband of his trousers, holding him against her.

He traveled smoothly down Kagome’s cheek where he gently nipped her jaw, giving a small nudge with his nose to extend her neck so he had more room to play. Little kisses were peppered down the length, her flesh warm, soft, inviting his mouth to give more attention, and she released a tantalizing sigh in response. Inuyasha tensed, pausing at the curve where her shoulder met and hovering so that his hot breath bounced off her skin and back against his chin. His pace dramatically slowed then. This wasn’t going to be rushed. If Kagome didn’t get it yet, she was going to understand with this act just how much he loved her.

The hanyou placed a hand on her hip to squeeze her soft curve while the fingers of his other curled in her hair, tilting her head back. He began a burning trail of kisses back up the side of her neck, bringing a silky gasp from her opened lips and a twitch of her fingers at his pelvis. She could push him away at any time, but Kagome was actively pulling him closer, and the way she held his belt in such a territorial manner had butterflies flying through his stomach. His lips were searching for that sweet spot, incorporating little laps from his tongue until her body tensed and her gasp was shuddered. He felt her flesh grow hotter, a new scent meeting his nose, and it was nearly impossible not to instantly become intoxicated by it. It went straight to his head. He felt light on his feet and the only way he could stabilize himself was to press further into her hip, his mouth sucking a mark above her clavicle.

The moan she released was heavenly, and he swore he heard the hint of his name mixed within. Her hands went to travel up his waist, his abdomen, but always seemed to snap right back to his belt. It almost appeared like both a homing zone to grasp onto, and a way to make sure he never moved far from her. Already, Kagome’s heart was beating hard. He could hear it, practically feel it against his own chest. His wasn’t fairing much different. Inuyasha felt as if his might burst when he actually heard his name fluidly leave her lips.

He released the wonderfully sore spot on Kagome’s neck, hovering just above it so that his satin breath over the wet area would cause a mind-numbing shiver to course over every inch of her skin. Her hanyou placed a sweet kiss to it, let go of her hair, and then brought his face back up to her own, their noses barely touching. It almost seemed like he was taking a moment to admire her, the backs of his fingers softly stroking her cheeks, cleaning the stains her recent tears had left behind. Her eyelashes fluttered closed as he placed a kiss to her forehead, his hands dragging down the sides of her throat, teasing over her collarbone, and ending at the towel that was fastened around her chest.

He loosened the damp garment, holding it around her himself to see if she’d object, and though she’d stiffened minutely, her breath hitching, Kagome didn’t stop him. Inuyasha moved slow, not quite allowing the towel to just drop to the floor. He opened it while he rubbed his nose against hers, feeling her breath, sliding the cloth down her body until it curved below her ass where he released it to fall completely. He pressed his lips to hers, feeling her skin beneath his palms as he grabbed her bare waist, pulling her flush against him.

His kiss was deep, otherworldly, breathtaking, and as he firmed his hold on her and pulled her away from the wall, turning Kagome and guiding her backwards until her legs hit the bed, she found her hands had finally let go of his belt, mindlessly following instinct as they pulled his shirt from within the tuck of his pants. Inuyasha laid her down gently, adjusting her so her head hit the pillows as he crawled on top, and her tongue betrayed her, releasing a small mewl as she tried again to pull his shirt up his torso. Finally, he got the hint, smiling into his kiss before he pulled away and yanked his shirt off, tossing it to the floor to be forgotten.

Having leaned back, Inuyasha’s eyes glanced down for his first good look at Kagome’s body. He couldn’t help but sit back on his legs to take her in, captivated by each inch that was exposed to him. Her breasts were supple, nipples hard and calling his name. Her stomach was toned from the amount of action she saw, the training she did, and he made a mental note to follow the slightly defined line at the top of her abdominals with his lips later. What he found he adored most was that she was still soft in some places. She was healthy. The bottom of her tummy where it met her pelvis had a little curve where her organs were properly protected by muscle and fat. Her hips had a roundness to them as the plush of her bottom was pushed outward, and he wanted to sink his fingers into it all. Most enthralling was the thighs propped at either side of him. They were thick. Muscle and softness that beckoned his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, and Inuyasha couldn’t resist the way his hand caressed over them, gliding upward toward her stomach, her waist, and halting instantly when he felt the tiniest flinch from her.

He’d been so hypnotized that he hadn’t even taken note of the bruises littering her skin. Beneath his palm was a dark red contusion, a shade of purple vaguely notable in the shadows of their room. It was large, extending from the curve of her waist to the edge of her ribcage, and he knew it was caused from the tentacle that had wrapped around her. It brought a heavy sensation to sit in his chest, but he pushed it aside, ghosting his fingers over the mark.

Inuyasha glanced up to Kagome’s face, her cheeks a blistering scarlet as she chewed her bottom lip. She was shy, her blush invading the surface of her chest as even that had hued pink under his eyes. He grinned, crawling back over her and saving her bottom lip from her teeth as he hovered just above, making her anticipate his kiss.

“I’ll be careful.” Inuyasha breathed. “I wont hurt you. You trust me?”

Kagome immediately nodded. She wasn’t afraid, and more than anything, she’d learned to love the sense of vulnerability with Inuyasha. Time and time again, he proved to cherish it. He’d taken such good care of her, so she knew she had nothing to worry about right now. It was impossible not to be nervous, especially under such keen observation, but to watch his smile appear had her heart beating a rhythm that would have even the most skilled dancers out of breath.

She pushed herself an inch upward to close the gap, stealing the kiss Inuyasha had hung over her as her own. She trusted him. She trusted him with even the most delicate pieces of herself. When he’d requested all of her in a desperate reach for comfort, Kagome was nothing short of thrilled. Obliging would be an honor. To be with him was all she wanted, so to hear it was what he’d wanted as well, to have reassurance even when she didn’t need it, it gave her a sense of happiness she understood she was lucky to understand.

Inuyasha groaned into her mouth as Kagome pulled him down against her, her whisper of a moan from the enrapturing heat of his chest swallowed. More. She wanted more of him. All of him. Everything he was willing to give her, she wanted to treasure for as long as she could. One of his hands found her breast, and the way it so softly curved over her shape, trailing over her budded nipple had her upper body arching for more.

Again, his lips made their way down her neck, this time the opposite side as before, taking their time in teasing her sensitive flesh. It was like an unfounded heat was overtaking her, overwhelming her senses. Her breathing was growing heavy as he ground into her hips, the rough texture of his pants against her inner thighs a welcomed chafing she wasn’t eager to end. His tongue above her clavicle had a high-pitched gasp leaving her mouth, his thumb caressing back and forth over her nipple causing her hips to jolt against his. She could feel his hard length then, how his stomach flexed in response, but as she raked her fingers down his side to find his belt again, Inuyasha snagged her wrist midway, jerking it away and pinning it above her head.

“Don’t you dare.”

Kagome giggled at his husky tone, the feeble threat he couldn’t even hold steady, finding she quite liked the restraint. She felt his smile as he pressed kisses against her collarbone, her chest, her breasts, lingering with his wet trail as he seemingly relished in the soft tissue.

If his calloused hands felt this good against her nipple, she wanted to know what his molten tongue would feel like. She wanted it so bad, but her words were lost in her baited breaths. Kagome couldn’t even try to communicate, entranced in the way he was seemingly teasing her. It was like he was eating her up, sucking his mark into her skin, nibbling softly and bringing her to arch into him. Inuyasha was pressed firmly against her, granting her a small grind of his hips, and he trailed his tongue from the underside of her breast, finally flicking her erect nipple with a heat that felt so much different than anywhere else.

The moan that escaped Kagome’s mouth was desperate, and if her thoughts were sober, she’d have been humiliated. It was like fuel for Inuyasha, though. After she cracked, he took her into his mouth, flicking his tongue in mind-numbing ways, suckling lightly, and then pulling off of her with a pop of his lips.

“Baby.” Kagome mewled.

To hear her call him that was ethereal. The endearment left her tongue like silk, meeting his ears with a heavenly warmth that could have caused him to melt right then and there. His name in that soft coo of a tone was to die for, but this? This was to live for. He wanted to experience it a hundred more times just like that. He wanted to hear it stuttered in her dreamy state. He wanted it to get to the point where the endearment was lost in her sighs, but still there to linger in the nonexistent space between them.

Inuyasha kissed a path from one breast to the other, engulfing the opposite in just as much affection as he took to massaging the one his mouth had just been all over. Kagome’s breathing was deep, her upper body rising into him to seek more attention, and the broken whimper she released as he swirled his tongue around her nipple almost caused him to crumble. It was like she was shamelessly begging for more in a manner that required no articulation. He could give her that. He would oblige. Inuyasha was going to absolutely worship this woman until she was shaking.

Her pelvis rolled into his own, and he groaned, popping off of her nipple to reach back up for her mouth. Her lips were lax, molding against his and opening for his tongue as it glided through to massage her own. Her whines tasted exquisite, the warmth of her fingers curling around the back of his neck was divine. Inuyasha breathed her in, her scent so much stronger than he’d ever experienced, and stars flickered behind the lids of his eyes.

Languidly, he dragged his fingers down her belly, grazing the backs of his nails over the space between each hip. The moan she shuddered was earnestly swallowed by him, fueling his slow, leisurely movements as he teased the sensitive skin. The way he softly touched her, raking almost methodically in the places that had her reacting positively, had a flurry igniting in his stomach. Her responses to him were more than he could have ever asked for. He couldn’t get enough of the sounds she made, causing his heart to do practiced somersaults in his chest. His ribcage was going to break if it beat any harder, but it was a fate he was more than willing to accept.

Gently, Inuyasha glided his hands down further, pulling away from their kiss so that he could feel her sharp gasp against his lips. He teased his fingers over the slit of her sex in a ghost of a touch. It was hot, and even though he’d whispered over her, he could still feel the slick lubrication her body naturally created. The next stroke of his fingers went within her folds, still stroking lightly while delighted by the searing heat of how wet she was. It scalded his middle finger in the most delectable way as he dragged the moisture over her vulva. Though delicately touched, he could already feel how swollen her clit had become, Kagome’s body reacting with a twitch that caused her pelvis to roll again.

With each glide of his fingers, Inuyasha gradually applied a little more pressure, coaxing her body into relaxing for him as she adjusted to the stimulation. He kissed her nose, her cheeks, just beneath her eyes, and her long eyelashes tickled him. He grinned as she tilted upward for attention on her mouth, and he complied with a meager drag of his lips against hers, planting the kiss on her chin. The sound of her laughter was breathy and heart stopping. It was better than music. It was contagious, and Inuyasha chuckled too.

“How do you like it done, baby?” He asked, his voice low since they were so close. There was a slight stiffness that appeared from rising shyness, and he felt the heat climb in her cheeks, but he tenderly kissed it away, continuing his ministrations along her pussy.

He understood her hesitation to answer, more than willing to wait as long as necessary. In the meantime, Inuyasha softly circled his finger around her clit, keeping the pressure light. Kagome gasped, and he relished in the way she arched into him that time, her breasts pressing into his bare chest, her skin sublime against his. With how responsive she was to him, even if she was too bashful to speak, he was sure if he followed her cues, he’d get it right and make her cum on his hand.

Kagome swallowed her nervousness, willing her body to relax again as she pushed her palm between them, following his arm down and gliding over the tops of his fingers. With a little flex, she slowed down his rhythm, keeping the circular motion that he’d gotten right from the start. The hanyou released a languid sigh, as if her guidance was exhilarating to him, and she couldn’t help but feed off of that.

She moved his hand around a bit to take him off of her clit, feeling a sense of overstimulation coming on too soon. He showed extreme caution with his claws, sensible to only use the pads of his fingers as he gently massaged the labia around, spreading her juices and gliding with smooth ease. As the bundle of nerves calmed slightly and she missed his touch, Kagome pulled his hand back toward it, allowing him to choose the rhythm. She mewled as he sent her head shoving back into the pillow, her breathing pattern escalating with the perfect circles he drew into her.

Inuyasha kissed her lips just in time to taste her heated moan. He was drunk on her scent, and every sound she made had his mind reeling. Again, she pushed him off of her clit, but her fingers were growing unsteady on top of his, finding she had to busy them by massaging his forearm while he teased the lips of her pussy until she calmed down. He pressed kiss after kiss down her jaw, her neck, leaving another mark around her sensitive clavicle that had her whimpering once more.

“Baby.” Kagome whispered at the top of her gasp, and Inuyasha grunted heatedly in response.

She reached for his wrist and eagerly pulled him against her clit, and he went back to his original pace. But, she wanted it faster. The spot he sucked into her skin had her mind racing, her blood pumping. She was hot all over, and her nerves pleaded for more.

This was nothing like the times when she’d explored herself. This felt surreal. The way her skin ignited in a rush was unearthly, the way her mind went blank was dreamlike. So soon, the stimulation had her climbing higher and higher, and a flame sparked in her core. Kagome adjusted his speed, increased his pressure a little, and her hands instantly flew to grasp onto anything she could. Her lungs were breathing an entirely new pattern, but when he took her nipple in his mouth, she nearly stopped breathing altogether. The flick of his tongue, the suck behind his lips, his fingers taking her cue and moving faster, Kagome was reduced to gasps now, her hips riding his hand.

“Yeah?” He teased, his breath hot against her wet breast. “Like that?”

Kagome could only moan in reply.

“Fuck, baby.” His voice was so low, she could hardly hear it, but she could feel the rumble coming from his chest, stimulating her further. Inuyasha licked the hard bud of her nipple, keeping the pace of his fingers steady. “Come on. Cum for me.”

The moment her nipple was back in his mouth, she was done for. Kagome sucked in a final breath to be held captive in her lungs, arching against him. She was incredibly taut while her lower body was twitching, a small spasm taking over her thigh, but her orgasm wasn’t ridden out yet. As it began its descent, Kagome’s muscles began shaking more, her hips following the slowing circles of Inuyasha’s fingers as she uncontrollably ground against him, exasperated moans leaving her throat that her hanyou moved up to swallow with open-mouthed kisses.

Kagome was on a high, her body coming down, legs collapsing against the hanyou, chest pumping deeply as she tried to catch her breath. Inuyasha chuckled gratifyingly, kissing his way south while his girl’s hands lazily found his biceps, his shoulders, trying to touch him anyway she could while she was in her inadvertent, dreamy state. He followed the line of her abdominals like he’d promised himself, finding it to be just as satisfying as he’d imagined, careful of the large bruise that marred her ribs. He nipped her waist, shifted to the other side, and left twice the amount of soft, little bite marks there. When he reached the soft part of her tummy, Inuyasha found himself burying his face in it, kissing so ravishingly that he almost lost his mind. Skillfully, he maneuvered Kagome’s thighs over his shoulders, all while she was still lethargic, tiny moans leaving her lips whenever he planted attention.

The hanyou flexed his fingers into the plush of her legs, immediately allured by how goddamn soft they were. Her inner thighs were the work of a saint, and he kissed his way up, unwilling to control his craving to suck and nibble the thicker areas near the apex. It was more sensitive the closer he got to her pussy, and as if he knew her body well enough to guess, Inuyasha pinned her down as he sucked his mark into her skin. Unsurprisingly, Kagome’s hips went to rock against him, her sharp gasp causing his ear to flick in delight. He transferred to the opposite side, kissing her inner thighs, licking, rewarding her mewls with gentle bites and little suckles that made his preferred name spill from her tongue.

Practically drooling from the aroma Kagome was giving off, Inuyasha didn’t want to deny himself anymore. With a broad stroke, he dragged his tongue up the length of her slit, causing Kagome to tense and gasp.

“Holy shit!” Her upper body practically rose off the bed with how hot his tongue was, with how different it felt from fingers. And, Inuyasha growled in response, repeating the motion. His hands went from her thighs to her hips, firmly squeezing into the plush that shaped her, but he didn’t get overzealous too quickly, which was what brought Kagome to melt back into the comforter. Her brown eyes had virtually rolled into the back of her head as his strokes got shallower, shifting into little sucks that he found balance with.

He didn’t go straight for her clit, nor did he concentrate on it when he gifted it with that exquisite attention from his tongue. Kagome was still high from her previous orgasm, but wasn’t overly sensitive anymore, so each glide had her fidgeting wonderfully.

Inuyasha was getting bolder as he got lost in her taste. He couldn’t even tell her how fucking good it was, instead putting his mouth to better use. He revisited his broad strokes for a moment, pinching his fingers into her hips when she moaned. While he did that, alternating so she didn’t lose herself too quickly, he found she rocked her pelvis into him. Like, she was riding his tongue. And, his eyes fluttered closed as his enthusiasm piqued.

He sucked on her clit, flicking the tip of his tongue against it, and Kagome’s hands landed on his head. He could tell she was trying to be gentle; his hair was still up and she was most likely worried about pulling it, but he didn’t want her to have that sort of control over herself. So, he sucked again, relishing in the feel of her fingers gripping him. Adventurously, Inuyasha dipped his tongue into her entrance, tasting her at the source, and her thighs squeezed against him. She was reduced to a whimpering mess all over again, unable to formulate words with even a single syllable.

Knowing she was close, Inuyasha grabbed her wrists and pinned them to her stomach, keeping her hips as still as he could as he lapped back up to her clit.

“Baby - Baby I’m - I’m -“

He growled in satisfaction as he sucked her into his mouth, treating the bundle of nerves to a rhythm of pressure that wouldn’t change until she was finished. Kagome’s body went unbelievably taut, her breath held in her chest, and he could feel her pussy convulsing as her orgasm sent her spiraling. The whine that finally escaped her lips was a sign of her comedown, and Inuyasha relented so he wouldn’t overstimulate her, kissing her pussy lips, her thighs, her pelvis her hips.

Just as he climbed his way back up her body, Kagome jerked him down into a kiss, her hands shaking but greedy as they explored his chest. This time, when she reached down for his belt, he didn’t stop her, pushing closer into her so she had a better chance at undoing the loop while she sent his mind reeling with her sloppy, hungry kisses. She was tasting herself on his tongue, swallowing his groans as she paused in undoing his pants to stroke his cock over the fabric. He could feel her thighs trembling with aftershocks of her recent orgasm, and it inadvertently caused his length to throb.

The moment she unlatched his pants, Inuyasha pushed them down and freed his dick, trying to remind himself that he couldn’t be too eager right now. He needed to slow down again, but his heart was pounding and he felt insatiably hot over every inch of his body.

He could feel that Kagome was cautious, but she broke away from the kiss to glance down between them, biting her swollen lip as she took him in. The way she licked her hand before carefully grabbing for it though, had him jolt. Inuyasha didn’t even get to revel in how fucking hot that was before she made his mind blank with the attention. He was so fucking hard that the softest touch from her fingers as she clumsily dragged them up his length had his core winding.

“Here,” He managed to groan, grabbing her hand and adjusting the pressure. The smallest, fearless smile appeared on Kagome’s lips and it was so close to being his undoing. He made her match a slow rhythm so he could keep an inkling of composure, his breathing increasing with her attention.

Allowing her to stroke him, Inuyasha pushed his pants from his legs, never moving far from her in his venture. Her mouth was red, evidence of his affection swelling the plush, and as if they beckoned him, he kissed her with an unmatched adoration. The hanyou removed her palm, leading her to hold his own as he used his free one to guide his cock. With skill, he glided it against her pussy, her slick heat bringing a hiss from his tongue. Again, he stroked himself against her and Kagome mewled, arching.

Begrudgingly pulling back from her, Inuyasha looked at where they’d be connected, spitting down onto his cock and massaging it over the head and length so there was a bit of lubrication coming from his end, too. Lining himself up, he crawled back over her, taking her hands in his and threading their fingers as he shoved her arms over her head.

Slowly, very slowly, he pushed inside of her, feeling her tense around him as her eyes pinched shut and a tiny whimper left her throat. Instantly, he stopped, rubbing his thumbs over her tightened hands, hushing her discomfort away, and kissing her cheek.

“Don’t stop.” Kagome said, willing her body to relax with baited breaths.

He chuckled from her ambition. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No, it - it doesn’t hurt. It’s just a bit - um - tight. I’m okay.”

With another kiss to her jaw, Inuyasha complied, steadily pushing himself the rest of the way inside of her. He refused to move for a moment, planting kiss after kiss until she was properly adjusted to the intrusion.

“I love you.” He whispered, nuzzling his nose against her own.

Inuyasha practically felt the smile grow on her face, but it wasn’t of the sort he was expecting. Kagome was fighting back a fucking laugh, a tiny chortle muffled behind her lips.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say that during something like this.” The dumbass giggled, and Inuyasha rolled his eyes, pursing his lips in half a grimace as he pinched her cheeks together.

“Shut up and say it back.”

Her giggle was infectious, bringing him to have to swallow his own laughter, a grin replacing his feigned scowl of annoyance.

“I love you more.” Kagome said with the brightest smile.

“Oh, you’re one of those.” He remarked.

As she gleefully nodded, Inuyasha stole a kiss, feeling all of the tension in her muscles dwindle away. With that, he gave a small rock of his hips, noticing her stiffen again, but her breath told him the discomfort wasn’t overwhelming.

Kagome had removed her hands from his to grab onto him, her legs hooked around his own as he carved a skillful, slow rhythm against her. There was less pressure now. The sensation was different, but it was growing increasingly incredible. Inuyasha had dropped his head to pepper her shoulder and neck in unending amounts of affection, and with a forceful grind, his pushed himself entirely inside of her. The moan she inadvertently released at that was deep, unintentionally loud, and she felt her hanyou clench rigidly.

Inuyasha was losing himself. She was clamping down around his cock, and her moans were making it impossible to focus. He was about to make sure she was okay, picking himself up a bit, when he observed the way his next grind had her head tossing back, her breath tantalizing and hot. The hanyou cupped her jaw, kissing her sloppily as he increased his pace a little, and Kagome seemed to melt beneath him. Her hands were traveling now, exploring him. For a minute, she’d placed them on his abdomen, feeling the way his muscles flexed with each thrust he gave, then she honed on his obliques and her nails teased his waist. She roamed around to his back, and at the same time that she lightly scratched him, she gently bit his bottom lip.

“Fuck, baby.” He moaned, accidentally bucking harder. Kagome pinched her lips together then, tensing unpleasantly, so he caught the cue, pulling back slightly to keep his gentle rhythm going and kissing her head apologetically.

It didn’t matter. He was still getting close. Her pussy was so wet, he was gliding in and out with practiced ease. It was like a succulent heat was licking up his shaft, teasing him with coaxing words and a tongue of satin.

“Fuck.” He grunted again, clinging to the plush of her thigh.

“More.” Kagome mewled. There was less grinding from him now, the roll of his hips bringing his cock all the way out to the tip, and then all the way back in. He was hitting something inside of her that had her legs twitching, and his groans had her hypersensitive to everything. “Baby, more. Please.”

She wanted to hear him in her ear. She wanted those growls to cause him to pin her down. She wanted the hand he held her thigh with to bruise his fingerprints into her flesh.

He couldn’t deny her. The butterflies in his stomach had escaped into the cavity of his chest, and Inuyasha was on cloud nine. With a rumble, he pushed himself up to sit on his knees, grasping Kagome’s waist and forcing her arch. He picked her lower body up from the bed with ease, supporting her hips as he drove his cock into her. With the choked gasp she gave, he knew his thrusts were kissing a sweet spot, and Inuyasha dropped his jaw as he watched a series of gooseflesh course over her. Her tits were bouncing with each hit of his hips, her thighs were tensing against him, and her fingers grabbed onto his wrists for support, biting into him.

It felt too good. He still had her indescribable taste on his tongue, and the overriding scent of her lingering orgasms had his cock pulsing inside of her.

“Fuck - fuck.” Everything that slipped from his mouth was out of his control, a string of curses mixed within praise Kagome deserved. “That’s my girl. That’s my good girl. Just a little further, baby, just a little bit more. Fuck, you’re so good. You’re so good, baby girl. Oh fuck, just like that.” He thrusted faster. “Baby - fuck! You’re my good girl, aren’t you? You gonna take it for me? Just like that. Just like -“

Swiftly, Inuyasha pulled out, dropping Kagome down and jerking himself to completion as he spilling himself over her tummy. Both of their breathing was ragged, he was twitching ridiculously, and he finally groaned as the best of his orgasm subsided. Suddenly, it was like supporting himself was the most difficult thing he had to do with now.

Amber eyes lethargically drifted up toward Kagome’s earthy browns, and her cheeks with a gorgeous tint of pink from the exertion, but her expression, her hazy, amorous expression, had her pupils looking like hearts. She lazily notched her nose upward to beckon him forward, and Inuyasha would have been a fool not to oblige, crawling the few inches up her body so she could pull him into a gratifying kiss.

He was in a dream. His mind was clouded with the beautiful echo of her recent moans, and he pressed languid kisses all over her until their heart rates began to drop down to a relatively normal pace. Inuyasha found himself following their mixed scents dragging his body south, kissing her shaking thighs, and then licking up their blended taste. Kagome shuddered, instantly rolling her hips against his tongue, the gasp she released without a moan at the end. She was too spent for sounds, and every flex from her muscles was of a fatigued sort, trembling and unsteady, but still responsive to his affection. Inuyasha gave a finishing kiss to her clit after licking another path upward, almost getting lost all over again in her soaked pussy.

“Don’t move.” He breathed, climbing back up to kiss her. “I’ll go get a washcloth to clean you up.”

“Wait.” Kagome snagged him for another kiss, giggling when he stumbled on his palms.

“I’ll be - right - back.” He laughed between pecks.

“One more.”

“You’re impossible.” Inuyasha smiled into the kiss, lingering with that one before he tore himself away.

He dampened the washcloth under warm water, coming back to gently wipe off her stomach of his seed. When he looked back up to her appreciative grin, it quickly shifted into fully pursed lips. A silent request for more kisses. Inuyasha laughed, tossing the cloth to the floor before rejoining her in bed to pepper her face in so many kisses, she’d regret ever asking for more. Her giggles were wonderful, her warm hands pulling him closer, and he somehow maneuvered the blanket out from beneath them to tuck them in.

He knew she wouldn’t last long. She cuddled into his chest, her lids fluttering closed and tickling his skin before she drifted off, and Inuyasha kissed her forehead, stroking her hair until he, himself, gave into the pull of sleep.

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#you guys #im so tired #I fell behind #im so sorry #anyway there I made it better #now everyone can stop being mad at me for the cliffhanger last week #including you heather #im looking at you b #monster #inuyasha #kagome higurashi #kagome #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag fanfiction #akitokihojo

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 4 years

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Unsatisfied

doing this thing | day 5 - orgasm denial

I really took liberties with this one and went very off topic (yes I realize this is my own list) bc I was not feeling it. This is actually more like one that I cut from the list (oops!)

Jaskier's still restless as he makes his way back to their room at the inn. By now, Geralt will be asleep and for once, he's glad for it. The last thing he needs is for Geralt to see him like this and ask why. The pair of them have shared much on their journeys together, but this is not something Jaskier is particularly eager to share.

He slips into the room, stepping as carefully as he can and shutting the door quietly behind him. There's a sound from across the room and he stops in his tracks, waiting to see if Gerlt will wake before continuing. He shuffles across the floor toward the only bed and frowns at Geralt's form, taking up the majority of the space. There's nothing for it; he'll simply have to sleep on the floor tonight because he certainly can't sleep with Geralt when he's in this state.

At least if he's on his own, he can deal with his little problem without too much trouble and he won't have to suffer through the night like this. He manages to cross the room in the dark without stumbling or knocking into anything and he sits at the end of the bed, laying out his bedroom. On the bed above him, Geralt shifts and Jaskier freezes again, one hand shoved deep in his pack, searching.

He hears a grunt then the bed creaks and Jaskier shuts his eyes. He knows Geralt is awake now, knows he's looking for him but it doesn't matter if he sees him or not - he'll hear him soon enough, or smell him if he's very unlucky.

"Jaskier?"

Fuck. Or that.

"Go back to sleep Geralt, I didn't mean to wake you."

"What are you doing down there, aren't you coming to bed?"

"Er, no. I don't think so."

Geralt growls at him, low, impatient. "Why not?"

"I, er- I think it would be best if I don't."

"Jaskier," Geralt hisses through the dark. "I won't put up with you bitching all day tomorrow because you didn't sleep well because you slept on the floor."

Well. That's a lot of words at once for Geralt. Jaskier wants to climb into bed with him, would willingly join him any other night but tonight- Although he also doesn't want to be left behind in the morning. He's stuck, it seems, between a rock and a hard place. There's an irony there that he doesn't appreciate.

Reluctantly, Jaskier releases the bottle in his hand and rises to his feet. He doesn't bother to remove his clothes before climbing up over the foot of the bed and pressing himself against the wall. He'll appease Geralt for the time being and tomorrow, he'll just have to find time to slip away and take care of things without Geralt finding out. It should be easy enough, he's done it dozens of times before.

But, as always, Geralt can't let anything be easy for him.

"You're not getting changed?"

"No, I don't think so."

Geralt just grunts in response and Jaskier thinks he's finally free of scrutiny. He turns toward the wall and curls around himself, forcing down the feelings still plaguing him. It's fine; Geralt keeps his distance and Jaskier doesn't have to look at him (because that certainly won't help calm him), but he still can't sleep.

He shifts, rolling onto his stomach in the hopes that it will make it easier to sleep, but it doesn't. So he rolls onto his side. Also no good. But the next time he moves, he feels a hand on his hip and rolls his head back to find Geralt much closer than he was a moment ago.

"What's wrong?" he asks and Jaskier just shrugs.

"Can't sleep."

"Cold?" he asks and when Jaskier doesn' answer, he just shifts closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. Which is... sweet, honestly. And so out of character for Geralt that Jaskier can't bring himself to tell him no. He mumbles a soft thanks and presses his shoulders back as if to prove his thankfulness.

But Geralt's hand slips under the hem of his shirt - accidentally, he's sure - and his thumb brushing lightly against his skin. It's soft, much softer than he would expect from his companion and if he didn't know better, he'd say Geralt was fucking with him. But he does know Geralt better than that and he's already been warned about their early morning, so he's sure Geralt wouldn't intentionally keep him up.

So Jaskier withstands this assault that would regularly be more than welcome. Geralt's hand moves to his thigh and Jaskier has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning. Geralt is just tired, that's all it is, because sometimes when he's tired and feels safe, he lets his defences down. That's all. And Jaskier's body is just having a very unfortunate reaction to Geralt's trust. Hot breath dusts against the back of his neck and Jaskier shudders against him, his traitorous cock twitching where it's pressed against his trousers. The only thing he has to be thankful for now is that he kept his clothes on before climbing into bed.

Geralt slides closer, pressing his nose into Jaskier's neck and Jaskier can't take anymore or he's going to lose his fucking mind. He's already keyed up beyond words and of course Geralt chooses tonight to become all touchy-feely at bedtime.

He hauls himself forward, pulling from Geralt's embrace and pulls himself into an upright position. He's hunched over, trying to steady his breathing when Geralt stirs next to him.

"I'm sorry, I just can't-"

"What's wrong?" Geralt asks, his voice fuzzy with sleep.

"I just have to go and take care of something," he mumbles. He's already moving, halfway across Geralt when strong hands come up to his thighs, pulling him down so he's straddling Geralt's hips. And the position doesn't go unnoticed. Jaskier's cock twitches immediately and he's sure Geralt must be able to feel how hard he is, though he remains placid as always.

"What's going on Jaskier? Why won't you just lie down and sleep?" Jaskier shifts to pull away but Geralt holds him down. Jaskier looks up and Geralt’s eyes meet his for a moment. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I-" he starts, immediately going for the quickest and most practical lie he can think up, but he meets Geralt's eyes again and his resolve drains at the sincerity there. Of course, now is the time Geralt decides to worry about him. "I had a rather unsatisfying night," he mumbles, hoping it will be enough. Geralt just looks at him expectantly and Jaskier sighs. "Do you mind if I-" he tips his head to the side and Geralt nods, releasing him.

Jaskier slides off of him, lying back on his side and tucking his knees up to keep Geralt from seeing just how badly he's affected.

"After my performance tonight a lovely lad invited me back to his room-" Geralt lifts an eyebrow at him impatiently but Jaskier just waves him off and continues. "Have you ever been with someone who likes to push your limits?"

"Get to the point, Jaskier, I've had enough of your exploits for a lifetime."

"Well, he just- we were-" Jaskier sighs and relents. "He was bringing me to the edge over and over without-" he glances up and finds Geralt watching him expectantly which considering the topic of conversation is a little overwhelming."Anyway he got me really worked up and then his brother came home and he kicked me out! Can you believe it?"

"Why didn't you just take care of it?" Geralt mumbles and his eyes are shut again.

"It wasn't that bad when I got back here, but then you just, y'know-" he doesn't dare risk calling it cuddling lest Geralt shy away from it and never try it again, but he doesn't know what to call it.

"Hmm."

"Thank you for your sympathy," Jaskier scoffs, turning back onto his other side to scowl at the wall.

"If you need to take care of things, I'm not going to stop you."

"What, right here? With you lying next to me? I don't think so."

"I've heard you dozens of other times, I don't see why it should matter." Jaskier splutters at the confession, but Geralt remains totally calm. "Jaskier, neither of us are going to sleep until you come, so just get on with it."

There's something about Geralt telling him to come that runs right through him and his cock gives a twitch of enthusiasm. Reluctantly Jaskier undoes his trousers and slips a hand inside. Having an audience shouldn't affect him the way it does; usually, he enjoys being watched, knowing that someone else is getting off watching him but Geralt is- well it just feels wrong. It shouldn't feel like he's taking advantage, but it does. Geralt doesn't know how he feels about him, doesn't know the things he thinks about him and touching himself while Geralt is right there just feels like an intrusion or something.

Jaskier is under no delusions, he knows exactly how he feels about Geralt and he knows that he shouldn't think about him the way that he does, but sometimes it's hard not to.

"I can't," he mumbles. It feels good to have a hand wrapped around him, but it's not worth the shame that creeps into his chest. He keeps thinking about Geralt hearing him, Geralt hearing him when he was thinking about him. "I can't do it with you watching."

"Why not?"

"I just... it's not right, Geralt, listening in on someone when they don't know."

"I didn't intend to listen. I was just listening to make sure you were alright."

"Oh."

"But you're so very loud."

"So why didn't you stop?"

"You're also very... captivating."

All of a sudden the air feels very dense and Jaskier struggles to catch his breath. "Geralt," he breathes, "are you telling me you liked listening to me jerk off?"

"I didn't dislike it."

"Oh. Is that why you- tonight?"

"No," Geralt says firmly. "We have to get an early start, we both need to get some sleep."

"Ah. Right. Maybe if you... helped? If you like listening you could just... talk to me? Tell me about those times?"

Geralt hesitates for a moment and then, "what should I say?"

Ah. Okay, so they're really doing this. "Tell me about the first time." Jaskier's heart hammers against his chest and he's not even sure he's breathing.

"I was hunting a fiend and you insisted on going off," Geralt huffs what sounds like a laugh and Jaskier relaxes a little. "I knew it was close so I didn't want you out of my sight but you were insistent, so I listened after you. I didn't want you getting hurt."

"When did you realize?"

"I'd smelled it on you before you left, so it didn't take much to piece together what you were doing."

Jaskier keeps his back turned as he snakes a hand down his stomach, slipping under the waist of his trousers. He shuts his eyes, focusing on the low rumble of Geralt's voice.

"What made you realize?"

"I heard swear under your breath and I heard you groan as you touched yourself. Something had you aroused already."

"Mm," Jaskier confirms, "I remember. What did you think?"

"Nothing, at first. I know I take you away from town more often than you're used to. I knew it was just something you needed to do."

"Geralt," he groans, "could you try and be just a tiny bit sexy?"

There's a huff of a laugh and then Geralt's breath against the back of his neck. Jaskier doesn't know when he moved closer, but it's certainly a step in the right direction.

"I found myself waiting for the next time. You always stink of lust so I was never sure when it would be. Then one night we were camped by the river and you said you were going to wash your clothes. I knew you weren't."

"You listened," Jaskier guesses, shutting his eyes. His cock twitches against his palm and he squeezes a little tighter. He doesn't realize he's holding his breath until Geralt breathes against him.

"I listened. I liked the way you sounded. Breathless, wanting. I tried to picture what you'd look like."

"Oh," Jaskier gasps. His hips jerk forward and he stifles a groan into his pillow. "Did you-" he huffs, "did you like it?" He knows he shouldn't be so brazen, but his cock aches for more and Jaskier is brave and stupid at the best of times.

"Yes." Fuck. Jaskier groans and throws his head back, hitting Geralt's chest with a soft thud. He hadn't realized he was that close.

"Please," he whispers and he's not sure what he's asking for but then Geralt's palm slides around his forearm, wrapping gently around him before sliding down to his wrist. He doesn't linger long, but just as Jaskier thinks he's about to pull away, he slips his fingers between Jaskier's wrapping around his cock.

"Geralt."

"I thought about this," he breathes, pressing his nose against the base of his skull, "while I listened to you. Imagined it was me touching you, pulling those sounds from you."

"Should've come," Jaskier hums. Gera;t shifts against him, lips brushing against the shell of his ear and Jaskier can feel his breath, hot and damp against his skin.

"I did."

"Fuck, Geralt. Tell me. Please."

Geralt takes his hand, moves a little quicker against him and Jaskier struggles to focus on anything but the pressure around his cock, the unfamiliar fingers coiled around him.

"It gets me hard every time. I hear every word you say, I've heard you come whispering my name and I couldn't tune it out. I didn't want to. So when you'd slip away, I'd settle in."

"Mm, Geralt, please-" Jaskier's hips jerk forward and Geralt breathes against the side of his neck, dipping in to press a kiss under his ear. "Tell me."

"I'd bring myself off to the sound of you touching yourself. Still do, sometimes."

And oh, if that isn't sexy as hell. Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut, shifts back against Geralt and he can feel his cock pressing against him. Geralt is hard and huge, pressed against his ass and when he shifts his hip, Jaskier lets out a low moan.

"Did you think about touching me?" he asks, "like this?"

"And other ways."

"Fuck, Geralt, show me."

The hand around his releases and for a split second, Jaskier thinks he's pushed too far. He doesn't always think before he speaks and with Geralt's hand wrapped around his cock, he can hardly be expected to think clearly. Behind him, Geralt shuffles and Jaskier's hips twitch.

After a moment, Geralt's hands return to his body curling around the hem of his shirt and tugging it up. Jaskier assists, squirming out of it; apparently, Geralt isn't done with him, after all. His trousers come next, shoved down toward the bottom of the bed and discarded, then Jaskier finds himself rolled onto his other side and Geralt wraps an arm around him, pulling him close. And Geralt is naked too, pressed right up against him.

Jaskier stifles a groan in his neck, pressing an experimental kiss against Geralt's skin. It earns him a soft hum in response and he pushes closer, breath stuttering as Geralt's cock slides against his own.

"Is this what you thought about?" he asks, "fucking me?"

"Mm," Geralt tips his head up, pressing his lips against Jaskier's and Jaskier groans against him, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Geralt deepens the kiss, sliding a hand down his back and cupping his ass to guide the roll of his hips. He moans softly against him and Jaskier commits the sound to memory, delighting in the feeling of it against his lips. He hooks a knee over Geralt's hip, pulling himself forward and the gentle kiss quickly devolves into quick, jolting movements and panted groans. Pleasure builds inside him and Jaskier knows this can't last forever but fuck if he doesn't want it to.

"I want you," he mumbles, mouthing at Geralt's jaw, "all the time. Think about you- off in the forest, down by the river. Tonight, in another man's bed I was still thinking about you."

"Next time stay," Geralt breathes. He slips a hand around them both, stroking them both as well as he can with the uneven thrust of their hips. "I won't leave you wanting."

"Never doubted you for a second." Jaskier's breath catches as Geralt's thumb slips up over the head of his cock and he kisses him again, nipping at his bottom lip.

"Come for me, Jaskier." The words are whispered against his ear and Jaskier can feel his entire body melt into him, all resistance gone as though there was any to begin with. He lets Geralt tug him forward, not an inch of space between them and Jaskier rocks against him, hips stuttering as Geralt's hand splays over his lower back, keeping him near.

He lets out a sharp moan, jerking forward sharply and as Geralt's hand squeezes around him, he comes. Geralt catches his lips in a deep kiss, rolling him onto his back and fitting himself against him.

Jaskier is barely aware beyond the blood rushing in his ears, but he can feel Geralt moving against him, hear the soft groans against his lips and he drowns in it. His whole body is alight and when Geralt rocks against him it's almost too sensitive. He wraps his arms around him, letting his fingers explore the planes of his back now that he's not too distracted to enjoy it. Geralt shudders apart in his arms, pressing his nose into Jaskier's neck as he comes and then he's still against him, but for his lips pressing against Jaskier's skin, slow and lazy.

Jaskier slumps, exhausted, but he's not quite ready to let Geralt go. He tries once, to lifts himself from Jaskier's chest, but Jaskier is feeling especially affectionate, post-orgasm and just slips one hand up into Geralt's hair, massaging his head softly.

"Don't you want to get cleaned up?"

"Mm," Jaskier hums, "I think we should sleep."

"I'll come back," Geralt promises, pressing up from the mattress again. Jaskier pouts but really he should have known Geralt would know him so well. He lets him go and Geralt offers a soft smile before slipping from the bed.

"Don't be long," Jaskier mutters, already tugging his pillow back under his head, "don’t forget, we have to leave early."

#geraskier #smut #rex writes #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #october prompts 2k20

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stevesharrlngtons · 3 years

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a/n: this is 110% inspired by @skarsgard-daydreams and her wonderful eric x reader series unto dead. if you haven't already, GO READ IT, it will change your life.

this is literally just filthy smut. that's it, nothing else, you've been warned why am i nervous? is everyone nervous posting smut? this came out of loving marie's stories with a passion, and wanting to bring some good solo pam smut to the table. with that being said, 18+ and sorry if it sucks lmao ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ enjoy!

Time meant nothing in the dungeon, and even less when you were under Mistress Pam’s rule. It didn’t matter to her if she went against her word and five minutes of spankings turned into fifty. She didn’t care if she promised that after she counted to three you could cum, and then let hours lapse between one and two. And she certainly didn’t care about your opinion on her lack of concern over the loss and fluctuations of time during your sporadic sessions.

Your sessions only happened on the rare occasion Eric was out of town, and the even rarer occasion that he allowed Pam to play with you without him.

Tonight, the stars had a lined and allowed both of the requirements to be met for her to handle his girl all alone. Although, his presence was never really left out of these affairs. The security camera in the corner always reminded Pam, and you, of his omnipresence.

As Pam looked over your restrained naked body now, she knew without even having her maker in the room that he was enjoying himself. Your lithe form shone under candlelight as sweat drenched your skin and wetness slicked between your thighs. Your chest was rising and falling in great succession. You squirmed uselessly in the binds that secured your wrists and ankles to the steel table, as your body subconsciously tried to curl inward for comfort after another orgasm had been cruelly ripped away from you. Pam smirked, lashes batting down at you as she weighed the heavy wand vibrator in her hand.

“Stupid girl, thinking she gets to cum whenever she wants. So greedy,” she ran the wand on low vibration over the length of your form, enjoying greatly the way it made you gurgle and whine, "I own your orgasms, your pussy isn’t allowed to pulse unless I choose to make it do so, correct?”

She rounded your pert nipple with the wand, “Correct?”

“Yes! Yes, Mistress!” you gasped out, knowing that not responding at all would only make your deprivation worse.

“Look at that, maybe you aren’t just a stupid little cunt after all,” she slowly moved the wand away from your nipple to draw it between the valley of your breasts, up your throat and along your cheek, just to press it hard into your jaw and chatter your teeth, “you’ll learn your place one day. Until then, I do enjoy teaching you.”

She said this in a mock sympathy, she said it like you should be grateful for her torture and her lessons.

Though, nothing that had happened this evening was surprising, and you should have mentally prepared yourself for the tribulations she would put you through. The foreplay and the lead up to penetration when you were alone with Pam was always maddening.

“He might be big, but no one fucks like me. We have to make sure you’re really ready,” she’d say in her signature drawl as she’d pull out a new toy to use on you.

“Do you think you’ve had enough?” Pam asked flippantly, pushing the head of the vibrator into your cheek firmly once more before taking it off all together.

This time, you knew better than to answer. Both answers were wrong.

“Let’s check, why don’t we?” she posed it as a question but it was rhetorical. Anything Pam wanted to happen, would.

She turned off the wand and placed it to the side, along with many of the instruments she had already or planned on using on you. Unable to crane your neck far enough to watch her walk to your bottom half, you relied on your peripheral vision and the sound of her stilettos on the concrete to alert you. Soon, you felt her icy soft hands part your thighs wider and the sound of a hum leave her lips.

“Would you look at that?” manicured nails came to spread your lips that were dripping with arousal, “quite the excited little slut, aren’t you? You don’t hate your punishments as much as you let on, it seems.”

Her touch felt so good you could barely control the moan that ripped through your chest when three of her flat fingers started to rub the outside of your pussy.

“That’s right, let that brain of yours melt out of your little cunt. You’re so much better when your Mistress’s little fuck doll and nothing more.”

Pam could smell the delicious aroma of your eager pussy and the sweet blood pumping steadily through your femoral artery. She wanted nothing more than to sink her teeth into your skin and let your oozing blood mix with your arousal so she could slurp up her favorite cocktail. But she knew she had to refrain. Eric was always very strict with her biting his pets, especially when he wasn’t around.

“You just can’t resist, can you?” she chuckled lowly and your breath hitched, “pretending to struggle but soaking yourself between your legs.”

You wanted to reply, you wanted to say anything even if it was just to continue to play into the evening, but the second you felt her fingers breach your center, your brain powered down like a TV set.

“Even wetter inside,” she said in faux surprise, “with no resistance.”

“But you know what, little slut? I think I want more. I want your cunt to drool so much it makes a puddle on the floor for me, and then, but only then, will I think about putting a cock in you.”

The idea of finally being filled had you delirious, and when Pam crooked her fingers and started to pump them inside you, you felt crazed. Her skillful finger tips hooked and rubbed over your g-spot so well, you had the brief worry of passing out cross over you.

“Finally being a good girl, huh? A good little toy for me. You were such an insolent little brat earlier, weren’t you? But after a few hours with mistress, suddenly you're the perfect little pet Daddy and I deserve.”

Her fingers started to pick up their pace, “keep this up and who knows what will happen.”

Faster.

“But you better not cum. You better not even think about that pleasure.”

Faster.

“Because good little pets don’t own their orgasms. No, no they do not.”

Faster.

“Pa- Mistress, please, I-” you stuttered, anxiety started to blossom in your chest as you felt your stomach clench.

“Hold it,” she replied firmly, but didn’t stop her assault.

“I’m gonna- please, slow down!”

“I said to hold it.”

But it was too late, you had already started to tip over the edge before you could do anything else to warn her or ward her off. The way she was hitting your g-spot combined with the heavy edging she had subjected you to made your resistance useless.

The second she felt your muscles tighten hard around her fingers, she saw red. She didn’t even contemplate working you through your orgasm as she immediately pulled her fingers out of you, ruining the euphoria of your high as you were left pulsing around nothing and starved of the release you wanted. An involuntary scream left your lips as you began to thrash hard again, but a hard slap to your thigh stopped you.

“You dirty fucking slut! You’re nothing but a greedy little whore whose cunt rules her. You can’t even follow directions,” she stormed around the table to stand by your face, her hand coming to grip your jaw tight and angle it toward her, “fucking say it.”

You were still trying to catch your breath, to come back to your body as salvia caught in your throat.

Another brutal slap sounded through the room as Pam whacked you across the face with anger and conviction. The sharp sting made tears well in your eyes.

“Do I have to make you say it? Move these useless lips myself? You’re supposed to be a good little toy and yet I still do all the work.”

“I’m, I’m nothing but a greedy, a greedy little whore whose cunt rules her. I can’t even follow directions,” you did your very best to choke out.

“Not even an apology,” she scoffed and dropped your head back to the table with a clang.

“I’m-” but she cut you off.

“Save it. I don’t want to hear another word you have to say. Toys don’t need to talk. They have nothing important to say.”

Tears finally fell over your lash line and streaked your cheeks. But you weren’t ready to tap out yet. You didn’t want to.

“You will prove your atonement to me, and you’ll do it with that tongue of yours buried deep in Mistress’s pussy,” Pam sneered as she slapped your face even harder (if that was possible) in the opposite direction, “you better get to work to prove to me that I should show you any semblance of mercy.”

She started to hike up the latex dress she wore, “and you better get to work. We have a long night ahead of us.”

And you as strange as it may have sounded, you looked forward to it.

i haven't written smut in years, and haven't written good smut maybe ever lmao, so i hope this was up to par! forgive any errors, i wrote and edited this at 2am

once again, plllsss read marie's series (and just everything she writes bc holy fuck are they are all so good) also very much blushing reading this back in the light of day who knows if this stays up lmao

#pam true blood smut #pam true blood x reader #pam x reader #pamela swynford de beaufort x reader #pamela ravenscroft x reader #true blood smut #stevesharrlngtonswrites

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queenofimagines · 4 years

Text

It’s Happened Before

Request: “heyy can you do one where y/n normally plays hard to get around guys but when she’s really drunk one guy won’t leave her alone and jj saves her. When he takes her home he’s super sweet and y/n is all over him, he likes it because he has a huge crush on her but then he feels bad bc he doesn’t want to take advantage. At some point y/n thinks that he will take advantage of her in her drunk mind and she says it’s happened before. ((Also love ur writing sm))💜” by @maybebanks

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault

Notes: I’ve never written a fic with sexual assault before so I apologize if it’s inaccurate or insensitive in any way, I promise that is not my intention. If any of you find any discrepancies in my writing of it or find anything offending please let me know so I can fix it and so I can pay attention to it in the future. Thank you!

Also, this ended up being really long... sorry not sorry :)

You loved playing hard to get, and JJ loved that you never made it easy for him. He fell for your spit-fire attitude right away and since then had never stopped trying to make you his. If you were being honest, though, you liked this little game of cat and mouse that you and JJ had started when you met. You liked how he followed you around like a lost puppy, but you also took pride in the fact that you got the JJ Maybank, notorious for only ever having one night stands, to want you and only you.

Everyone knew of your little game, many already thinking of you as JJ’s girl and referring to you as such because of how inevitable it was that you two would end up together. You hoped they were right, and that you and JJ would end up in an actual relationship. You were young, you knew that you still needed to figure out exactly what you wanted out of life and where you wanted it to go, but to you, one thing was for certain: no matter what happened or where you went, you wanted JJ Maybank to be there. But you were scared, scared that he’d get bored of you, scared that he only liked you for the chase. You were by no means a thrill-seeker, often opting to go with the safer options when John B presented you guys with whatever adventurous scheme he had come up with. JJ, on the other hand, liked to run headfirst into danger without even so much as a plan, something that made you uneasy. You were sure that when the chase was over you’d have a few weeks of bliss before the realization that you weren’t actually what JJ wanted would hit him like a sucker punch and that he’d leave you like so many others had. What you didn’t know, though, was that JJ was by no means in it for the thrill of the chase.

JJ saw right through you. He knew that your quick wit was a way for you to cover up your fear and your pain. He knew that fear and pain caused you to lead him on this chase in the first place. And sure, he liked it when you played hard to get, but that wasn’t what drew him in. JJ fell in love with the way you cared about him and the other Pogues. He fell for the way you always seemed to have just enough time in your busy schedule to help Kiara clean up the litter that so many had carelessly left behind at keggers, how you always seemed to have just enough time to cook for John B when he wasn’t taking care of himself like he should have, how you always seemed to know exactly what to say to calm down Pope when he got anxious, how you always kept him out late enough so that he would just have to spend the night with you instead of going home, and how, when it was necessary for him to go home, you always seemed to “accidentally” leave your blankets in his room during winter when you knew it would be freezing. JJ fell in love with you because you cared about him in a way no one else had before, the chase you led him on was just part of the fun, but even without it JJ still would have stared at you as if you had hung the moon just for him.

It was the beginning of summer, and high time for you and the Pogues to throw yet another kegger to kick it off. You, for one, were more than happy to get uninhibitedly drunk to drown out the insecurities you had when it came to your maybe-relationship with JJ. You were on your fourth cup of beer by now, the party only having started less than an hour ago, and to say you were plastered was an understatement. You didn’t have a particularly high tolerance, you and the rest of the Pogues were very aware of that, but you didn’t care, you just wanted to get wasted and have fun. JJ knew something was up with you when you chugged your first beer right away as you weren’t the chugging type. All of the Pogues noticed your strange behavior too. They knew that you were the kind of person to sip your beer until you were buzzed and keep yourself in that state but never surpass it. JJ knew something was wrong and assured Kiara, John B, and Pope that he would keep an eye on you when they brought up that one of them should stay sober enough to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid. He reasoned with them, stating that since he was the only one of the four who hadn’t had at least three beers by this point that he would be the best bet to stay sober. The Pogues were confused, knowing JJ to be the first of them to get completely hammered, but they didn’t question him, instead agreeing and turning back to the party. What he neglected to tell them was that he had already made up his mind to stay sober and watch over you at the beginning of the party and that his decision to have only one beer, although it was more like half a beer since he was trying to be as completely sober as possible without it looking too suspicious, was purposely made before anyone else had even noticed how off you were acting.

You were unaware of the lingering eyes on you, you were also unaware that the eyes staring at your figure weren’t just JJ’s. A boy around your age, a Touron you guessed based on his sweatshirt which sported some college that you just knew wasn’t from anywhere near the Outer Banks, had seen you dancing with some old acquaintances of yours and decided it was time to approach you. You didn’t notice him coming up behind you, but JJ did, he didn’t dare make a move though, knowing you hated that macho bullshit and were perfectly capable of handling yourself, but he was still on edge when the boy placed his hands on your hips.

You thought the boy was JJ, really you did. But the second you pressed your back into him you knew you were sorely mistaken. You quickly turned around, eyeing the boy who had put his hands on you not mere seconds before, telling him to go away. You didn’t want him, you wanted JJ, and even your drunk self knew that you would never want to be dancing with anybody else.

“Come on, baby, let’s just have some fun,” the boy said, grabbing your hips again. But you resisted, pushing him away and beginning to walk away in the hopes that you could find said blondie.

“Hey! Don’t walk away from me,” the boy said, tightly grabbing onto your bicep. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you that it’s rude to ignore someone who’s talking to you?”

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you that you shouldn’t be grabbing girls like that?” JJ responded, having seen the interaction from where he stood near the keg and immediately making his way over to you.

“Listen, buddy, I wasn’t talking to you.” The boy stepped closer to JJ, pushing you out of the way and causing you to trip and fall onto the sand. That did it for JJ, who began throwing punches at the Touron who dared lay a hand on you. The Touron didn’t stand a chance against JJ and you quickly realized that you would have to stop him from killing the boy.

“JJ,” you said meekly, hoping that your voice was loud enough to hear. You didn’t want to talk much louder, your head already pounding from the sudden shift of your body when you fell. But he couldn’t hear you, not over the sound of the crowd egging on the fight.

“JJ!” You yelled, already regretting the decision when you felt the throbbing in your head get worse. JJ stopped, looking over at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Can we just go, please?”

JJ slowly nodded, letting go of the Touron and carefully picking you up to take you back to the Chateau. He sat you down on the couch, beginning to move away to turn the lights on, but your grip on his hand was vice-like.

“Y/N, let me turn on the lights, alright sweetheart?”

“No, stay.” JJ couldn’t fight you when you looked so sleepy and utterly adorable. He made his way next to you on the couch where you proceeded to practically fall into his lap. JJ moved so that you were lying comfortably against him, sure that you would probably just fall right asleep. But instead of hearing your soft snores, he felt your hand reach up into his hair and your lips gently trail across his neck. His heart rate sped up, loving the soft attention he was receiving and pulling you closer, running his hands along your sides, only stopping when he heard your breath hitch and felt your body tense.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He asked.

“N-nothing,” you responded.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He said quickly, afraid that you thought he only wanted to have sex with you and feeling like he was taking advantage of your state of mind by not stopping you from delivering the physical affection he craved. You quickly sat up, staring at him with watery eyes full of disbelief.

“You-you’re not going to...?” You trailed off, not wanting to say it.

“Sweetheart, I’d never take advantage of you like that. Even if you wanted to I wouldn’t let you, you’re not in your right mind right now and I need you to be fully aware if we do this.” He said, thinking that the tears in your eyes and the look on your face were caused by disappointment. Before he knew it you had launched yourself at him, tightly hugging him to you while you sobbed into his shoulder. JJ was beyond confused at this point but he knew that he just needed to be here for you right now. He slowly wrapped his hands around you so as not to startle you.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?”

“For not taking advantage of me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart, I’d never do that to you.” You sniffled, mumbling a response. He dearly hoped you didn’t say what he thought you said, but the waver in your voice at the words you spoke was unmistakable.

“It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.” JJ’s heart broke. Someone had taken advantage of you? He quickly pulled you away from him in order to look at you.

“Who?” He questioned. He was beyond angry, ready to fight the person who had made you feel like you needed to thank him for being a decent fucking human being. You shook your head.

“Some Touron a couple of months ago.” A couple of months ago? How did he not know? How could he have let that happen to you?

“We snuck away from the party, I thought he just wanted to talk but I was just being stupid. He was older and made me feel special so I followed along when he suggested we go somewhere else. H-he started touching me, I didn’t want him to. I told him to stop but he didn’t. He started kissing me and then we heard a gunshot. He bolted as soon as he heard it and I tried to come and find you guys.” You were sobbing at this point, not wanting to remember the moment having not fully processed the situation. JJ began crying too, angry that he didn’t protect you and angry that you had been struggling with this alone.

“No, no, no, that’s not your fault. You weren’t being stupid, okay? I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say, what could he have said? What happened to you wasn’t okay and he wasn’t sure how to handle it either, so he pulled you close to him, letting you cry into his chest despite the pain it caused him to hear your broken sobs. Soon you fell asleep, the rest of the Pogues having come back to the Chateau not too long after, quietly asking JJ if you were alright. JJ shook his head, silently telling them that they’d have that conversation tomorrow. They all nodded, John B heading to his room and Pope and Kie heading to the spare room to give you guys some space.

As JJ lay in the dark, calmed by your steady breathing, he stroked his hand through your hair and promised you that he would protect you, no matter what.

#obx #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx one shot #obx oneshot #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks one shot #outer banks oneshot #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank oneshot #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine

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aizawasthot · 4 years

Note

Aizawa's crush (the reader) walks in on Aizawa masturbating? 😳 Maybe include him thinking bout the reader and saying their name if you want ;p (I was also wondering if it could end with a smutty smutsmut? If that's too much, I'm fine with just the masturbating part uwu)

after hours | aizawa s.

✦pairing: aizawa x fem!reader

✦warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it folks), creampie, dirty talk, kitten kink, zawa calls you lewd, needy reader

✦note: uhhh this is my first smut?????? I know it ain’t much,,, but it’s honest work. but honestly this took too long to post bc im not confident on my smut skills but here u go

✯ ¸ . • ´ * ¨ ` * • ✿ ✿ • * ` ¨ * ` • . ¸ ✯

All you wanted to do was go home after what felt like the most stressful day in your life. It was moving day for the students and you had to fill in paperwork for the day. The day felt so long and exhausting that all you could think off was going home and going straight to bed.

That was until you realized you left your phone— of all things— in your office. Rushing back into the building, you go into your office door and quickly grab your phone from your desk. As you’re about to leave, you hear a quiet whimper from the office next to you— Aizawa’s office. Your curiosity gets the best of you, deciding to check on him to see if he’s alright.

The sight that greets you is heavenly.

Aizawa’s door was slightly ajar, his dimly lit office showing through at the small crack. His head was facing the ceiling with his eyes clenched shut, his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows dryly. His dress shirt was untucked, a few buttons undone, showing just enough of his skin to get you hot. The light from his desk lamp hitting his toned chest just right, covered in a sheen of sweat. Your eyes travel down, his pants unzipped and lowered just around his thighs— fuck. Aizawa’s hands were on his member, stroking at a painfully slow pace, the head of his cock was red and dripping with pre-cum, glistening under the dim light—

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunts, a little louder this time, his voice raspy. “Shit, oh yeah baby, please— fuck.” He bucks his hips up, you feel your cunt throb at the sight of him pleading, thinking of you as he ruts into his hand.

You couldn’t stop yourself as a small whimper left your throat— shit.

His head whipped in your direction, eyes snapping open as he stares at you, mouth open.

Oh no.

“I’m— I didn’t mean to— I just wanted to check on you, I’m sorry!” you blurt out, face reddening as you turn to look away. “I thought you were hurt, I didn’t mean to…. watch… Anyway, ha yeah I think you look… fine. Have a good night, sorry again—“ You try to turn and leave but he was faster than you, his hand already grabbing your wrist as he leads you into his office. You’re about to have a goddamn heart attack and it’s because he’s so fucking fine.

“Were you enjoying the show, princess?” Aizawa purred, gesturing for you to sit on his desk while he sits across from you on his chair.

“M-maybe,” you breathe out, not caring that you were obviously eye-fucking him at this point. He looked captivating, erotic, beautiful.

“Did you like it?” He moves his hands, gently caressing your thigh through your skirt as he massages your thigh; calloused hands moving tenderly, moving closer and closer to your heat.

A small moan was your answer. He chuckles, still gently pressing his hands on you; a finger unexpectedly brushing against your panties. “Use your words, baby. I want to hear you,” he breathes out behind your ear. He presses a kiss against the sensitive skin and he dips his head lower, nipping on your neck. “Cat got your tongue?” He smirks against your skin, his hands now moving to untuck your shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons. Aizawa continues his assault on your skin, moving lower to the junction of your neck and shoulder, taking his sweet time sucking and licking, which would definitely leave marks.

“Ai— ah, Aizawa,” you moan softly. You felt lightheaded; it felt too hot and he was too close and it’s all too much. It was no secret that you liked Aizawa, even your students seem to notice. You certainly wanted this. You didn’t exactly dislike what’s happening, in fact you’ve taken a little more than a liking to Aizawa, but this— it’s all too overwhelming and too fast. Still, you wanted more, more of him.

“What, baby? Want me to stop?” Aizawa whispers, his hands going under your shirt as he places them at your hips, gently squeezing. Your body shudders under his heavy gaze; taking in how beautiful you looked, appreciating every dip and curve.

“No— oh god, please no,” you whimper. Realizing that your hands have been idle the whole time, you let them wander his exposed chest; he was too covered, you thought, and you start to unbutton the rest, sliding the shirt completely off. “God, you’re beautiful,” you breathe out, your own eyes taking him in; all muscle and angles, glowing in the dim light.

“That’s all you,” he chuckles, mirroring your movements as he helps you out of your shirt. His hands travel to your covered chest, letting his fingers wander at the edge of your bra, teasing. This little shit, you thought, arching your back while he continues to remove your bra at a maddeningly slow pace, clearly having too much fun watching you squirm.

“I swear, Aizawa— fuck, stop teasing,” you pant, gripping his neck as he kisses between your breasts; you can feel just the slightest press of his lips, that fucking tease. You can feel his smirk, his hands moving up to your breasts as he massages them; his thumbs brushing against your hardening nipples. Oh, that felt good.

“Patience, babe,” he orders under his breath, moving up to give you a kiss. Tender lips capturing your own as he kisses you so gentle you feel like you’re going to faint— and then something in him snapped; suddenly he’s kissing you harder, his tongue swiping on your bottom lip as if asking for permission. His hands are exploring your body; on your breasts, fondling and kneading, moving to grab on your ass, Aizawa grinding your clothed cunt on his crotch that got you so wet.

“A-Aizawa I need more,” you break the kiss, panting. You could feel the mess in your panties as Aizawa chuckles, seeing the need in your eyes. He lays you down on his desk, pushing up your skirt as he did so. He starts to trail kisses on your legs up to your inner thigh, he’s so damn close you could feel his breath on your covered cunt.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Is this all for me, huh? You enjoy watching me get off at the thought of you?” He taunts, a smirk adorns his face as he removes your panties, taking a second to admire just how excited you were for him. “What a beautiful cunt,” he says, looking up to stare at your needy, desperate eyes.

“Please, Aizawa. I need you,” you whine, bucking your hips up. You were getting wetter by the second— you needed him.

“Don’t worry, babe, I’ve got you,” he coos, moving closer to your heat, so close you could almost feel him. He licks a stripe up your cunt and you almost came right there and then. His tongue assaults your cunt mercilessly, lapping up your essence like a starved man; his mouth sucking on your clit so damn good you feel like you’re about to pass out.

“Aihhh- Aizawa, fuck,” you moan, hands landing on his head to push your cunt closer to his face, relishing on how fucking perfect he makes you feel. You feel him smirk against you as he complies and pulls you closer to him. Jesus fuck, this man is driving you crazy.

“Who knew this kitten was so lewd?” AIzawa pulls away for a second, making sure to let you see him licking your juices off his lips. “Such a good kitten,” he says lowly, his index finger teasing your entrance.

“Please,” you whine, writhing on the table, desperate for more, desperate for him. He chuckles, giving in and pushing his finger into you. He pumps his finger slowly, watching you sigh in relief to get what you wanted.

“You’re so warm and tight, kitten. So excited for me,” he mumbles, his mouth latching onto your pussy again, licking and sucking on your bud, sending tingles up your spine. Your eyes roll as his movements become more erratic, he adds another finger in your cunt and curls them, hitting that sweet spot. He keeps at it, lapping up your juices and fucking you with his fingers, making you moan louder and louder.

“Aizawa… ngh,” you whine, feeling yourself come closer to the edge.

“Shouta,” he mumbles against your clit, “Call me Shouta.” His tongue continues to circle on your clit, eating you out like a starved man. The pleasure was too much, and you knew you weren’t going to last.

“Shouta, I’m— ohh, I’m going to c-cum,” you moan fingers deep in his hair as you chase your high. Every little flick of his tongue was sending you, every centimeter that his hand moves makes you shiver in pleasure.

Aizawa chuckles against your cunt, sending another wave of pleasure. “I’ve got you, yeah? Cum on my fingers babe, let it go,” he mumbles. His fingers and tongue not stopping for a second until you saw white.

“F-fuck! I’m coming, Shou— ahhh don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop,” you chant through broken breaths, your whole body shaking from all the pleasure and stimulation.

“You look fuckin’ hot cumming on my fingers, kitten,” he whispers, making sure to show you how he sucks on his fingers, lapping up your essence. “Now you’re nice and ready for me,” he smirks, flipping you around and bending you over the desk, one of his hands cupping your breast while the other lovingly strokes your ass.

“Fuck, Shouta I need you,” you whine, pushing your ass up and grinding it on his crotch, letting your juices spread on his hard cock. “Need you so bad,” you murmur. Jesus fuck you were so damn hot for him.

“Mmm, so damn wet,” he hums, gripping your hips as he turns you around on the desk; ass up, face down. “So fuckin’ hot,” he bends down, softly kissing the spot behind your ear as he slowly rolls his hips against your cunt.

“Shouta,” you moan, pushing against him. “I need you, please,” you almost cry out, shivering with how sensitive you still were from your recent high.

“So impatient,” he says, stroking his cock. “What do you want, kitten?”

“I need you, Shou,” you whine, craving to feel his dick inside you. “Need you to fuck me, fuck me so hard that I forget my own name, fuck me so deep I lose—“ you gasp, Aizawa pushing his cock inside you before you could finish “—my minddd~.”

“Such a dirty, dirty mouth,” he tuts, gripping your hips as he pulls out and slams harder into you.

“Only for you~,” you tease as you arch your back, slowly losing your mind at how big he feels inside you. “Jesus, fuck, you’re so big,” you moan out, gripping the edge of the table.

“Fuck, kitten,” he breathes out, hands on your hips; his pace not slowing down. “You’re so fucking tight, shit— your pussy is sucking me in,” Aizawa was going crazy, his head spinning at just how perfect you felt.

With his comment, you felt compelled to clench around his length. “So good,” you whine, pleasure building back up again as he ruts into you. “Faster,” you command, trying to meet his thrusts, eager to chase your high.

“You, shit— close?” Aizawa groans, ignoring you and doing the exact opposite of what you wanted, his pace slowing only to pull out of you completely to flip you around; your eyes meet and you notice the longing and appreciative way his eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of your body, burning the image on his brain. “Need to see your face as you cum around my dick,” he hums, not wasting any more time as he thrusts back into you. His pace was unrelenting as he fucked you on the desk, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer.

“I’m gonna cum, Shouta,” you whimper, nails raking down his back. Shouta thrusts deeper into you and captures your lips in a bruising kiss as you reach your climax. You clench around his cock, and that was what tipped him over the edge, groaning as he came inside you. You bit into the meat of his shoulder, your body convulsing from the pleasure tingling all over your body.

“Fuck,” he breathes out as he pulls out, watching his cum drip out of your pussy. He props you up and carries you as he sits on his chair, letting you straddle him. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, kitten,” he chuckles, leaning on the chair.

You hum in response, nuzzling into his chest, feeling more than content to stay like this forever. “We should get cleaned up,” you murmur, fingers finding their way into his hair, scratching his scalp gently.

“My place is near,” he says, smirking. “You up for another round?”

Screw sleeping, this was way better.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa imagine #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #mha imagines

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ka-za-ri · 4 years

Note

34 and 11 please with Lucifer and Simeon.

So, I couldn’t tell if you meant Lucifer/Simeon as a pair or Lucifer and Simeon with the reader... sooo I just went with it. Took me a while to figure out how to write this with a good dynamic. A little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst, a lot of romance... I hope you like it! (unedited bc we die like heroes here) Gender Neutral Reader

_(:3 」∠)_

Part of the Two-Part Drabble Game Requests

Setting: Date gone wrong Quote: “Your hand is in my personal space. Not that I mind. Character: Lucifer and Simeon

It was supposed to be a cute little outing downtown with Simeon. It was supposed to be a well deserved break from your hectic life to unwind and spend some time with the guy you liked. It was supposed to be the perfect day out. Some lunch, some window shopping, maybe a stroll in the park and then watching the sunset together.

Supposed to be.

However, neither of you had been made aware of the festival being held in town that day. Instead of the usual bustle of a reasonably busy weekend, the streets were packed with crowds. Your senses were assaulted by all the sounds, smells and sensations that came with a festival.

At first, you wanted to ride it out, pretend it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. However, Simeon could sense your discomfort with having to deal with so many people in one place at one time. “Let’s go somewhere else.” he suggested when he noticed the way you flinched at any remotely loud, sudden sound.

You were more than happy to get out of the thick of things and to somewhere quieter. Simeon seemed to know all of the good hole-in-the-wall cafes and brought you to one of his favorites. Immediately, the warm wood finishing and the quiet chatter put you in a much more agreeable state of mind.

Simeon led you to a quiet corner of the cafe once your orders had been retrieved and placed his hand on top of yours. “Sorry I didn’t plan this day better.” he apologized, rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand. “I know how you are with crowds and I didn’t think to look…”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink and letting the familiar flavors take the edge of your frazzled nerves more. “It’s okay.” You reassured him. Though the date hadn’t gone as planned, you still got to spend some quality time with him. “I don’t think either of us really looked up if there was going to be anything going on downtown today. It’s neither here nor there.”

He smiled softly, adoring how you were still so determined to be out and about with him despite usually being an introvert. It was a rare opportunity for both of you to have time to do anything like this. Simeon didn’t have the right words to quite express just how happy he was to just have time with you. “Well, since we’re here, I think I remember there’s a pa--”

“Simeon?”

Simeon stopped mid sentence when he heard his name being called. He looked around to see who the owner of the voice was and as soon as he saw who it was, he broke out in a wide grin. “Lucy? Is that really you? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Simeon scooted his seat over to allow Lucifer to join in. You stared, dumbfounded at the sudden intrusion, but didn’t question it. The way Simeon beamed and grinned when he saw this person was an expression you rarely saw. It was likely best to leave things for the time being.

“It has been a while, hasn’t it? And who might this be?”

“My partner!” Simeon stated proudly before introducing you to him.

“A pleasure to meet you. Lucifer.” The stranger greeted smoothly before pulling up a chair to join you at the table. “I hope I’m not intruding on your date together.”

“Oh, no not at all.”

It would have been rude to interject and tell him that he was intruding. You had to keep Simeon’s smile in mind. It was an expression you rarely got to see. He was usually so cool and collected, seeing him so animated was a bit of treat for you. For his sake, you didn’t want to cause a scene. Your initial date plans had been foiled anyway, it wasn’t like your day could get any worse, right?

“Lucy and I go way back.” Simeon explained. “At least two decades.”

“I think it’s a little more than that.” Lucifer chimed in. “And can you not call me that in public?”

“Okay fine Lucifer.” Simeon corrected himself. “What have you been up to these past few years? I feel like we lost all contact after you quit your last job.”

“Ah, well…”

What they had was a bond that went beyond what you could ever hope to achieve. The way they interacted and reminisced about the times they had together pushed a thorn of envy into your heart. They had all the time in the world and you had only ever occupied a fraction of Simeon’s life. It didn’t feel right to cut into their conversation as they reminisce over the past and caught up.

They pulled you into a life with them that you could never experience. The drink in your hand grew tepid as the hours went by and they continued to chat. It was almost as if you weren’t there, as if you didn’t matter. Despite being surrounded by people, it felt oddly lonely to be at that table with them. They were in their own little world and you could only imagine what it would have been like if you were with them.

For a moment, you were pulled out of the romantic moment you were having with Simeon to see him in a way you were never permitted to. This stranger and his stories about his life drew out an energy and a life no one ever got to see. It was an odd magic Lucifer had and you were equal parts grateful and envious of it.

There was something that drew even you in. Lucifer had a way with words that had you entranced and falling in love with the world he built. You could understand how Simeon seemed to be so smitten with reconnecting with him. The stories he shared were mundane yet somehow so colorful, you could imagine yourself right there with him. It put you in a comfortable lull and you didn’t mind being so quiet during the time the three of you shared.

“So what brought you out to this side of town anyway?” Lucifer asked, turning to you for a change and dragging you into the conversation.

You snapped out of your daze and blinked. Surely he was asking Simeon and not you; however, when you looked up at your partner, you were surprised to see that he too was looking at you, waiting for an answer. “Ah, well…” You laughed nervously, fidgeting with the empty cup in your hands. “We were supposed to be on a date downtown…”

“So I was interrupting something.”

“Well, no. I mean, it was too crowded downtown so we left early.” You shrugged, pretending it didn’t affect you as much as it did. Having a whole day of plans ruined more than once weighed heavily on your shoulders. But, moving the focus to yourself was selfish and rude. After all, Simeon hadn’t seen Lucifer in years, you weren’t about to break up a long awaited reunion. “It’s not a big deal. It’s probably better that we ended up here anyway.”

Lucifer hummed, tapping his finger on the table and assessing the energy between all parties at the table. “Well, I apologize nonetheless for interrupting and usurping your time. Allow me to make it up to you both.”

You learned quickly that Lucifer moved the world at his own pace and all in his wake were helpless in objecting his whims. He led the two of you out of the quiet cafe and onto the streets washed with the warm oranges of a perfect sunset. One of his hands held onto Simeon while the other near dragged you along to follow his impossibly quick gait.

He moved with a grace and a purpose you wouldn’t have expected for someone traveling so fast. You stumbled, half jogging to keep up with him. You didn’t know if you should be worried about where you were being taken. Simeon’s cheerful laugh as he was being towed behind Lucifer seemed to at least bode well.

While the scenery flashed by you and all you could do was focus on keeping up with Lucifer’s long strides and purposeful direction. You could only hope that he wasn’t about to lead you to your untimely demise. While frantically trying to match his pace, you realized that you couldn’t deny how easily this man had injected himself into your life. The way he asserted himself and dominated the pace of the day had you a little bit infatuated with him. His life beyond the little tidbits he shared at the coffee table had piqued your interest and left you yearning for more of his stories. The backdrop of Simeon’s gleeful laughing only added to his allure as it seemed like this man was the only person in the world who could pull such strong emotions out of your partner.

By the time he let the two of you stop and catch your breath, you were greeted with a grand view of the town below you. If you squinted, you could make out the rough outline of the downtown buildings where your day had begun. The sun had just sunk past the horizon and twilight washed across the city. Tiny twinkling lights from the windows illuminated the darkened residential areas, bringing the night sky to earth.

Further, the distinct whistle and pop of fireworks went off where the festival was being held. You made your way over the railing at the ledge you had arrived at and leaned against it to get the best view of the show. “Oh wow, I didn’t know this place existed.” You breathed, admiring the light show.

“Hopefully it makes up a little for the awful date this has been.” Simeon apologized softly, he reached for your hand and squeezed it softly. “It’s been a bit of a flop, huh?”

You giggled, it was impossible to be mad at him when he was so cute. Oblivious as he might be, you could forgive him for one terrible date. “Well, really, you have to thank your friend for saving it.”

Simeon tilted his head and looked at Lucifer who had joined you at the railing and mouthed a quick thanks in his direction. Lucifer only shrugged, waving it off as if he did things like this on a regular basis.

While they had their little silent exchange, you let your emotions stew. You were being unreasonably selfish wanting to keep Simeon in your life while also getting to know Lucifer better. The two of them had a chemistry you couldn’t deny and if all things didn’t work out in the end, you reasoned it would only bring them together while you made a graceless exit out of their lives. Perhaps it was the overall romantic ambience that emboldened you to go for it.

You tried to be subtle, but you were sure Lucifer was the kind of person who took note of everything that happened around him. Before you could reach out for him, you felt his fingers pull your hand closer to his, lacing themselves in between his own and securing your palm against his.

“Uhm… Excuse me, your hand is in my personal space….” You paused, averting your gaze and trying not to be too flustered about it. “Not that I mind…” You mumbled the last part as the boom and crackle of the fireworks drowned out your words.

One hand held the love of your life, the other held the hand of an alluring stranger who had an impossibly strong pull. Between them, you were torn and impossibly selfish, wishing you could have both in your lives. The show was dying down and before it ended, you knew you had to make a choice.

“So, Lucifer.” You started, finally gathering up enough courage to look him in the eye. “How about you come over for dinner sometime?”

“That sounds lovely, I would be honored to join you.”

Behind you, Simeon leaned to the side, catching his old friend’s eyes. He grinned from ear to ear, winking knowingly and squeezed your hand in reassurance.

Perhaps the date wasn’t a total flop after all.

#Simeon x Reader #Lucifer x Reader #Simeon x Lucifer #Simeon x Lucifer x Reader #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Simeon #obey me fanfiction #my writing #requests #Anonymous #Happy sunday #I have never had a single coherent thought in my life

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anonymous0writer · 4 years

Text

Saving You III JJ Maybank

Part Two: Toeing the Line

Author: @anonymous0writer

Summary: You and JJ had been best friends for as long as you lived. But the feelings that would change your status haven’t been said. Will the words ever be said?

Warnings: Parental abuse/abuse, (more in detail..) swearing.. Going into detail about emotions? I don’t know...

A/N: This one is really long bc I went back to edit and added a shit tom of detail and angst ig. Also, I tried to edit it the best I could.. Anyway, I really like this series, and I’m gonna be so sad when its done even though I’m on the second part, lol.

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There was something in the air. Maybe it was the tang of rain just before it hit. Or maybe it was the way the clouds looked a little darker than the hour before. Whatever it was, it was there. Twisting and churning feeling that sat in his gut, making his face twist in sickness. It was like stepping off a plane, the indescribable feeling of you not begin right. Like you were meant to be in the air, pressure against your ears and flying in the sky, not dropped to the ground, heavy and lost. But no matter it was, the foreboding was there. Settled into his stomach like a lithe creature, ready to strike when the moment came.

He didn’t know what it was, but it was like the calm before the storm. The crispness of the air, the sharp tang of rain about to fall, and then it hits. The consuming, hoard of dark clouds, rolling over the sky in a furious march. Clouds that left the bone quivering, earth shaking booms of thunder and the wicked crack of lightening that light up the world for a second, before plummeting it into darkness.

The storm that brought destruction and havoc and sorrow. But so elegant in the way it destroyed you didn’t even think about it until you were left with the pieces of its aftermath.

It was like a hurricane. Blowing and whipping furiously, making it way to you, eating up the miles in its path, determined to destroy everything. It was hurtling toward you, and you were powerless to stop it, only able to hunker down and let it happen.

Whatever it was it was going to bad, and it made him sick. It was a knot in his stomach that tightened and made him sicker. He leaned forward, eyebrows pressed together in worry. What the hell was going to happen today?

---------

Y/N batted her friends grabby hands away, laughing at the same time. JJ smirked, able to get a loose fry with his agile fingers. Y/N squawked, her lips tugging into a frown as she watched the boy munch on the food happily.

“JJ!” She called, her agitation masking the way she melted and loved that he felt so comfortable to do the simple act of stealing a fry.

The boy smirked. “I’ll let you beat me to a wave today,” The boy winked, trying to make it up to her.

Y/N hide her smile as she moved her head so her long hair slid off her shoulder, dropping in front of her face. However JJ feared that he had actually made the girl mad at him, and leaned forward, fingers subconsciously brushing her hair back, tucking the loose stands back in place.

“Are you mad at me?”

Y/N gasped softly at the feeling of the edges of JJ’s fingertips ghosting her cheek and tucking her hair behind her ear. Her throat bobbed, and her eyes flickered to meet JJ’s. But Y/N was good at recovering fast, and she giggled, pushing the boy away again,

“JJ, stop!” Her lips split, revealing a full smile that lit up her face and made the edges of her eyes wrinkle. JJ loved that smile with everything he got, and always hated the way it disappeared. So, trying to get the smile back, his fingers reached out to attack her sides in tickles.

Soon enough, Y/N was laughing madly, head thrown back and hair in her face, as she tried to take a much needed breath, her hands pushing away the relentless ones of her best friend. JJ grinned, blue eyes shining as he continued his playful assault, coaxing gasps and squeals from his best friend.

“Alright, alright! J!” Y/N gasped, and the blonde let up, allowing her to catch a breath.

Across from the best friends sat the rest of their group. Pope was staring with eyebrows raised, and John B. was smirking at the pair, while Kie was cleaning up their mess so her father wouldn’t get mad.

“You two are on crack, I swear.” John B. muttered, popping a fry in his mouth as he leaned back in his chair, tipping it slightly.

“Shut up, John B!” Y/N yelled, a mischievous smirk plastered on her sunlit face. She reached into her basket of quickly diminishing fries and hurtled one at the tall boy across from her.

A thud sounded as John B.’s chair dropped and he retaliated with a fry in Y/N’s face. The revenge blew into a full on fry fight, and the friends were laughing and ducking from the onslaught of fries headed their way.

As JJ chucked a ketchup soaked fry toward Pope, he felt so happy. His eyes wandered to see Kie and Y/N huddled together, battling away the fries raining down on them with loud rounds of laughter. He took a split second break to admire his best friend since he was eight. She was beautiful, with her laugh that made everyone join in, with her kind words and big heart and her smile that had every person that met her falling in love.

But the fun was ended by Mr. Carrera and his sharp yell through the empty restaurant.

“Hey, knock it off.” He frowned, eyes landing on his daughter. “I thought I told you not to waste my food.” He grumbled, soon focusing on cleaning a spot on the counter.

“Sorry dad.” Kie winced, and smacked Pope’s hand with a glare as he tried to pick up a fry. “It’s getting late,” She comments, looking out the window of the Wreck, watching the sun sink lower into the horizon. “If we want to catch some waves,”

“We gotta go now.” Y/N finishes for her, hands scrambling to clean up the table now littered with grease soaked fries and splotches of ketchup and mustard. “John B, come on!” She chided as the boy waited a second too long to join in the collective work to clean up.

He jumped in, but JJ held back, struck frozen by the sinking feeling in his gut. His stomach knotted, giving him the feeling he woke up with this morning.

The calm before the storm.

“JJ?” Y/N prodded, eyes finding his as her eyebrows pushed together. She stood, brushing off her cutoffs with harsh wipes of her hands. Her eyes fixated on her friend, confusing pulling her eyebrows together. “Hey, J?” Her voice cooed, calling out to the blonde.

“Shit,” The surfer muttered, taking his hat off to run a hand through his messy hair. His blue eye seemed distant, but they were wide, like a child who forgot to do a chore and their parent was soon to catch them. “Fuck, you guys I gotta dip.”

“What? Where are you-” Kie started, but the boy was already off, spiriting through the Wreck’s door. His figure jumped on his bike, and soon he sped away, gravel spewing and the blue shirt he wore fading into a small speck until it was gone from sight.

Kie sputtered, eyebrows pulling down as her lips curved into a soft frown. “What the hell was that?”

Y/N takes a second before pulling her eyes away from where JJ ran off. Worry churned in her gut, as she finally lets her eyes tear away from the scene.

“I don’t know.” She breaths, trying to quell the bad feeling.

But she knows it hopeless. She’s always had a sixth sense when JJ was in trouble. Yet this time, that horrid feeling is coupled with another. It feels like her fear of something bad happening, but you have no control of it.

To Y/N, it felt exactly like the calm before a storm.

--------

“You worthless piece of shit!” The screams curl into JJ’s face, stale beer and bad breath hitting him in a wave. The boy presses himself back farther, the untamed wood digging into his back. His face scrunches up, and he tries desperately to block out the words.

The words crest and break in the blonde’s ear, settling deep into his brain, and joining the other nasty words thrown at him by his father. The words shook him to the core, bone quaking, eyes swimming and blood sizzling. His anger built higher and higher, growing rapidly, morphing into a beast. Anger at his father, for the shitty life handed to him and the only thing in the refrigerator was a week old beer his father downed every day. Anger at the world, for turning its back on him, shutting him out and letting him suffer. Suffer at the hands of his father. Who couldn’t stay sober for his life. And couldn’t ease the anger towards his son either. It all came to a 360, didn’t it?

But another feeling roared in him, unable to be put out like a simple fire. This feeling was almost as powerful at his anger, close, but not quite. This feeling wasn’t powerful in the ascend. Only in the descend. The emotion, the feeling that ran through his veins, running with the anger and doubling its strength was helpless pain. It was like being too close to the edge, where you looked down, breath catching, eyes watering at the wind, heart speeding. Where even though you tried to calm yourself with ragged breaths, your heart sped up into a gallop, beating wildly in your chest cavity, palms slick with sweat and ragged breaths pulling your chest in and out. It was when your hands shook, and your eyes burned and you were so angry that it took over every sense. When the anger was the only thing. Anger at nothing and everything. Anger burning in your chest as your hands lost control, and your mind reeled. Anger that clouded your brain like a disease, so fast and quick you didn’t even realize. The feeling that brought you to your knees when it rose to its height. Where your thoughts streamed so fast you could process everything and nothing. Where your bones stopped, and you sagged, the fight escaping you like a soul to a body. The fight, the survival instinct, the anger, it all faded, leaving you to break down, mind still reeling, hands still shaking, breaths still ragged. It was that feeling. The feeling of everything in you giving up to a break down. Where your thoughts broke on you, turning against you and watching you fall apart.

“Shut up!” JJ screams back, face contorting as he tries to handle the emotions raging in his chest. They were too much. He didn’t handle emotions well, not when they were like this. Not when they exploded and raged and screamed like this. He couldn’t handle the wailing symphony of his fathers words and the feelings of pain and anger rose to a crescendo in his ears. “Just shut up!”

He was yelling. Trying to block out the orchestra in his ears. To stop the emotions beating in his chest like they were alive. To stop his fathers lying, withering words from taking root in his mind and growing like a weed. He was trying to shut everything out. Because he couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle the way his fathers hands never failed to hurt, and his father words never failed to sting, and the way eyes never failed to pity as they landed on the bruises that seemed like permanent markings on his skin.

Luke’s fist slams into his son’s cheek, filed by rage and the abundance of alcohol. The hit sent JJ sideways, knees slamming into the floor with a hard thud as pain split across his face like a rapid spiderweb. It worked it’s way into every fiber of his face, searing and never ending. His jaw clenches, sending another wave of pain through his body, making his brain go fuzzy as his vision danced. His mind was slipping, trying to process the amount of pain, but failing to do so.

But magically, it cleared. The fog dispersed and gave way to sharp images, sending the boy back into reality, where his fathers fists were too real and the pain was too clear. But the haze only cleared to let another emotion peek through as he heard it. Heard the sound of gravel crunching under tires and brakes squeaking as the engine rumbled, dying. Pain slithered away into the corners of his brain to give way to a more powerful emotion. Fear. Fear because he knew exactly whose there’s that care belonged to. Knew exactly the way the gravel surrendered under the weight of a certain tire. Of a certain car. The car belonged to her. Y/N.

She was here, knowing something was terribly wrong the second the boy stopped reveling in the childish food fight. Because she always did. Her gut always twisted a certain way, giving her a bad feeling that never faded until she investigated. She always seemed to know when he was in trouble and came running, eager to ease the feeling and help. She’d gotten that sense the moment the boys eyes landed on her all those years back. It was a gift. A gift, a connection between two people who’s love ran deeper than blood and deeper than words itself. But in most cases, the gift was a curse. Because every time her gut twisted that way, or she’d frown because she felt undeniably wrong, JJ was hurt, beaten bloody by his own father. Most of the time she showed up when Luke was passed out drunk on the couch, chest rising in falling in a drunken slumber, JJ visiting a world of pain on the floor or gripping his head like it was going to burst as he sat, door locked in his bedroom. But now she’d shown up when Luke was towering over the blonde, words bellowing out of his heaving chest.

“No,” JJ whispers, fear spiking in his chest, hitting a certain place in his heart. Everything- the anger, the helplessness, the crescendo of wails and words screamed by his father- died. Faded into the background to bow to the new comer. Fear. Not fear of his father. Not fear that his father would go too far and actually kill him. Not it wasn’t fear for him. This fear was for his best friend. His bright eyed, smiling friend who he’d fallen in love with,

His fear was for Y/N. Fear that she’d get hurt. And if she got hurt- JJ wouldn’t even allow the thought to fully develop or form into a real sentence. He couldn’t- wouldn’t go there. The thought brought too many already present emotions and more to the front.

As the surfer tried to scramble away, the pads of his fingers digging into the fought grain of the wooden floor, he was grabbed. Luke flipped JJ over, hands rough, and words hitting JJ’s ear, making the boy flinch. Fists started raining down on his face, head smashed into the worn floorboards of the house. The blondes eyes fluttered shut, his brain threatening to stop. JJ was in too much pain, his mind clouded and vision swimming to hear the porch door and the main door smack open. It was too late. Too late to get up, shove his dad off and beg Y/N to leave, let his father run his course. But pain was a powerful thing, leaving JJ prone on the floor as the door to the house of pain opened to reveal Y/N.

“Stop!” Her screams ran through the air, snapping her best friend out of his haze of misery. “What are you doing?” Her voice wavered, breaking as it gave away to fear and distress. Worry seeped into the words, making her cries desperate.

The boy on the floor groans, heat splitting in pain as he moves, picking himself up. He stumbles, knees threatening to give way, and face bruised and bloody. His lips are cracked and parted, blood leaking from an open wound, thick and dark. His cheek is swollen, red and puffy with purple blooming across it like a wildfire. It was like the purple of the fading sunset, elegant and soft for such an alarming, pain filled color. A cut mars his right eyebrow, breaking up the symmetry of his abuse. His eyes are sad, the azure color dulled and faded, weak without the light of his usual smile or carefree laugh. His lips don’t tug into a flirty smirk, but frown in a soft, giving up manner.

When he opens his mouth, he finds his might too dry and throat too clogged to speak. So he tried again, voice hoarse and broken. “Get out of here!” He begs, fear and desperation thick in his rough voice. His pleas reach his friend, sounding harsher than he intended. Subconsciously, the JJ places himself in front of Y/N and his seething father. His hands are still shaking, weak and bruised as he holds them up, trying to keep his fathers hands of misery away from the perfect light of his best friend.

“What is she doing her?” Luke barks, his voice rapsy with the gruffness of a man with only anger and cheap alcohol in his blood can obtain.

“I’m gonna get her out dad. Alright? We’re gonna leave.” JJ’s hands shake more as he plays mediator, eyes beseeching his unforgiving father. He swallows the lump in his throat, trying to quell the soreness. He’s begging. Begging with his father to let them go- or at least Y/N. And begging with his best friend to leave, leave so his father can keep his reign of terror focused on the blonde and not her.

“You’re not leaving!” Luke thundered, brows glaring down as he surveyed the two kids. His stained tank top lifted at uneven intervals as his chest heaved, ragged breaths pulling in and out of his frowning mouth. His lips were screwed into a disgust filled sneer.

But Y/N wasn’t having it. JJ’s cerulean eyes flickered to meet hers, seeing them spark with fire and sadness. A combination her best friend knew too well. So, with a rare surge of bravery, fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins at the best of her thundering heart, she stepped forward. Her feet groaned against the wood as she went forward, short, quiet gasps falling from her dry lips. She was now exposed to Luke’s fury. JJ was no longer in front of her, protecting her. And it was her own doing.

“Stop it! He doesn’t deserve it.” Y/N’s voice was ragged, seeping with desperation as she begged with the inconsolable man in front of her.

JJ’s heart twisted at the words, squeezing painfully as it hammered against his bruised ribs. Breath caught, he stopped, but he was too late. He wasn’t in front of her in time, wasn’t meditating like he was begging for life. He was too late. Luke’s hand was already flying, and the loud sound of skin hitting skin filled the room. The sound was enough to make JJ flinch, a smack and cry sounding. The cry ripping from a familiar throat, provoked by the shock and pain. Y/N fell, the power of the slap sending her to her knees. She hit the floor, ground thundering as her hands flew to her cheek. Her fingers were gentle, exploring the source of pain now stinging across her face.

JJ was positive that he could hear his heart crack. Positive that the sound of it was breaking wasn’t only in his ears, adding to the decrescendo of wails and words in his ears. The boy was sure, if you looked hard enough, you could see the soft, yet strong webbing of his heart break and fall into tiny, sharp pieces, lost in his rib cage.

“Dad!” He screamed, shock forcing the words from his constricted throat. His ocean eyes brimming with tears and clouding his vision as he watched you gasp, red blooming fast on your cheek from where his father hit you. His father. Leaving his own abuse mark. On you. On the one person JJ cared about more than himself. On the one person he wouldn’t think twice about giving his life for. On the one person he promised nothing would happen to. On the one person he loved with every bit of his fucked up self.

He broke his gaze on your to look at his father. Despite his mind still trying to process everything- everything from the downhill spiral of his roaring emotions and the increased climb of his pain- he thought fast. Quicksilver. Turning to his father, he put his hands- now less shaky- up in surrender. His cerulean eyes were back to begging. “Alright.. We’re leaving. I’m getting her out of here, alright?”

Luke’s lips curled into a sneer, and he spit on the floor, eyes hard and filled with disgust and to JJ’s relief, disinterest. His father turned away, searching for a beer like a lost man at sea for land. Once he was sure, his fathers mind was only on the cheap alcohol littering the house, JJ spun, eyes zoning in on his best friend. His blue eyes locked on your figure.

Breathing her name in a ragged whisper, JJ dropped to his knees next to her, ignoring the pain exploding like rouge fireworks in every part of his body. The wince didn’t hide the pain, but the boy was used to hiding. He ignored his pain, lips pressed together in a thin, determined line. Because the bruised ribs and face that were throbbing and screaming were nothing compared to the way his heart broke and seized at seeing you fall victim to his fathers vicious hands.

“Hey,” He whispered, voice barely audible as he called out to his friend. His fingers reached, touching the soft underside of her jaw as his hands cupped Y/N’s cheeks like they were glass.

Y/N’s heart ached at the way JJ cupped her face. Like she was so fragile and could break with the slightest pressure. Like he didn’t want to hurt her, and only craved to protect her. Alike he was sorry, and he couldn’t convey it in words, so he tried in touch. Like he was heartbroken over seeing her like this.

JJ’s eyes swam with unshed tears as they pooled. His attentive eyes saw the familiar welt form on your cheek bloom like a flower in spring. The welt was big and angry, making the boy clench his jaw tightly. His nostrils flared as his ears registered the gasp falling from your parted lips and the hurt look in your eyes.

And he realized. The bad feeling this morning. The creature settling in his gut, waiting to strike. The feeling that reminded JJ of the times a hurricane would be broadcasted on the TV screen, the brightness of the pictures blaring and the detached voices of newscasters loud. This, this right here- his best friend sitting on the floor, bruising cheek cradled in his rough hands, both of them victims of his father- was the foreboding in his gut in the early morning.

Before- that was the calm before the storm.

And this- this was worse. This was the crashing of the waves after cresting to a scary height. This was the raging wind, coupled with the stabbing rain. This was the crescendo of the deafening music where you covered your ears with your hands, eyes squeezed shut. This was the sharp crack of lighting exploding across the night cry. This was the moment where all the fight left your body, leaving you empty and hollow, a husk of your emotions. This was the silent scream of mind tearing pain. This was the rising panic in your chest. This was the feeling of seeing Y/N and her abuse. This was the feeling of helplessness as you looked up, neck craning back as your eyes tracked the rising wave, fear heavy in your chest as your realized your fate and there was nothing you could do about it.

This was the storm.

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myghostmonument · 4 years

Text

13xReader: Inhibitions

Notes: I’ve been writing a lot more “canon” pieces recently (non-readers, posted on my ao3), but it feels nice to go back to my fandom roots, so to speak, and finish off some requests like this one! Each style has its own challenges to work through, and it’s fun to move between them and keep things interesting. I plan to keep writing for both, so no worries to anyone who prefers one over the other. This is, as always, gender-neutral for the reader, and is also border-line a disaster!reader fic, a loose characterization style created by the incredible @lilaccoats that I stole bc she loves me

Summary: The Doctor takes you and the fam to a trendy bar, promising a night of relaxation and fun. Shenanigans ensue when you maybe-not-so-accidentally get a little too inebriated.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, drunkenness, hangovers, mentions of vomit, and attempted assault. It’s more an uncomfortable conversation than anything, and nothing graphic happens, but please be warned!

WC: 7500 please don’t look at me like that I just picked at it to unwind as I worked on my zine piece and it got entirely out of hand honk honk goes the clown mobile

The decision to go to a bar had been Ryan’s. That alone, that the destination had been picked during his turn, ought to have been enough forewarning; it seemed that whenever a trip went sideways, it almost always fell on Ryan’s turn (or the Doctor’s, but you and the others excluded that data — her choices were always catastrophes and not worth including in the risk analysis amongst yourselves).

But faced with the usual question of “where and when to next?”, Ryan had requested a bar, and the Doctor had delivered. You had landed on an asteroid, which according to the Doctor was the location of a top-notch bar, situated along a very popular intergalactic trading route. It was certainly busy, as you all left the TARDIS in an alley and approached the sleek, shiny building; there was a short queue to get in, but people — aliens and humans both — congregated in clumps around it and as you moved through the line and entered the bar, you even looked up and noticed people on the roof.

“So,” Yaz said, propping a hip against the bar counter and taking in the sights. “This is where the great Ryan Sinclair works his magic.” She let her eyes rove around the noisy crowd, and grinned over at Ryan. “You feeling right at home then?”

Ryan shot her a scowl, his hands shoved firmly in his pockets. “Ha ha,” he said. “This is not what I had in mind when I suggested drinks.”

“What?” The Doctor asked, looking around at him. “Really? I thought I did all right.” She put her hands on her hips, surveying the crowded, noisy bar.

“Well I think it’s great Doc,” Graham said, already perusing a menu with interest. She beamed at him.

“Thank you, I try my best,” she said. She had her hands in her coat pockets, something that usually indicated she was being (or feeling) cautious. In this case, you thought she was merely trying to avoid knocking into anyone, or any drinks; the bar (if that’s what it was, it did seem more like a sort of club) was packed with people, and it would be all too easy to hook an elbow or bump a precarious drink.

Yaz and Ryan were still bickering, and although you generally enjoyed wading into those sorts of things, a menu caught your eye and you pulled it closer. You could read it, thanks to the TARDIS’ help, but translation could only go so far.

“Are these all alcoholic?” you wondered aloud, frowning at something listed as a Greyhound.

“Are they even all drinks?” Graham added, and you glanced up with a smile, knowing he was hoping for food.

“I think so,” the Doctor answered, moving over to you. She reached over to pull your menu towards her, and her sleeve brushed against your shoulder. “Hmm,” she said, still standing very close. “Sorry Graham, all liquid.” She didn’t actually sound all that sorry, you noted. Graham obviously noticed it as well, because he gave a theatrical sigh.

“Every drink has an inebriation agent of some sort,” the Doctor continued, scrunching her nose. “Different sorts for different races and species, this is a very diverse bar.”

“Are they all safe for us?” Yaz asked, also crowding your shoulder to look at the menu.

“Y-e-s,” the Doctor said slowly, followed by an “actually no,” and an eye-roll from Yaz. “Well, sort of. Depends on what you mean by safe. Humans are common enough here, but some drinks will still have a stronger or weaker effect than they would for their intended consumer. They’re coded, see?” She flattened her (your) drink menu on the counter and pointed. “This is the symbol for human, with standard colour rankings. Green means intended for you, yellow means it will have less effect, and red more.”

“Get in,” Ryan said, and you knew without having to look that he was perusing the red-coded drinks.

“You don’t want to try a Red,” the Doctor said sternly. “It could have any number of effects.”

“That’s what I’m counting on,” Ryan muttered, and then it was Graham’s turn to bicker with him while you and Yaz scanned the menu.

“How do you think we order?” you wondered, after deciding to try the Greyhound, which was coded green. Yaz had decided on yellow-coded drink, which cited a lack of alcohol. Its kick came from the flavor combination and carbonation, apparently. Yaz’s particular choice sounded disgusting, and you were very much looking forward to watching her try it.

“Yeah, I don’t see a barkeep,” Graham added, craning over the counter and apparently done with trying to persuade Ryan to make good choices. “Though I suppose you might not be able to pick one out from this mess.” It was true; though you were congregated around a counter, there was no discernible life-form keeping tabs or otherwise running it, and the crushing ebb and flow of the crowd was a confusing riot of clashing voices and species. Over it all thrummed the heavy beat of music, alien but still somehow recognizable as upbeat and catchy. You had the distinct sense that this was a trendy bar, and wondered how the Doctor even knew about it.

“It’s simple,” the Doctor said, and she bent over you to again point at the menu, her arm resting against yours. “You see this bit here? You press it with your finger, then press the box next to the item you want.”

“How’s that work then?” Ryan asked dubiously.

“It’s DNA activated,” the Doctor said calmly, as if that were in any way a normal thing for a drinks menu to be. “We were all scanned when we walked through the doors, didn’t you notice?”

“Did we notice the DNA scanners in an alien bar filled with aliens?” Graham asked. “No, must have slipped my mind Doc, no idea how I missed them. ”

“Well,” the Doctor said loftily, “you were scanned. So order your drink like I said, and it’ll be brought to you.” She bent over her menu, some of her hair brushing against your face. You sat very still, swallowed, then reached for a menu and dragged it towards you (seeing as how your own had been commandeered.)

After some consideration you ordered your Greyhound, and it arrived in an interesting, fluted sort of glass, delivered by a waiter. The drink was a pleasing sanguine colour, complete with a wedge of fruit on the glass rim. The whole effect was quite good, too, which was more than Yaz could say for her yellow-coded drink, which she almost choked on. You didn’t deign to try it after that, but Ryan and the Doctor both made a big show of tasting it and being subsequently horrified. Graham, equable as ever, took the abandoned yellow in hand and sipped it serenely, something the rest of you took in with an impressed sort of horror. The Doctor drifted away shortly after with no drink of her own, which wasn’t too surprising; you rarely saw her ingest anything more than a taste of food or drink before flitting away, like some sort of overgrown and absent-minded hummingbird. Ryan and Graham wandered off too. You lingered at the counter with Yaz for a while, as she ordered a new (and improved) yellow-coded drink. You found your own glass empty, and after some hesitation, shrugged and ordered another Greyhound. It hadn’t been too strong; you simply felt warm, and bright. It was nice. Second drinks in hand, you and Yaz decided to do a circuit, it was dark and loud and you were quickly separated in the swirling crowd. No matter, you thought cheerfully, as you took another sip. You’d catch Yaz up eventually, no doubt. The music was blasting, and you unconsciously matched your footfalls to the beat, feeling it warm and sizzling in your blood along with the drink. You tipped the glass in your mouth at the end of the song, and were surprised to find it empty. “Well that’s rude,” you told the empty glass, which flashed in your hand in a thoroughly unimpressed manner. You pivoted in the press of bodies around you, trying to find a free table and a menu. You needed replacement drink, seeing as how your current one was clearly faulty. “Must’ve shorted me,” you mumbled to yourself. “Typical. Think I can’t handle my glasses - I mean, hounds. Dogs. Drinks.” You stumbled as you pushed through a group of people, but regained your stride easily enough. You even spotted Ryan in a shadowy corner, chatting with a very lovely alien indeed. She seemed to be trying to entice Ryan to dance; you wished her the best of luck. Ryan was a hilarious dancer. Not bad, but definitely hilarious, and he took some convincing. You reached a table on the edge of the dance floor, and pulled a menu towards yourself. It took you a couple of jabs to correctly order your Greyhound — your finger kept slipping. Or maybe it was the menu, actually. “Faulty drinks, faulty menus,” you complained to the room at large, leaning back against a pillar as you waited. The people swirling around you were difficult to focus on, and you wondered suddenly if the room was tilting — surely the room itself wasn’t faulty! “Have to get the foundations checked,” you informed the alien server who appeared with your drinks. They gave you an odd look and vanished. You reached for your drink, but paused, hand outstretched as you considered the not one but three glasses set before you. Two Greyhounds, and one that was something else, a smaller, opaque glass. The liquid shimmered in a very interesting way indeed, and it was difficult to look away. Well, perhaps they had brought you the extra drinks on the house, in order to make up for all the faults you’d been uncovering left and right. You stumbled as you pondered this, which as far as you were concerned was proof enough of the foundational flaws; you were, after all, standing still, so what other reason would you have to stumble? Unbelievable. You reached for the Greyhound, but your hand paused, then changed course halfway through and grasped the smaller, shimmering cup instead. It was very light in your grip. You tasted it and stumbled again; it had hit your tongue with a wallop, your entire body was fizzing with a bolt of what must be pure electricity, there was no other possible explanation. Everything around you was abruptly brighter, louder, richer. You blinked, fascinated. “Not too many humans can handle their reds,” a voice said next to you, and you set the cup down with a thud, squinting as the alien next to you came slowly into focus. “You usually so squiggly?” you asked him, and he titled his head, dark eyes moving from you to the half-drunk cup, and back again. His smile flashed in the low light, and for a moment it was all you could see, becoming somehow the brightest, sharpest thing in the room. “It’s a curse,” he said, and you nodded sagely, taking another sip. His eyes followed the cup, and his smile sharpened. “Could cut myself on that,” you observed. “Teeth,” you added, when he looked confused. Perhaps he was drunk; it was ridiculous how many people couldn’t hold their liquor! “Want to try?” he asked, and his hand was on your arm. You weren’t sure when it got there. “Excuse me?” you said, loftily, aiming for a bit of the Doctor in your speech. You thought you did quite well, but the alien didn’t look as annoyed as anyone on the receiving end of one of the Doctor’s questions usually did. Rude. “Do I want to try what?” you asked belatedly, and realized that you were being towed towards the dance floor. When had you made that decision? Time seemed to be leaping ahead and then stalling out in great lurches, and everything was fuzzy and dull. You felt the glass taken from your hand, and were vaguely surprised to find that it was empty again. Another faulty glass? Really? You might have to register a complaint. “Not a lot of humans here,” the alien said, and his hands were on your sides, moving you to the music. People pressed all around you, bumping your shoulders and making it difficult to get your bearings. Your shoes squelched on the slightly sticky floor as they moved. You wanted to stop and see if you could get the room to stop spinning so much, but the hands on you kept you in motion. The alien was speaking again, close to your ear so you could hear him over the din. “You come here alone?” he asked, his fingers warm against your side, and tight. You tried to pull back to get a better look at him but he kept you where you were.“No,” you said, blinking as you tried to orient yourself. Your eyes kept sliding in and out of focus. “Came with m’friends.” “And they left you all alone, to drink a red?” he murmured, and his grip tightened. He was pulling you across the dance floor; the light was fading, and you realized all at once, as you moved into a more shadowed section of the room with only the gleaming crescent of his smile visible, that you were actually quite drunk, and didn’t know where any of the others were. “Should - should get back to them,” you tried to articulate, and he laughed, one of his hands sliding lower. “You’re right where you want to be.” You stiffened, and tried to pull away. “No, I want to find my friends,” you slurred, jerking back. He held your arm, and pulled you into him in a great twirl, and suddenly your back was against a dark, slightly sticky wall. He loomed over you, one hand still vise-like on your arm, the other pressed against the wall by your head. He smiled down at you, except it didn’t really look so much like a smile anymore, but just a lot of very sharp, gleaming teeth. Your face was very cold, and you wished the room would stop spinning enough that you could push him off and find the others. “I could be your friend,” the alien said, his breath fanning across your face, his hand sliding lower again. The hand on the wall touched your hair, curled a lock of it musingly through his fingers. “I just love red-drunk humans, all alone and lost and looking for a friend to help them.” You struggled again in his grip, and this time he let you go. You lurched sideways along the wall, falling against the corner in a heap. You thought you should feel sick, but you only felt annoyed, and cold, and something else, something like confusion that was tipping towards fear. The alien lifted you back up, hands on your arms, then pressed you back against the corner, his weight against you. Annoyance flared and you tried to push him away. “Let go,” you ordered, but he only laughed, touched your face. “You don’t want to be alone right now do you little Red?” he asked. “I’m sure that’s true,” a new voice interrupted. It had a familiar, lilting cadence, but you didn’t recognize the sharpness to it, or the way danger simmered beneath the surface. The alien didn’t glance away from you. “We’re busy,” he said, touching your face again. “Find your own —” but then he was ripped away from you in swirl of grey fabric and flashing eyes. You swayed, then jerked back as hands touched you again, but — “It’s okay,” that voice said, “it’s alright, it’s me,” and you recognized it this time. The Doctor tucked you against her side and you inhaled that familiar scent of tea and vanilla, and it cleared your head a little, enough to let out a shaky breath. “He’s being - rude,” you told the Doctor, your voice muffled as you glared at the alien. “Yes, he is,” she answered. Her voice was still light, and soothing, and you weren’t able to see the way she was looking at him. He scowled, gaze darting from you to the Doctor and back before making a dismissive sort of hand gesture and melting into the crowd. The Doctor stood very still for a moment, and you all you could hear was the thunder of her hearts. She let out a breath, then turned you. Again you found your back against that wall, only the hands on you were gentle, and cool. The Doctor touched your face as she looked at you, and that was better too. “Are you okay?” she asked, and you wondered at the appearance of that crease in her brow. She looked dangerous, in the half-light, but her hands were still so light. You nodded, and suddenly her grip on you was tight as she kept you from toppling over. “Wouldn’t - leave me alone,” you told her. “Rude.” “You already said that,” she observed, removing one of her hands to fish in a pocket for her sonic. You blinked at her, swaying on your feet as she ran it over you. She read the output and exhaled. “Tell me you didn’t drink a red.” “I didn’t drink a red,” you repeated dutifully, and watched as her entire face scrunched up in exasperation. It was nice.“You’re so pretty,” you informed her. It was important that she knew in that moment how pretty she was, with her face all scrunchy and the flashing lights making a halo of her head. “So pretty. Too pretty.” You stumbled, and again she caught you. “Okay, I think it’s back to the TARDIS with you.” “Says who,” you slurred, even as she steered you away from the wall and towards the exit. “You’re not — you’re not the boss of me.” “I certainly am,” she muttered. “Especially when you’ve gone and had a red, and I explicitly told you it was a bad idea.” Her grip on your arm was firm and cool, and infinitely preferable to the alien’s. The other alien, that was, because obviously she was alien too. So many aliens! “You’re the best alien though,” you mused aloud, and she darted a quick look at you, tongue poking briefly out of her lips. You liked that quite a lot. You wanted her to do it again, in fact, but she had drawn her lips back into a thin line as she watched you. She steered you towards the exit, but the crowd seemed to have doubled in size, and she was forced to shove her way bodily through the dancing, yelling patrons. A much larger person staggered into her and she grunted as she took the blow. “I think I hate bars,” she said, her voice all but inaudible over the din. “That’’s new. Maybe.” Someone else knocked into her, and the force was heavy enough to jar your arms from her grip. She receded from you in a blurry tunnel of light and sound, and then it was just you, pressed between strange bodies on the dance floor while the music thundered through your bones. Huh. Almost everyone was taller than you, and you had no idea which way the exit was, or the Doctor. You didn’t care much about the exit, but it’d be good to find the Doctor; you had felt less…. fuzzy, when her hands had been on your arms, and more like yourself again. And also she was just so pretty. Wandering in a blurry haze of music and voices, you began to wonder if maybe you might locate another drinks menu. You weren’t so sure about another red, but it also didn’t seem like quite as bad of an idea as it had an hour ago. That was interesting. Weaving and stumbling, you tried to push through the press of bodies, and had made a little bit of progress when — — hands, there were hands on you again — You lurched sideways as you tried to bat those hands away, but there was nowhere to go, the wall of people bounced you back, and the lights were flashing and people were shouting and there were hands on you again — “ - alright? Hey?” The hands succeeded at spinning you around, and a person loomed out of the crowd. Two things followed in short order: you recognized Yaz, and you threw out a defensive fist. They didn't happen in the optimal order, however. “Oi!” Yaz cried, dodging your fist and catching it in her own. “It’s me, what the hell?” She was still sliding in and out of focus, but you were aware of the fact that she was quite pretty too. "’M sorry,” you told her, wondering why she was pulling away from you. You hadn’t actually hit her, after all. Had you? “Sorry,” you repeated, swaying.She was peering at you, her hands firm on your arm. Her eyes were very dark, but they reflected the dancing lights all around you and you blinked, fascinated. “Are you okay?” she asked cautiously. “Absolutely corking,” you slurred, proud to remember the phrase you had heard Graham use (and Ryan mock) earlier. You weren’t sure why it made Yaz look so alarmed. “Yaz — oh, good —” The Doctor popped into your view as she squeezed between two dancing aliens who took no notice of her, which was probably good because her expression was quite stormy indeed. She still looked quite pretty. How’d she manage that? It wasn’t fair. “Doctor,” Yaz said, turning, “I think something’s wrong —” “Someone decided that they should have a red,” the Doctor said, grim. “I also had two - three - I had - greens!” you told them both, proud. Yaz’s look of alarm deepened, and it was so comical that you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up. When that did nothing except make her and the Doctor’s brows both snap into synchronized, angry little v shapes, you only giggled harder. “Right, TARDIS,” the Doctor said ominously. “Yaz, can you find Ryan and Graham and let them know?” Yaz nodded and between one blink and another, she had vanished again. “Just like magic,” you told the Doctor, wondering why your lips were numb. She gave you a swift, searching look, her eyebrows still angry little vs and her tongue still poking between her lips. “Come on,” she said, wrapping a cool hand around your wrist. The contact was steadying, and very nice. She kept you close, clearly not wishing to be separated again as she towed you towards the exit. “Don’t want to go,” you told her abruptly, and you couldn’t hear your voice over the crowd and the music. You didn’t even know why you said it; it wasn’t true, strictly. You still felt like you could fit in another drink or two worth of fun, but you didn’t really care where you went, not if the Doctor was with you. Even if she looked so angry as she glanced back over her shoulder. She had heard you, evidently. She had very good hearing; you and Ryan and Yaz had been working on an experiment to test the limits of it, but hadn’t put it in action yet. Someone bumped into the Doctor hard and she grunted, but her grip on you remained iron-clad and she pulled you closer, actually folding you into her arms to protect you from the jostling crowd.“This is not what I had in mind,” she muttered, her lips very close to your ears as she spoke. It was nice, and extraordinarily distracting. “Do people actually enjoy these places?” “Ryan does apparently,” you said, remembering him chatting up that pretty alien. “This was his idea wasn’t it?” the Doctor mused, moving again and pulling you with her. You were still very close. “I don’t suppose we’ll be letting him choose the next adventure. Ah. That’s better,” she added as she stepped out of the bar and into the night, towing you with her. A blast of cool, humid air hit you, wrapping around your body and cooling your cheeks. Even though the bar itself had been fairly dark, your eyes still relaxed as the flashing lights fell away.The Doctor let go, and the sobering effect of the night seemed to pull back, a little, as if you’d lost your anchor. The world tilted around you, the stars overhead wheeling and dancing. It made you feel a little bit sick, but it was also beautiful. The Doctor was talking, and you struggled to focus.“Think we parked just over there, yeah, must’ve. Let’s go — where are you going?” The last was delivered with an air of extreme exasperation as she turned in time to witness you bolting away. “I want to be colder,” you told her as you stumbled through the night. You were on pavement (alien pavement, anyways) but in the distance you could see the shadow of what had to be trees (alien trees) and maybe some grass (alien grass). You wanted nothing so much as to lay down on that grass. The Doctor’s protests followed you as you reached the tree and hurled yourself down at the cool earth. Well, not earth. Whatever passed for earth here. What was dirt on an asteroid called? A shadow fell over you, blocking the stars, and you turned your cheek in the grass to look up at the silhouette of the Doctor, hands on her hips, stray hairs blowing in the wind.“You’re sick, you need to get back to the TARDIS,” she said. “You’re sick, you need to get back to the TARDIS,” you replied cheerfully, and even though you couldn’t see her expression very well in the darkness and swirling stars, you could feel the scrunched-up scowl she leveled at you. “Come on,” she said, and her voice was exasperated but her hands were gentle as they lifted you off the ground. Gentle again, as they caught you when you stumbled sideways. “Careful, now. Come on.” “Don’t feel - so good -” you told her, and it was true; the fuzzy, warm glow was fading and the whirling of the stars wasn’t so much aesthetically pleasing as it was now sickening. “I expect not,” the Doctor muttered. “What could have possibly possessed you to drink so much? To drink a red?” “I didn’t mean t’ order it,” you defended yourself. “It was just - just there.” “And you drank it? Something you hadn’t ordered?” the Doctor demanded. “Surely you know not to do that!” “Just trying to have fun,” you mumbled, guilt rising up in you alongside the nausea. “Just wanted — didn’t mean to — I wasn’t —” “Okay, it’s okay, I know,” the Doctor said, her voice softening. She shifted you against her as she spoke, and you realized she was fumbling for the TARDIS key. The blue box was humming at an almost inaudible frequency, but you could feel it moving through you bones, cooling your blood, steadying you. “Thanks,” you said weakly, patting a hand on the wood as the Doctor steered you through. The interior slights dimmed as you came in, and it was a soothing balm on your eyes and raw nerves. “She’s spoiling you lot,” the Doctor muttered, but you could hear the fondness threading through her voice. “She likes us,” you thought, or maybe said. The Doctor made a soft sound, not quite a word, and you weren’t sure if she’d heard you. Weren’t sure if you’d spoken. “Okay, try and eat this,” the Doctor said a few moments later. Or maybe hours, you still weren’t entirely sure how time was progressing. Her fingers brushed your lips as she placed a fizzing sort of tablet on your tongue, and you realized all at once that your lips weren’t numb anymore, but blazing with sensation. “Swallow it, it’ll help,” she added. You blinked, looking into her face, so close to yours. There was still that furrow by her eyebrow but she didn’t seem angry, anymore. Not like she had with she’d stared down that rude alien. Her eyes were bright, glittering like the star field outside of the bar. “Too pretty,” you complained, then promptly choked on the tablet you had forgotten on your tongue. “Swallow,” she repeated, placing two fingers on your mouth. Your breath hitched, which did not help the choking one bit. You did, at least, in the midst of the resulting coughing fit, manage to swallow the tablet, but it burned and your eyes streamed as you blinked at the Doctor. “Good,” she said, placing fingers under your chin. Her touch was somehow both cooling and blazing, comforting and so very distracting. You made an indeterminate sound, and her eyes flicked to yours, a brief touch, before flicking over your face. “That should kick in soon,” she said, dropping her hand. “Is it — gonna cure me,” you asked, and the breathless quality to your voice was due to the lingering affects of drunkenness, surely, and not the Doctor’s touch. She snorted, pushing hair out of her eyes.“It’ll speed up the process, burn the chemicals out of your system faster,” she said. “And it’ll make for a quicker hangover.” She fixed you with an amused look. “Quicker, but not easier. You’re in for a fun night, I think.” You groaned, throwing yourself down on the couch. You regretted it at once, as your head spun and your stomach roiled, but the drama of the moment had dictated.“I didn’t mean to,” you complained, shutting your eyes as the lights spun around you. The spinning didn’t stop, in the darkness behind your eyelids, but it was a little bit better. Maybe. A cool hand brushed your forehead, and that definitely was better. “I know,” she said, and you could hear the gentleness in her voice. “Am I going to die?” you asked, not because you thought that you were — you’d been sick before, though admittedly not from alien alcohol — but it had the right flair of drama to it. It also made the Doctor snort again, and regrettably, her hand slid from your brow. “You’re drunk, not dying,” she said, and her voice was receding as she moved around the room. “Humans and their substances, honestly.” Something was placed on your brow, cool and damp and soothing. The Doctor tucked the cloth against your head with deft, gentle fingers even as she continued to explain her thoughts on humans and all of their myriad of flaws. “You’ve never been drink — you don’t drunk —” You stumbled over the words, and felt her fingers still, then fall away from the cloth. You opened your eyes and with the room spinning and the dim light and the serious, difficult to read expression on her face, she looked as remote and otherworldly as she actually was for all that she was your friend. “Time Lords are an advanced race, we certainly don’t have the same genetic predispositions towards inebriation or the desire to attempt so,” she said finally, still looking down at you. You grunted, considering her words as they slid in and out of your head.“Didn’t answer the question,” you observed, and were rewarded with a scowl. “Hm,” was all she said, but she was smiling slightly. “Try to rest now, and if you need to be sick —” she kicked something on the floor that gave a hollow thud. “Try to aim in here, yeah?” “I am not going to be sick,” you said firmly, and the Doctor’s smile flashed in the dim light. “I hope not, the pill’s supposed to help with that but,” she shrugged expansively, and even through the spinning room you were able to focus in shocking clarity on the pull of her shirt across her frame she did so, “I don’t really know what combination of ingredients you drank, and how they’ll react to the other things you drank or your own biology. So. Bin.” She nudged it with a boot again. “I’m going to check on the others, and you’re going to stay here. I’ll be right back.” You didn’t want her to go, but you were feeling worse by the moment as the alcohol was burned out of your system and, as far as you could tell, migrated to your head. You could feel each heartbeat rattling in your skull like knives, and your roiling stomach kept speed with it. You moaned something that the Doctor took for agreement. Time passed, although you weren’t in any way able to keep track of it. You suspected it had been a century based on the pounding in your head, but it could have only been a few heartbeats. Either way, you were still alone when you realized that what you really needed was some water. Nobody was around to hear you, but you still complained and groaned and generally made a spectacle as you swung your legs off the couch, sitting upright. Your stomach made a solid pass at leaping out of your throat, but you steadied yourself with a snarl; you were not going to need the bin, you were not going to be sick. And you were right; all thoughts of nausea fled as you pushed yourself to your feet, because your skull might as well have shattered. Your headache pounded so violently that you thought it might be slamming you through the floor; it felt too heavy, too thick, too white-hot with blinding pain. Death was infinitely preferable to this miserable thing called life. “Never — drinking — again —” you vowed, swaying, hoping the floor might just swallow you whole and end your suffering. “A noble sentiment,” the Doctor said from behind you. “But one rarely adhered to, I suspect. What are you doing off the sofa?” She appeared at your side, a steadying hand on your elbow. “You didn’t sick up somewhere did you,” she added with sudden trepidation, looking around your feet apprehensively. “I just wanted something to drink,” you told her, wretched. Your head was still pounding, and even the dimmed lights were still too bright. They stabbed your eyes with sharp, splintering shards of pain. You groaned, and leaned your head instinctively against the Doctor’s shoulder. “I think you’ve had quite enough to drink,” she said, with a touch of asperity, but her hand was gentle as ever as she smoothed hair back from your forehead. “Water,” you clarified, your voice muffled from the folds of her coat. It was soft, and cool, and smelled like home. “Ah,” the Doctor said, steering you back to the couch. She eased you down again. “Stay, I’ll get you some water and a new cloth.” “Where are the others? Are they coming?” you asked miserably as she reappeared, setting a glass of water in your hands. It had a truly spectacular bendy, swirly straw that was almost as long as the glass itself, a vibrant purple and orange that hurt your eyes to look at, but you appreciated the gesture as you lifted it to your mouth with weak hands. “They’ll be here soon, they’re trying to find Ryan,” the Doctor said. The cushions dipped as she settled on the other end of the sofa. “They might have to expand the search,” you said, thinking of that alien he had been speaking with. You groaned as your head gave another spike of pain, and slid down the couch as sitting became too much effort. “Just rest,” the Doctor said. “It’ll pass.” “Promise?” “I promise,” she said, and your eyes were closed, but you could hear the slight smile in her voice. “I am the best alien, after all.” You could definitely hear the smile, now, and something niggled at your memory; you suspected that the Doctor was poking fun at something you had said while in the bar, but the memory was sliding in and out with tremendous spikes of pain and you let it go. You suspected that you had said many unfortunate things, and you could only hope that the Doctor hadn’t heard or remembered most of them. You drifted for a time, after that, surfacing to occasional bursts of pain or nausea or, more welcome, cool hands on your brow as they took your temperature or readjusted the the damp cloth. Clarity — and more importantly, an absence of that all-encompassing pain — arrived abruptly. You sat up gingerly, feeling weak and shaky and not even remotely good, but it was a normal not-good, not I’m going to die and if not I wish it would hurry up about it not-good. “Ah, here we are,” the Doctor said, and you looked over to see her curled up at her end of the couch, a book in her hand. She closed it and tucked it in the cushion. “Feeling better?” “Yeah,” you said, peeling off the now warm and dry cloth from your head. You looked down at it, then the mercifully empty bin at your feet. Something else rolled in your stomach, almost worse than the earlier nausea: shame, with a side of guilt. “Ah. Sorry, about all that,” you mumbled, darting another look at the Doctor. She was watching you, a slight smile curving her lips, but her eyes were sharp as they flicked over you, still assessing. “Accepted,” she said, scooting over to you and fishing her stethoscope out of her pocket. “Deep breath,” she said, resting it against your chest. “You don’t have anything to apologize for anyways,” she added. “It’s not your fault you got served a red, or that someone tried to take advantage of you for it.” You had forgotten about that, had forgotten about that other alien and his heavy, unwelcome hands, and his sharp, hungry smile. You shuddered, and the Doctor’s eyes touched your own, a welcome distraction. “I’m okay, you don’t need to waste time on me,” you muttered, but she was pushing a fresh glass of water into your hand. “Drink. And yes I do, or do you not remember bolting up and trying to climb the TARDIS console?” You goggled at her. “Apparently not,” she said with a wicked grin. “No, don’t apologize again, it’s okay. You got me out of that bar anyways, I really wasn’t vibing with it. ”You had been awash in horror at your actions, but the Doctor’s last words snapped you out of it. “Vibing with it?” you repeated, incredulous. She shot you a look, tongue poking slightly between her lips.“Yeah, am I using that right? Ryan taught me.” You were still goggling at her, but the sound of a door opening and a rush of voices distracted you both. “Ah, finally,” the Doctor said, brushing off her legs and standing up. “I wonder what kept them. We’re in here,” she added, pitching her voice to carry to the others and making no effort to define where “here” was; it was obvious to her, and that apparently was to be enough for everyone else. It was very her. Everything she did was very her, you mused. Not just because it was her doing them, but because she did everything with such one-hundred percent commitment, energy, and enthusiasm. You smiled slightly, watching her as she stood with her hands on her hips. She’d taken off her coat at some point, and she looked smaller without it, more wild and fleeting, something ephemeral. She glanced over her shoulder at you and smiled when she met your eyes. That smile was also wild, fleeting and ephemeral, but it grounded her, a little bit, in the here and now. And you, too. “Hello,” Yaz said, stepping into the room. She looked tired, her hair coming out of its braids, her jacket mussed, but it was a happy sort of tired. “Have fun?” The Doctor asked as Yaz threw herself down on the couch next to you. “Yes,” Yaz said, leaning her head back on the cushions. “Not as much fun as some other people, though,” she added, and turned her head to fix you with her dark, glittering eyes. “How are you doing?” “I feel like death,” you told her, and stuck out your tongue when she grinned. “That’s what you two get for going off-book,” she said smugly, wiggling her shoulders deeper into the couch and kicking off her shoes before lifting her legs and curling them up on the couch. “Oi, I didn’t drink a red,” the Doctor said, indignantly. “Not that I would have been affected, if I had. You humans are so — ” “She been going on like this the whole time?” Yaz asked you, and the Doctor gave her a dark look. You giggled, and it only made your head split down the middle a little bit. It was worth it, for the expression on the Doctor’s face. “Definitely,” you confirmed, wincing as you lifted a hand to rub your temples. “This is the thanks I get, for spending my night chasing after red-drunk humans? Mockery and false accusations?” “Not you,” Yaz said, rolling her eyes. “I was talking about — “ “Hellooooooo TARDIS!” “That,” Yaz finished, turning to watch as Ryan crashed into the room, with an aggrieved Graham in his wake. The Doctor groaned, throwing her hands up. “Ryan! Not you too!” “Guilty your honor,” Ryan crooned, spinning a wild circle and narrowly avoiding the couch with his flailing feet. You hastily copied Yaz, drawing your feet up onto the cushions and settling in to watch the show. “I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love! Congratulate me.” “You’re not in love, son, you’re drunk,” Graham said wearily, trying to grab Ryan, but he spun out of reach. And fell over. The room shuddered. You gasped, Yaz clapped a hand over her mouth, Graham cursed. The Doctor closed her eyes. “Ow,” Ryan said, but he was smiling beatifically up at the ceiling. “What happened?” The Doctor asked resignedly, crouching by Ryan and taking his pulse, then pulling out her sonic. He ignored her, still smiling happily up at the ceiling, his toes clicking together as he hummed. He was still firmly in the “fun” stage of the Red inebriation, it seemed. “What do you think, Doc?” Graham answered tiredly, moving to stand by them. “He wanted to impress a pretty girl.” “Did he?” you asked, interestedly. The situation was a lot funnier when it wasn’t happening to you, it turned out. “Well, he chugged a red and challenged some bloke to a dance contest,” Yaz said. She was grinning, and it was the grin of a sober woman witnessing the carnage wreaked by foolish friends. “We almost didn’t get him out of there.” The Doctor stood up, pinching her nose. She came to a decision.“Right. I’ll get him a pill, but I’ve done my babysitting duty for the night. He’s your problem after that.” She stode from the room, and you heard her mutter something about never going to a bar again. Yaz heard her too, and you shared a grin. Ryan, it turned out, had very little interest in taking the hangover-speed-up pill from the Doctor. It also turned out that red-inebriation or no, he could still move very quickly, and it took the combined efforts of Yaz, Graham and the Doctor to get the pill in his mouth. You filmed most of on your phone you'd fumbled quickly out of a pocket, which as far as you were concerned did just as much to help the situation as any of them. The Doctor threw herself down on the sofa next to you with an explosive sigh. “I am never,” she said, tipping back her head, “taking humans to a bar. Ever again.” Ryan moaned from the floor, punctuating the statement with eloquence. Yaz sat down on the Doctor’s other side, then scooted over to make room for Graham who was looking silent and shell-shocked. You found your shoulders rubbing the Doctor’s, and you curled your feet up under you to make more room while leaning your head against her shoulder. You could hear her twin heartbeats, and after a moment she rolled her head so that her chin was resting in your hair.“You’re all on probation,” she said, firmly. You hummed skeptically, and Yaz snorted. Graham was still grimly silent, but you knew he’d come around. Silence, for a moment, interrupted only by Ryan’s increasingly pathetic moans.“Shall I pop in a movie?” Yaz asked finally. “Go on then,” the Doctor said, resigned, but you could hear the smile in her voice. “We’re going to be here for a while.” “‘’m never drinking again,” Ryan groaned from the floor. He clapped his hands over his ears as you all began to laugh, which did exactly nothing to help. “Humans,” the Doctor said to the TARDIS ceiling, but she was still smiling. “You love us,” Yaz said, standing up and moving to put on a movie. “Yeah,” the Doctor said after a moment, so softly that you thought you might be the only one who heard it. “I do.”

#this isn't exactly an example of uh #good writing #but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless #it WAS fun to write #request #mine #writing #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor x reader #nb reader #back to my regularly scheduled circus performances now

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years

Text

Sub Rosa [6]

vi. his sister’s keeper

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Language, mentions of vomit, allusions to sexual assault/scummy Shumway deals, Grounder violence.

Summary: A small group of people head staright into Grounder territory in search of Octavia, and you have a surprising moment with someone unexpected.

a/n: are we all sad about the lack of bob morley in the promo? are we all scared? is that just me? if not, pls enjoy the next chapter of my series that’s all about Bellamy (and reader) bc it’s what he desrves! also the taglist is stil OPEN.

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

(Flashbacks are italicized)

Jake looks over at his wife, screaming out in pain, gripping his hand with a strength he didn’t know she possessed, forehead damp with sweat, and he could only think one thing.

She has never looked so beautiful.

He looks around at the room, stuffed with medical equipment, but empty of anyone other than himself, Abby, and Jackson.

And soon, his beautiful daughter.

Clarke comes into the world the same way she’ll regard the world in the future. Pensive, quiet, evaluating. At first, everyone is worried, because she didn’t make a sound. But after a quick look of her surroundings, she lets out a hearty scream and all Jake can do is smile, tears filling his eyes. Jackson handed him his daughter, wrapped in a blanket, and he looked down into her face. Chubby cheeks, bright blue eyes, little shock of blonde hair; everything about her bright and shining, like a star. And then he turned to his wife, his sun, the center of his universe, and he knew his family was complete.

Until Jackson gave his wife a knowing look, asked, “Are you ready?”

Jake can’t hide the fear and concern in his voice, “Ready for what?”

Abby reaches out and grabs his hand. “I couldn’t tell you before, didn’t know how to say it...There’s one more.”

And before Jake could comprehend what she was saying, implying, you had entered the world. He didn’t want to accept it, accept you. Multiple children were against the law, they’d get floated for it.

But he took one look at your face, his little la lune, and he knew he’d protect this secret until the day he died.

Cabin searches were a reality on the Ark, but with a chief medical doctor slash current councilwoman for a mother, and a chief engineer highly revered father, they were few and far between.

Usually, they were done by Jaha himself, and never in a very serious way, because they were friends and it was easy for the Chancellor to pass along the message that the Griffin residence was safe, passed the test.

Sometimes they were done by actual guard members. High up in the ranks, aware that no real searching needed to be done.

But no matter who it was, you had to hide in the space in the closet, engineered by your father to keep you quiet and hidden.

Because it had been decided early on that Clarke would be the twin to venture out into the world. She was quiet, better behaved, calmer. And besides, she was the first born. You were the bonus. The secret.

Your eyes trace the patterns of stars in the sky, naming the constellations as you go.

The long tail of Draco, over to the zig and zag of Casseopeia, down over the round shape of Auriga, before finally landing on the shape of Orion the Hunter. As you trace over his form in the sky, his belt, over to his raised arm and shield, you hear a familiar voice tearing through the camp. “Octavia!”

You sit up in confusion, looking around, before finally locking eyes with Bellamy, who looks frantic. He jogs over to you, “You’re still up?”

“I have a hard time sleeping these days.” Your eyes scan over him, noting the tension in his body, coiled so tight you’re afraid he’ll pop. “What’s wrong?”

“Octavia. I can’t find her anywhere. You haven’t seen her, have you?”

You stand, thinking, “Not since she ran off yesterday. But she’s bound to be around here somewhere.”

He shakes his head, curls bouncing, “I checked everywhere, and no one’s seen her.”

“I’ll help you look again, just in case. You check the dropship, she tends to spend a lot of time there with Jasper and Monty. I’ll check the tents again, then we’ll meet back in the middle.”

He nods, “Thank you.”

You give him a soft smile before you both walk off, him towards the dropship, and you for the cluster of tents. You poke your head into each one, making sure to scan every face and softly whisper Octavia’s name. When you step around the side of the last tent, you come face to face with your twin, who looks at you in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Octavia’s missing. I’m helping Bellamy look for her.”

She immediately turns and grabs her jacket, “I’ll help.”

“You don’t have to, we’ve got it. Besides, I’m sure you’re tired.”

You watch her expression change and she mutters, “Hard to sleep when I’m thinking about all those people on the Ark.” You offer a single nod, feeling uncomfortable, unsure what to say. She shakes her head, “I just don’t understand why you’d do something like that. Why would you help him throw away our only way to contact the Ark.”

“Clarke, I-” A sigh pushes past your lips, “I know it’s hard for you to understand, but things were very different for us on the Ark. I spent my entire life locked up in our place, then I got caught and locked up in the Skybox. And then, they killed our dad…” You trail off, running your hand through your hair, “I don’t have any attachment to the Ark. Nothing good ever happened to me up there. And I don’t care what happens to mom, or Jaha, or anyone else that got left behind.”

She seems to be weighing your words, forming a response, when Bellamy runs up. “Anything?” You shake your head. “Then we need to gather a search party.”

You and Clarke agree, and the three of you branch off, waking everyone up and gathering them in the center of the camp. Bellamy drops a pile of handmade weapons and tools in the center of the group, as he yells, “Hey, everybody, gather around and grab a weapon. My sister's been out there alone for 12 hours. Arm up. We're not coming back without her.”

You grab a knife with a short curved blade, and slide it through a loop in your pants, before going to find a torch to light the way. As you grab one from the edge of the camp, someone yells out nearby, “Guys, guys. Come here!”

You look up, curious, and jog over to the small group, instinctively stopping by Bellamy. You follow their eyes to the night sky, as hundreds of shooting stars fall to the Earth. But the closer you look at them, the sicker you feel, as you realize what those shooting stars are.

Raven comes out of the tent, eyes focused on the sky. “They didn't work. They didn't see the flares.”

“A meteor shower tells you that?” You nudge Bellamy and he looks over at you as you shake your head in warning.

Clarke’s voice is quiet when she corrects him, “It's not a meteor shower, it's a funeral. Hundreds of bodies being returned to the Earth from the Ark. This is what it looks like from the other side.”

You glance at Bellamy and watch his face fall, and you know he’s got the same sick feeling in his stomach. Raven comes marching towards Bellamy, yelling, “This is all because of you!”

Bellamy’s walls raise in defense as he retorts, “I helped you find the radio.”

“Yeah, after you jacked it from my pod and trashed it!” Clarke and Finn each grab a hold of Raven, and one of Bellamy’s girls, Roma, pushes you aside to stand closer to him. His eyes lock with yours over her head, and you think you see sorrow in them, but you also aren’t sure if it’s just wishful thinking.

“All I know is that my sister is out there and I'm gonna find her.”

Bellamy turns and storms off, Roma hot on his heels, and you’re left standing there, looking between his retreating figure, and your twin. She meets your eyes and turns away from you slightly, effectively closing the conversation from you. You take that as a sign and turn to follow the others from camp.

As you trudge through the darkness, a small torch your only light, you hear your name being called from near the front. Your brows furrow in confusion and you jog to the front, where Bellamy stands waiting. “You were with me yesterday, so I want you up here, in case you remember anything.”

You hesitate and glance over at Roma, who hovers near Bellamy, glaring at you. He seems to sense this and he turns to the long haired beauty. “Go find Mbege and help him search near the back. You’re better with the details.”

She pauses, weighing her options, but her desire to please Bellamy ultimately wins out. She pulls him in for a passionate kiss that lasts an uncomfortably long time, before dropping near the back of the group and leaving you and Bellamy alone.

He starts walking again, leading the group, and you both search side by side in uncomfortable silence. The change in your relationship presses in on you, weighing heavily in your mind as you remind yourself over and over that Bellamy Blake is an asshole, and you want nothing to do with him. Right on cue, he seeks to change your mind. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about since we were in that cave with Charlotte.”

Your heart drops at the mention of her name, and you think back to that day in the cave. Only a few days ago, but it feels like lifetimes now. You glance over at Bellamy, “What is it?”

“After I comforted Charlotte, you got mad at me and said I made a joke about assault. What was that about? Because I don’t remember saying anything like that.”

You pull a face and turn your head towards him quickly, instantly annoyed. “But you did.” You turn away and look back out into the woods, “The night we found Jasper, after you took the panther meat away from me. You said ‘guess Shumway was right about you not taking a good deal when you see it’.”

You hear a sharp intake of air, as he processes your words. “I still don’t understand. Shumway just said you wouldn’t take the trade deal he offered you in order to keep your secret. Something about wanting stuff from the Privileged because he could turn a good profit.”

You turn towards Bellamy, shocked, and resist the urge to vomit all over his shoes. “That’s what he told people?” You let out a bitter laugh, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, considering he was always a self serving, opportunistic asshole.” You shake your head, and give Bellamy a serious look. “That’s not what happened. Not even close.”

“Then what did happen?”

You take a deep breath, contemplating whether you want to tell him or not. You glance over at him, still unsure, and you don’t miss the soft concern in his eyes. You let out a sigh, and turn away from him, focusing on the woods, as you begin, “I’ve never told anyone this before, but the day started out usual enough…”

You turn the page of the textbook, scanning it for the answer to the last question of your homework. Your eyes light up when you find it, and write it down quickly, before closing everything with a smile. As you stand and stretch your limbs, you hear the door to the apartment open and close, and you glance over at the clock.

4:30.

A grin splits your face as you realize it can only be one person.

Dad.

You run from the room, already talking to him as you cross the threshold, “Dad, perfect timing, I just finished my homework and I’m feeling really good-”

As you round the corner, you come face to face with a man who is not your father.

You freeze in place, panic rising in your chest, unsure what to do. He’s taller than you, with dark hair and eyes, dressed in what looks like a guard uniform. He’s eyeing you suspiciously, as he takes you in. “You’re not Clarke.”

You say nothing, do nothing, and just stand frozen.

He puts down the files in his hands and moves closer to you, and with every step he takes forward, you take one backwards, trying to keep the distance. He backs you into a wall, and you press yourself into it, wishing you could disappear, or run to your hidden compartment.

He reaches up and pushes your hair out of your face, and your body shakes in fear. “You look like Clarke, but you have a lot of Jake’s features too.” He lets out a slow breath, as he makes the realization. “Twins.”

Your shaking stops as he says it, leaving you once again frozen, and he takes your reaction as confirmation. His eyes light up with something you don’t recognize, “The secret twin.”

You turn away from him and he grabs your face and turns it towards him, “A secret like this would destroy your whole family. Get your parents killed. Leave your sister alone. What is that secret worth to you?”

Your blood freezes and your eyes lock with his, realizing that his look was one of opportunity. He takes a step back and admires your body slowly, top to bottom, and you feel like you’re going to crawl out of your skin. “I’ve got a deal for you, sweetheart. I’ll come visit you, everyday, and you keep me satisfied. In return, I’ll keep your secret.”

You say nothing, and your brain screams at you to react. Say no, run, spit in his face, anything! But you do none of it, your limbs thick and heavy, like rocks. The man smirks and leans towards you, before pressing his lips to yours. Your brain shifts into overdrive, into panic mode, as he slips his tongue between his lips and into your mouth. That sends you into action, finally, as you bite down, catching part of his tongue and his lips between your teeth. You taste blood in your mouth as he pulls away with a cry of pain, and he immediately retaliates by hitting you across the face. You yelp and clutch your face, as your eye and cheekbone throb in pain.

He wipes the blood from his mouth and looks at his hands, now stained red, and he points at you. “You’re going to regret that, you little bitch!”

And then he turns and stalks from the apartment, slamming the door behind him and leaving you to collapse to the floor with a wave of emotion.

You don’t know how long you lie sobbing on the floor before the door opens again, and you don’t even look up, already convinced that it’s the guard, back again. Instead, you hear your name fall from your dad’s lips, softly, confused.

When you look up at him, he catches sight of the blood near your mouth, and the dark bloom of a bruise already forming near your eye. He runs towards you, instantly worried, tipping your head up to look at the injuries. “What happened?”

You recoil from his touch, and a look of hurt washes over his features as he tries to decipher the meaning. Your voice trembles as you meet his eyes, “Someone saw me.”

You see panic cross his face, as he looks around. “Someone was here? Who?”

“A man. Black hair. He was wearing a guard’s uniform.”

You let out a choked sob and your father moves closer to you. This time, you let him. “Where is he now?”

“He ran out a few minutes ago.” You start to cry harder, and Jake once again remembers the bruises on your face. “Did he touch you? Did he put his hands on you?”

Before you can answer, the door bursts open, and you and your father turn towards it, both of you frozen in fear.

As they start to come near you, the guard from before enters the room, blood still smeared across his cheek. You lock eyes with him and turn back to your dad, as one of the guards announces, “You are under arrest for the crime of-”

You reach out for your dad as they close in on you, grabbing him tightly. “Dad don’t let them take me! Please!”

He holds you tightly, wrapping his arms around you and pleading with the guards as they try to pull you away, “She’s just a kid! She didn't do anything wrong!”

More guards file into the room, separating you from your father as you both continue to scream, and your attacker watches with a smug look on his face. They pull you further and further away, and you hear your dad as you are pulled from the room, as he sets his sights on the attacker. “What did you do to her? You son of a bitch! She’s just a kid!”

They continue pulling you down the hall, and you raise hell the entire way, kicking, screaming, hitting any guards you can reach. Other Arkers press themselves into the wall as they drag you by, and you hear your name as they pull you around another corner. A head full of blonde hair pops into view, as your twin screams your name. You scream back, trying to reach her, “Clarke! Help me, Clarke!”

And as you struggle against the group of men, causing nothing but trouble, you feel a small prick of pain in your shoulder. When you look over, you see a needle sticking from your arm, as the room around you starts to grow hazy. You turn back towards your twin, her face the last thing you see as everything fades to black.

You shake the memory from your head and look at Bellamy, who seems to realize why you were so upset that night. He stops, and puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. I should have known Shumway was lying.”

You shrug off his apology, and he meets your eyes with fierce sincerity. “I’m serious. I’m an asshole.”

You match his look, “Still are.” and he seems shocked for a second before you follow your statement with a smile, and he gives you one in return. The moment is quickly broken by Mbege yelling nearby, “Look! Over here!”

You see alarm pass over Bellamy’s face before he takes off towards the sound of his voice, and you follow closely behind. You burst through the treeline, near the edge of a ravine, and Bellamy asks, “What is it?”

“Right there. You see it? Is that Octavia's?”

Bellamy doesn’t take his eyes off the tree, as he demands, “Rope.”

Someone gives Bellamy a rope that he begins to rig up, and Finn steps up, “What are you doing?”

“We need the rope to get back up.” He tosses the rest of the rope down the ravine, before he turns to Mbege. “Flashlight.”

When he reaches the tree, he turns and yells, “It's hers. I'm going all the way down.”

You turn and hand the closest person your torch, and follow Bellamy down to the bottom, Jasper right behind you. When you run up on Bellamy, he’s kneeling near a rock, his fingers slick with blood. His eyes meet yours, full of fear, and you whisper, “Shit.”

Jasper and Finn join you, and Bellamy’s eyes find a set of footprints in the mud. “Someone else was here.”

“The prints are deeper going that way. He was carrying her.”

Bellamy pales a little, and Jasper notices and tries to offer some comfort. “If they took her, she's alive. Like when they took me.”

Bellamy immediately stands and starts to follow the tracks, and you all follow him. The journey is quiet, the only sound around you consisting of boots squishing in wet mud, and the sounds of the forest at night. As you all break through the trees and into another clearing, you come to the entrance of a path, and freeze in place. All around the path are skeletons impaled on posts, guarding the way. You can feel the fear of the group begin to build, as Finn whispers, “I don't speak grounder...but I'm pretty sure this means keep out.”

Behind you, various delinquents mutter their dissent, and desire to turn around. Bellamy never takes his eyes off the warnings. “Go back if you want. My sister, my responsibility.”

He steps into the path and heads in, but even you take a second and hesitate. Bellamy turns and looks at you, still standing there, and you can sense his disappointment. You take a deep breath and jog behind him to catch up, ignoring every warning in your head telling you that this is a bad idea.

The group that follows Bellamy into Grounder territory is small, only a handful of those originally on the search team. With some annoyance you note the continued presence of Roma, who now lingers even closer to Bellamy than before. You scold yourself for the line of thinking, reminding yourself that this is about Octavia, and there is safety in numbers.

The group is even quieter than before, as they follow Bellamy and Finn, who follow the forgotten trail. You all walk for a long time, and night turns into dawn, marked by the sun beginning to filter through the trees. Around you, the others cut off their flashlights and snuff out their torches, tucking them away for later.

As mid morning approaches, you hear Finn whispering to Bellamy, “I got nothing. We lost the trail.”

“Keep looking.”

Finn shakes his head, “Wandering around aimlessly isn't the way to find your sister. We should backtrack…”

“I'm not going back.” They come to a stop and the group follows suit, pausing and looking around.

Behind you, Roma sounds worried, “Hey, where's John?”

“I just saw him a second ago.”

You feel a pit of anxiety growing in your stomach and you pull out your knife, as Bellamy says, “Spread out. He couldn't have gotten that far.”

As the words leave his mouth, a loud thud comes from behind you, and you all turn to see what it is. As you do, your eyes fall on Mbege, now on the ground, throat slashed. You all run closer, and kneel down, pressing your fingers to his neck to be sure. You meet Bellamy’s eyes and shake your head once, and his face falls.

Finn looks around, worried, before lifting his head to the sky. “They use the trees.”

You all look around, scanning every tree in sight for signs of movement. Signs of Grounders.

“We shouldn't have crossed the boundary.”

Jasper’s voice reaches you next, as he points to your right. “There. Right there.”

Your eyes follow his and you see a Grounder, standing perfectly still and watching you. Diggs points behind you, his voice shaking. “Another one.”

Finn whispers, “We should run.”

And that’s all it takes to put you all into gear. Bellamy reaches down and hauls you to your feet and takes off running, half pulling you as he goes, reminding you of the day in the cave with the poisonous fog. You tear through the trees, leaping over logs and dodging low hanging branches, keeping your eyes straight ahead, afraid to see how many Grounders are nearby. Bellamy changes direction every few minutes, as another Grounder jumps into your path and cuts you off.

You hear Jasper gasping for air behind you, “I can't run much longer!”

Bellamy stops, pulling you to a stop with him, and the others pause with you. Diggs keeps on running, right past the group. “I'm not stopping for him!”

Bellamy looks around at the approaching grounders, “I'm sick of running anyway.They know where she is.”

Roma spins in a circle, frantically searching. “Diggs, where are you?”

From somewhere nearby, his voice calls her name, and Roma takes off towards it. You all follow, before skidding to a stop, right in front of Diggs’ impaled body. Roma keeps running, and you all search the trees, full of adrenaline and fear. “They were leading us here. It's the only direction we could run in.”

You whisper, “Where'd they go?”

Realization dawns on Bellamy, “After Roma.”

He takes off running again, and you follow until you reach him, and he slows to a jog. You move through the woods quietly, on guard, ears perked and waiting for the smallest of sounds. Monroe spots her first, near a tree, and whispers her name. When she doesn’t move, Bellamy runs to her, and you jog behind him, coming around the tree and face to face with Roma, a spear through her chest.

Bellamy reaches up and closes her eyes, and whispers to you quietly, “She only came because of me.”

You feel regret over your earlier annoyance of her, because this is not something you wanted. She didn’t deserve to die, impaled to a tree.

Jasper starts to panic, and starts yelling at the grounders, taunting them, “Come on! We know you're out there! You want to kill us!”

Bellamy and Finn descend on him in seconds, trying to shut him up as grounders run at you from all angles. Monroe yells, “They’re coming!”

You all turn back to back, trying to protect each other and cover all sides, weapons raised as they near closer and closer. You start to regret everything you ever said and did, all the pain you caused, the fight with Clarke, the anger towards your mother. And just as they reach you, the sound of a horn moves through the trees, stopping the Grounders dead in their tracks, before they turn to run the other way.

Bellamy’s voice is full of disbelief, “They're leaving.”

“That horn. What does it mean?”

You look around, “Acid Fog.”

Finn starts to pull a parachute from his pack, spreading out wide enough so everyone can get inside. You all scramble into the tent, tucking the sides in and holding it down, hoping that it’s strong enough to protect you from the fog. As you lay there in the parachute, panicked breathing the only sound inside, you start to become acutely aware of the fact that you are next to Bellamy. And not just next to him, practically on top of him, as you are all pressed so close. Your sides are pressed together, his hands holding the chute closed beside yours, skin touching. You turn to look at him, and he follows the gesture, your breath mingling as you say nothing.

Jasper is the first to break the silence. “How long are we supposed to wait?”

After a beat, Bellamy breaks your gaze and pulls back the parachute. “There's no fog.” As he stands, he spots a Grounder running through the trees, “They're coming back.”

“I think he's alone.”

Bellamy watches him closely, “He doesn't see us. I'm going after him.”

Finn holds out a hand, “And what? Kill him?”

“No. Catch him. Make him tell me where Octavia is, Then kill him.”

Bellamy starts running again, this time after the Grounder, quietly moving through the trees. You all trail behind, hesitant to follow a Grounder after the three dead delinquents you just saw, but determined to find Octavia, despite the odds. You watch as the Grounder ducks into a tunnel, and you creep in behind him, unsure what lays around every corner. Finally, the tunnel opens up into a cave, and there you find Octavia, chained to a wall, with the Grounder at her feet.

Bellamy runs towards her and frees her from the wall, and they pull each other into a hug. You watch with a smile as they hold each other tight, finding comfort in each other. When they release each other, she pulls you into a hug next, and you smile again, realizing it’s been a while since your last hug. When you let each other go, Octavia moves to the door. “We should go. Now. Before he wakes up.”

Bellamy picks up a large piece of wood and moves closer to the Grounder, “He's not gonna wake up.”

Octavia grabs him and pulls him back, “Bellamy, stop. He didn't hurt me. Let's just go!”

“They started this.” Bellamy looks down at Finn, who is kneeling beside the man. “Finn. Move.”

Finn grabs something attached to the Grounder’s waist, and you see it as he shifts to the side. “A foghorn.”

And before anything else can be said, the Grounder jumps up and spins around, plunging a knife into Finn’s chest. Finn falls backwards as the Grounder knocks Bellamy to his back, and you pull your knife out and run towards him, plunging it into his shoulder. He turns from his advance on Bellamy and pulls the knife out, before spinning and slashing you across the stomach with it. Bellamy runs at him from behind, jumping on his back, and the Grounder tries to swing him off. You use the opportunity to advance on him, but the Grounder kicks out and lands a solid blow to your chest, sending you backwards.

He falls on his back, slamming Bellamy into the ground, knocking the wind out of him. The Grounder scrambles up and over to the weapon Bellamy was going to use on him, turning the wood around to the pointed end and aiming for Bellamy’s throat. Bellamy grips the point, using every ounce of strength to keep the spear from entering his neck, and Octavia cries out from beside Finn. “Stop! That's my brother!”

You try to pull yourself up to help Bellamy, groaning in pain as you do. Just as you get near them, Jasper runs from the corner holding a different piece of wood, and swings at the Grounder, knocking him out cold. You collapse next to Bellamy, both of you panting for breath.

Octavia’s voice echoes around the small cave, “Guys, he’s losing consciousness! Finn, wake up!”

Bellamy is the first to stand and move over to Finn, and seconds later he calls your name, voice laced with concern. His tone is what makes you move quickly, reminding you of the day you found Atom. When you reach Finn’s side, you instantly realize the danger he’s in. “Shit.”

Jasper whispers, “Should we take the knife out?”

“No!” You look up and meet his eyes. “That knife is dangerously close to his heart. If you pull it out, he’ll bleed out before we can even help.”

You turn your gaze to Bellamy. “We have to get him to Clarke, I don’t know enough to save him.”

You put your hand on Finn’s cheek and whisper, “You hang in there, Finn. Clarke will kill me if you don’t make it.”

And then Bellamy scoops him up, careful of his wound, and exits the cave. You all move as quickly as you can given the amount of injured people in the group, and Bellamy makes Monroe help you along, as Jasper helps Octavia. As you near camp, you send Monroe back to Octavia. “Tell Jasper to run ahead and get Clarke, and you help Octavia into camp.”

She nods and runs ahead, and you watch as she relays the message, and Jasper takes off running towards camp, screaming your twin’s name. “Clarke! Where's Clarke? Get Clarke now.”

He disappears inside the walls, Octavia and Monroe close behind, and you and Bellamy move faster. You squeeze Finn’s shoulder, “You’re almost there, Clarke is waiting for you.”

You step back and let Bellamy enter the camp first, and a group of guys runs over to help lift Finn from Bellamy’s arms. You hear the panic in your twin’s voice as she checks his pulse, “Finn. Finn? Oh, my god.”

She lets out a little sigh of relief before immediately taking charge, “He's alive. Get him in the dropship now. Go!”

The boys run off with Finn, and Raven moves towards Clarke, crying. “Clarke, can you save him?”

“No. Not me. I need my mother. I need to talk to her.”

Raven’s voice cracks, “There's still no radio.”

“Raven, fix it! Go!”

She runs a hand through her hair, turning to look at you and Bellamy, pausing when her eyes land on you and your blood stained shirt. She runs towards you, full of sisterly concern, forgetting your harsh words from the day before. She reaches out for you, already searching for the wound. “Are you okay?”

You wave her off, “I’m fine. Go take care of Finn. I can patch myself up.” She hesitates, and you squeeze her hand in reassurance. “I’m fine. Go!”

She runs off, checking on Octavia on the way, who is coming back your way, to the entrance of the camp. You step back a little already sensing the beginning of an argument. Bellamy runs her down, “Why were you defending him?”

“Because he saved my life. That spear that hit Roma was actually meant…”

He cuts her off, “No, you're wrong. I saved your life. For all you know, he was keeping you alive to use you as bait for one of their traps.”

“No. I don't think so.”

His voice rises, growing more exasperated. “You don't think, O! That's the problem. They killed 3 of our people today. And if you would've let me kill him when I had the chance, Finn wouldn't be in there dying right now.”

Octavia’s exasperation grows to meet his, and she blows up, “Stop blaming me for your mistakes! What happened to Finn is not my fault. I wanted to leave, so if Finn dies in there, that's on you!” She punctuates her words by pointing to his chest. “Everything that's gone wrong is because of you. You got me locked up on the Ark. You wanted me to go to that stupid dance! You got mom killed!”

You watch as Bellamy’s face sinks, and then he starts to build the wall, brick by brick, jaw now clenching with anger instead. You try to stop them, before the fight grows worse, and creates a rift. A rift like the one you and Clarke have. You touch his arm and whisper, “Bellamy.”

He shrugs you off and barrels on, “Mom was floated for having you. She's dead because you're alive. That was her choice. I didn't have a choice. My life ended the day you were born.”

Octavia’s face crumples as the last sentence, and she tries to storm off out of the camp, but Bellamy grabs her arm and pulls her back, “Where do you think you're going?”

“You can't keep me locked up in here forever.”

You feel yourself start to grow faint and you put a hand to your wound, panicking when you realize your shirt is sticky with new blood. You mutter his name again, “Bellamy.”

He turns towards the gate of the camp, and yells at a kid outside the walls, “Get inside. Go!”

He scrambles past you as Bellamy pulls the door closed with a slam, and as he turns to you, you look up at him, holding up your hand covered in fresh blood. Worry etches across his face and he runs towards you, just as your legs start to give out. He catches you easily, “Woah, easy there.” He starts to lead you to the dropship, “Let’s get you to Clarke.”

“No!” He looks down at you in confusion. “She’s got enough to worry about with Finn.”

He hesitates, and then offers, “I have some supplies in my tent, if that’s okay.”

“Yes.”

He leads you back to his tent, and helps you sit down, before he starts to gather supplies to bandage you up. As your adrenaline wears off and the pain receptors on your stomach start firing, you’re able to ignore any potential awkwardness as you try to focus on not passing out. Bellamy comes back over to you, supplies in hand, and kneels beside you, looking up at you in permission. You pull your tank top up and secure it around your chest, keeping yourself covered while also giving him a good view of the cut.

He dips a rag into some water and starts to clean the blood away, dabbing carefully over the wound. You wince anyway, and Bellamy looks up at you, apologetic, before attempting to distract you. “I never got the chance to tell you earlier, but Shumway was the one who came to me with the deal.” You look down at him, and he clarifies, “To get on the dropship.”

“After Octavia’s arrest, and our mom’s death, I got kicked off the guard and stuck on janitorial duty. The day they planned to launch the dropships, Shumway came to me with a deal. He said if I killed Jaha, he’d get me on a dropship and send me to the ground with Octavia, so I could protect her.” He gets another clean rag and continues to wash away the blood, “I knew I was going to do it as soon as he offered. I didn’t even hesitate when faced with the decision of taking someone’s life to save my sister…”

He trails off, lost in thought, and you wonder what about. Before you can ask, he shakes his head and continues, “Anyways, that’s where I was coming from when I came across you and Shumway in the hall.”

“Explains why you were so jumpy.”

“Yeah, well…”

You smile a little, “I’m glad you showed up. I’m not sure what would have happened if you didn’t.” You shudder at the thought, as Bellamy starts to bandage your cut, wrapping the cloth around your middle. “I told you he was opportunistic though. Deals were always his thing.”

Bellamy secures the bandage and leans back, inspecting his work. He smiles, satisfied, and starts to clean up, motioning towards the bed. “You should get some rest.”

You start, surprised, and he starts to backtrack, “I mean, you don’t have to or anything. And it’s not like I’d be in here, so you don’t have to worry about that. Just thought you might want something a little comfier to sleep on besides a tree branch.”

You look up in surprise, meeting his eyes, and he laughs at the look of shock on your face. “How long have you known?”

“Since the beginning. You’re not as invisible as you think you are.”

You feel a change in the air, something akin to affection, and you rub your palms on your pants, uncomfortable. “Well, I guess I’ll get some rest then.”

Bellamy stands, and steps back, “Yeah, of course. I’ll put someone on guard outside the tent, in case you need anything.”

Your eyes soften, and you smile at him. “Thanks, Bellamy.”

He smiles and ducks his head to hide it, before raking a hand through his hair. “Yeah, of course.” He starts to back away, towards the entrance of the tent, “Like I said, just yell if you need anything.”

He gives you one last look before ducking out, leaving you alone inside a large tent and a bed meant for...three. Your stomach sinks as you think of Roma, and you settle back into the bed, whispering to yourself, “In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground.” Your eyes close and you sink deeper into the makeshift bed, drifting into sleep as you finish, “May we meet again.”

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