#and still... i still want to witness that scene again

[stevie-petey]

episode four: the sauna test

Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!” “What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time.  “Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent. Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys. 

Summary: dustin has some brotherly concern for you (dont tell anyone though), steve is offended you dont think he can fight, nancy gets upset during therapy hour, robin encourages child endangerment, erica becomes your hero, and you lose your lunch on hawkins makeshift tower of terror (aka sketchy russian elevators)

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: swearing, use of y/n, fem!reader

Words: 7.5k

Before you swing in: hello my loves ! had a busy may wrapping up finals, move out, and adjusting back to life at home. i finally had the time to write this, and while im still iffy with some parts, im just excited to finally be at the elevator scene tbh. ive been DYING to write her. enjoy !!

-

Dustin stands outside your room the next morning, fist hovering over the door, unsure if he should knock. It’s early and he can’t get the panic he saw in your eyes last night out of his head. He hasn’t seen you that consumed with anxiety since you guys were kids and your parents began to fight. 

He feels horrible for putting you in that position last night, at odds with him, Robin, and Steve. 

Especially Steve. 

Dustin hadn’t meant to start a fight between you and the teen. Contrary to popular belief, he actually does want the two of you together, but now he’s worried he’s somehow caused a rift in your relationship.

Sighing, your brother allows his knuckles to rap against your door. When he doesn’t hear anything, he slowly opens it and pokes his head in. You’re asleep in your bed, blankets strewn everywhere, and Dustin knows he’s fucked up because you almost never sleep in this late. 

Now he’s worried he’s going to have to force you into a code blue.

Dustin lets himself into your room and stands before your bed. Then, because he’s your brother and finds it hard to express his worries for you in a normal way, he pokes your cheek with his finger. “Wake up.”

You stir at the touch but remain asleep. Dustin groans and starts repeatedly poking you. “Dude, get up.” He now starts poking your nose, your forehead and eyebrows, anywhere his finger can reach.

Finally the onslaught of pokes to your face is enough to wake you up. You raise your hand and slap Dustin away as you scrunch your face in displeasure. “Why do you always insist on waking me up this way?”

“It’s fun for me.”

You slap at your brother again and take a moment to stretch. Your body is exhausted, you got home late last night after your drive with Jonathan. Once the two of you had been done discussing your relationship problems, you both decided to just drive around Hawkins and simmer in your limited time together. For those few hours, only the two of you existed.

Yawning, you blink your eyes open at Dustin. “Is there a reason you’re waking me up before my alarm is supposed to go off?”

Dustin’s smug smile falls. He coughs and starts to fidget with his fingers. “Oh, I was just–well. Last night… Do you wanna talk about it?”

The implications of your brother’s words cause you to fully wake up. “Is this your poor attempt at commencing a code blue?”

“Well, do we need a code blue?”

You roll over and throw your blankets over your head, blocking out the world. “I already talked about my feelings last night with Jonathan, please give me at least twenty-four hours to recover.”

Dustin flicks your ear that pokes out from under the blankets at the mention of Jonathan. “Why were you with that guy last night?”

“Stop touching my face!” You yell at the kid, annoyed. “And because he’s my best friend. We both had shitty nights so we drove around and cried together.”

Your brother pauses. “Did you actually cry together?”

“No,” you now uncover your face and sigh. “Only I cried, but it was therapeutic nonetheless.”

Dustin drops his head, remembering how upset you’d been standing in the hallway last night with the others. “I’m sorry about last night, Y/N.”

“Hey, no.” You sit up now and force him to look at you. “No apologizing. I understand.”

Your friends have all gone their separate ways this summer and I know you’re so fixated on the Russians because you’re lonely. I understand, and I’m here for you.

It goes unsaid, but Dustin knows that you have him all figured out, though it doesn’t ease the guilt he feels for dragging you into all of this in the first place. “You don’t have to join me at Scoops today, Y/N.”

“I know, but I will anyway after my shift.” I have to keep you safe.

“We both know you’re only going to make sure I don’t burn the place down.” You worry too much.

“Oh, don’t think I won’t call Steve once this conversation is done to make sure he keeps an eye on you.” I know, but it’s my job and I love you.

“You’re the worst.” I love you, too.

You ruffle Dustin’s hair with a fond smile. It’s an intricate thing, the hidden language that can only be found between siblings. All that goes unsaid becomes masked behind teasing and taunts, but you both hear what’s underneath. 

When Dustin leaves your room to go to the mall, you roll over in bed and reach for the phone that rests on top of your desk. Your fingers press the numbers that have become ingrained within your brain from countless nights of dialing. The line rings only one time before Steve’s tired voice answers. 

“Hello?”

You smile hearing his voice, despite the distance that seems to have now formed between you. “Hi, honey.”

There’s rustling on the other end of the line and you know Steve still lays in his own bed only ten minutes from your own. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine,” you quickly reassure him, wincing when you realize you don’t normally call him so early. “Sorry, I was just calling to ask if you’d keep an eye on Dustin today? With the Russians and everything, I have work today and can’t be there–”

“Of course I’ll keep an eye on your brother, Y/N.” Steve gently interrupts your anxious rambling. 

“Thank you,” you say softly with a laugh, embarrassed. 

“Are we…” Steve hesitates, unsure how to find the right words. “Are we okay? I know things were–uh, weird. Last night. And that I was a dick and I just, I’m really sorry, Y/N. For everything.”

You close your eyes and exhale slowly, knowing that there’s more that Steve wants to say but is too afraid to tell you. Too ashamed to say that he’s embarrassed as well for allowing his pride to cloud his judgment, and you’re too exhausted to try and remind him again that you love him despite it all. “We’re okay, Steve. I promise.”

He takes a moment to respond, he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s never been good at this. Finally, he settles on what he’s able to give you. It seems that’s all he’s been able to do lately. “I’ll miss you today, angel.”

“I’ll miss you too, honey.” The name slips from your tongue in a languid manner, the warmth that accompanies the word still wraps itself around your body and reminds you of the love you feel for the boy. You hope he can feel the warmth too, you hope it descends down the landline and wraps around him as well. “I’ll see you after work.”

– 

Your day only gets worse from there.

After only an hour or so of sadly sorting through books at work without a customer in sight, you hear a frail scream come from Mrs. Waters’ office. You run towards the woman in a heartbeat, panic stricken and afraid of what you’ll find. 

Mrs. Waters is sitting tiredly in her office with her head in her hands when you run in. The usually upbeat woman is hunched over with despair and you’re quick to rush over to her with worry. “Mrs. Waters, is everything okay?”

She rubs at her temples and it’s then that you realize her telephone is in her hand. Without bothering to look, she clumsily places it back on the wall and looks up at you with sad, tired eyes. “I’m fine, dear. I–I just had a fright, that’s all.”

“What happened?” You pull a chair to sit next to the woman and grab her wrinkled, yet soft, hands. 

“Oh, I’m old.” Mrs. Waters smiles at you sadly. There are tears in her eyes as she takes a deep breath to try and steady her nerves. “My, you would think I’d be used to phone calls from the hospital.”

“The hospital?” 

Hearing the panic in your voice, your boss grabs the hands you have placed on top of her’s and squeezes with reassurance. “It wasn’t for me, dear.”

You’re still anxious for the woman in front of you. “Who then?”

“They called me for an old friend,” Mrs. Waters clutches at her chest with a certain fear that you’ve never seen within the woman. “She’s in the hospital because some young journalist found her eating fertilizer in her home last night. She’s always been… troubled.”

You gasp and pull away from your boss and your mind reels with this new information. Jonathan’s voice echoes within the walls of your mind, of his story of the woman he and Nancy had found last night after investigating the rats. 

Mrs. Waters frowns at your unexpected reaction and notices the fear on your face. “Dear, I’m sure my friend will be alright–”

“What…” your voice shakes, and you clear your throat. “What’s your friend’s name, Mrs. Waters?”

The old woman sighs, sensing there’s something more to your worry, but her heart hurts for her friend and she’s seen more in her almost seventy years than she’s ever wanted to. “Her name is Doris Driscoll.”

–

You’re sent home early after your conversation with Mrs. Waters. She had been too worried for her friend and saw how shaken up by it you seemed to be as well, so she patted your arm and dismissed you. 

“There’s no point keeping the store open today, Y/N. Go home to that cute boy of yours while I go visit an old friend.”

You had tried arguing with her, but even you knew it was no use. 

Biking to Starcourt, now more than ever worried about your job, you feel your birthday looming over you and the worries of Nancy’s involvement with rats and old women eating fertilizer mixed with Jonathan’s fears. 

This was supposed to be a good summer. 

Your head spins as you walk into the backdoor of Scoops Ahoy, finding Robin, Steve, and Dustin all circled around the table as they discuss how to enter the Russian storage room. 

“What? I sneak up behind, knock him out, and I take his keycard.” Steve is explaining when you walk in. He has his leg propped against the seat next to him as he twirls his sailor’s hat in his hand. “It’s easy.”

“Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?” Dustin blinks at the teen, having little faith in his confidence.

You make your way towards the group and lift Steve’s propped leg up so that you can sit before placing the leg across your lap. Feeling your touch, he looks up with surprise to see you, having expected your shift to end later in the day. “Y/N?”

“You’re not going near any Russian men with guns, Steve.” You say to him in lieu of a greeting.

Steve deflates in his seat. “That’s why I’d be sneaking.”

Dustin shares a look with you, the two of you remembering all the times Steve has tried, and failed, to win a fight. Clearing his throat, your brother crosses his arms and winks at you before turning to the teen. “Alright, please tell us this, and be honest. Have you ever actually… won a fight?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, that was one time–”

“Twice, honey.” You interrupt him with a smile, enjoying this conversation maybe a little too much. “Jonathan, remember him?”

“Listen, that doesn’t count.”

“Oh, but it does.” You pinch Steve’s shin. “He kicked your ass, I was there.”

He winces and moves his legs off of you. “He didn’t kick my ass–”

“You got a fat lip, crooked nose, swollen eye.” Dustin adds on, leaning against your chair now as the two of you gang up on Steve. 

“He even pinned you at one point. I distinctly remember thinking he was going to kill you.” You say, smirking.

Steve scoffs. “Oh, you did not have any concern for me then–”

You hit his shoulder. “Yes I did! I’ve always been worried about you–”

“Can you guys not make everything about your weird relationship for like, three seconds, please?” Dustin whines as you and Steve start to bicker about something else entirely.

As the three of you argue, Robin seems to get an idea and runs out of the room. Noticing her sudden absence, you turn to Steve and frown. “What’s Robin up to?”

He stands up and sees her snatching money from the tip jar before running off. Steve calls after her, but she doesn’t slow down as she runs out of the shop. “What are you doing?”

“I need cash!” She says, as if that explains everything.

“Isn’t half of the tip money Steve’s?” You ask, now standing next to him by the register alongside Dustin.

“I’ll pay your boyfriend back later, Y/N.” Robin continues to walk towards the shop’s exit. “I’m going to find us a way into that room, a safe way, just like I promised you.”

You’re oddly touched that she remembered your insistence on keeping everyone safe. With a smile, you call across to her, “thank you!”

Robin blushes and forces herself to look away from you so that she can direct her attention to Steve. “In the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don’t get beat up. I’ll be back in a jiff!” 

As you and Steve watch Robin leave, the two of you turn and catch Dustin licking at one of the ice cream scoops. You whack him with the back of your hand and cringe at him. “Dude, what the hell?”

Dustin flinches away from you as Steve snatches the scoop from the boy with his own disgusted look. “Not my scooper, man.”

“Why are you like this?” You ask your brother with disappointment in your voice, to which he huffs at. 

“I’m a curious person.” You scoff at Dustin and he rolls his eyes at you before making his way out from behind the ice cream counter. “If I’m going to be judged, then I’m going to the arcade while we wait for whatever Robin has planned.”

He’s gone without another word, leaving you alone with Steve.

It’s still early in the day and there’s only a few customers in Scoops Ahoy, so it’s just you and Steve. It’s the first time you’ve been alone together since last night, when you’d been standing in front of him, begging him to listen to you, and all he could do was watch you silently with pain in his own eyes. 

As if coming to this realization himself, Steve coughs and rocks back and forth awkwardly. He knows you told him this morning that everything was okay between you two, but things still feel off. Despite your best efforts, he can tell that you’re still struggling to seem okay with the whole Russian debacle. You’re still frail looking, unsure and anxious, and Steve hates that he’s the reason why. 

Hesitantly, he reaches for your hand. “Care to, uh. Join me in the backroom?”

You raise your eyebrows at his question. “Are you propositioning me, Harrington?”

“No!” His eyes widen in fear and his voice squeaks, which only embarasses him more. He clears his throat and tries to swallow down his dread. “I mean, not like that. I figured we could, you know… talk.”

Now it’s your turn to fill with dread. He’s seen through you, despite your best efforts to try and appease everyone. Squeezing his hand, you nod at Steve and allow him to guide you into the backroom. 

Steve pulls a chair out from the table and sits down, and before you can process what’s happening, he pulls you down and into his lap. You throw your arms around his neck to steady yourself at the sudden movement, which only makes Steve’s proud smile widen. “You planned that, didn’t you?”

“Sure did, angel.”

You laugh and shake your head at him, tightening your arms around his neck and settling into his lap. He rests his hands on your thighs and stares at you with such warmth, such patience, content to simply have you here with him. Despite the uncertainty that seems to now loom over the two of you, there’s still a certainty within it. There’s still a trust that accompanies the hesitancy, and it’s this trust that caresses your cheek and coaxes you to speak. 

“I don’t like what we’re doing, Steve.” You confess to him, making your words as plain as possible so that nothing gets misconstrued; too often your words have gotten lost in translation.

Steve nods slightly, his eyes never leave yours, and he listens. “I get that, I do, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad about standing your ground. It’s just… I wanted to go along with Dustin, pretend for a few days that I’m not some moron who couldn’t get into college, you know?”

“You’re not an idiot,” you fix a piece of Steve’s hair that has fallen out of his sailor’s hat and sigh. “But there’s more to this than just my stupid need to protect everyone.”

“Did something else happen?” 

You hesitate, unsure if what’s been on your mind holds any real weight, or if you’re just being paranoid now after everything you’ve been through these last few years. Biting your lip, you decide that it’s Steve you’re telling this to. Paranoid or not, he’ll listen and try to help you piece it all together as well. He always does. “A few days ago I saw Billy stumbling on the side of the road. He was… bleeding.”

Steve’s eyes harden at the teen’s name and instinctively his grip on you tightens. “Did he do anything to you?”

“No,” you breathe out sharply, remembering how disoriented Billy had been. He was in no condition to cause you any harm, which in itself frightened you. “There was something off about him, Steve. I–I can’t explain it, but a day before I saw Billy, I had been with Will and he was almost similar to Billy, I guess? He just–he was frozen, staring off into space, until I got his attention again.”

“Why do I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling me?”

You sigh. “Because there is. There’s always something else in the fucking town.” Anger begins to rise within you and you force yourself to swallow it down. Now isn’t the time for the anger that always simmers just below the surface, waiting. “I talked to Jonathan last night. He’s been with Nancy investigating rabid rats and an old woman who was caught eating her fertilizer.”

“Christ,” Steve exhales with bewilderment.

“And now Russians in Hawkins? What are the odds of this all happening within the same week?”

“Do you…” Looking around, Steve lowers his voice. “Do you think it’s happening again?”

“I don’t think so, El told us she closed the gate, but… I can’t explain any of this, either.” You feel helpless, and you hate it. There’s something you’re missing, there’s something connecting it all, and yet you’re going in circles. 

It all can’t just be a coincidence, and it’s a horrible, maddening feeling. 

And Steve tries to absolve you from it. “We’ll figure it out, together. You and me, even if you want to kill me by the time we’re done, I promise you that I’ll help you–” The phone starts to ring, cutting Steve off, and he sighs. Patting your thighs, he silently asks you to get up so that he can answer it.

Lazily walking over to the ringing phone, Steve picks it up with slight annoyance. “Scoops Ahoy, this is Steve.” There’s a feminine voice on the other line, which he frowns at, before handing the phone to you. “It’s for you?”

Surprised, you stand up and take the phone, unsure who would be calling for you at the ice cream shop. “Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s me. Um, hi.” 

“Nancy?”

“I–uh, I called your job and this older lady told me you’d be at Scoops Ahoy? I needed someone to talk to, and I–I just,” She clears her throat, and it’s only now that you notice the exhaustion in her voice and how thick it sounds from dried up tears. “You know what? This is weird, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry–”

“Hey, no.” You fumble with the telephone cord and desperately wish you were with Nancy right now. After what Jonathan told you last night, you feel horrible for the girl, and from the sound of it, she needs someone there for her right now. “Talk to me, Nance. What happened?”

You hear her inhale a shaky breath, always the first to try and disguise any upset and hurt she may be feeling for the sake of others. She takes another deep breath, exhales slowly, and then begins to talk. “Jonathan and I had a fight.”

She tells you everything, from Mrs. Driscoll and the rats to Tom firing them for falsely identifying as reporters. It’s everything Jonathan told you last night, all his worst fears come true, except Nancy also tells you what he told her this morning. How condescending he had been, how he had reminded her of how poor he is, how he belittled her need to figure everything out herself. 

“He kept defending all those assholes, Y/N.” More tears lace within Nancy’s voice. “He wouldn’t listen to me. He just kept repeating over and over again about how he needed the job, as if it wasn’t the single more humiliating thing I’ve ever had to endure.”

There’s so much you want to say, but you’re afraid it will only come out wrong. “I can’t imagine what you had to go through, Nance. I know those men were horrible to you, but you understand where Jonathan is coming from, right?”

“I mean, I thought I did, but,” she sniffs, her voice is soft and defeated. “I’m not so sure anymore. It feels like we can’t understand each other, like we’re physically incapable of seeing eye to eye. I know he has to provide for his family, I–I love that he takes care of them, that he always does what’s right, and yet it infuriates me sometimes.”

You can’t help but chuckle at what Nancy has said. She sounds so much like Jonathan in this moment, reminiscent of him telling you that her ambition is what he loves about her, and here she is saying his integrity is what she loves about him. “God, you two and your pride; you sound just like Jonathan. He said practically the same thing about you last night–”

“Jonathan talked to you about this?” Nancy’s voice becomes cold, defensive, and you know you’ve just said the wrong thing.

“Well, I mean,” you frantically try to alleviate the situation. “He only wanted advice, that’s all.”

Nancy scoffs, and you feel your heart drop. “So he can tell you all about how he feels, but bottles it up when it comes to his girlfriend?”

Well, fuck. 

“He was scared and overwhelmed.” You try to keep your voice neutral, not wanting the girl to assume you’re on anyone’s side. “It’s a difficult situation, and he came to me for help just like you are right now.”

Jealousy claws at Nancy suddenly, it clashes against the hurt within her. Jonathan went to you, as he’s always done, he sought solace in you for the emotions within him that he still has yet to share with her. It reminds her, then, just how little she knows about him still. How many years stretch between you and Nancy when it comes to Jonathan. 

“I’m sure you know all about how he feels,” she says bitterly, unable to stop herself. “The two of you understand one another.”

You sense that there’s something important with what she’s just said. The words were said with a history behind them, an insecurity that you cannot compensate for, and you feel defenseless against Nancy. “He was hurt, and so are you–”

“God, I should’ve known you’d take his side! I mean, you two always do this. I’m such an idiot.”

Panic begins to surround you. “Nancy, I’m not taking anyone’s side, just please listen to me–”

The line goes dead as Nancy hangs up. 

Numb, you place the phone back on the wall and stare blankly at it. The pressure of tears presses against your eyes and you try to steady your breathing. You’ve hurt Nancy, you’ve caused a rift between you that threatens to collapse into a chasm, and you don’t know what to do.

Steve sees that you’re fighting back tears and he tugs you against his chest. His embrace soothes you, but when he asks what happened, all you can do is shake your head, too overwhelmed to speak. There’s too much to explain, a history between you and Jonathan that you know Steve accepts, and yet now you’re terrified you’ll somehow hurt him like you’ve hurt Nancy. 

“I’m sorry, angel.”

Neither of you are sure what Steve is apologizing for, but it’s enough for now. 

So much for an easy summer.

– 

“It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder’s Office.” Robin places a giant sheet of paper onto the table. On it are lines and shapes all drawn in blue with an intricate layout. You lean in close to inspect it as Robin continues explaining. “Starcourt Mall, the complete blueprints.” 

Dustin praises her idea and you hesitantly agree; you would’ve never thought of asking for the mall’s blueprints. “You’ve got my attention.”

She smiles and starts to explain her plan. “This is us, Scoops,” her fingers trace over the paper as she guides you and the boys through the blueprint. “And this is where we want to get.”

“I don’t really see a way in.” Steve points out, now sitting at the table with an arm wrapped around you. 

“There’s not,” Robin casts the top blueprint aside and reveals another one underneath. It’s similar in design, although this one lacks more shapes and is mostly lines. “If you’re talking exclusively about doors.”

You squint at the drawings, trying to figure out what they remind you of. “Are those…”

“Air ducts!” Dustin finishes for you, impressed with Robin’s idea.

“Safe, practical, and wouldn’t involve guns.” Turning to the girl, you nod at her and wink. “Buckley, you really keep your promises.”

Robin bows playfully. “Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room, and these air ducts,” she grabs a marker from the whiteboard and circles Scoops on the blueprints before drawing a winding line down to the hidden vault and circling it as well. “Lead all the way here.”

The four of you all look up at the vent above you, and while the idea seems like the safest option, you can’t help but wonder how horribly wrong it could go as well. You’ve never had the best luck, not when it comes to Hawkins, and the air ducts seem almost too easy of a solution to trust. 

Steve finds a screwdriver in one of the shop’s drawers and takes apart the air vent with Dustin’s help. You stand next to Robin and watch with slight weariness, unsure where to go from here. Once Steve has removed the vent, he shines a flashlight inside and winces. 

“I don’t know, guys. It’s a tight fit.”

“I can do it,” you step forward. “Can’t be that bad, right?”

Steve looks down at you from the ladder. “This feels like a trap.”

“Move, Harrington.” Once he’s off the ladder, you climb up yourself. When you look into the vent, your heart drops. It is a tight fit, there’s no way you’ll be able to crawl through it. Defeated, you climb down the ladder. “Well, shit.”

“I’ll fit.” Dustin now speaks up.

“No you will not.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “No collar bones, remember?” 

“Excuse me?” Robin has never been more confused in her life.

Steve begins to explain Dustin’s medical condition while you continue arguing with your brother. “I’m not letting you do this!”

“You got the healthy genes while I got the rare genetic condition, Y/N.” Dustin starts to climb up the ladder as you tug at his shirt to try and stop him. “Let me abuse it!”

“But–”

Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll handle this, Y/N.”

You step back, hoping that he’ll talk some sense into your brother, but to your horror he only makes things worse. Dustin starts to climb into the vent with Steve below him, but he gets stuck about halfway in. “Steve, push me!”

The teen looks at you, unsure what the right call here is. “Do I…?”

“Yeah, just push the kid.” You rub your eyes, tired. “He’s already almost in the damn air duct anyways.” 

Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!”

“What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time. 

“Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent.

Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys. 

The two boys argue, Dustin commanding Steve to push him harder as the teen tries his best to shove the kid, and Robin leans over to you. “Remind me, why are you into Harrington again?”

All you can do is sigh at her question, having no good answer as you watch Steve now manhandle Dustin and scream back insults at him. 

They look ridiculous. 

“Ahoy, sailors!” Someone rings the register’s bell impatiently. “All hands on deck!”

You and Robin turn to find Erica standing at the register as she repeatedly rings the bell and demands her daily free samples. You’re about to respond to her when you see Robin raise her eyebrows; it’s clear she’s thought of something. 

“Would… Erica fit in the vent?”

Your hand snatches at Robin’s arm as you pull her away from the shop’s window. “Absolutely not. We’re not getting Erica involved!”

“C’mon, Y/N. She’s small, she could easily fit–”

“She’s ten.” She’s too young. You’ve always regretted that Dustin and the party were twelve when everything began. 

You’ll be damned if you ruin another child’s life. 

But Robin doesn’t know any of this, and she ignores you as she runs to the register and recruits Erica before you can stop her. Within a minute you have a very curious Erica Sinclair climbing the ladder up to the vent as she shines a flashlight through it. 

You stand below her, helpless. 

“Yeah, I don’t know.” She climbs down after a few minutes of studying the vent’s dimensions. 

“You don’t know if you can fit?” Dustin asks. 

Erica leans against the table and studies the four of you with distaste. “Oh, I can fit. I just don’t know if I want to.”

“Are you claustrophobic?” Robin teases her, but you only feel sympathy for the girl. 

You step towards Erica, trying one last time to reason with her. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can back down now, no one will blame you. In fact, I will give you all my allowance if you say no.”

Dustin elbows you roughly to get you to shut up, he knows what you’re trying to do. You glare at him and rub your now tender shoulder. When you look towards Steve and Robin for backup, both teens send you pleading glances similar to the ones from last night.

Once again, you’re the odd man out. 

None of this is what you want.

“I don’t have phobias,” Erica informs Robin. Then, she turns to you, “and no one tells me what to do.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Okay, well. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is, I still haven’t heard what’s in this for Erica.”

Ten minutes later, you’re sitting in a booth with the others as Steve slides Erica a freshly made sundae. 

“More fudge, please.” She requests, pleased she’s won.

Steve looks at you, already fed up with the kid, and you feel no sympathy for him. “Go on, get the girl her bribery fudge. This is what you wanted.”

He cringes at the sarcasm in your voice and knows you’re once again pissed at him. Defeated, he hangs his head low and leaves to get Erica more fudge without another word. Once he’s gone, Robin opens up her blueprints and shows the girl the air ducts. “You see this? This is the route you’re going to take.”

You sit there quietly as Dustin and Robin talk to Erica. After they’ve explained the entire plan, she mentions that this all sounds like child endangerment. You let out an exhausted chuckle. “It does, doesn’t it? Isn’t that just hilarious to think about?”

Robin tries to reassure both you and Erica. “We’ll be in radio contact with you the whole time–” 

“Ah, ah, ah!” Erica waves a finger in Robin’s face, unamused. “Child. Endangerment.”

“It’s a shame only you can see that.” You drop your head onto the table, entirely over the situation. “I mean, how can only the ten year old see how insane this is, huh?”

Dustin throws a straw at you and shushes you, annoyed with your theatrics. Clearing his throat, he turns to Erica. “We think these Russians want to do harm to our country.”

“Unconfirmed, actually.” You retort. With every passing minute, it becomes more and more evident that this really is happening, and there’s no way you can back out now; someone sane has to be there to protect everyone. Dustin and the others all seem deluded by the idea of fame and adventure, but all you want to do is keep your loved ones safe. 

“Shut up,” Dustin shoves you further away from him as he tries to win over Erica’s agreement. “Great harm. Don’t you love your country?”

“You can’t spell ‘America’ without ‘Erica’.” She takes a sip from her drink, now listening.

You lift your head up from the table and share a baffled look with Dustin, both of you going through how to spell America in your heads. Amazingly, Erica is right. You really can’t spell the word without her name. 

“Incredible,” you whisper, in complete disbelief. 

Dustin shakes his head. “Uh, yeah. Oddly, that’s–uh, totally true… So, don’t do this for us. Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man, for America – Erica.”

After your brother’s speech, Erica puts down her drink and mocks him, still not entirely sold on the whole child endangerment idea. Instead, she goes on a whole spiel about how she loves capitalism and paying people for their services while you sit there, head pounding with a headache. 

“And it seems to me,” Erica concludes with a smile, “my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So, you want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many. I’m talking free ice cream for life.”

Robin and Dustin mirror exasperated expressions on their faces, but honestly? You get a kick out of Erica recognizing her worth; she’s brilliant. Without saying anything, you lift your hand up for Erica to high five, which she happily accepts. 

“To child endangerment!” You cheer, your voice oozing sarcasm, and Erica follows suit as Robin and Dustin both slump in their seats. 

– 

It’s your idea to prep Erica for whatever she may find after crawling through the ducts. You shoved a helmet on her head and forced knee pads onto the girl, which she adamantly protested against. 

“This is excessive, even for you.”

You held up money, which promptly shut her up. “Wear the protection and do exactly as I say, or lose $5.”

After she took the money, you then held out your switchblade for her to take as well. “And use this if anything happens, alright?”

Erica had stared at you, slightly surprised. “Why do you carry knives on you?”

“Ask questions later.”

Now you’re anxiously waiting on the mall’s rooftop once more with Dustin, Steve, and Robin as you radio Erica for updates.

“You nerds in position or what?” Her voice drones through the walkie’s speaker.

“Yeah, we’re in position.” Robin confirms. The three of you have been scouting the shipment deck for the last thirty minutes, making sure all the possible Russian guards were gone. “It’s all quiet up here, so you’ve got the green light.”

You take the walkie from Robin. “But be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Be careful and green light, roger that. Commence Operation Child Endangerment.”

Robin snatches the walkie back and cringes at what Erica has said. “Can we maybe not call it that?” 

“That's exactly what’s happening here.” You say with a snort. 

“Thanks for the help, Y/N.”

You give Robin a thumbs up. “Anytime.”

Erica announces that she’s in the air ducts and you feel the familiar burden of fear creep through you as she now goes quiet. Steve’s hand finds yours and he attempts to ease your discomfort as you all wait. “Erica will be fine, Y/N.”

“Yeah, totally!” Robin tries to reassure you as well, though she looks nervous too.

The minutes drag by at an agonizingly slow pace. The three of you hold your breath, waiting for Erica’s assurance that she’s safe and okay, and you pray to whatever god that’s up there to listen and keep her safe. 

If anything happens to her, it would only be your fault for not having learned your lesson sooner. 

“Alright, nerds.” You let out a breath of relief when Erica radios again, and you can feel Steve exhale as well. He’d been worried, too. “I’m there.”

“Do you see anything?” Robin asks, voice alight with excitement now. 

“Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.” 

“Any guards?”

Erica pauses a moment, presumably scanning for any signs of danger, before responding. “Negative.”

You breathe out again with relief. At the very least, Erica is in a safe enough location. 

However, Robin isn’t done asking questions yet. “Booby traps?”

“If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”

You grab the radio again from Robin. “Erica, have I told you that you’re my favorite child?”

“You haven’t, but I know I am,” there’s a bang over the other end of the walkie, then a loud thud followed by a grunt, before her voice comes through again. “I’m in.” Then, not even a minute later, the door to the vault begins to lift up, revealing a smug looking Erica on the other side. 

You all stare at her in awe, and she snaps her fingers at you. “Free ice cream for life.”

Steve lets out a surprised laugh and a smile crosses your face as well. Even though you’re still entirely against what’s happening, you can’t believe that the plan worked. You guys successfully broke into a Russian vault. 

That beats Demodogs any day. 

You, Steve, Robin, and Dustin climb down from the roof to get to Erica as fast as you can. When you finally join her, you risk her fury and pull her into your arms for a hug. “You’re so much braver than I was at ten.”

Erica shoves you off of her. “That doesn’t at all surprise me.” 

While you make sure she’s okay, Dustin and the others investigate the room. There’s boxes everywhere with tape all over them. Lifting one up onto a table, Steve turns to you. “Can I borrow that switchblade, Y/N?”

“She’s got it,” you point to Erica. “Talk to the kid.”

Steve frowns, having unexpected this, and, being scared of the girl, he laughs nervously. “Uh, Erica? Can I have that switchblade now?”

She rolls his eyes at him and digs through her pockets to retrieve it. “Aren’t you the man in the relationship? Why don’t you have your own pair of knives?”

You cover your mouth to try and stifle the laugh that escapes you, but it’s no use. Steve hears it and sticks his middle finger up at you before finally opening the box. Cutting through the tape, he opens the box’s flaps to find a metal storage container within them.

When Steve reaches his hand inside the box, you stop him. “Please, be careful.”

“I got this, angel.” However, he slows his movements and carefully grabs at the container’s handle. Slowly, he turns it, and it lets out a terrifying hiss as air escapes it. Removing the lid, more air comes crawling out and reveals four individual cylinders.

“Definitely not delicious noodles and sensible shoes.” You breathe out, and Steve hums in agreement.

“That’s a weird way of saying ‘you were right, Dustin’.” Your brother snarks, and you hit his shoulder to shut him up.

Meanwhile, Steve waves his hand at the four of you, motioning you to back up. “Uh, maybe you guys should, you know, stand back.”

Robin and Erica don’t hesitate to listen, but you and Dustin remain where you are. There’s a silent agreement between the two of you to not abandon Steve, he needs you. When he sees that you both haven’t listened, Steve pleads with you. “Just step back, please? I’m doing this for you guys, this could be dangerous.”

“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time. 

Steve tries to argue again, but you remain firm in your stance. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

His words falter at the sincerity in your voice, and he wishes it was just the two of you alone right now so that he could stroke your cheek and kiss away your concerns. He’s filled with warmth by your care for him, but just like you would never put him in danger, Steve would never put you in any danger either. 

He loves you with everything within him, he just wishes he could tell you this. 

“If you die, I die.” Dustin proudly declares, breaking Steve out of his thoughts. 

You stare at your brother, as does Steve, and together the two of you awkwardly pat the kid’s shoulder to acknowledge his sentiment. With a cough, you add, “Hendersons with Harrington.”

Steve clears his throat, overwhelmed and slightly off put by the bizarre support. “Okay, I guess.” He grabs at one of the cylinders and twists slowly, and when it unlocks, he lifts and reveals a bubbling green liquid. “What the hell?”

Robin asks what the substance is and you feel like you’ve lost your mind. You have no idea what the fuck is happening anymore. “God I hope it’s scary Kool-Aid”

As soon as the words have left your mouth, you feel rumbling beneath your feet. 

Immediately, you know you’ve fucked up.

Dustin looks up at you in alarm. “Was that just me, or did the room move?”

“Booby traps,” Erica whispers, looking scared as well.

A mechanical whirring sound infiltrates your ears as the room starts to shake again, and every part of your body screams at you to run. Something is very, very wrong. Grabbing Dustin’s hand, you start to head towards the door. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Let’s go!” Robin follows you, not needing to be told twice, and grabs one of the vials of liquid as she does so. 

“Which one is the button, Erica?” Dustin asks, fingers hovering over the control panel’s buttons after pressing one failed.

“Just press the damn button, nerd.”

You turn to her, panic rising. “He is, but nothing’s happening.”

“Press ‘open door’.”

Dustin presses the button again but still, nothing happens. Frantic to escape the room now, you shove him aside and try yourself. Your fingers press roughly against it, but still the doors won’t budge. 

Steve joins, sliding next to you as he starts to try pressing the buttons. “Here, press the other button.”

You slap his hand. You’re overwhelmed and scared and anxious and he’s five seconds away from losing an eye. “I already did that!”

Dustin starts to argue with Steve now and they push you back, repeatedly hitting whatever they can touch, as Robin and Erica shout their own useless and unneeded advice that is helping absolutely no one. You stand behind the boys, hands pressed against your head as you start to hyperventilate with panic.

Then, walls come slamming down on all sides of the room, effectively kick starting your panic attack. The lights begin to flicker as the room suddenly drops. Your stomach lurches into your throat as you’re thrown downward, and instinctively you grab for Dustin in your panic as Steve grabs for you. 

Everyone screams as you plunge into the darkness.

-

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #nya #m's writing #steve is just a boy doing his best #and erica !! #WE FINALLY HAVE ERICA !!!

[endelineinwonderland]

Let The Light In: Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Words: 3.2K

Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies to lovers, reader is actually so incredibly in the wrong, but in this part P is also so incredibly in the wrong, slow burn, the girls are gonna need to confront some pretty deeply rooted attachment issues!!

A/N: Thank you for the love!!! I tried to get pt. 5 out asap so once again, if you see me editing this later, no you didn't!

—-

“Paige, hey Paige, look at me, it’s gonna be okay angel, just focus on me.” You were crouched in front her, slouched over in a desk chair, her tear-filled eyes staring blankly at the floor. Gently, you lifted her shaking hands to press against your clavicle before beginning to take an exaggerated breath, signaling for her to do the same. Her eyes, wide with panic, locked onto yours as she mirrored your breathing.

You had found her sitting alone in her hotel room, dressed and ready for the dinner you were supposed to be at 20 minutes ago. When it became obvious that Paige wouldn’t be making an appearance in the lobby anytime soon, you had told the team to leave without the two of you.

Paige took a deep, steadying breath, her eyes never leaving yours. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I just... I couldn’t.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured her, squeezing her hands gently. “You don’t have to apologize. Let’s just sit here for a bit until you feel ready, okay?” She nodded again.

You glanced around the room, taking in the scene. Paige’s button-up, a light blue that matched her eyes, seemed to hang off her like a heavy shroud. On the dresser, an untouched glass of water and a scattering of jewelry hinted at her earlier preparation for the night that now seemed so far away. The room felt frozen in time, every object a silent witness to whatever had happened as she got ready, whatever had led you to finding her in this state.

The clock on the wall ticked softly, filling the silence between breaths. Paige’s breathing was more even now, but her grip on your hands was still firm, as if letting go would mean losing her grip not just you, but on reality. You gave her a soft smile, hoping to convey the reassurance words couldn’t fully express. “Whenever you’re ready, we can go. Or we can stay here. It’s entirely up to you.”

She nodded; her gaze still locked on yours. “I don’t want to go anymore,” she said, her voice trembling but stronger than before.

“Okay. We can stay.” You shifted slightly, moving up to sit on the arm of the chair, leaning to rest your chin atop her head, your free hand running languid circles over her shoulders.

A few hours later, room service had been ordered and an old movie played softly in the background. Paige had curled herself into a ball at your side, looking over at your laptop while you flipped through pictures from the day's game. She seemed more relaxed now, her eyes following the images on the screen with mild interest.

“This was a good one,” you said, pointing to a picture of her after getting a particularly impressive shot in, her face had lit up with joy and you had automatically zoomed in to capture it.

Paige nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, that was a good one,” she murmured.

“You did so good today, P. ‘M so proud of you.”

She leaned her head against your shoulder, her body gradually unwinding from its tight coil. “Thanks,” she said softly.

“Always,” you replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, hesitating before you spoke again. “Do you wanna talk about it yet?”

A deep sigh left her parted lips. “You’re busy, it’s okay.” She pointed her chin to the computer resting on your lap, waving you off.

You nodded, turning your attention back to your screen, not pushing it any further. 

After sending your photos over for review, you had gotten ready for bed, and when you returned, her back was facing you. You drift off to the sound of her shallow breaths, assuming she’d already fallen asleep.

In the quiet darkness, right before you crashed, you had barely made out a whisper so soft that in your fatigue you’d written it off as your imagination. “I felt like I was drowning all day until you found me.”

You didn’t respond.

—-

You have been horrible you realize. Over the course of the night watching Paige, the memory of her saying "I loved you" had evolved, playing all your worst moments from the past few years over and over again like a broken record until you’d gotten stuck on the words: “I felt like I was drowning.”

Charlie had to take over selecting and sending the cover shots to Leo. Your posture now mimicking Paige’s that night, curled in on yourself, Charlie playing your role, sitting beside you protectively, and doing a much better job than you had at balancing both her work and your emotions.

Tears were running silently down your cheeks, with Charlie occasionally turning to you to wipe them off, her soothing hums filling the room. You vaguely remembered telling her how your mom had hummed you to sleep whenever you weren’t feeling good as a kid, and evidently, she had remembered. It seemed like everyone but you knew how to do this, how to take care of people, how to show them you love them.

Maybe, you wondered, you were meant to be alone forever. You didn’t know how to care for people the way they wanted to be, and it seemed as though everyone else around you had been born knowing. 

What was it about you that made it so hard? You must just be meant to be alone. All your love had been poured into the thing you were best at: photography, it has gotten to the point where there just must not be enough left for anyone or anything else. 

You thought that had changed when you met Paige; she was the first person who could have ever held a candle to your pictures, but in the end, you had chosen them over her. You had chosen yourself over her, again, again, and again.

Charlie paused in her work, noticing your silent despair. She leaned closer, her voice gentle yet firm. “You’re not alone, you know. We all make mistakes, but we can learn from them. You have a good heart, even if you don’t see it right now.”

You shook your head, the tears flowing more freely now. “I hurt her. I didn’t know how to help her. I failed her in every way possible.”

Charlie took your hands in hers, mirroring the gesture you’d once used to comfort Paige. “You did your best. You know, I took a picture too when she got hurt that day. Yours was way better obviously, but you weren’t the only one who took the shot. You were just the only one with your name attached to it, and that’s not your fault, that’s Leo’s. And I know you love the man but every now and then he puts our work over our emotions, and this was one of those times.”

Her words were a salve to your aching heart, but the guilt still weighed heavily on your shoulders. “I don’t know if I can forgive myself for even having ever wanted to take it,” you admitted, voice trembling.

Charlie squeezed your hands gently. “I get that. I felt bad when I looked at mine that night, but I thought about it some more, and I think that’s just what we do. It’s not a conscious decision but like a self-soothing thing. I mean, when Paige gets upset or things feel out of control, what does she do? She picks up her basketball. Your version is picking up a camera. Just start by being kind to yourself. You can’t change the past, but you can change how you move forward. And you don’t have to do it alone.”

You nodded slowly, the first glimmer of hope piercing through the fog of self-doubt, giving way to one of the first coherent thoughts you’d had all week. “Charlie, I think I still love her.”

Charlie’s eyes softened, and she gave your hands another reassuring squeeze. “Then tell her. Show her that you’ve learned, that you’re ready to be there for her in the way she needs. It’s never too late to try.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of your emotions settling into a more manageable burden. “I don’t know if she’ll want to hear it,” you confessed.

“She might not,” Charlie nods, “but you’ll never know unless you try. And even if it takes time, even if it’s hard, it’s worth it if she means that much to you.”

You buried your head in your hands, letting out your first proper sob of the night. Charlie wrapped an arm around you. The tears flowed freely now, in a cathartic release of all the guilt and pain you had been holding inside. For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable, to let someone else see the depths of your hurt.

Charlie held you through it, her soothing hums a reminder that you weren’t alone. When the sobs finally subsided, you felt lighter, as if a part of the burden had been lifted.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying.

“I know,” Charlie said softly. “But you’re brave too.” 

You nodded, letting her words sink in for a few minutes before standing to grab your phone. Ignoring the pang in your chest when you saw all the messages left on read under Paige’s contact, you started texting her.

12/5/22

Just checking in

I’m stuck with Leo, I’ll be in the back asap

Read

They just told me you were taken to get scans. I’m sorry it took me so long

I’m praying everything comes back alright, call me whenever you can P

Love you

Read

Azzi called me, I’m so sorry this is happening

I tried to call you, I know you’re probably slammed right now so don’t worry about getting back to me. Just take care of yourself.

I’ll see you soon

Read

12/7/22

Good luck today

Love you P

Read

Nika told me everything went well!!!!!!

Read

12/10/22

Hey I just tried to ft you

Read

12/12/22

Call me back when you can, hope everything’s alright and that you’re feeling better.

I miss you 

Read

11/8/23

We need to talk

Sent 

“Who are you texting?” Charlie turns to you, curiously. 

Letting out a breath you turn to her, “Paige”

“Wait what?” Her tone of voice worries you, “Okay, okay, you know what, I did say you were brave I just didn’t think you’d be that brave, at least not right now.” 

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed. Your heart racing as you saw Paige’s name flash on the screen.

11/8/23

Yeah

U free now?

Your hands trembled as you typed out a response. “She wants to meet,” you said, barely above a whisper.

Charlie squeezed your hand reassuringly. “I’ll be here when you get back.” 

Taking a deep breath, you hit send and stared at the screen, watching as three little dots immediately appeared. Your heart pounded in your chest, the anxiety you had just passed flooding through you with a newfound force. When the message finally came through, it was simple: I’m not rooming with anyone this time, rm 1503.’

You stood frozen for a moment, the meaning of the message sinking in. This was serious, this was happening. 

Gathering your courage, you took a deep breath and headed toward the elevator, each step feeling heavier than the last. The ride to the fifteenth floor seemed to take forever, your mind racing with every possible outcome. What would you say? How would she react? Would she even want to listen?

As you walked down the hallway, the muffled sounds of other guests—laughter, conversations, the occasional clinking of glasses—faded into the background, your focus solely on the marks on the doors as you approached. The numbers climbed agonizingly slowly: 1500, 1501, 1502….

When you finally reached room 1503, you paused, your heart hammering in your chest. You took another deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions, and the muted lighting cast long shadows on the patterned carpet. The air felt thick, choking you with each inhale. 

You raised your hand, hesitating for a split second before knocking gently. The door opened almost immediately, and there stood Paige, her expression a mix of apprehension and determination. She stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter, still not speaking.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice slicing through the silence in a way Paige must have disapproved of, you think, noting her slight flinch at you.

You stepped into the room, noting its simple coziness—it was nicer than yours, but that wasn’t shocking. A neatly made bed, a small sitting area by the window, and a suitcase still packed in the corner. The city lights outside cast a gentle glow into the room. Under very different circumstances, you’d have asked to set a camera up at the window for a few long exposures.

Paige closed the door behind you, then moved to sit in one of the chairs by the window you had gotten lost staring out of. “Do you wanna sit?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

You nodded, moving to sit in the chair opposite her. When the silence stretched between you, heavy with anticipation, you realized Paige wasn’t going to speak first.

“I know this isn’t enough, but I don’t know where else to begin: I’m so sorry for everything,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve spent so much time thinking about what happened, and I realize now how much I hurt you. I didn’t know how to help you, and I didn’t put in the effort to learn how. I failed you. But I’ve been trying to learn from my mistakes.”

Paige looked at you, her eyes searching your face as if trying to gauge the sincerity of your words. “I felt so alone,” she said quietly. “I needed you, and you chose literally anything over me, that damn camera over me,” her voice breaking at the end of her sentence. 

You couldn’t tell if her uncharacteristically early display of emotion was just a sign of her fatigue or a sign of the true extent of her suffering.

Heart aching, you resisted the urge to reach out for her. That’s not something you’re allowed to do anymore. “I know. And I’m sorry, I’ll tell you every day until we die if you need me to.”

“I was horrible, and I didn’t see how much you were struggling, or maybe I just ignored it because I didn’t know how to handle it. You’re more important to me than anything else. I know I’ve hurt you, but I want to be better. I want to be there for you in the way you need.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked away, her voice trembling. “I just—I just don’t know how to believe you.”

Your heart dropped to the floor. You felt the weight of her words, the profound sense of doubt and mistrust. This was the moment of truth, the crossroads where everything you had hoped for hung in the balance. 

“I understand,” you said softly, your own voice breaking before you can speak up again, “I spoke to Charlie earlier.” 

Paige winces at this, “I’m sorry for ignor-“ You shake your head softly, stopping her. “It’s okay.” 

Before she can open her mouth to disagree, you take a deep breath, readying yourself for what you were about to say. “Charlie told me she had taken pictures that day too. I’m not saying this to defend what I did, but to try to explain it because I’m still trying to understand it myself. She said that the reason she took the pictures was to cope with how awful everything was in that moment. You know how when things are just horrible and out of control, and you want to fix it but can’t, so you automatically start doing whatever you know how to do, even if it’s not helpful?”

Paige tilts her head, her brows furrowing in thought. You continue, “Like how when things in your life feel stressful or out of control, you go shoot hoops or something? I do the same with my camera. I just took it way too far that day. I’ve relived that moment a thousand times in my head, and I can say with absolute certainty that out of any choices I could have made, I made the worst one. Saying I’m sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it. And again, this isn’t an excuse, but just trying to make it make sense, or at least a little bit of sense.”

Your shoulders sag with something vaguely resembling relief as you finish. The silence between you stretched, heavy and suffocating. Paige's eyes remained fixed on you, her expression unreadable. You felt exposed, every word you had said hanging in the air, vulnerable and raw. 

After what felt like an eternity, Paige finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “You know, I meant it when I said I love you, and for a long time, I thought you could do anything and I’d forgive you.”

You nodded, hands quickly moving to wipe the tears that fell down your cheeks a little faster when you had moved your head. “You don’t need to forgive me. If you think you can, I’ll fight tooth and nail for it, but I will understand. I’ll always be here if you need me though."

You look up at her, reaching a hand out between the two, an olive branch of sorts.

"I’ll always love you too Pa-”

You’re cut off by the blonde suddenly standing from her chair, her movements hasty as she bends slightly over you to capture your lips with hers. The kiss is just as intense as it is unexpected, filled with a mixture of desperation and longing. It takes you a moment to process what’s happening, but then you kiss her back, pouring all your feelings, all your apologies into that one moment. Lips pressed roughly against hers, your hands find their way to her waist, holding her firmly in place as if afraid she might disappear, that this might not be real. 

Paige's body melts into yours, surrendering completely to you. Your hands gently explore the smooth planes of her back, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her T-shirt. As the kiss deepens, your senses become hazy, consumed by the sensation of her lips and the sweet taste of her mouth. You can feel the beat of her heart against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own.  A mix of relief and longing wash over you. It felt like the first breath of air after nearly drowning, like finally coming home after wandering lost for so long. You pulled her closer, fingers pressing against her back, trying to commit every second to memory.

When Paige finally breaks the kiss, she’s breathless, her eyes wide and searching yours. 

“Shit,” she pulls herself back, hastily moving her fingertips up to press against her lower lip.

You can hardly speak, your brain trying to catch up with the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. "What..." you begin, struggling to find the right words as you catch your breath. "What was that?"

She stands rooted in her spot in front of you, a deer caught in the headlights. “I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that. You should go.”

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige buckets #paige bueckers fic #wcbb #wcbb x reader #wlw #uconn huskies #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers headcannons #fanfic #angst #wbb

[storiesofsvu]

Forced Hand

Casey Novak x reader warnings: language, regular SVU case details talked about/mentioned, anxiety attack. it's a hurt/comfort besties. A combination of requests that were relatively along the same lines so I put it together into one. Welcome back to the blog Ms Novak, we've missed you! If you don't want to miss a thing, sign up for the taglist here! If you like what you read, don't forget to reblog/comment and always feel free to send in your own requests! They're always open!

You worked homicide, you weren’t supposed to be in a courtroom like this, and you certainly weren’t supposed be on the losing side. Your squad had picked up a case that later appeared to be linked to a string of open cases over at SVU and your captains insisted on working together. A few extra sets of eyes were always a good thing, a fresh perspective on the situation, they said.

What they hadn’t been able to prep you for was the viciousness of the case, and the fact that three of the victims were still alive. The crime scenes had been brutal and you were honestly shocked that anyone had survived through it, you’d been rattled to your core to discover your victims were all girls under the age of twelve. Girls who you had to watch be treated for shock on top of their injuries before retraumatizing them all over again with questioning to get their full stories, children who you then had to spend hours prepping for the brutality of a trial like this.

You were typically good with kids; Casey knew that which was one of the reasons she’d chosen you along with Benson to help her prep everyone. She watched with pride as you were able to break things down from confusing legal terms to something the girls could understand, how soft you were with them, how cautious you were how well you worked with Olivia in reminding them how strong and brave they were for doing this, and that the bad guy couldn’t hurt them anymore.

She also watched how that strong, encouraging façade would drop the moment you stepped into your shared apartment, weariness and exhaustion taking over your features and you turned down dinner and attempted to wash the day away in a too hot shower. You’d eventually reappear a couple of hours later in a pair of sweats and her worn Harvard tee, silently cuddling up to her side on the couch and she’d pass off her glass of scotch for you to finish. She’d put her work away, wrapping it up neatly so you wouldn’t have to see any of the crime scene photos again, urging you to lean into her embrace, pressing soft kisses to your skin and the top of your head until your stomach would let out a growl you’d finally submit to ordering some take out. You never said a word about it, and Casey never once pried or poked around until you said something, she let you go about your day, happy when she would catch you smiling or laughing with someone and she would always make sure she was ready and available for extra cuddles and wordless encouragement. She knew you were struggling, but that you were also handling it, and doing so in your own way, the case was close enough to over that you’d be able to breathe freely again in a matter of days.

However things were looking bleaker and bleaker as the trial strung along. The girls were strong on the stand for Casey, answering properly, detailing what they needed to, not matter how hard it was. When Casey turned around to take her seat again she caught your eye in the gallery and felt her heart tug at the tears shimmering in your eyes and the pain written across your face. What she missed was that pain turning into absolute outrage as the defence attorney started their cross and tore into all three of the victims like he was the devil. He twisted things around, barked out questions too quickly, stepped too close to the witness box, doing everything he could to get at least one person on the jury to side with him. And every motion he made broke down those poor little girls and their families even more. And you right along with them.

Casey lost you at lunch, no clue where you had ran off to when you weren’t in her office when she got there. Still, she knew you’d be there for the verdict, so she grabbed an extra coffee on her way back, deciding to go in the side door to avoid the press. She jumped a puddle as she crossed the street, cursing that she’d left her umbrella in her office, thinking the rain was done for the day. Dodging rain drops she finally rounded the bend to the side door and found you leaning up against the wall, staring down at your feet until you heard her voice.

“It’s raining, you should be inside.” She commented.

“I’m fine.” You replied, and her eyes caught the movement of your hand, hiding it behind your back and she realized you’d snuck out for a smoke.

“Okay.” She stepped up to you, kissing your cheek softly, “don’t get too cold.” She passed off the coffee and you took it from her with a small smile.

“Thanks.”

Her finger curled under your chin so she could catch your eye, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You mustered up a small smile, letting her kiss you softly before she disappeared inside.

Finishing your smoke, you stubbed it out with your toe and took a heavy breath, the last thing in the world you wanted to do right now was go back into that courtroom. You didn’t want to know the outcome, wanted to walk away from this forever and pretend it never happened. But you knew that those families were depending on you and your squads to help get them through it, to be the backbone when the verdict was read and help them figure out what their next steps were. There was a reason you preferred homicide.

The surefire grin on the perp’s face was the first tell, how casually he was talking with his lawyer, the nearly awkward, slightly guilty look on the faces of half the jury was the second, the way Casey’s hand tightened around her pen as she chewed on her lip, her jaw tightening was the last. You felt the burning in your stomach start to creep up your throat, your hands shoved into your pockets so no one would see them shaking as the verdict was read.

“Not guilty on all counts.”

Your ears were ringing, you couldn’t hear yourself think much less the commotion in the courtroom, the scared and confused questions coming from the girls as their parents scrambled to try and figure out any kind of an answer. Your vision was nearly blurring and this time it wasn’t from the tears, everything about this was wrong, it was more than wrong and it was disgusting. Someone grabbed your hand and it was as if you had been clapped on the ears and you could suddenly hear the cries of the girl beside you, the terror written across her tiny features as she looked up at you for an answer. You barely heard yourself when you spoke,

“I’m so, so sorry.”

Your chest was suddenly tight, squeezing all the air out of your lungs as pictures from the case began to invade your brain, memories collaborating with imagination, making everything even worse. You weren’t entirely sure what was happening but you knew you couldn’t let it happen in this courtroom.

When Casey heard the door heavily drop shut she instantly knew it was you leaving and her heart dropped into her stomach. A glance over her shoulder confirmed her theories, catching Liv’s gaze with an incredibly apologetic look in her eyes, the brunette nodded, her way of saying ‘I know you did everything you could’ before her head tilted in the direction of the door. ‘I’ve got this, go get your girl.’ Casey didn’t even bother to give the defence the privilege of a glance as she packed up her things and slipped from the courtroom. Unsure on whether you would still be in the building or not she headed toward the side exit, knowing there was a fairly unused bathroom over there that was still close enough to the part you’d been in. She heard the flush of the toilet through the door, the sound of the tap running as she pushed it open, catching you rinsing out your mouth, splashing cold water over your face as you struggled to catch your breath.

You barely even noticed someone else in the bathroom with you, your vision still tunnelling and filled with gruesome, bloody images and the faces of those poor girls while they told their horrible stories. Wiping the water off your face you took a heaving breath, it still felt like there was a cinder block resting on your chest and as much as throwing up had helped, there was stomach acid creeping up your throat, making it burn even worse. Your brain started to race, remembering all the things you’d said alongside Olivia to the girls, encouraging them that it would all be okay, that you’d caught the bad guy, now you were going to put him away. That their nightmares would eventually stop, they wouldn’t have to be scared anymore because he would be in prison, the promises you’d made them, every single one of them turning out to be empty.

“Oh god….” It came out as a half choked sob and you turned toward the window, bracing your hands on the sill as the heavy cries started to spill from deep within you, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks.

“Hey…” Casey’s soft voice didn’t manage to break through your conscious, but you felt the welcomed coolness of her hand between your shoulder blades and you shuddered, “it’s not your fault.” Her hand began to rub slow circles, “you worked your ass off and did everything you could.”

You tried to form even a single word but you couldn’t find your voice, another choked sob escaping your lips as you started to hyperventilate, completely unable to get enough air into your lungs, feeling even more like you were drowning.

“Whoa, whoa…” Casey’s arms cautiously wrapped around you, “c’mere.” She pulled you flush to her, frowning at the feeling of your heart pounding against your ribs and just how hot your skin was to her touch.

You didn’t struggle, but you protested a little bit, your hands pushing against her arms until she grabbed your wrists in one of her hands, restraining you as she leant forward, pushing open the window as far as she could. You let out a cry, not wanting to be forced to be still but the sudden woosh of cold air was a refuge to your burning lungs and your breath shuddered as you finally collapsed against Casey. Your eyes finally cracked open, tears continuing to trail over your cheeks as the cool breeze ghosted over your skin. You could feel Casey’s heart strumming against your back, slow and steady, a stark difference to yours pounding in your chest, her breath was cool on the side of your neck, breathing calm and even. Her chest rising and lowering slowly, and you were able to slowly match her breathing, calming yourself down and you felt like you could finally breathe again, sniffling as you relaxed in her arms.

“I’m sorry…” you finally whimpered.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” She murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head, “you did your job.”

“I’m not strong enough.” You admitted with another soft cry, finally letting yourself turn around when Casey stepped away to grab a tissue. You took it from her but dropped against the wall, staring down at your shoes. “I can’t do this. I’m not good enough for it, I disappointed so many people today. I’m a complete failure.”

Casey’s hand found your cheek, wiping away your tears as she stepped back toward you, “you’ve been completely out of your comfort zone for almost a month, there’s nothing wrong with that, but you are not a failure.”

You dared a glance up at her, unsurprised at the complete empathetic expression on her face, “how do you do this every day?”

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I’ve cried in my office.”

“Case…” Your voice softened as the tears finally came to a stop.

“I know how incredibly hard sex crimes is, I didn’t want to be bringing that home to you every day.” She leant in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “you see enough brutalization over at homicide, I don’t need you getting SVU’s baggage too.”

“I am never going to forget the look on that girl’s face….” You were almost talking to yourself, staring off into the distance and Casey’s thumb and forefinger curled around your chin, redirecting your gaze to her face.

“You will.” She assured, “and it is because you are strong, and you are strong enough. Do you know how I know why?” You shook your head, “because I see the cases that you bring home, the trials you’ve sat through, the amount of times you’ve taken down a perp, dismantled a defence attorney during a cross. You’re not used to living victims, and that is completely okay. Days like today will absolutely rip you to shreds and make you think that you aren’t cut out for it, but you’re going to wipe these tears, keep that pretty little chin up and come out even stronger on the other side. Okay?”

You nodded meekly, trying to hold back any remaining tears as Casey wrapped her arms tightly around you, tucking you into the crook of her shoulder as you finally relaxed into the embrace. She held you for as long as you needed, leaving tender kisses on the top of your hair and your temple, hands soothingly rubbing up and down your back.

“You’re incredible baby, don’t even forget that.” She murmured, “you were forced to try your hand at a new thing and now we know it’s not for you. You’re still an incredible rockstar when it comes to homicide and come Monday that’s what you get to go back to doing. Promise me you won’t let this drag you down too long?”

She pulled away from the hug, her hand brushing a piece of your mussed up hair behind your ear before caressing down the side of your cheek and she left a kiss on the tip of your nose, waiting for a response. You took a breath, finally feeling calmed down enough to feel human again when you finally looked up at her.

“Only if you promise to not keep everything bottled up and to yourself anymore.” You offered and her brow furrowed, “I know you Casey, you wear your heart on your sleeve, someone like you, doing something like this every day? That can’t be easy, I don’t need to know all the details but I don’t want you doing it alone. You shouldn’t have to cry alone in your office when you can come home and cry over a pint of ice cream with some extra cuddles.”

“Okay.” Casey let out a tiny laugh, her lips curving up into a grin, a warmth soothing through her at the sight of smile finally on your cheeks. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” Her arm wound around your shoulders, “now how about we get out of here? A pint of ice cream sounds pretty fucking good right now.”

“And pizza?” You asked, looking up at her with a pout and puppy dog eyes and she chuckled again, kissing the tip of your nose.

“The perfect combo. But that doesn’t answer what Disney movie we’re going to watch to forget about today.”

“Mmm…” you tugged your lip into your mouth as you thought, “Emperors New Groove?”

“That… sounds amazing.” She smiled at you, “you ready to go home?”

“Yeah.” You replied with a soft sigh, leaning into her side for a moment before her hand trailed down your arm, linking your fingers with her own and you were finally ready to leave the bathroom. “Casey?”

“Yeah baby?” She glanced back at you, nothing but adoration pouring from her eyes.

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you to the moon and back.”

____________

@bisexualcrowley @red1culous @imlike-so-gaydude @wannabe-fic-reader @altsvu @disneyfan624 @svulife-rl @svushots @mysticfalls01 @bumblebear30 @solemnnova @infernumlilith @australiancarisi @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @thestarrynightslover @lawandorderuswnt @ex-uallyactive @hbkpop @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @narvaldetierra @dxtery @poisonedcrowns @a-little-bit-of-this-and-that @clarawatson @mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @yeeterthek33per @brooklynmhm @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @7thavenger @augustvandyne @msvenablesbitch @happenstnces @valentinesfrog @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @desperate-gay @riveramorylunar @irishavengersassemble @kmc1989 @holycrapraewth @noahrex @temp0rary-bliss @wittygutsy @chimnlex @nilaues @borinxnovak

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #forced hand #law and order svu #svu #law and order #law and order special victims unit #casey novak fanfic #casey novak hurt comfort #casey novak x you

[gabelish]

Danbert in The Thing (1982) expanded thoughts:

The two of them spend the winter down at outpost 31 during their final year of medical school for a work for credits situation under the guidance of Dr’s Blair and Copper.

Herbert, watching MacReady lose to the computer in chess from across the room. “I could take him.” Dan, looking up from his book. “In chess, right?”

Herbert gets up and does challenge MacReady to a game of chess however they get interrupted by the commotion of the Norwegian helicopter.

Dan primarily studies under Dr Copper (the physician who insists on going to the Norwegian camp to help them despite the weather risk) and brings Dan along with him to investigate the camp with MacReady.

Herbert primarily studies under Dr Blair (biologist who performs the autopsy on what they bring back from the Norwegian camp)

Herbert is initially disinterested in the other camp and advises against Dan going because he assumed they had all just experienced psychotic breaks and they might be dangerous. Dan and Dr Copper ignore him.

Dan and Herbert are however immediately aware that something is NOT right with the Thing Dog because unlike every other animal including the other sled dogs, this “animal” shows Herbert indifference. Though they have no idea why.

Herbert assists with the autopsy of the burnt humanoid brought back from the Norwegian camp and can barely contain his curiosity and excitement. Later Herbert wakes Dan up in the middle of the night and drags him to the autopsy room and makes him study the cells and the interactions with the reagent. Dan is very tired and wants to sleep.

The Dog Thing absorbing the other dogs scene takes place and Herbert again helps with that autopsy and MacReady notices how much of a little weirdo he is, and afterwards confronts Dan about it, asking him if he thinks Herbert is dangerous or can even be trusted. Dan hesitated and poorly explains away Herbert’s behavior. MacReady doesn’t trust either of them.

More late night science, though now MacReady is Suspicious.

Herbert really really wants to see if the reagent can reanimate the dead Things but Dan scienceblocks to the best of his ability

MacReady notices them in the lab and witnesses a tender moment between them and concludes more or less correctly that that’s the origin of their strange behavior (though it’s also because Herbert is still keeping the reagent a secret).

Blair runs the computer simulation, to which Herbert is a witness to, and finally becomes concerned about the Thing, primarily because he doesn’t want to die down there. Subplot is that Herbert is frustrated no one listens to him because he’s just a kid compared to the rest of them. (MacReady particularly loves calling both of them “kid”) And so he highly doubts these dumb ass men can keep them safe.

Herbert tests a few Thing cells under a microscope with the reagent and it does indeed work just as normal. Dan points out that this doesn’t actually help them in any meaningful way except for satisfying Herbert’s curiosity to which Herbert basically says “that’s the whole point” and Dan gets so frustrated he storms out, leaving Herbert alone, which makes Herbert, still slightly paranoid that at least one member of the crew is the thing, to follow along with Dan, apologize, and insist on staying together every moment possible.

Blair has his breakdown, destroying the vehicles and radio equipment to prevent escape, Herbert is nearly killed as a result, similar to Palmer, before running and alerting everyone. The station crew then lock Blair in the shed.

Dr Copper is killed while trying to save “Norris” from his heart attack, leaving Dan and Herbert the best physicians and biologists available to them. Herbert agrees with MacReady’s idea to use the hot needle on the blood. No one really trusts Herbert or MacReady at this point which makes Childs even more convinced the test is horseshit and that Herbert and or MacReady are clearly the thing and Dan defends Herbert by saying “no he’s always like this trust me”

They all pass except Palmer who famously fails the test, infects Windows, and MacReady incinerates them while Herbert drags Dan out of the room and decides they need to get out before this thing kills every last one of them.

Dan and Herbert stay behind with Childs, packing up and arming themselves just in case, while the others go to test Blair.

Dan questions how they’ll escape since Blair destroyed the equipment and after some discussion away from Childs, the two of them correctly anticipate that the Thing will likely sabotage the power on the station in order to hinder the team from finding it (they don’t know about the spaceship it’s constructed yet)

Dan and Herbert head off to the power generator and wait for the Blair-Thing which quickly shows up and they manage to kill it without destroying the station, leaving Cain, West, MacReady, Childs, Nauls, and Garry alive.

Herbert and MacReady finally have their game of chess though it ends in a stalemate to which Herbert poorly hides his irritation and MacReady reveals he knew all about him and Dan yet at the same time he does compliment Herbert for helping save them. The six of them wait out the rest of winter until rescue comes.

#reanimator #daniel cain #herbert west #god if only I had the energy to write this as a long fic #I’d get like a third of the way and then abandon it which would suck #re animator #danbert

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

CW: Blood, Non-consensual biting

After Mitsuki rushed to Miguel and the others, Galileo and Drake watched the entire scene unfold.

Galileo: "If, hypothetically, humans captured a vampire kid and even hunters intervened to punish him, it would provoke the anger of other vampires, especially the purebloods."

Galileo: "They have always despised humans."

Drake: "All the conditions were in place for humans and vampires to confront each other, but that didn't happen."

Drake: "Mitsuki got involved; even historical figures showed up, and it ended without turning into a full-blown conflict."

Drake: "It's like luck is on her side. Her presence changes the course of the future."

Drake: "It looks like Mitsuki is indeed the woman of destiny."

After stating this conclusion, Drake let out a sigh.

Drake: "Even so, nothing has changed since the old days. Humans and vampires still hate and kill each other."

Drake: "In the end, all that awaits is destruction."

Galileo: "Yeah."

Even though he nodded at Drake's grim words, all he could think about was the scene they had just witnessed.

Galileo: ".........."

Galileo clenched his fist tightly and slightly lowered his sorrowful eyes.

He looked away from Mitsuki's figure, which was stirring up memories of his own past and shaking his beliefs.

Galileo: "Humans and vampires alike are nothing but foolish creatures."

Galileo: "They repeat their bloodstained history over and over again, refusing to learn anything."

Galileo: "But we can't just wait for the future that will inevitably come."

Galileo: "Let's make sure we get the destruction we need to end this world."

In his eyes, now staring straight ahead, there was no longer any trace of sorrow.

Miguel: "Mireia..."

After the residents and hunters had left, he forced out her name in a trembling voice with her lifeless body lying on his knees.

Mitsuki: "If only I hadn't let go of her hand. I'm so sorry."

Napoleon: "No, it was our fault for not being able to stop the hunters at that time."

Jean: "It's too late to undo it now, but we're sorry."

Miguel: "Don't apologize. You guys are vampires, too, right?"

Miguel: "Even so, you stood up to the hunters for us. Thank you."

Miguel: "And you, big sis. When you came, I felt so relieved and happy."

Mitsuki: "Miguel..."

He turned his gaze back to Mireia, and while stroking her hair, he continued speaking.

Miguel: "I'm a pureblood, but she was originally human."

Napoleon: "You mean she was turned into a vampire?"

Miguel: "Yeah. She was abandoned by her parents and wandered the streets, so I bit her and turned her into a vampire."

Miguel: "At that time, I was lonely, and she looked lonely, too."

Mitsuki: "I see, so that's how it was."

Turned vampires don't have the same resilient bodies or healing abilities as purebloods.

If they suffer serious injuries, they can die.

(That's why he said that earlier.)

After that, he began to speak little by little about their situation.

He had been living with his pureblood parents until one day, the vampire hunters captured them.

Miguel, who managed to escape alone, wandered through various towns and met Mireia, whom he turned into a vampire.

They started living together, but as children, they struggled to find blood for sustenance and had no place to stay.

One day, they found a dead person on a street corner in the slums and drank blood from it to stave off hunger.

Since then, they have been searching for corpses to drink blood from, but unfortunately, the residents caught them.

Miguel: "We never actually killed anyone."

Miguel: "We knew drinking blood from the dead wasn’t right, but I didn’t want Mireia to suffer."

His face twisted in anguish, as if he were about to cry again.

My chest tightened painfully, remembering the sight of the two holding hands so affectionately.

(They supported each other to survive even though they weren't real siblings, and even though one was a vampire and the other a former human.)

They were like little birds huddling together for warmth.

Miguel: "It's all my fault."

(Miguel?)

Miguel: "If I hadn’t invited Mireia to come with me when we met back then, she might have been picked up by someone else and lived happily by now."

Miguel: "She was killed by the hunters because she was with me!"

He gritted his teeth tightly.

Miguel: "Why? Why do the hunters take away my loved ones?"

Miguel: "Why did Mireia have to die!?"

I held my breath as he looked up, his eyes filled with intense emotion.

His profound sorrow turned into rage, reminding me of Galileo.

(I remember feeling the same despair.)

I remembered him screaming as if he had lost himself.

Jean & Napoleon: "Miguel."

Miguel: "I won't forgive them. I won't forgive those who took my parents and killed Mireia."

Miguel: "If they take lives just because they're vampires, then I'll kill them next time and get my revenge!"

Mitsuki: "Miguel!!"

I held him tightly, trying to suppress his anger.

Mitsuki: "Don't think about revenge. Even if you do that, your sadness won't heal."

Revenge would only lead to being consumed by anger and hatred, creating a negative cycle.

It would only reopen his wounds.

Miguel: "So you're saying you can forgive them!?"

Mitsuki: "I'm frustrated too. I think this is just too much."

(I want to blame the hunters and the townspeople, but above all, I'm angry at my own helplessness.)

I didn't know how to reconcile these feelings either.

Mitsuki: "But Mireia was smiling. She must have been happy to protect you in the end."

Mitsuki: "That's why I don't want you to be consumed by revenge and lose the kind Miguel that Mireia loved so much."

Miguel: "----!"

Napoleon & Jean: "........."

I let go of him and peered into his face.

His eyes, like stars, shook as tears overflowed and trickled down Mireia's cheek.

Miguel: "I... Ugh..."

Afterward, Miguel, exhausted from crying, fell asleep in my arms.

Napoleon carried him on his back, and Mireia’s lifeless body was cradled in Jean’s cloak.

Napoleon: “If this incident becomes publicized, Miguel will probably be exposed to public scrutiny.”

Napoleon: “If that happens, he might become a target for hunters again.”

Jean: "We're in the same boat. If they start looking towards the mansion, it’ll become troublesome."

Mitsuki: "Yeah, we don't want this to escalate any further for the sake of both of them."

After discussing, we decided to take the children to the mansion.

They agreed to explain the situation, consult Comte about Miguel's future as a pureblood, and find a peaceful resting place for Mireia.

Mitsuki: "Thank you both for your help. I'm sorry for getting you involved."

Napoleon: "You didn't drag us into this. At least we managed to save Miguel."

Jean: "Mitsuki, what will you do now? Will you return to the mansion with us?"

Mitsuki: "I..."

When I hesitated about whether to return to the mansion or the hideout, I suddenly saw a familiar piece of clothing fluttering at the corner of the street.

(Just now, was that a cloak?)

Jean: "Mitsuki?"

Mitsuki: "Sorry. I think I'll go back to the person I'm currently staying with first."

Mitsuki: "There's something that's been bothering me. For now, could I ask you to take care of Miguel?"

Jean: "I understand. Leave it to us."

Promising to visit the mansion soon, I parted ways with them and headed home.

I quietly entered the starlit room and saw Galileo gazing at the sky.

Mitsuki: "Galileo."

I called out to him, and he turned toward me without saying anything.

Mitsuki: "Were you in the alley just a while ago?"

Mitsuki: "I thought I saw you there."

Galileo: "And what if I was?"

He spoke with a cold look in his eyes.

Mitsuki: "You said it was none of your business. So why?"

It didn't seem like he just happened to visit that place after we parted ways.

(If it wasn't by chance, then what was he doing there near where Miguel and Mireia were captured?)

He answered my question.

Galileo: "I was observing your actions."

Mitsuki: "Observing?"

Galileo: "The events in the slums had the potential to deepen the conflict between humans and vampires, depending on the outcome."

Galileo: "But your actions changed the future. You even moved the historical figures."

(My actions changed the future?)

Galileo: "To achieve my goal, I needed to understand the fate you bring."

I couldn't fully understand what he was saying.

But one thing became clear.

Mitsuki: "So, you were just observing them for the sake of knowing that?"

Galileo: "........."

Mitsuki: "You did nothing while those children were being persecuted?"

He had used that situation for his own purposes.

Unlike his unchanging, mask-like expression, my lips began to tremble.

Mitsuki: "A young girl lost her life, and you just watched?"

Galileo: "........."

Galileo: "That girl was destined to die there."

Galileo: "What happened is an unchangeable fact. That's all."

At that moment, an indescribable emotion surged through me.

Mitsuki: "That's not true. Fate has nothing to do with it!"

Mitsuki: "You could've saved her life!"

Mitsuki: "How can you say it was just that and nothing more!?"

He barely furrowed his eyebrows.

Galileo: "That kind of mindset is just pure arrogance."

Galileo: "Don’t project your own helplessness onto me."

Mitsuki: "........."

The word 'helplessness,' which he told me many times, opened up a new wound.

(I know my own helplessness better than anyone.)

Every time he said it, and every time I witnessed something like today, I felt the pain again and again.

Mitsuki: "You're right. I'm helpless. I couldn't save Mireia this time either."

Mitsuki: "But to do nothing from the start is just using helplessness as an excuse!"

Mitsuki: "If there's even a little hope, I want to reach out for it. Just watching is something only a coward would do!"

Galileo: "What did you say?"

His voice resonated low, and the surrounding air wavered ominously, like flickering flames.

But the emotions running through me were unstoppable.

Mitsuki: “Even if you have a purpose, it doesn’t mean you can overlook what’s right in front of you.”

Mitsuki: “No matter what’s ahead, you can’t turn away from the lives in danger right before your eyes!”

Galileo: “..........”

Mitsuki: “You know the sorrow of loss, so you should know the pain.”

Mitsuki: “You just don’t want to face what’s happening right now because you’re a coward.”

Galileo: “Shut up!”

In an instant, my vision flipped, and my arm was seized and twisted behind my back.

His cold fingers dug into my throat, and I arched back in pain.

Mitsuki: “Ah!”

Galileo: "You think I'm a coward? Don't be ridiculous!"

Galileo: "You keep asking why I don't help, but even if I tried, the world wouldn't change! It hasn't changed!"

Mitsuki: "Galileo..."

Galileo: "People repeat the same history. Sorrow never ends, hatred begets more hatred, and lives are foolishly and eternally lost in conflict."

His fingers tightened around my throat, making it hard for me to breathe.

(I can't breathe.)

Galileo: "That's why I decided to destroy it all!"

Galileo: "And you..."

The next moment, his voice, strained and desperate, reached my ear.

Mitsuki: "Ah!?"

Something sharp pierced my skin and entered my body.

The pain in my neck made me jolt, followed by a sweet, throbbing sensation that spread through my entire body.

(What?)

(What's happening?)

As if to cut off my thoughts, his grip on my neck tightened further, blending the pain with an overwhelming, unbearable pleasure.

(He's biting me.)

Mitsuki: "Ah… Galileo…"

Galileo: "Haah. What do you know? What do you know about me!?"

Galileo: "You've never lost anything!!"

Mitsuki: "Stop…ahh!!"

His fangs sank deeply, and he sucked on my skin.

Heat spread through my body, and my fingertips grew cold due to blood loss.

(Galileo intends to kill me.)

He was draining my blood to take everything from me and kill me.

(He can't hear me.)

(My voice won't reach him.)

Touched by the abyss of his deep anger and hatred, tears began to flow down my cheeks.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

#ikevamp translations #ikevamp jp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp galileo #ikevamp drake #ikevamp

[its-alittleobssessed]

Currently rewatching season 2. This show is so fucking good. I joke about hating it, but it's soo. It's just. The supernatural of it all, man.

Theres this scene in ep 19, the prison episode, where Dean's talking to their lawyer, this business woman who's there to just do her job and get them a better deal than a death sentence.

She's a good lawyer, so she starts looking up their past, the routes they've taken and the footprints they've left behind, and every single witness ends up saying the same thing, Those boys saved me. Can't tell you from what, but I owe them. The statements lead her to a still, she starts questioning the faults and explanations, makes her feel like there's more to each story than she's willing to know.

And at one point Dean asks her for a favor. And he says, If you're as smart a PD as I think you are, then you can tell with just one look whether or not your clients are guilty, okay, just like that. So I want you to look at me, really look, and you tell me – am I guilty?

And Mara, this nobody lawyer who knows about Sam and Dean through the news, has seen the files on murders and grave robbing and arson and scamming, looks at Dean in this eyes and decides that all evidence--piles and piles of FBI record keeping--is suddenly bullshit. Because some other nobody across the state said, They saved me and, more than that, Dean Winchester has a look in his eyes she's never seen before.

She's never really belived in heroes--never really thought there could ever be someone who cared about this dirt ball of a planet enough to fight for it, but here, sitting between glass, sorrounded by guards, and communicating through cheap county jail telephones, she thinks she might've been wrong.

Henriksen said this guy's a monster, but Mara's worked with monsters before and they've never looked at her like this. Like they've got a purpose bigger than her, a goal, a heavy duty to some path she can't quite see. There's something about him--something bigger and other that she's not sure how to go against. Not sure if she wants to.

She looks at him and the world seems to, insanely, blur at the edges around him. He looks--good. As in, actual, care for people, good. The type of good that edges on theoretical altruism. It's insane.

And maybe that's why when Sam and Dean escape the prison, and Henriksen demands, Where are they? She just lies. Easy. Not knowing why she should, or where they're going, or if they'll ever see each other again. She lies and doesn't even feel bad about it because somehow she knows, trusts, that it's the right thing to do.

Like I know it's for the narrative okay, I know it's just for the plot to move forward, but the idea that Sam and Dean might seem just as supernatural as the monsters they haunt is something so juicy to me.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #writing #yes im normal about this show what are u saying #now i dont obsessively study each interaction with the boys thatd be insane

[kajaono]

Sometimes I remeber that the only adaptation that gave us "Wentworth saves Anne from the kid" was Netflix Persuasion and I stare at the ceiling in agony

#netflix persuasion #jane austen #persuasion #wentworth x anne #i thought once we get that scene i would rewatch it over and over again #yet here we are #it was even filmed in a good way #no slow mo #no yarning #and still... i still want to witness that scene again #because its the only one we have

[just-a-simple-dyke]

Kp is so good when they take themselves seriously i wish they did that more often

#torture scenes are a prime example #this show does visceral and cruel so well but only when it wants to!! i hate that theres so much comedy and slapstick in there #if they dialed down on the comedy for like 80% i knowwww they could achieve so much more in terms of plot and interaction with it #the occasional cinematic genius undermined by all the comedy makes me sew mad you do Not need that many tonal shifts😭😭 #porsches bathroom breakdown. when kinn let him go in the woods. the torture scenes. bathroom hj. ep 1 bar talk. most of ep 7 #tankhuns comedy i enjoy and think is a great breather bc it fits his scenes!! i dont think they should get rid of all comedy but like #keep it where it fits only otherwise it just upsets the mood flow #gdjdgdjd ok im okay again whatever. i refuse to call this a bad show bc theres so much good stuff in there it just needs more balance #and it needs more correction on certain narratives like please acknowledge big and ken hello?? why are u not doing a check of all staff #when you KNOW theres been a mole this should affect your security measures #i think if they really committed to the 'gritty mafia show' it wouldve worked out a lot better! obviously still keep in tankhuns wit #and the breathers of the honeymoon phase and porsche and chay together and such #but swap the slapstick for more insight into how each character feels about everything thats happened or more reflection yknow #anyway this is not necessarily in regards to ep 10 its just a general observation because sometimes this show goes !!!! #and other times its like. well. that was a choice #do i want to tag this......i dont think so

[fairuzfan]

But the other images I had was like a mass refugee camp. So basically at that point in time, two months ago, about 20,000 people had sought refuge both in the hospital and outside the hospital. And these weren’t tents. They’re still not tents. They’re makeshift shelters with bed sheets or plastic bag sheets. The ones outside sleep on the floor. They’re lucky [if] they get a carpet or a mat. There was one bathroom at the time for about 200 people that they have to share. And inside, the hallways of the hospital were also made into shelters. There was hardly any room to walk, and there’s children running around everywhere. It’s important to remember all these people were not homeless. They all had homes that were destroyed. They’re all displaced people that took shelter in the hospital.

So that’s the kind of mass chaos that I encountered initially, and then I was told that every time there’s a bomb, give it about 15 minutes and the mass casualties come. That was the other thing that at the time shocked me: What we’d been seeing livestreamed on Instagram, on social media or whatever, I actually saw myself and it was worse than I can imagine. I saw scenes that were horrific that I’d never witnessed before and I never want to see again. You have a mother walking in holding her 8, 9-year-old, skinny — because they’re all starving — boy who’s dead, he’s cold and dead and [the mother is] screaming, asking for someone to check his pulse and everybody’s busy in the mass chaos. So that was kind of my initial welcoming scene when I entered Khan Younis the first time.

{...}

What I saw — I’m an eye surgeon, an eye plastic surgeon, and so I saw the classic, what I penned “the Gaza shrapnel face,” because in an explosive scenario, you don’t know what’s coming. When there’s an explosion, you don’t go like this [cover your face], you kind of actually, in fact, open your eyes. And so shrapnel’s everywhere. It’s a well-known fact that the Israeli forces are experimenting [with] weapons in Gaza to boost their weapon manufacturing industry. Because if a weapon is battle-tested, it’s more valuable, isn’t it? It’s got a higher value. So basically they’re using these weapons, these missiles that purposely, intently create these large shrapnel fragments that go everywhere. And they cause amputations that are unusual.

Most amputations occur at the weak points, the elbow or the knee, and so they’re better tolerated. But these [shrapnel fragments] are causing mid-thigh, mid-arm amputations that are more difficult, more challenging, and also the rehabilitation afterward is also more challenging. Also these shrapnels [are] unlike a bullet wound. A bullet wound goes in and out; there’s an entry and exit point. Shrapnel stays there. So you gotta take it out. So the injuries I saw were — I mean, I saw people with their eyes blown apart. And when I was there, and this is my experience, I treated all children when I was there the first time. It was kids that [were aged] 2, 6, 9, 10, 13, 15, and 16, and 17 were the ones that I treated. And their eyes unfortunately had to be removed. They had shrapnel in their eye sockets that I had to remove and, of course, remove the eye. There’s many patients, many children who had shrapnel in both their eyes. And you can only do so much because right now, because of the aid blockade and because of the destruction of most of Gaza, there’s no equipment available to take shrapnel that’s in the eye out. And so we just leave them alone and they eventually go blind.

{...}

I was on the ground, I toured the refugee camps, I went around Rafah, I saw, and if there’s an Israeli invasion, I can’t emphasize enough how catastrophic it’s going to be. It’ll be mass killing, mass destruction, because all these figures come in, 50 dead, 100 wounded. But what people don’t realize is, being wounded is a death sentence. Being wounded in this environment with no health care system, completely collapsed, is a death sentence. And the wounded often will lose everybody, like all family members, so they have no supports, especially children, have nobody left to take care of them, not even aunts and uncles. It will be catastrophic. I don’t know what to say to the world to stop an impending invasion. You’ve got to rein this prime minister of Israel in. You got to do something to stop this stupid invasion that he still wants to do, because it’ll be catastrophic.

{...}

I had one young man, about 25 years old, he lost one eye that I took out myself. He spent about five, six, or seven years, basically spent thousands and thousands of dollars in IVF treatment because he got married young and they wanted to have a child and they couldn’t have one. So he spent years on IVF treatment and finally had a baby that was 3 months old. And there was a missile attack by Israel at his home. He lost his entire family, including his baby and his wife and his parents and family. He’s by himself, single guy. I took his one eye out, and he has nobody in this world. He just kind of walks around the tent structures, just kind of walking around with no home and trying to sleep wherever he can.

#palestine #gaza

[luveline]

spencer one shot where he’s angry at somebody else [bc he so does look so kissable when he’s angry >:(] maybe someone at one of the precincts they’re working at said something rude about r and he defends u and maybe he gets a lil kiss <3

im thinking “this is calm and it’s doctor” vibes bc that scene does things to me 😭

ty for requesting ♡ fem, 1.1k

cw for sexual harassment

"Jesus," Spencer says, rushing to stand behind you as you bend over. 

"Mm?" you hum. You're fishing for your dropped change unsuccessfully by the precinct vending machines. "They have your chips, did you see?" 

"Your pants are ripped," Spencer says, hand ghosting your thigh. 

"What?" you ask, shooting up. You turn on the spot to hide, hand leaping back. You feel at the seam. "Where?" 

"Top of your thigh." 

"Shit, really? Can you see my–" 

"Yeah," he says, meeting your wide eyes while you locate the rip. "How did you do that?" He laughs. 

"Don't laugh!" you demand, though you're giggling as you do, hand covering your thigh and the bottom of your butt inefficiently. 

"Do you want my jacket?" 

"Don't cover it up, toots." 

You and Spencer both blink. There's a crowd of grinning beat cops by the door of the cafeteria who've obviously witnessed your misdemeanour. "Toots?" Spencer asks. 

"Sorry, boys, that's the end of the show," you say with a grin. Not because you particularly enjoy having been oggled, but it's always been like this. Men will always make weird comments to you, and you've learned to play nice until they're out of your jurisdiction. 

"Turn back around," one says bravely, though you aren't sure which one. 

Spencer stands in front of you subtly. "Do you know that thirty eight percent of women experience sexual harassment in the workplace?" he asks, quick but measured. "Thirty eight percent, but I'm sure a much smaller number of those women are federal agents, and a smaller number again have the capacity to break your arm. I've seen her give serial killers radial fractures. I've seen her do worse." 

"We were just messing around," one says. 

"No need to get defensive," says another. "Don't get mad, boy." 

"I am defensive, but I'm not mad."

His tone attracts the attention of a precinct sergeant who barks at them to stop messing around and get back to work. "Were they bothering you?" he asks after they've filtered out with their heads down. 

"No," you say swiftly. "Everything's fine." 

Spencer frowns, worse when the sergeant leaves, turning to you to take your hand. A few weeks ago at a company picnic, when the sun was high and your spirits comparatively lower, you'd apologised to him for flirting. You love to flirt and especially with him, puppy eyed Spencer with his head of brown hair and his big brain, but some of the team suggested you were taking it too far. You apologised, but Spencer didn't really get what you were saying sorry for and took your hand to lead you out of the sun. He protects you. 

"You okay?" he asks. 

"I'm fine." 

"You sure?" His voice fries. 

"I'm sure," you say. His hand is an interesting thing on yours. He has long, long fingers that seem to possess their own willpower, moving even as they're sewn through yours. "I don't know what to do about my pants." 

Spencer's eyebrows pinch together. "Well, I'll take care of that. I'll find you something. I can't believe those as–" 

"Oh," you interrupt, taking your hand back in want of a better thing to hold, his cheek a mix of soft and scratchy against your palm. "You're still mad." 

"I'm not mad," he insists, though eventually he relents, "Alright, I'm angry that they'd think it was okay to objectify you." 

"What else?" you ask, letting your voice drop in pitch, the sound smooth as angora silk. 

"I'm thinking about if I hadn't been here." 

"I can protect myself," you murmur, endeared by the heat in his gaze. "You said it yourself, handsome. Radial fractures." 

"You shouldn't have to." 

"We both already know that," you say, the side of your hand slipping down his cheek reverently. He squints gently, his lashes dark triangles, his irises a browned sugar. His jaw clenches under your touch. "You're handsome." 

"Right now?" he asks dryly. 

"Are you handsome right now?" 

"Are you really flirting with me right now?" 

"Why wouldn't I be?" You draw a line under his ear whisper soft to curl a longer strand of his hair around the tip. "You look hot when you're winning." 

"What did I win?" he asks, like he doesn't want to know. 

You grin at him, stickying. "Would you like an itemised list?" you ask, rising on tiptoes to speak into the shell of his ear. "What do you think you deserve, handsome? For such a fearless defence?" 

He's not immune to your whims, but he is used to them, planting his hands on your shoulders to ease you back on sure footing. "I don't want anything. I'll always defend you." 

"Can I give you a small token of my gratitude, at least?" 

His pinking cheeks practically emanate heat. "We don't have time for this," he says regretfully, "I still have to find you a coverup." 

"Just a small token," you say. 

He hums and haws. "Alright. Okay, whatever you want." 

"You sure?" 

He nods once, his jaw working with something unsaid. You touch his neck, fingertips trailing along the underside of his jaw until you're sure it's what he wants before you brace your hands behind his head and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, close enough that the corner of his lips align with yours but don't overlap. His neck is hot in your hands, his hair soft, his breath hooking as you lift your lips just a touch and your nose digs into his cheek. "Thank you, Spencer," you whisper. 

He pulls you closer. 

You shudder as his hand presses into the small of your back, wondering what it is he wants to do. His fingers spread. Your thoughts turn to white noise. Like he can sense it, he breathes out and steps away, but any sense of urgency is gone. 

"As much as I might tease, I really do need some pants," you say. "I'm not very interested in anyone else seeing my panties today." 

He rushes off to find you something and you press the backs of your fingers to your cheeks, feeling the heat there with a resigned embarrassment. He has no idea how much power he has over you, in his stony anger and his eager reception. The phantom of his hand warms your back until he returns, his sweater in hand. "Sorry, this is it." 

"If you want me to wear your clothes, just say so." 

"Hotch is pretty pissed at us." 

"Ah," you sigh, tying his sweater around your waist, "another day in paradise, baby." 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[winterarmyy]

Welcome home... Soldat? | Part I

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Summary: Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 2.9k++

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, dubious con on groping reader's body, dark(?) possessive behaviour, google translated russian, our soldat is kinda cute(?) in his own twisted way, and well, basically fluffy times with the soldat.

P/S: Guys, I never planned this at all. I mean, who am I kidding? All of my fics are not planned and I clearly write things out of impulse. Therefore, this one don't have much of a story building/plot because it was born out of one scene that flashed in my head and has been replayed way to many times that I need to let it out. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it, somehow.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N didn't know when exactly she started this habit but she swore to herself to never grow out of it.

It's been nearly 2 years since the fall of Hydra and the avenger has accepted the winter soldier under their wing. Begrudgingly by Tony, but the rest of them seemed like they're not against it.

Y/N used to be an agent from SHIELD but since the fall, she had been recruited under the avenger's programme and had been living in the tower since.

She remembered the day when Bucky first came in, he was quiet and weary all the time. Like an abandoned cat, picked up by a stranger to come to their home. And it took the whole team months before he slowly adapted.

Who knew he would morphed into a sassy, grumpy little shit, right?

Since the first day, Y/N had been making an effort to make him feel welcomed. Helped him to adjust to modern times. Though it was not regular but she's glad he came to her from time to time to ask about things.

Y/N only meant it to be casual when she greeted him back from his missions. Usually, it'll be something like,

"Oh you're back?"

"How's the team?"

"Good to see you well put together from such horrendous mission."

"God, you look like you fell from 5 flight of stairs."

"Are you even trying to fight back, Bucky?"

But one time, Bucky came back in the morning around breakfast, she wasn't feeling sassy or clever. So, instead of greeting him with playful remarks, in the glory of her messy bed hair and iron man pyjamas, she greeted him with a sleepy smile, "Welcome home, Bucky."

And that surely made the 6 foot, bulky hunk of a soldier paralysed in his spot. His ocean blues slightly widen, and his cheeks deepen in blush.

For a moment, he wondered if this is how he would feel if he had a wife waiting for him to come back from war back in the 40's. But, then again nothing can be compared to the sight he was seeing as he is now.

And Y/N didn't want to ever lose that memory of him.

Cute and flustered Bucky is a very rare sight to see. Perhaps, this was the only time she could witness it and she want to cherish it for the rest of her life.

Though Bucky never replied to Y/N's greeting, it didn't stop them from starting a whole new routine.

Y/N always knew that she had a thing for the sargent, but about 2 months from that moment, Y/N realized she was in love.

And she waited for him, every single chance she had for arrival of the team to come back. Just like she is now, at 03:45 in the morning, while scavenging for something sweet she can eat as she waits for Bucky's return.

When, she turned around she was not expecting to have her face into clashed into something, "Oww!" Y/N shuts her eyes close as she rubbed her aching nose to ease the sharp strike of pain.

For a moment there, she seriously thought she might have just bumped into some kind of a solid air that appeared out of nowhere, but when she opened her eyes, it was just Bucky who was standing rather ominously still.

"My god, you scared the shit out of me. I know you used to be an assassin but, you gotta announce yourself sometimes, man." She joked. Although she did find it impressive that he managed to silently sneak up on her with those thick, heavy combat boots he was wearing.

"Woah, someone's been having a field day kicking your ass, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered a little longer on the wounds at the side of his temple that she didn't notice the void in his eyes.

"Anyway..." she continued as she shook of the thoughts of caressing the cut on the corner of Bucky's lip, before greeting him with a gentle smile, "Welcome home."

Bucky's unresponsiveness was nothing new to her. With the amount of silent glares and gruff eye-rolls that he had shot at her these past few months, she's used to it by now.

But, when she finally had the guts to look him in the eye, only then she noticed the underlying shift. Albeit, his signature frown was still as present as ever but, those eyes had made her questioned of the slight difference from what she recognized.

Bucky wordlessly step forward and cornered her until her back meets the side of the kitchen isle. He took his time assessing her, almost admiring the way her iris wavered in confusion.

Something is wrong.

Her guts were screaming at her to notice it but her body wasn't reacting accordingly. That's when the voice of the AI, Jarvis echoed through the walls.

"Emergency alert: Code Winter. Initiated by Captain Steve Rogers. All agent is advised..." The announcement went on based on protocol while the cogs in Y/N's brain finally moved, "Code Winter? That means..."

 "...to be cautious of Sargent James Barnes; reprimand on sight however try not to engage alone. Agents is..." Jarvis voice in the background interwoven with Y/N's internal deduction, "...This is not Bucky?"

As she tried to put her own mind into perspective, trying to make herself believe that this man in front of her is not Bucky Barnes who she had been adoring over for these past few months, the soldat's hands reached the side of her neck, squeezing the softness of her flesh while his thumbs grazed the shape of her jawline.

His heavy gaze remained on hers, willing her to stay as still possible.

"Bucky...?" She called his name in hopes of triggering something, anything for within his controlled mind.

At end of the corridor leading towards the kitchen, Steve could see how the soldat had already gotten his hands on Y/N and panic strike him like lightning, he sprinted towards her as he despretely shouted, "Y/N! Stay away from--"

But Y/N was not able to render anything she heard from Steve, especially after a long silence, the soldat finally spoke, "Yes, I'm home..."

He carefully pulled her face closer to his as his lips planted on her soft cheek, "...мое cолнышко (my sunshine)" he lifted for a second just to kiss her again on her temple as he whispered lowly, "...мое Родная (my darling)"

Y/N's heart was beating madly for several different reasons. Parts of her was terrified that the soldat might break her neck within an instance, but it gradually changes into something much more confusing, a conflicted joy, when he keep on trailing his lips all over her face.

What is happening?

Both her and Steve was practically frozen in pure confusion.

Steve's mouth hanged open as words failed to form, while Y/N was unable to comprehend any sort of thoughts, let alone counter movements; when the soldat continue to whisper Russian endearments against her skin, littering sweet kisses on every part of her face, except for her lips as if he wanted to tease her.

His hands slowly travel down her back and stopped on the side of her waist, pulling her body closer until there was no space in between them anymore, before he wrapped his arms around her.

The drag of his stubble on her skin burned but it felt so good when he kissed it after.

Seconds later, Sam managed to catch up with Steve and his cautious approach fell as he witnessed the soldat's rather domestic actions towards Y/N.

Sam foolishly let his guard down as he approached with a question directed to Steve, "Is the tin man back?" That was when a bullet barely grazed the tip of his ear that then buried through the wall behind him.

Both Steve and Sam forced to stop any sort of movement as the soldat's aim was still locked towards their direction; his cold blue eyes pierced with a menacing warning, all the while posessively holding Y/N in his arms as his kisses trailed the side of her neck.

"Nope, not yet." Sam answered his own question as he waited for Steve's order.

Y/N felt like she have to do something to de-escalate the situation. After a quick deduction, and based on the soldat attitude towards her, she took the risk of believing that he would not do anything to hurt her, so she decided to play along.

Will it work though?

Well, she got to have to try for it work.

She gulped nervously before softly calls for him, "Soldat?" she looked up towards him.

When the soldat gave her his attention, she watched the loose strand of his hair fall down to his face. Her hand went up and reached for it, "How about we go back to your room and let me tend these wounds, hmm?" She cooed while tucking his behind his ear and briefly caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers.

The soldat didn't reply but instead silently process her proposition.

However, the hesitation only worried her more, so she continued to persuade, as she cautiously slide her hand, following his arm that was holding her teammates at gun point, "It'll be just the two of us. How's that sound?" She smiled warmly at him as she managed to lower it enough to grab the gun away from his grasp.

There was a glint of indecipherable emotion in his eyes when she mentioned that, which then he nodded in agreement.

"Okay then, let's go." She put the gun on the kitchen isle behind her and replaced her hand in his, pulling him towards his bedroom. The soldat did not protest to her lead, in fact her followed her obediently.

But before Y/N makes an exit, she looked back towards Steve and mouthed a reassuring message, "I got this."

The captain had all the rights to be weary but at this point, he just had to believe in Y/N's action plan. He nodded and replied, "Be safe. We'll be outside."

Along the walk towards Bucky's room, all she could think was that she can handle it and she got this under control.

But, does she?

Well, Y/N did have it under control, in terms of keeping the soldat from going on a berserk rampage but what she didn't think through was how the fuck she should handle his behaviour towards her.

After they arrived to Bucky's room, she had instructed him to strip off his tactical suit and leave him sitting at the edge of the bed, only in his short to avoid him reaching for any hidden weapons he had, all the while she went to grab the first aid from his bathroom.

Now that she almost done tending the small injuries on his face, it finally dawned to her that the soldat had her immobilized in between his legs as his hands rubbed the back of her thighs, occasionally squeezing the softness of her body in his tender grip.

His intent gaze waited patiently for her to finish and as soon as she did, he pulled her on his lap, making her to straddle on top him as he smushed his face on her chest, "Oh, Родная (darling)... I have missed you."

Her hands found her balance on his shoulders while the soldat roaming hands held her body still by the back of her waist.

It will be a lie if she said her heart didn't skipped when he confessed; even if it was still the soldat's thoughts and words but it was Bucky's voice.

The soldat pulled his other hand to play with the buttons of her pyjamas shirt, specifically around her chest area.

Part of him wanted to just rip her clothes off from her body but another part of him didn't want to. He didn't want scare her; and his precious little darling deserved to be pampered.

He had her buttons popped off; one by one, slow and almost sensual while Y/N was still in a heated debate with herself on what she should to next. She wanted the soldat to stop but god the temptation of wanting more was beyond her will power.

This is not Bucky.

She knew that. But, she had been bewitched by the look in those familiar blue eyes. So enthralled and so keen to unwrap her.

Y/N let out a low yet sharp gasp as her chest was finally revealed, "Soldat, what..." The soldat take a quick glance into her eyes, "...are you doing?" before trailing back down to the curve of her breasts, cupped so beautifully with a simple black bra.

His hands went back to grabbed her thighs as he replied, "Just wanna hold you." He leaned closer and left a lingering kiss in between her breasts, mumbling deep, " Wanna feel you, мое Родная (my darling)"

Fuck, it feels so good.

"Wanna feel you..." Y/N's grip on his bare shoulder tightened as he lips warmed the top of her right breast, "...here." An unexpected moan slipped out of her lips as the soldat latched his wet mouth on her skin, bruising it with his mark.

He groaned to the taste of her, so sweet and soft, he wanted to pull the bra off her and suckle on her nipple. He bet that they're perky and so sensitive. Bet he could make her cum just by playing with them.

He wanted to leave his bite mark around them, make them look much more prettier. But, he needed to be patient.

He brought his left hand up to hold the other side of her chest; pulling another pretty noise as the cold metal of his thumb gently stroked the exposed skin of her breast.

"Wanna feel you..." His flesh hand made its way lower and cupped her clothed sex, unexpectedly making her grind down to his hold, "...here."

She couldn't help to find shelter in the crook of his neck when he began to stroke her sensually.

This is getting out of hand.

Y/N doesn't mind to entertain him if the soldat only asked for him to hold her but it was clear that he wanted so much more than just innocent touches. Especially when he languidly rubbed his middle finger in between the slit of her pussy.

She hates how easy it was for Bucky's touch turned her on, his hands and his lips; regardless if his actions was someone else's.

This is wrong.

This has to stop.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

"I can't touch you here?" He murmured softly as he pressed harder. Even with the barrier of the cotton panties, she was so sensitive to his touch; he loves that about her.

"N-no. You can't." She choked back a moan as she replied.

God, what if he doesn't care?

What if he'll get mad and force it on her?

She can't imagine the guilt Bucky had to experience if the soldat take her right now. And all because her stupid little brain cannot comprehend a plan to stop him, all because she let the soldat touch her as freely, as willingly.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

Much to his deperateness, the soldat pulled her away and watched as her tears spilled out, "Oh darling, don't cry." He leaned in and kiss the corners of her eyes, murmuring his words of comfort, "I hate to see you cry, мое cолнышко (my sunshine)." His metal hand slithered to her back and his palm stroked her lovingly.

"Okay, okay. I won't touch your sweet princess part, okay?" He patted her pussy one last time before reaching to swipe her tears away. "I promise." He whispered.

As much as he wanted to fuck her stupid, fill her hole full with his load; however the soldat does hold her very dear to his heart and hates to see her sad.

"Just let me hold you close, darling?" He cooed as he kissed the edge of her lips.

Y/N didn't know why but she trusted his words. Maybe it was because he was so gentle with her, that she was tricked into believing him.

She watched the soldat waited patiently for her response and when she nodded softly, he swiftly lifted her in his arms and lay her down on the bed.

He tucked himself in under the sheets with her and naturally rested his face on her chest. His fleshed arms wrapped securely around her waist and his metal one around her thighs, as he pulled her closer; almost suffocating himself in between her warm breasts.

It was like an instinct for Y/N to encircle her arms around his neck while her hands run through the thick of his hair, absentmindedly playing with the softness of it.

She almost giggle when the soldat let out a deep-throated sound of relieved sighs as she continued to massage his scalp.

As the soldat started to sail deeper into dreamland, Y/N thought that maybe this will be the only and the last time she had the chance to hold Bucky like this and she knew it was wrong to feel grateful to the soldat because had done nothing but terrible, despicable things in the past.

But when she thought about it, none of those sins was his choice to make. He was created to kill and nothing else.

But what if he had something to hold on to?

A hope to look forward to?

A person to protect?

Or a home to go back to?

Would he still be the same monster he had been before?

She have not a slightest clue.

But, what she does know that this soldat who's clinging in her arms, deserves something kind.

And she hoped that she managed to give him a sense of peace for once in his life.

Y/N nuzzled to the side of his tired-looking face and placed a sweet kiss on his temple as she whispered ever-so-softly, "Welcome home, soldat."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: This is possibly part 1? I'm not sure either. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! And reblogs is much appreciated!

#winterarmyyfics #welcome home soldat au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier × reader #winter soldier x you #winter soldier!bucky #bucky fluff

[primofate]

You are the embodiment of fairness...

is what Neuvillette believes. There is not a single hair on your body that is selfish. Not a single thought in your mind that strays into evil thoughts.

The Chief Justice is just as fair, just as sensible. Though on you, he stays his gaze for a moment longer. Allows the slightest tug upward of his lips as you discuss the latest trial with him. The difference between the two of you? He doesn't think that he is as "well-behaved" as you are. There have definitely been times where he had thought to abandon his gentlemanly and prestigious image, just to lean in and brush his fingers on your cheek. Thankfully, so far, he hasn't done so, even though the two of you had decided to enter a romantic relationship.

The Chief Justice was very guarded, but so were you. The two of you were never seen together, only in the privacy of his home or yours did the two of you enjoy each other's company. Perhaps only his most trusted Melusines knew. Professionalism was important.

"I hope the next trial resolves to your liking, Neuvillette," you smile knowing what his answer would be.

"It isn't my thoughts that are important, Y/N-" he starts and he finishes his sentence at the same time as you chide in with him.

"It's the evidence. I know, I know,"

You bid him goodbye rather curtly, not even a kiss, just a brief pat on the arm. It's working hours, and it's not the time to do such a thing.

Working hours.

As the Chief Justice sat in court, trial in session, he locks eyes with you, the accused. He recognizes the confusion in your eyes as genuine, the hidden panic behind clear as day.

"Neuvil--Your honour," You catch yourself, voice trembling a little. "This is a mistake, it wasn't me,"

and yet all the evidence points to you. Photographs, witness accounts, the hat that you'd left behind in the crime scene. No matter which way you look, the answer was you.

"Guilty," was all he could muster, when he usually said more. His hand looked for the oratrice, hoping that the machine would give him something different, but he already knew it in his heart.

"According to the judgement of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale, the accused, L/N Y/N is..."

One second.

Two.

Three seconds.

Four.

The crowd started to bristle a little.

At five he opened his mouth, and closed it again, gritting his teeth in secret.

At six, he repeated his own words. "Guilty,"

Cheers erupted from the audience, he could not bring himself to look at your face, though he heard you loud and clear.

"No! NO! This is a mistake! I didn't kill anyone!" Your hysterics were comparable to a mother who had lost her child. To a hardworking man watching his hard earned house burn down.

"NEUVILLETTE PLEASE!"

The Gardes struggled, just as they always did, but you pushed forward, unable to understand nor accept what happened. At that moment you had not noticed the tears of desperation running down your cheeks.

You were going to that underwater prison forever. Dark and alone. What if the sea swallowed you? Or worse, what if the silence swallowed you? All by yourself hundreds of feet below, drowning was such an easy possibility.

Neuvillette almost grimaces, but keeps his face hard as stone. There are a thousand things running in his mind...but the Oratrice was absolute, and so was its verdict.

"Bring the accused to The Fortress of Meropide,"

The wails you let out haunted him, more than any other trial had.

Author's Note: Hello! This is just a quick update, literally wrote it in 30 minutes so excuse any pronoun slips or mistakes! I just wanted to let everyone know I am great and still playing Genshin! Just a quick reminder that The Ruthless Prince is still available on Amazon in paperback and all my previous works are still accessible in my Masterlist!

Do let me know what you think of this one though, and if you think I should turn it into a full fic!

#genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette brainrot

[mieluscious]

keep touching. zayne

ෆ pairings : zayne x female reader

ෆ genre : smut, pwp

ෆ word count : 2k6

ෆ warnings : mdni. switch!zayne, switch!reader, fluff, teasing, fingering, biting, mark kink, unprotected sex, handjob, rough sex, slight spanking, oral sex (m. received), wall sex, squirting, zayne is full of surprises (hihihi), they are both so whipped for each other . . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

you were showering, humming under the hot water, when you felt two hands slide over your hips behind you. you smiled as you felt zayne rest his forehead against your shoulder. 

"you're up early today." he nodded and kissed the skin below your ear, making you blush.

"i have to go to the hospital i've been called to pick up some files." he yawned against your neck and you ran a hand through his hair, gently stroking his head. 

"you're doing a great job, baby." you tilted your head to the side when you felt his breath against your ear. his hands went up to your belly, which he rubbed with the soap that was on your body. "you're a good doctor." he smiled lightly against your ear and you turned around to face him.

"i'm still a bit sleepy." you placed your hand on his cheek and he leaned his face towards yours, zayne was so much taller than you if anyone witnessed the scene they wouldn't even be able to guess that you were hidden against his chest. 

"yeah, i can see that in your pretty eyes." you flushed when you felt the tip of his nose touch yours, his eyes never letting you out of his sight. zayne loved seeing you blush it made you look so cute and there was nothing that could make him happier. both of his hands gently grasped your face and you squealed softly as you felt his thumbs caress your rosy cheeks.

"cute." zayne's face was hardly expressive to most of the people, but you knew exactly what he was thinking behind that wall of ice. his fingers slid to your red ears, which he pinched, making you mewl.

"d-don't tease." his eyes fell back into yours, which were slightly glassy. "you have to go to work." you placed your hand on his chest and grabbed a bottle of shower gel with the other, pouring a small amount in your palm as he continued to play with your sensitive ears without saying anything. you slid your soap-filled palms against his stomach and rubbed gently.

"are you trying to get rid of me?" you mewled louder, catching his waist as you felt the tips of his thumbnails dig into the skin of your ears. you pressed your breasts against his chest and opened your mouth to try to speak when he took the opportunity to lick your lips, looking straight into your eyes.

you pouted and an idea crossed your mind, wanting revenge you slid your hands up his chest and pinched his nipples. you smiled when you noticed a sparkle in his cold eyes, his lips spread and an evil little chuckle escaped your pretty lips.

"i saw you flinch." you lifted your chin proudly under his watchful gaze and pinched his buds again, but this time you were the one who gasped when he suddenly pressed you against the cold shower wall.

"z-zay-" you watched him place his forearms on either side of your head against the wall while his forehead rested against yours, his cold eyes met your glassy ones once again. 

"keep touching them." your lips parted to let out a moan as you felt something hard against your belly, but you didn't look down, knowing full well what it was. zayne's gaze was almost pleading, and the desire to please him slowly overcame you. your pretty hands suddenly grasped his pecs, making him gasp softly as your thumbs squeezed his buds in a rotating motion. 

“does it feel good ?” a groan escaped his lips as you brought two of your fingers to your lips, sucking them under his burning gaze. a stream of drool connected between your lips and fingers as you removed them from your mouth and pressed them back on his swollen nipple before grinding your belly against his, giving his cock a rub. zayne suddenly  thrust against you making himself moan louder above your ear.

“fucking good.” you smiled as you leaned your head back against the wall, zayne was definitely not the type to swear and it was when naughty words came out from between his pretty lips that you could tell he was really enjoying what you were doing to him. 

you pinched his swollen nipples harder and he pressed his forehead to yours again, panting loudly against your glossy lips. a little "fuck" echoed against the damp bathroom walls and his veiny hand grabbed the underside of one of your thighs pulling it up against his hip, you groaned and caught his bottom lip between your teeth as you felt the tip of his cock slap against your clit. his other hand slid down your back and grabbed your ass before slapping it. zayne looked down on you with a smirk.

“don’t get too naughty.” zayne was so excited he could barely keep his eyes open and his half open mouth made you want to bite it until it bled. he was so fucking hot it was driving you crazy. 

you felt the tip of his cock slide into your entrance and you slapped his chest rubbing his bud reddened and swollen by your caresses. zayne threw his head back and a guttural groan escaped his lips, which he bit down on in embarrassment. your eyes slowly widened in disbelief, you'd never seen zayne in such a state, and it was the first time you'd heard him moan like that. your wetness ran down his cock, seeing him so submissive turned you on so much that you didn't want him to go to work anymore, you wanted to push him over the edge even more. you wanted to see more.

“i’m sorry.” his voice was just a poor sigh, you could feel that he was about to explode even though you hadn't done anything yet. he bent his head into your neck and rested his forehead against your shoulder. “i don't know what's happening to me.” you slid your hand up his neck and gently caressed his skin with your thumb. you brought your lips to his ear, which flushed as your warm breath fell on it.

“don’t be sorry, baby.” you slid your tongue against his ear and he suddenly pushed his hips against yours, thrusting his tip a little further into you, making you both moan. “let me take care of you. what do you want ?” zayne grunted louder as he felt your other hand slide down his torso until it reached his cock, which you grasped firmly. “you wanna fuck ?” he straightened his face and pushed you further against the wall, his hands grabbing your ass which he clasped tightly between his veiny hands. his nose touched yours, and his lips caressed yours.

“i want you to ruin me.” his words were so naughty and yet his gaze was so serious and cold. zayne was definitely a man full of surprises. “make me scream.” an evil smile played on your lips. “mark me, make sure everyone knows i belong to you.” you started jerking his cock gently under his envious eyes, the tip still inside you. he was panting against your lips, moving his hips in time with your hand. the tip of his tongue caressed your upper lip and you just couldn't take your eyes off each other. seeing him take so much pleasure for so little made you obsess over his every reaction. and it's when you start jerking him off harder that a growl comes out from deep in his throat. he threw back his head and his cold eyes met yours again. his lips spread wider at the pressure of your hand on his length. he was a panting mess. “fuuuck. yes faster- blow me away.” 

it was too much to handle, you couldn’t contain the urge to ruin him. you suddenly let go of his cock and pushed him making him back off, a deep moan escaping from between his lips as he felt his back slam heavily against the cold wall opposite you. you fell to your knees in front of him and grabbed his cock again before slapping the tip several times on your tongue, a growl escaped his lips and his teeth caught his bottom lip at sight of you being so wild for him.

you gobbled one of his balls and began to lick up its length before spitting on the tip of his cock. letting your drool run down to his balls. zayne slid his hand through your wet hair and you slapped the tip of his cock on your tongue again just to hear him moan even louder under your dark gaze. you caught his tip between your lips and sucked hard, sliding your hands over his lower stomach. you almost smiled as you felt him tremble under your fingers, one of your hands slipped over his hip while the other went up to his right nipple, which you pinched hard, making him hiss and thrust his cock deeper into your mouth, almost choking you on it. zayne grabbed your wrist to hold it in place against his chest as he rocked his hips forward watching your pretty lips close around him with each thrust. 

“so good. so fucking good. take it please.” zayne became more and more vulgar each time he was close to cumming. you pushed his hip against the wall and suddenly engulfed his cock deep in your throat, your nose touching his pelvis. zayne threw his head back against the wall and pushed harder into your mouth as you choked on his cock. he was a moaning mess, the wet sucking noises bouncing against the walls turned him on even more, and hearing him scream his pleasure drove you just as crazy. you massaged his nipple harder and his grip on your hair tightened. “fuck. stop i’m gonna-” you grabbed his hip firmly and started bobbing your head along his veiny fat cock. he was so close and his groans that echoed in your ear changed into whines of desperation. 

you were sucking loudly on his tip when you raised your face to his, his cock slid from between your lips and your chin. you began to kiss his length under his feverish gaze and slapped his sensitive member against his stomach staining his skin with his own cum. your hand slipped from his hip to grab his length which you stroke slowly before licking his own cum off his abs. his cold eyes fell on your cum-covered tongue.

“does it feel good zayne ? wanna cum in my mouth ?” a grunt escaped him as his eyes then fell on your throat, which swallowed his juice. you were literally drooling over his cock, a mixture of saliva and his precum running down your chin. you were so dirty to him, just to him, and it drove him crazy. 

“stop looking at me like that. you'll be the death of me.” zayne suddenly grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you upright in front of him, bringing your face close to his and catching your mouth with his own, tasting himself on your lips. you wrapped your arms around his neck as his lips sucked at your tongue before you sloppily twirled it around against his. you moaned into his mouth as you felt him grab your ass before lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his hips. zayne sucked your bottom lip before letting go in a loud "pop". “i’m gonna cum in this wet fucking pussy.” you mewled louder as you heard him swear, coming from him it excited you so much, he was usually so serious and calm and seeing him lose control made you wetter than you already were. he suddenly pinned you against the wall and shoved his cock inside you without warning causing you to throw your head back with loud moans. the pornographic sound of heated flesh echoed upon the bathroom, and you closed your eyes in bliss savoring the warmth of his length as he was rocking inside you like an animal. 

“f-fuck…zayne..so good-” you let out a high pitched whine as you felt yourself already on edge. your pussy clenching as it gushed around is cock, coating his thighs in your wetness. one of his hands left your ass to grab your throat and your hands grabbed his hair hard as you shook like a leaf against him. “y-you’re too fucking good with your d-dick fuck-” zayne's cold gaze locked with yours and you could feel that his energy was different from before, he'd had enough of being submissive, he'd taken back control and was going to show you how it's done. his thumb slipped into your mouth and the sensation of your wet tongue on his thumb made him grunt louder. his thumb slipped over one of your canines and you smiled arrogantly as his mouth parted wider. a sparkle flickered in his eyes at the sight of your smile and his grip on your throat tightened.

“i married such a naughty woman.” you tightened your walls around his cock making him thrust harder inside you. his pelvis pressed against yours, pushing you more against the wall, he grabbed the underside of your thigh and lifted it against your chest, opening you up a little more for him. his forehead pressed against yours and his sharp eyes never left your glassy ones. “such a wicked little woman who likes to torture me.” you let out a cracked moan as his thrusts became sloppy, his balls slapping loudly against your ass. your mouth opened wider as he brought his face close to yours, his tongue licked your lips and you mewled lewdly as his hand left your throat to grab your sensitive ear.

“n-no…not my-” you startled when he pinched it hard, making you cry out against his lips. zayne's cold eyes roamed over your face, savoring your facial expression. little tears rolled down your pretty cheeks as his cock were bullying your tight pussy and he couldn't stop himself from fucking you harder when he saw your desperate look and your pretty lips begging him to kiss them. “m-mean-” your stomach tightening as his cock kept hitting your sensitive spot. “c-cumming..z-zayne so good-” a stream of yes’s escaped from your glossy lips  as he suddenly lifted your ass with both hands before thrusting roughly into you, his balls slapping against your cheeks louder than before. zayne was panting so fucking loudly against your lips and you couldn't hold on any longer you screamed as you came around his cock, squirting all over him and on the floor. 

“yes just like that, cum for me. fuck-” he threw his head back as you plunged your face against his neck before sinking your sharp teeth into his tender skin, marking him as yours. “argh yes keep biting me. let me breed this pussy-” he thrust hard one last time before moaning almost desperately as he spilled thick ropes of cum inside you painting your gummy walls like you love. 

only your loud breathing could be heard in the room, and you smiled as you slid your hands up his torso, pressing your back against the wall, admiring the marks of your teeth on his neck. zayne remained silent, still trying to catch his breath after his orgasm, his eyes still locked in yours. you tilted your head to one side, biting your lower lip. 

“you're so pretty with my mark on you. can’t wait for your coworkers to see it.” a smile played on his lips. 

you were such a little demon.

© 𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 ! 𝙢𝙙𝙣𝙞 — 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ☆⌒(>。<)

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love & deepspace #zayne x reader #love and deep space #love and deepspace x reader #love and deep space x reader #love and deep space x you #love and deepspace smut #anime smut #smut #zayne x you #zayne x mc #zayne x y/n #love and deepspace x y/n #xavier love and deep space #rafayel love and deepspace #one shot

[teamatsumu]

do you? i do. (akaashi keiji x reader)

summary: you lose a bet, so now you have to confess to your crush. for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions.

word count: 1461

tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties @pinkiipeachiikeen @keiva1000 @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @kindnessspreads

event masterlist

Turns out, promising to do ‘anything you want’ wasn’t something Konoha Akinori took lightly. Especially not when you add Bokuto Koutaro to the mix. Konoha was a sly opportunist, while Bokuto wasn’t embarrassed by anything, so it was a deadly combination.

You didn’t know why you let yourself be talked into making a stupid, silly bet with the two boys. Konoha had a talent to goad, and he managed to successfully goad you. So when you lost the bet (really, why did you think having a physical competition with two volleyball players was a good idea), it was like Konoha had his winning prize ready. The request fell from his lips like he had been practicing it for days.

Which he probably had. The menace.

So here you were, hands shaking violently as you put away water bottles and towels, cleaning up the club room and taking all the time in the world to change back into your uniform. The other managers had offered to wait for you so you could walk home together, but you encouraged them to go on, saying you had some stuff to organize before you left so it would take time. You didn’t need them to stick around to see you horrifically embarrass yourself when you confessed your silly crush and got rejected. Already Konoha was making all the boys stay behind to witness the moment. You couldn’t bear to have your closest friends see it too.

You locked the club room behind yourself before slowly and painfully making your way to the gym. You could hear the thuds of volleyballs and squeaks of shoes as the boys noisily cleaned up. They were talking and laughing amongst themselves, and you felt your nerves tighten even more. This was the worst possible place and time to confess. The chances of public humiliation were sky high. But Konoha had made his demands clear. And you weren’t one to go back on your word, no matter how dire the consequences.

You smoothed your skirt when you reached the gym doors, standing in the doorway and watching the scene before you. Despite the net slowly being lowered, Bokuto was still bounding towards it.

“Akaashi, go again!”

The boy in question was already in position, setting the ball high towards Bokuto, who spiked it hard over the half-up net. Washio was yelling at them to stop and it was enough for the day.

You watched Akaashi wipe the sweat off his forehead and kneel to tie his shoe, breathing slightly labored from the exertion. Your feet remained frozen, eyeing him silently and dreading how your relationship with him was about to change forever. While Akaashi wasn’t someone who harbored ill feelings, you weren’t sure how he was going to react to a love confession and subsequent rejection. What guarantee did you have that this wouldn’t affect your friendship going forward?

“Oi, look who’s here!” Konoha’s voice was filled with glee, and all eyes turned to look at you when he pointed at the door. You fought the urge to roll your eyes and deck him across the face. Violence was not the answer.

“Do you have something to say?”

Okay, maybe violence was the answer.

You gave him a large, fake grin, before nodding jerkily. You could feel the edge of your face and your ears turn burning hot, hands already going clammy as you tried to clench and unclench them.

“Akaashi-san, may I talk to you in private?”

Akaashi seemed surprised, blinking twice before nodding and standing up to walk towards you. No one else was caught off guard, of course, grinning faces looking between you two, knowing what was about to happen. You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you wouldn’t have to do this in front of the entire volleyball team. But a bet was a bet. You had brought this upon yourself.

Whenever you had lain in bed and fantasized about confessing to Akaashi, you had pictured just you and him. Either outside the gym, or in the school grounds, nice cool air blowing through your clothes and hair. You had imagined how he would smile and return your feelings, which was a long shot but anything was possible in your imagination.

Akaashi was…. dignified. Organized. He was crazy smart, perceptive to a fault. It was almost impossible to not like him. Two years since you had started managing the Fukurodani team, and your crush on him had only grown. The more you learned about him, the more you liked him. And he was leagues above you in every sense.

That was the reason you had always believed Akaashi couldn’t return your feelings.

He stepped out behind you, following you only a few steps away from the gym doors. Konoha had explicitly said that you had to stay within earshot. A childish, immature request but part of the bet reward, so you couldn’t exactly refuse. You turned back to the boy, unable to meet his eyes and instead staring at your own hands as you fiddled with your fingers. You had rehearsed in your head over and over how you would take Akaashi’s rejection, what you would say, how would you tell him it wasn’t a big deal and you didn’t expect him to return your feelings. That you hoped you could still be friends. But now, standing before him, you realized you hadn’t really thought about the actual confession. You were completely blank.

“Is everything okay?” Akaashi’s voice was laced with concern, and he tilted his head a bit to catch your eye. You stared at him for a good minute before blinking and vigorously nodding.

“Yes! Completely fine. I’m fine.”

Embarrassment was already beginning to crawl up on you. There was a bout of silence. Behind Akaashi, you caught sight of multiple heads peeking through the window. You felt annoyance build up in you.

“Screw this,” you mumbled. “Akaashi-san, I like you. A lot. Not as a friend. And I was never going to tell you, but I lost a bet to Konoha and he thought this would be the perfect way to humiliate me. By making me confess. So….. here I am. I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

Akaashi watched you unblinkingly for a few moments. You glanced at Konoha who was scowling, probably because you name dropped him. But that wasn’t one of his conditions, so you didn’t care. You felt a twinge of satisfaction at having bested him even in your current circumstance. Good. He deserved to feel even a fraction of the anxiety and embarrassment you were feeling right now.

“Why would that humiliate you?” Akaashi finally spoke.

Your eyes met his dark ones, and you felt yourself freeze. Of all the questions you thought he would ask, this was not one you were prepared for.

“Uh-” You tried to come up with an answer that didn’t sound equally as embarrassing as the confession. Because you will reject me and they will all witness it?

Akaashi sighed and toed at the ground a bit, mouth pursed in thought. You stared at him wide eyed, waiting for him to speak. To say something. Follow up on his unusual question.

“This isn’t exactly how I imagined this moment to go.” He muttered, and you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t already looking at him. Your breath hitched, eyes so wide you were sure they would pop out of your skull. You tried to process the sentence, tried to think of any reason he would say that without getting your hopes up.

Akaashi peered around, as if searching for something, looking left and right before he finally caught the floating heads behind him. There was a yelp as they disappeared from the window suddenly, followed by thudding and a curse. You bit back your laughter. Akaashi rolled his eyes.

“I would like to talk about this more. Where others can’t see us.” His voice was as calm and quiet as ever. You felt your heart race. Your limbs felt jittery. Did this mean….?

“Akaashi-san, do you-”

A smile that made your heart leap. “I do.”

You felt a smile stretch over your face, feeling giddy at the thought of something you had considered so impossible materializing in front of your very eyes. You could still hear faint bickering from the gym, and you were sure Konoha had not seen this coming. Somehow, he was the least of your concerns now, in the face of Akaashi’s quiet smile and the way he was leaning towards you. You leaned forward too, realizing you had never been this close to him before. You basked in the moment.

In ten million years you could not have wished for a better outcome.

#akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji fluff #akaashi fluff #akaashi keiji x you #akaashi keiji x y/n #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

[huggingkoalas]

ride me it

pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader

synopsis riding a motorcycle should be similar to riding her face, right?

word count 1.8k

warnings smut, use of vibrators (using a literal motorcycle), mentions of ‘exhibitionist’ kink, mentions/use of ‘mommy’ kink, pet names, teasing, cursing, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha

author’s note am i going absolutely feral over nat's motorcycle scenes in age of ultron and black widow? yessir :P + this fic is inspired by this tiktok edit of nat too <3

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“Will you teach me how to ride, Nat?” You asked, stopping your gentle scratches on her scalp.

Natasha, lying on the bed with her head on your lap, turned her attention from the movie playing on the television to you. Amused, she raised her eyebrows, her infamous smirk on her lips. “Are you talking about my face?”

You slapped her hard on the arm and shook your head in amusement. “I meant the motorcycle, you weirdo.” 

“Ouch, that hurts.” Natasha hissed with a pout on her face. 

Both you and Natasha knew she could handle physical pain since she was literally the Black Widow. Even if she didn’t have superpowers like Thor and the Hulk, she was still one of the most powerful women in the world. Fighting the desire to roll your eyes, you played along with her antics. You rubbed her arm, eyes twinkling in faux pity while mouthing ‘sorry’. 

“I read the mission reports everyone sent from the Ultron Offensive mission. I had no idea you knew how to ride a motorcycle.” You remarked, continuing your featherlight strokes along her hair. You wish you were there that day. If you witnessed Natasha riding a motorcycle, skillfully navigating through traffic and avoiding danger, you’d be drooling right away.

“I guess it just never came up. I wouldn’t mind teaching you, though. It would be hot if you rode something other than my face.” Natasha teased.

“Nat!” Your cheeks turned bright red from her comment. “I-I mean, you’ll have to teach me the basics first, though. I don’t think I’m ready to drive one yet.”

The thought of driving a fast vehicle sent shivers down your spine. Despite feeling scared, you wanted to impress your girlfriend. Maybe if you tried something dangerous, like learning how to ride a motorcycle, she wouldn’t keep calling you a scaredy cat.

“I can teach you the basics now.” She replied, removing her head from your lap and sitting up.

“N-Now? You sure?” You hesitated. “I mean, sure, yeah, okay.”

You didn’t think she’d teach you how to ride a motorcycle now, but you weren’t complaining. Natasha intertwined your fingers with yours, dragging you to the garage quickly. 

You could see the excitement in her eyes as she led you to the garage. The green in her eyes was brighter than usual, and you couldn’t help an endearing smile appearing on your face. Seeing this side of her made your heart melt. Sometimes, she reminded you of a puppy.

Your eyes adjusted to the amount of sunlight flittering through the ceiling-to-floor windows once you reached the garage. It was your first time here, and the spaciousness of the area amazed you. Numerous cars, including SUVs and Humvees, were lined neatly side-by-side. Your gaze immediately spotted the familiar black and red motorcycle you had read in her mission report.

“What’s its model again?” You asked, walking to the motorcycle and running your fingertips along the tank cover before resting your palm on the leather seat.

“It’s a Harley-Davidson LiveWire.” Natasha walked up behind you, resting her hands on your hips. “It’s brand new. The motorcycle from the mission got totalled, so Fury and Stark had to buy me another one.”

“Yeah, I know. I had to deal with financial reports afterwards. It’s... really expensive.” You turned your head to look up at her, leaning up to kiss the tip of her nose. “Only the best motorcycle for the best woman in the world.”

“Enough compliments or I’m bringing you to my room and showing you how much you’re the best woman all night.” Natasha husked, her teeth tugging at your earlobe. Her hot breath whispered in your ear, making you weak to your knees.

She released herself from behind you, her famous smirk on her face as she noticed your flustered state. “Alright, get on the motorcycle.” She said, her voice an octave lower than usual. You looked at Natasha, and she was looking at you with darkened eyes. 

You both knew what that tone meant. It was the tone she would use on you when you were writhing on her sheets, moaning her name over and over again as she brought you to multiple orgasms. Both of you knew what the tone did to you. You’d willingly get on your knees and do anything she asked if she used that sultry voice again.

Clearing your throat to brush your mind off the filthy thoughts your brain had come up with, you inquired. “Won’t it tip over if I get on it?”

Natasha lets out a short laugh as you shoot her a nervous look. There’s a mixture of amusement and something else entirely in her green eyes. You're not sure. She’s making you even more nervous than you already are.

“See that little stick on the side propping up the bike?” With a nod of your head, she points to the black pedal holding the vehicle up. “That’s a kickstand. The bike doesn’t magically defy gravity, and it certainly doesn’t fly.”

You wanted to wipe the smug grin off Natasha’s face. Normally you’d make a snarky remark now, but instead, you let her off with a shrug.

“I promise to catch you if, for some reason, the kickstand doesn’t do its job, detka (baby).” The use of the pet name relaxes you a bit, and you nod your head.

“Fine, I trust you. Is there... A specific way to get on it?” You asked.

“Just mount it, lyubov’ (love). It’s the same as riding on my face.” Natasha replied in a teasing tone. Your head snaps towards her, and your cheeks warm. Her arms are crossed, and her biceps are clearly visible as she wears a black sleeveless sweater. You know you won’t survive the rest of the lesson if she acts (and looks) like this.

You grab the handles and slowly swing one leg over the seat. Your feet barely touch the ground, and you’re tiptoeing while sitting on the vehicle. 

“I think the motorcycle is too tall for me.” You looked at her with a frown.

Natasha expertly climbs onto the bike behind you. “Shortie.” She taunts.

“Careful!” You exclaimed, holding onto the handlebars as the bike tilted left and right due to her movement.

You shift in your seat, getting used to the weird position. The motorcycle seemed larger between your thighs. Furthermore, there were a bunch of pedals, levers, and buttons. You were familiar with what the side mirrors do, but you were not sure what everything else does.

Your heart pounded in your ears. The seat slope caused Natasha's body to press up against you. You shudder slightly as you feel her breasts press up against your back. You tried to make yourself comfortable, but her breath against the back of your neck sent a small shiver down to your core. 

“You’re so tense, detka (baby). Do I make you nervous?” She rests her chin on your shoulder, her hands running down your arms to take your hand in hers while you hold the handlebar.

“You’re sleeping on the couch if you don’t shut up right now, Nat.” You replied, gritting your teeth. As much as you liked her relentless teasing, the heightened adrenaline and fear in your body spiked your anxiousness.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry, lyubov’ (love). Let’s start the lesson then.” Natasha said, turning her attention back to the task at hand. 

She turned the key in the ignition on. The rumbling of the motor startled you as the engine started to thrum softly beneath you.

“I’ll put it on neutral since you’re not driving.” She added.

You nodded your head. You had a license to drive a car, so you knew some driving language. But even though you had experience driving a car, you knew that riding a motorcycle was something completely different. You could feel your heart racing and your grip on the handlebars trembling slightly.

“The lever above the left handle is the clutch lever. The one on the right is the lever for the front brake.” Natasha continued, showing and explaining the parts and their functions.

You couldn't concentrate. The vibration of the engine below you and the slight vibration of the seat had your attention instead. You pursed your lips and nodded as you pretended to understand what she was teaching you.

Closing your eyes for a moment, your breath caught in your throat as Natasha’s lips touch the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Are you listening to me?” She murmured against your skin.

You pursed your lips and speak shakily. “Y-Yes.”

Natasha smirked as she watched your face, she could clearly see that your mind was somewhere else entirely, exactly where she wanted it to be. “I can make you feel even better...”

“This is the throttle handle that gasses the motor.“ She taps a finger on the right handle. She slowly turns the handle towards you, her wrist applying pressure, and the engine revs louder.

“Shit, Nat-” You gasp out loud, the vibrations beneath you getting stronger the more she turns the handle. You feel even more wetness gathering in your panties.

“Nat,” You whimpered with desperation. “Please, I..I-”

You arch your body against her and throw your head back against her shoulder, enjoying the vibrations from the seat. Natasha almost moans at the sight of you aching for her. She gently pulls your shirt off, throwing it behind her. The cold air sends goosebumps down your arm and her left hand rests on your thigh, squeezing and kneading your clothed thigh.

“Shh... Quiet. You don’t want someone to walk on us like this, do you?” She warns you.

Your lungs are struggling for air as you gasp. Shame and desire course through your veins at the thought of someone catching the both of you in this position. You bite your bottom lip, biting it hard you think it might bleed. 

“Want me to go faster?” She asks in a sultry voice. Without waiting for your response, she twists the handle down quickly, the seat pulsating quickly and louder.

Your torso jolts forward and you can’t stop the moan that leaves the back of your throat. Your panties and pants are sticking to you uncomfortably as the leather seat vibrates harshly against your folds. You’re rutting down onto the seat desperately, aching for release. 

“I-I’m close, Nat, don’t stop, please-” You somehow manage to plead through the haze.

You moan loudly as she revs the engine loudly once more, and you scream ‘mommy’ as you orgasm, stars blinding your eyes as your body shakes with bliss. Your arousal sticks to your thighs and pools onto the leather seat below you as you come down from your high.

Natasha switches off the ignition once you finish tumbling over the edge. The vibration and the sounds from the motorcycle quiet down, and all you can hear is your increased heartbeat and the silence of the garage. You feel your legs and body twitch slightly from the orgasm. 

You turned your head towards her, seeing a shit-eating grin on her face. “Wow, ‘Mommy’, huh? That’s a first.” She teased, licking her lips. “I’ll have so much fun cleaning the bike later.”

You groaned, hiding your face in her neck. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” 

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#lumi’s fics! #marvel #mcu #the avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #smut #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction

[lovedazai]

ENDING SCENE . . . dazai doesn’t know how to handle it when you get injured on a mission.

ft. dazai + f!reader, ada!reader, desc of blood & injuries, refs to dazai’s past, hurt/comfort (literally), angst w a happy ending, 2.0k w.c.

the only thing rarer than a night when dazai sleeps is a night when dazai dreams. 

his mind taunts him, conjuring scenarios of you making a wrong move. his fingertips reach out to grab you, always just a little too far away, or he doesn’t notice the gleam of a sniper until it’s too late. his job history only makes the visions all the more real. 

he’s been on the wrong end of a gun too many times to count, pulled the trigger himself even more, but seeing you with a barrel to your head is so irrevocably wrong, it always wakes him up with a racing heart unable to be slowed down by his usual tricks. he holds you as close as he can, until there’s no space left between your body and his; you’re real and you’re here, but it’s all just a reminder that sooner or later, you won’t be.

for the first time ever, dazai is in love, and that was an open invitation for the universe to rip you away from his grasp.

you never complain about the way he clings to you after. you let him lay against your chest and listen to the steady beat of your heart, waiting for his to fall into sync with it. your fingertips drag along his scalp and down his nape, grounding him back to earth with your touch. you whisper words so sweet he can taste them on his lips when he kisses you, and his heart races for an entirely different reason.

but then, it happens.

one, apparently deadly, miscalculation and now you’re bleeding out on his lap in the backseat of one of the agency’s cars. he wants so badly to think this is another one of his mind’s sick, twisted jokes, but the scent of your blood is all too potent to be anything but real.

today was supposed to be an easy day. your only assignment wasn’t even a full-fledged mission, just gathering information from witnesses about a recent burglary. the culprit had a concealed weapon, shooting you haphazardly in a panic before even dazai could realize what was happening. the bullet hit your abdomen, fraying your clothing, your blood soaking your shirt and leaking down your waist. you’re applying as much pressure as you possibly can with your waning strength, but red still oozes between the gaps of your fingers. he keeps a grip on your other wrist, rubbing his thumb over your weakening pulse.

“we’re almost there. only two more blocks away,” kunikida says, glancing at you through the rearview mirror from the driver’s seat, his brows pinched behind the lenses of his glasses. 

that’ll be enough time; you’ll be okay. dazai lets the smallest of relieved smiles show on his face, but it fades as quickly as it came when he looks back down at you and sees your eyes are closed.

his voice is firm when he calls your name, cradling the side of your face and tapping his thumb against your cheek. “open your eyes.”

you do, barely. your eyelids are heavy, and only open just enough for your unfocused gaze to stay on him.

“there you are,” he strokes his thumb along the curve of your cheekbone. “we’re almost at the agency. just hold on a little longer for me.”

“‘samu,” he never wants to hear you say his name like that again. it sounds broken. “it hurts.”

“i know,” he whispers. his palm is clammy as it smoothes down your hair, pulling back the strands sticking to your forehead with sweat. “but you’re so brave. just keep those pretty eyes on me, and everything will be okay.”

the shrill sound of someone’s horn pierces your quiet conversation, muffled through the window as kunikida cuts in front of them. the swerve of the car makes dazai hold you closer to his chest in an attempt to keep your body still.

“‘m sorry,” your voice is so quiet, he almost misses it. “this is all my fault. i should’ve been paying more attention.”

he exhales hard through his nose, trying to control his anger, bubbling and burning beneath his skin. it doesn’t dissipate easily, and he swears if hadn’t promised to become a better man, he would’ve killed that man right there. the sight of you hunched over and bleeding had brought out a side of him that made even kunikida falter when he had tried to approach you, dazai guarding your injured body like an animal.

he tries not to jostle you as kunikida pulls the car in front of the agency’s building. he doesn’t wait for him to fully park before he’s lifting you and carrying you out, the seam of his coat bunched in your hand.

he takes the stairs two at a time, whispering apologies for every pained whine that falls from your lips. by the time he makes it to the fourth floor, your eyes are closed again.

he keeps you close, letting you melt against his chest as he twists the agency’s doorknob open, pressing it forward with his hip. he doesn’t stay long enough to acknowledge the way everyone stops and stares in shock or answer any of their questions about what happened as he hurries to the infirmary.

yosano is already in her office, sitting at her desk with her chin in her hand. her bored gaze lifts from the laptop screen in front of her and widens as she takes in the sight of your limp body in dazai’s arms.

your weak grip on him stays, even as he lays you on the first bed he sees. the crumpled fabric of his coat is tinged red where you cling to him, only tightening when yosano places a hand on your side.

“you should leave for this,” she says, halfway to pulling on a pair of latex gloves. he grounds his feet into the floor stubbornly, watching as she peels your shirt back, lifting away the saturated fabric to inspect your wound. “she’ll be fine. i’ll let you know as soon as i’m done, okay?”

his eyes trail away from your wound, back towards your face. you look just as peaceful as you do when he wakes up next to you every morning, except this time, there’s a hole in your stomach. he strokes your cheek softly, meeting your hazy gaze. he swears he can feel his heart break into two as he pries your hand off his jacket, your fingers far too weak to protest when he loosens them.

“i’ll be back soon,” he whispers, brushing his lips against your knuckles before he places your hand down onto the fitted sheet beneath you. he leaves before he can change his mind, feeling painfully alone when the door closes behind him.

he looks down at himself. your blood covers his hands, seeping into the cracks of his palms and staining the frayed edges of his bandages. it’s the same as that evening four years ago, kneeled on the ballroom floor over his best friend’s dying body. the scene is so sickeningly familiar, it makes him feel dizzy.

he thinks he hears someone call his name from down the hall, or maybe he’s going insane. he feels suffocated, and all he can think about is how badly he wants your blood off him. it’s sticky and warm and everywhere; he thinks if he doesn’t get it out of his sight, he’s going to be sick. he’s uncharacteristically uncoordinated, nearly tripping over his feet to try to get to the bathroom.

he runs the water scalding hot, scrubbing at his hands until they burn and the soap bubbles stain pink as they swirl down the drain. even the smallest of wounds tugged at his heart when it came to you, every scrap on your knee or bruise on your arm churning his stomach. he knew you’d be okay, he was the only one yosano’s ability didn’t work on, after all, but this was too close. he couldn’t lose you, not yet.

who else would ever want to take care of him the way you do, to scold him in that exasperated, loving way? your relationship was a glitch, something so tender and sweet not supposed to belong to someone like him. you were his one and only; there would never be anyone else like you again. he smiles, knowing how much you’d hate that he was thinking like this; he can already imagine the way your lips would feel against his as he’d kiss the frown off of your face, telling you not to worry your pretty little head about him. his fingers tremble as he dries his hands off, skin numb.

his legs are heavy as he walks back down the hallway, forcing his feet to move before stops in front of yosano’s office. he slides his hands in his coat pockets, staring absently at the ground. he can hear the faint ticking of a clock and the muffled voices of his co-workers through the wall behind him where he leans his head back. he inhales deeply, holds it, and exhales it out the way you taught him to, waiting for the invisible weight on his chest to dissipate.

“dazai,” he looks up at the sound of yosano’s voice, meeting her soft, sympathetic gaze as she peeks from behind the infirmary door. “she’s done.”

he’s never moved so fast in his life, ignoring yosano’s grumble when he accidentally knocks her with his shoulder as he passes through the doorway, practically running to get back to your side. he doesn’t miss the gracious way she closes the curtain surrounding your bed, enclosing the two of you in your own fluorescent-lit world.

he breathes your name, dropping to his knees at your bedside, grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with your own. your eyes are still heavy and sleepy after being treated, but that light he loves so much has returned, your pupils shimmering. he wants to bask in it, like a patch of sunlight beckoning a cat into its warmth.

“what were you thinking?” he tries to hide the quiver of his lips with a smile. “you’re not allowed to die without me, remember?”

“osamu,” you brush your fingers over his face before you pinch his cheek softly. “i know you were scared, but it’s okay. i’m okay. i’m still here.”

the same things you whisper between kisses during all those early mornings, holding him close in the comfort of your sheets.

“do you know you’re the only one who can see through me?” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours.

“yeah,” you smile. “but that’s why you love me.”

his lips are desperate when they met yours, soft and demanding as he pries into your mouth with his tongue. he pulls your hand closer, until it rests flat against his chest and you can feel his heart racing beneath your palm. having you this close, it finally feels like he can breathe again. the tip of your nose brushes against his when you pull back.

“lay with me,” he tries to chase your lips when you scoot back, making space for him next to you. “please? you know i always sleep better when i’m with you.”

the bed barely fits the both of you, but it hardly matters when you intertwine your body together with his own. you drape your leg over his, hugging his waist and curling into his side. you kiss his jaw softly before you rest your head against his chest.

he trails his fingers down the curve of your waist, smoothing his hand against your stomach, passing over where your skin is mended like new. you don’t wince in pain like in the car, only a content exhale falling from your lips as you snuggle closer to his chest. he buries his face against the crown of your head, gripping at the soft fabric of the hospital robe yosano put you in.

“we both deserve a nap after today, i think,” you mumble, lashes resting against your cheeks.

he already knows he won’t be able to sleep, maybe not for days, until he has no choice but to crash from exhaustion. he’ll spend his nights watching over you, too scared to close his eyes. he knew you’d be there to take care of him, for now; he’ll let you, greedily, for as long as the universe decides he’s allowed to be happy. besides, you were too pretty not to stare at.

p.s.! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ i wanted to rewrite my first fic for my tumblr anniversary back in december but then i didnt post it until now :( the original

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#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖ #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai fluff #bsd fluff #dazai x you #bsd x you #bsd imagines #dazai imagines