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#i missed the sound of you breathing i made you promise not to die of a fever oh my goddd
churipu · 1 month
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STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing, mentions of death, gojo being sad and angry, 2006 gojo geto shoko.
note. for some reason i feel angsty today and i just saw this prompt on pin, just had to write it lol.
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gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call — your very last call.
"i could've fuckin' saved them, suguru." gojo blankly stared at the ceiling, his head thrown back onto the couch's rest; he was conflicted, he didn't know what to do. it was as if his motoric abilities had just stopped all of a sudden.
"satoru . . ."
"i could've fuckin' saved y/n." the white haired male mumbled out, his face scrunching in frustration.
gojo has dealt with death. a lot. the concept of death isn't a stranger to him anymore, not in this world — and to think that he'd actually be alive to experience deaths of his loved ones, thinking he could have done so much more made him hate himself.
god, gojo hated crying in front of other people. the aura in the room was palpable. nobody spoke —nobody dared to speak— and the only sound resounding was the vague ticking belonging to the clock hanging on the wall.
"i could've fuckin' saved them," the male repeated for the third time, his voice breaking that he had to inhale sharply to stop himself from breaking down right there.
gojo pushed himself up, placing his palms above his eyes, pressing down on them harshly; he lets out a loud sigh, "where the fuck did it all go wrong?"
"y/n was killed in action . . ." god, gojo wanted to rip his hair out when yaga called him in privately to say that. the male had lost count of how many times the statement repeated in his mind.
frankly, it's haunting.
out of all the news he could have received today, he never expected to hear your death lulling into his eardrums. so soon. so many things swirling in his mind all at once that even he, deemed the strongest, felt the sensation of losing. he felt weak.
"hi, 'toru — you're probably busy since my call went straight to voice mail, but 'm just saying . . . i love you, and i miss you. so much." there was a slight pause and your breathing shallowed into the mic, every single detail in your last moments were graved in that file, "'m not sure if . . . i'll be back as soon as i promised, but, i just want you to know that whatever happens. happens."
there was a slight static before your soft voice recoiled back into the mic, "i've never broken any promises to you, but this might be the very first time — and just know that i've never wanted to do this, i fucking hate myself for this," your voice broke slightly, "'m bleeding. a lot. but 'm trying to stop it just like how ieiri taught me. and i think 'm doing shit at it . . . i don't know what happened, and how it happened; but 'm not doing okay."
"i don't want to die, 'toru." you whispered into the mic, hoarse and weak — feeling the life drain out, "i really don't want to die . . . i have so many things i want to do with you, and suguru, and ieiri . . ." you murmur out, inhaling sharply but it all ended up with you coughing out in pain.
"remember that time i said i wanted to open a pet hotel . . ? i don't know if you think i was joking, but i was really serious about opening one," you began to mumble out, all in random directions — none of your words make any sense anymore, and you could barely keep yourself awake.
"i don't want to die, please," you pleaded, desperate for life. no matter what you did at this point — the light inside of you was almost out, and you can't do anything about it, "fuck. i hate this. so much, 'toru."
"i want to see you again. i miss you. i miss you so so much," you softly murmur out, " . . . i love you. i love you so much, satoru."
and everything ended right after. including you.
gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call. your. very. last. call.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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elfven-blog · 10 months
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Closer
Summary: Leon get’s home from a long mission, you take care of him and he wants to be closer to you.
Leon Kennedy x F!Reader [Established relationship]
CW: MDNI, 18+, female anatomy for reader, fingering, p in v, cockwarming. If there’s any I have missed please let me know!
Word count: 2.1k 
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Another night pacing, this one was different to the other nights, those were spent in worry. Drowning in concern for your boyfriend, who was hours, miles, countries apart from you. But not tonight, no tonight he was coming home. Oh, how those words alone made the tension in your shoulders alleviate, oxygen returned to your lungs slowly and the tremor in your hands sped up as you waited. Eyes glancing at the clock, it had barely been five minutes. ‘This was driving me insane’, you thought, ‘surely it wouldn’t take this long’.
You heard the door open, the thud of his work boots hitting the wood of the floor. Relief flooded your body, and you moved subconsciously through the apartment. And there he was, in all his post-work glory…well not glory, for the government and the country maybe. But not for him, no for him it was war. Like a soldier coming back from battle, which he was really. A soldier sent to die for his country, but no one would acknowledge his efforts, not even his government.
At the sound of your feet padding over to him, Leon lifted his head. His eyes were dull, lacking the life that you were used to. He tried to give you a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and suddenly you were engulfed in his arms. Wrapping tightly around you, his head buried in your neck, and he breathed your scent in as deep as he could. Your own hands clutched at his shirt gathering on his waist.
The both of you stayed right there for a little while, enjoying each other’s comfort and finally it felt like the world was right again. It didn’t take long, however, for you to smell him, and God did the stench make you want to puke. You detached yourself from him and smiled as he chased your warmth, your hands moving to hold his. “C’mon baby, let’s get you cleaned up and then you can hold me as close as you want”.
The chuckle that leaves him brings a smile to your own face and you lead him to your shared bathroom, he discards his boots and jacket as he follows you. A mental note to pick them up to return them to their rightful places etches in the back of your mind, and you push open the bathroom door. Leon sighs and runs a hand through his dirtied brown hair, rolling his shoulders as he moved behind you. “As close as I want huh? That better be a promise, doll”.
A hum leaves your lips as you turn the taps and water starts filling the tub. Turning to look at where he’s placed himself near the sink, slowly taking off the ruined shirt and the leather gloves that adorned his hands. He’s not looking at you right now and it gives you the chance to take in his appearance fully. The furrow in his brows has gotten deeper, the bags under his eyes are darker and the tiredness in those blue irises is more prominent than when he left, you decide to add lavender scents in hopes it will help him relax.
Once the tub is full and he’s shed himself of the dirtied clothes, Leon settles himself into the warm water with a groan. You laugh quietly knowing he needed this, he always does after long missions. And with that in mind, you settle behind the tub, kneeling down and raising your sleeves up your arms so they don’t get wet. As he relaxed deeper into the water, you admired the taught muscles along his back, your eyes tracing at the scars...some were new was sad realisation. But you didn’t let this deter you from helping your boyfriend relax farther, hoping to dull the noise in his mind and the flashes of whatever images raced through of the mission he just had.
Your hands moved up behind him, settling onto his shoulders and you felt him tense slightly before you pressed a kiss just behind his ear and he went slack, like putty in your hands. You begin working your hand into his shoulders, helping the knots to loosen. Leon groans as your hands continue their work, his head falling back against your arm as he looks at you with a gaze full of affection and hazed. His mouth was turned up into a small smile as he watched you “I love you” it slipped out so easily, you shook your head.
“I love you too, Leon” your favourite words to hear from him, it was more than just a profession of love, it was often Leons way of promising to be back safe for you. He could never say those exact words, you knew that a hollow promise like that would ruin you if he couldn’t keep it one day. But for now, oh for now he was home. He was whole, he was safe.
You smiled down at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead before pushing him forwards a bit so you could wash his hair. Leon’s eyes close as you do so, and finally he looks like the Leon you know. Peaceful, happy…him.
⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬢⬡⬢⬡⬢⬡
Once Leon had finished his bath and changed, you both settled down on to the sofa in the living room. Leon was keeping to the promise as he sat behind you with his hands roaming over every inch of you. You leant back into his chest, trying to focus on whatever movie was playing on the tv but your mind kept drifting further and further. More interested in the way his hands travelled lightly across your thighs, and up your stomach but stopping just under your breasts.
His head was buried in your neck again, his hot breaths ghosting across your skin as he breathed slowly. That was just as distracting as his hands, and suddenly, you realised that it had been weeks since you last felt him. In many ways, but the feel of his gentle touch and breath suddenly sent jolts of heat down to your core. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, moving your own hand to massage at his thighs as you sat between them.
And of course, he noticed your hand moving immediately, felt your fingers press into his thigh and then he was pressing his lips to your neck. His own core tightening, if you moved back even just slightly you’d feel the hard on he had been sporting since you had settled down to lay on the sofa together. He had been so patient, waiting until his darling wanted him just as badly. But there was a part of him that enjoyed how close you were and instead of going as rough as he normally would. Leon just wanted you closer, impossibly closer.  In a way neither of you had done before.
So, while your hands gripped at his thighs, his moved between yours to place where you needed him most. Leon cupped you there over your shorts, moving his forefinger against the fabric and smirking as he felt your breath hitch. He continued kissing your neck before sucking at the skin and leaving a mark, his tongue soothing over the bruise. Your thighs twitched, head moving to give him more access to your neck as your mouth opened in a silent moan.
It wasn’t long before he decided he wanted more than just the light touches over your clothes, and his hand was moving below the waistline of your shorts. Dipping his fingers between your folds he groaned into your neck at the feeling of your slick covering his finger already “Damn baby, you missed me this much?” your leg moved to dangle over his and off the sofa, giving him more room to circle his finger around the pulsing bundle of nerves before gliding down to your hole.
A breathy moan escaped past your lips as his fingers continued their movements, he had you easily coming undone for him. Your eyes shuttered closed and he finally pressed a finger inside, Leon lifted his head from the crook of your neck. His pupils blown wide as his gaze zeroed in on the way you fell apart for him, the way you twitched and squirmed just from his small touch. “Doing so well for me, sweetheart…think you can take more? Yea, I think you can.”
He was right of course; Leon was always right when it came to your body. He knew it better than anyone else, and so he slipped a second finger in. Stretching you out even as you clenched around his fingers, more slick coating him as his palm moved to smooth at your clit. Pleasure coursed through you as he did, a knot tightening in your stomach and your back arched as you threw your head back onto his shoulder.
Your eyes slipped close, and your legs trembled as his fingers continued plunging into you, until finally he found the sweetest spot inside you. The one that made you curl and whimper, unable to make a single coherent thought and his eyes watched your every reaction. There was nothing more he enjoyed than moments like this, being able to take care of you like you did him. Watching as you moaned and whined, your tongue wetting your lips as your breathing turned into pants. Then he curled his fingers up, and that’s all it took for you to gush over his hand. Your fingers gripping at his thigh as you whined from the intense orgasm washing over you. Leon kept his fingers moving to help your ride through it, pressing a kiss to your temple before he removed his hand from your shorts.
As you came down from the high, your eyes fluttered open to see Leon already looking at you. A small smile on your face as you moved a hand to bring his head closer to yours. You collide in a messy kiss, his tongue pressing into your mouth and your saliva mixing as urgency seemed to rush through your veins. The hand gripping his thigh moved up to push down the band of his sweatpants, but Leon’s hand moved before then stopping your actions and pulling away. A blush covering his cheeks as his eyes darted away.
“I-er, can…can we try something? Today? Don’t get me wrong baby.” He was clearly flustered as he spoke, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You wondered what he could mean, but before being able to get any words out the agent behind you spoke again “I meant what I said, I want to be as close to you as possible”.
Red flowed over your face as you realised what he meant, your breath hitching lightly in your throat before pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. You gave him a small nod and started moving to adjust yourself, facing him with your legs either side of his own. His sweatpants pushed down to his thighs; your shorts discarded. Leon glanced at the mess coating your thighs, his eyes lidding as he swallowed the saliva gathering in his mouth.
Your own eyes glanced down and you bit your lip at the sight of his hardened cock, the sight practically making you drawl as the girth curved up to his stomach. His hand moved to wrap around himself, pumping a few times as his head fell back, and he watched you staring at him. Precum leaking from the slit of his tip as he groaned. You stopped him by wrapping your fingers around his wrist, leaning forward to kiss him, and moving yourself to hover over him.
“S’alright, stay there looking pretty baby, let me help keep you warm yea?” Leon swore that he could almost see heaven’s gates from your words. But when you wrapped your own fingers around him and sank down? Oh, he saw stars, and a goddess above him. A low sigh passed through his mouth, and one of his hands moved to rest on your thigh while the other moved to press you closer to him.
You happily obliged, the stretch of him as he filled you left you gasping for breath as your head lay on his chest. His hand rubbed up and down your back, and you relaxed into him further. There was something so intimate about this, you decided, having Leon just resting inside you without the movement…just there. You didn’t mind it; in fact, it was very calming for you. Maybe this is what you needed too, to be close to him like this after he had been gone for so long.
It didn’t take long before you felt Leon’s breath even out, your mind had drifted back to the tv but with the change in his breathing you moved to look at him. A smile spreading on your face as you noticed his eyes had closed and his mouth had gone slack. He had fallen asleep…guess he really needed this, you thought.
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elsweetheart · 11 months
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jealous girl — basketball!abby anderson au
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synopsis: when the other girls on your cheer squad relentlessly show interest in your girlfriend, the captain of the basketball team — you feel the undying urge to claim her as yours and yours only.
♪ jealous girl — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪
cw: reader is a cheerleader / athletic, girl drama, alcohol, reader gets very possessive, jealousy and insecurity for no reason tbh, angst??? reader cries a bunch what’s new, smut, use of strap on, housewife kink, dom top abby, sub bottom reader, a little bit of overstim if you squint? fem reader, lmk if i missed anything!
an: omg hi! i’m so nervous to post this omg. i hope you like the route i took this down! reader can be kind of annoying but stick with it. minors you are not welcome here so don’t interact and ageless blogs you will be blocked. also please don’t ask for a part two! there will not be one! anyways hope you enjoy it bbs ! likes and reblogs welcome ♡
Winner. Scholar. First place.
And that was just the first shelf of Abby’s trophy cabinet. She’d been given the premier student accommodation. You know, the apartments they reserve for their most promising students. Sleek grey cabinets and polished floors, a kitchen to die for — it was no wonder you were barely ever at your own shitty little dorm. Every tri coloured ribbon that hung proudly beside her winnings wore a gleaming gold pendant on the end — just another display of her success. Walking around her sleek scholar apartment was so familiar to you that the glimmering display cabinet barely caught your eye anymore, but each time it did it welcomed a blossom of pride in your chest for your girlfriend, Abby Anderson.
Abby — casual rugby player, frequent at the boxing society, known for wooing her professors into raising her grades by showing up with her own engraved golf club to their country club and wowing them with her swing. But she was known for one thing and one thing only around campus, and that was being the captain of the basketball team.
She was ruthless, six feet and two inches of pure muscle and willpower on the court. The blonde braid, her trademark, swishing against her toned back — and if you’re seeing it, it’s because she’s already passed you with the ball that you had just bounced. You were no stranger to the sound of the orange ball thudding against laminate floors, and the squeaking of sneakers. Infact, it’s what brought the two of you together. No, you were not on the basketball team. You, were a cheerleader.
Not the captain, although that would have been beautifully cliche; the basketball ball team captain dating the captain of the cheerleading squad — take a shot every time you read the word captain, no seriously, quickest way to get wasted. You were happy that way, however. When you weren’t dancing, you were shy by nature. The change in your demeanour was a shock to the system every time — countless frat douches and friendly party goers stepping away wide eyed when they’d approach you, hoping for cheerleader charm and instead being met with a flustered squeak. It took a while for Abby to get through to you infact, as you can imagine — being a campus celebrity and all — approaching the shy girl was a mission she was willing to try again and again at, warming you up until you were eating right out of her big coarse palm.
The memory of your first meeting was still something that made her chuckle. She’d been crushing on you for a while before even saying a word — stealing heated glances at you whilst you were dancing or being tossed in the air — whilst you of course were convinced you had hallucinated The Abby Anderson acknowledging your existence. She was tired of stiffening up at your demure glances and flustered smiles directed at her, so all but marched over to you after winning a huge game. Pumped full of adrenaline, chest heaving as she chased her breath — you in her laser vision. You noticed the hair stuck to her forehead before she even spoke, the shape of an S.
“Hi—”
“I’m Abby.” She breathed out, like a total loser — she’d add.
“I… I know. I’m—”
“I know. Let me take you out. Please?” Don’t beg, Abby. “I asked your roommate if you liked girls.” You did not have to tell her that, jheez. Creep much?
“Oh…?” You couldn’t seem to close your mouth, trying to process what was happening and happening fast. For a moment you questioned whether you’d taken a tumble on that last cartwheel, currently blacked out on the floor in a concussion-hazed dream. Ooh, maybe Abby is carrying you to the infirmary.
“You can say no.” She rambled. She looked nervous for a moment and when you started to smile, so did she. “But… don’t.”
So you didn’t.
Abby was a dream. After you’d said yes, her confidence was slammed back into her and she was busying herself with planning ways to make you hers. She was confident and naturally dominant (Opening regular doors for you, opening car doors for you, hand on your lower back when you walked together…) without being arrogant. Humble, whilst holding herself with a presence that commanded nothing short of respect. She’d taken you for milkshakes for your first date, and you’d clicked instantly. Abby did everything right, which made your face hot and stomach clench up in nerves at the idea of doing something wrong infront of her. But that feeling melted away, the only two people in the small but admirable diner — Abby carrying the conversation for long enough until your shyness melted away, catching yourself in giggle fuelled rambles and debates.
You’d kissed her on the cheek at the end of the first date. So innocent, so sweet — she remembers thinking. She let you have that, didn’t try and go in for a kiss on the lips, stood outside your building. She was happy with her decision when you pulled back and just looked so fucking proud of yourself for taking such a leap. You exchanged some kind words, some gratitude with the small and humble bouquet Abby had showed up at your door with tucked under your arm — before you were flouncing away in your little sundress. Abby touched her hot cheek when she walked away, smiling ear to ear. Her fingertips grazed over a slightly sticky outline, and she picked up her pace to get home so that she could look in the mirror and catch the sight of your lipstick print on her face.
Current day, and you’re puffing out your cheeks — stepping into the sweaty auditorium. The humidity is a little stifling and you frown in disapproval, wondering when they’re going to be getting the fans fixed like they said they would. This time, tucked beneath your arm is Abby’s white water bottle, college logo printed along the side, that she’d left in your dorm when she’d dropped by the night before. Your eyes searched the room to spot her, and it didn’t take long as she pretty much towered over everyone — you stopped for a moment at the edge of the sports floor, chest inflamed by the sight of your squad members surrounding her, giggling.
You hate to say it, but whatever stereotype or rumour you’d heard about cheerleaders is true. Especially at your college, there was something so criminally But, I’m a Cheerleader (1999) about your squad in particular. You didn’t like to get involved in the drama, but sapphic drama was not unfamiliar to you. It was bizarre, everyone was friends — but their sporty girlfriends from outside of the team were getting passed around like peas. Abby had always been an object of their affection, but before you had started dating her she seemed out of reach — due to the fact the blonde quite literally never even glanced their way, too focused on the game, and whispers of ‘Abby doesn’t date sports team girls’ around campus. Since the two of you had been together, what — 10 months now? It seems to have refilled their confidence in being able to win her over, regardless of how you felt about it.
It was never direct. To anyone else, the group of you seemed like great friends — and you were the number one flyer, needing you as the centre piece for every dance. You were happy to get chucked in the air so long as they caught you, so as you can imagine; that element mixed with your shyness forced you into not confronting them all for flirting with Abby.
"No but if I had arms like this? Whew, no one would be safe. I'd be a slut... I mean I already am..." The cheer captain, Liv spoke, the other dancers squealing in agreement. Abby looked uncomfortable to say the least, forcing a polite smile and trying to wedge herself out the small hyena circle they had formed around her. A blossom of pride filled your chest when you saw the sheer relief in her eyes, her gaze landing on you. You surged forward into the light, smiling awkwardly at your peers as you approached your girlfriend. She bounced the orange ball on the ground once before tucking it under her arm, other bulging arm bringing you in for a quick hug. "Hi, baby." She chirped, happy to see you.
You wanted to enjoy the moment, but couldn't ignore the disapproving gazes from behind Abby's back, their faux-friendly smiles turning to not so subtle glances and snickers toward each other. Just ignore them. Abby didn't pay them any mind so why should you?
"Hi Abs." You lowered your voice, like you were hoping they'd get the hint and give you two privacy. They stuck around like flies, much to your disappointment. "You left your bottle at my dorm. Didn't want you to get dehydrated agai—"
"Awwww, you guys are so cute!" The bleach blonde base leader appeared beside your girlfriend, obnoxiously butting in and making a point to rest her hand on Abby's bicep. "I want what you have." She pout, but you couldn't help but feel that comment was directed more toward you.
"Oh—thanks." You chuckle, not quite meeting her eye. Abby took the bottle from you, shooting you a subtle ‘wtf?’ look which made you wanna giggle.
"Oh you refilled it, nice. Was so fuckin' thirsty." She smoothed a hand over your head gratefully as she brought the bottle to her lips and chugged, stepping away to address her team, their practice ending for the day, giving the cheerleaders the space to rehearse for tomorrow. "Alright team, circle up I got a few pointers." You heard her command, smiling as you watched her team members gather around her obediently. You snapped your eyes away toward the girl still stood by you, eyes slightly narrowed as she observed you. She looked away when you noticed her intense gaze.
As much as you hated to see Abby leave without you, it always brought you some kind of relief — knowing that your squad could actually focus on what you were there for, cheerleading — instead of fawning over your girlfriend, giggling, bending over in her direction to 'tie their laces'. You knew dating Abby would bring a lot of attention, and you knew that there must have been plenty of girls that were after her — but this whole thing with your own squad was getting pretty old. Sometimes you wished you weren't so shy, so you could give them a real stern talking to. You didn't wanna put it all on Abby, it wasn't fair, she didn't ask for this and plus it was your problem. You didn't wanna be that jealous and possessive girlfriend, did you?
The next day, Friday rolled around fast.
It took a lot to shake Abby’s confidence. She knew she was good at what she did, otherwise she wouldn’t be on such a prestigious scholarship, or have acquired the team captain title so fast — but she was nervous. The impending game was a big one, there was no room for fuck up’s. There had been talk of scouters for top women’s basketball leagues joining the audience, and Abby knew that if things went well it could really put her on the map, no — it was guaranteed.
Your eyes were fluttering closed, heavy after the long day you’d had perfecting your routine with the team. You were in your shabby little dorm, practically a hole in comparison to Abby’s sleek apartment. More times than not you’d stay with your girlfriend, calm eachothers nerves before a big game — but you had mutually decided that you’d both needed to ensure a perfect night’s sleep. Your phone laid beside your head on your pillow, the glow of Abby’s contact picture lighting up the small space around it. She was breathing slow and calm on the other line, clearly tired herself.
“And then you can come and stay at mine tomorrow after the game, and stuff.” She hummed, the sound of her shifting positions, her bedsheets rustling taking over the audio for just a moment.
“Mhm. ‘Can celebrate your win.” You smile, eyes now closed as you picture it all, nervous butterflies batting their wings against your stomach.
“Or mourn my loss.” She chides. “You can still come over either way.” Abby chuckles but it’s dry and humourless. She always got this way before a game, just a little pessimistic — doubting herself subtly through sly jokes and quiet comments. To anyone else, she’d still appear just as confident and carefree — but you knew Abby.
“Abs, don’t say that. Y’gonna win. Simple as.” You exhale, feeling your body sink further and further into the pillow. She was silent for a moment, considering it — probably doubting everything that had just come out your mouth, this time in her head.
“Hm.” You listened to her breathing, and it made you sleepier. “You’re tired baby. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” You wanted to protest, be there for her and soothe her nerves for a little longer until she felt ready to sleep but her voice was lulling you into a dozed state.
“You sure? I can… stay…” You could barely finish your sentence, making her chuckle tiredly.
“Yes, pretty girl. Gotta get your rest for tomorrow. Need you cheering me on up there, helps me play better.” She was smiling, you could hear it. Your heart swelled and you made a happy humming sound to after.
“Night Abby, seeyoutomorrowloveyou.” You sigh out in one breath.
“Night baby. Get some rest. I love you.”
The opening intro to Fergie’s — Fergalicious blared through the auditorium, your squad occupying half the court as you danced for the screaming crowd. Hips, hips, split jump, cartwheel — behind your bright smile you were counting steps, keeping your arms tight and straight, flickering your eyes towards the scoreboard. You looked properly as you stood on top of the pyramid, ankle by your head — burst of adrenaline and relief when your eyes landed on the numbers in glowing red, signifying that Abby’s team was still in the lead. You gracefully flipped, and were caught back on the ground, heart thundering in your chest as you continued on with the dance.
As rehearsed, the college mascot had run on, joining in on the dance. A ridiculous looking wolf with a brightly coloured t-shirt and cap on its furry head. He danced beside you, comedically shaking it’s hips in time with you. You glanced over at Abby, happy to see her looking eased, a slight smile on her face as she jogged away from the net, watching you dance. A few strands of her hair stuck to her face from sweating and it reminded you of the day she asked you out.
63-63 with three minutes to spare.
Your squad tried not to show that they were itching from the sidelines, eyes glued to the players as you were lined up by the benches, waving pom poms now and shouting your usual chants, trying not to get drowned out by the passionate yelling of the audience.
Be aggressive! B-E aggressive! I said be aggressive B-E aggressive! B-E A G G - R E S S I V E! Whooping the house down show ‘em who’s the leader — bring ya’ baby down down, go cheerleader!
You tried to keep your grin as you chant, moving your hips in time with your claps and arm movements as you watched Abby’s team mate miss the net, ball rebounding off the backboard. You caught a glimpse of the frustrated expression on Abby’s face, jogging around players and yelling directions over the crowd that seemed deafening at this point. You watched her eyes rake through the audience, looking for a talent scout shaking her head and drawing a big red cross on her clipboard or something. Her eyes then found you, a inkling of panic that was calmed by the tide that was your face staring right back at her, smile still plastered as you repeat your chants with your group. The sight of you surged something through her, she had to do it for you.
63-63 with two minutes to spare.
“Don’t worry guys, Abby’s got this.” Liv twinkled proudly, like the blonde captain even knew her name and you felt sick. Sick with nerves, sick with possessiveness, sick with irritation. You stomped your feet that little bit louder whilst you cheered, wanting to dash your pompoms at her head. You felt sweat trickling down your spine, head starting to pound from all the tension and noise. Was the crowd getting even louder? Where did you put your water bottle?
63-63 with one minute to spare, and there was no time to drink.
Even the chants stopped, the squad trailing off just to watch in awe. The sound barrier practically broke when the ball came to a thudding halt, caught mid pass by none other than Abby Anderson, basketball hero. This other team were good, frighteningly so — but they were no match for her. She dribbled with precision in and out of players until she met a wall of her opposition, closing in on her fast to snatch the ball. She turned left, turned right, looking for someone on her team she could rely on to get the ball in the net. The coach yelled from the side, the cheerleaders gripped eachother, the audience stood on their feet. Abby’s knees bent, arms extending. Everything went slow motion, like it always did as you watched with wide eyes. The ball didn’t circle round the hoop, it didn’t slide down from the backboard, it slammed straight through the net so hard you thought when it landed it might leave a dent in the ground.
63-64— and the crowd fucking exploded.
You were immediately jostled to the side by your squad jumping up and down, grabbing eachother with screams. You stumbled, jaw agape trying to catch sight of her. Where are you Abby? Let me see you.
She was suddenly there, expression mirroring yours. The world still moved slow, spotting eachother now. She took off toward you, dodging the grasp of a celebratory cheerleader, skidding past a team member that tried to pull her in, straight toward you. You met her half way, feet in control now and leapt, Abby getting the same idea and thrusting her arms around your waist, swinging you round in a circle. Then, you could both smile, and it didn’t stop growing, not even when you smashed your lips together. There was no sound anymore, no screaming crowd or cheering squad members — just your own delighted giggle against her, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, the back of her hot, sweaty neck in your palm, your teeth clashing together at the force of the kiss.
You pulled away to breathe and the sound returned like you’d just come back up from underwater, the yells, the cheers, the chanting of her name. “I did it I fucking— do you know what this— baby, i did it.” She was panting, forehead pressed to yours and hell, you couldn’t care less that it seemed the world was watching such an intimate moment.
“Your life’s gonna change Abby, i’m so proud of you.” You breathed, and before she could reply — expression of awe, and utter love struck, she was setting you down and her team was tearing her away, lifting her above their head, passing her another big golden trophy to add to her shelf. She held it in the air, and then came the flashing of cameras, the barrage of students running to celebrate with her. A cheerleader from the other team roughly brushed your shoulder as she passed you with a glare and you didn’t even stop to acknowledge her, just watching on with pride — hands clasped beneath your chin. Your Abby had won, and nothing else in that moment mattered.
8:04PM
“Is it braggy if I wear the jersey on top?” She was smirking a little, stood in front of you in all her glory in her apartment. You spun around at the vanity, eyes taking her in as you pulled your little pink dress further down your thighs.
Your girlfriend was showered, and dressed — donning her bright blue jersey over her grey hoodie and jeans. You grinned, standing up. She looked good, but she always looked good. You had to stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around her neck. “Don’t you think you deserve to brag, a little?” You flutter your eyelashes, tilting your head with a grin.
After every game that was won, a party was thrown at the house of one of the sports captains. It was tradition, and almost always it was in Abby’s honour, because she was almost always the star of every game. The one to think of a genius formation that would throw off the other team, the one to make changes last minute that would be the saving grace, the one to make the winning shot. Today was like no other, and you knew everyone was willing to go extra hard this time — after that win, Abby was like a fucking celebrity.
You felt like you were hit with a shockwave of noise as soon as you walked in. The bass from the speaker was all but vibrating the floorboards, the sticky…wet (?) floorboards. You blinked, accustoming yourself to the low lights, clinging onto Abby’s thick bicep as a swarm of people coming to greet her approached. Sometimes parties felt like survival, Abby being that buoy in a storm that you’d cling to until the tide had cleared. The music was loud as usual, familiar, what was the song playing? You recognised the familiar tune to Blame It by Jamie Foxx and T-Pain and nodded your head with a false confidence. Drink, I need a drink — you thought, detaching yourself from Abby to beeline to the makeshift bar once you’d spotted it. Not the punch, you weren’t stupid — you had no clue what people had put in there. Vodka… vodka where are you? You grabbed the clear bottle with the red lid and poured yourself a generous amount into your cup before filling the rest up with… what were your options— cranberry juice. Nice. This will get you by. You needed social skills tonight, Abby had won a huge game and you didn’t wanna drag her down with your shyness. You sipped, no — downed some of your drink with a wince, some liquid spilling down your chin. Alter ego activate, shyness be gone.
You found Abby again, and when she spotted you awkwardly trying to wedge yourself through a gap to get to her she slotted her arm through, parting the sea of people like Moses himself to pull you right up beside her, torso to her ribs. You could stay like this, right up on her— you wanted to stay like this, but you’ll be damned if your girlfriend wasn’t social.
It’s an hour later, you’re drunk, laughing at something dumb Manny had come up with, social for once — and you hear them before you see them. The gaggle. The malicious giggles, pitched just a little higher than their real laugh in an attempt to turn heads. It works, you turn, there stand your cheerleader friends. ‘Friends’.
You can tell they went hard with the pregaming because they’re clinging onto eachother, forcing their way through the party crowd like a cluster of germs. That’s mean, you think to yourself, shaking off that feeling — the ugly feeling rising in your stomach like scalding bile. Insecurity, the feeling immovable even when you’re drunk and joyous, lodged into you seemingly forever, an arrow with spikes. You push it down, push it down, push it down as they squeal and come towards you. It flares up with immense force when you catch their outfits. They’re all wearing ‘Anderson’ jerseys. Did they fucking buy personalised jerseys?
It’s like you step out of yourself for a moment because you reach out and take a hold of the jersey across the cheer captains chest, turning her around and pulling the material taut as you see ��Anderson’ in crisp white font across her back, mocking you. Your mouth is agape, unfocused and she steadies herself, turning back around and grabbing you.
“You like ‘em?” She whoops and all the girls join her, fondling their jerseys proudly and looking around for more eyes.
“Personalised jerseys?” Is all you manage to let out, just a simple observation. Liv falters for a second, something mischievous twinkling in her eye, lip curling up ever so slightly.
“Baaabe, the manufacturer f’ed up our order, and we fell one short. But we figured you’d have your own one right?” She eyes you obviously. Her malice is hardly hidden anymore. “Abby didn’t give you her jersey?” She tilts her head, as if it were an innocent question. You bitc—
“Abby!” The copper haired girl behind her squeals and you don’t have to turn around to know your girlfriend has unknowingly made her presence clear and accessible. The troupe practically rush you, shoving past to circle Abby once more. The uncomfortable look the blonde had yesterday in the court was gone, the one drink she’d been harbouring all night loosening her up a little — which made that insecure, jealous feeling nestle itself back beneath your ribcage.
“Heeeey— ohhh, awesome!” She smiles in a friendly way when she notices their jerseys. The same friendly expression she’d give to anyone, not flirty or lusty in the slightest — but they’re grabbing at her and batting their lashes up at her like they want to jump on her there and then and you feel yourself trying to crush the red solo cup in your palm. You’re broken out of your enraged trance because your sweet, thoughtful girlfriend is pulling you through the crowd they made, grinning without a care in the world. “You see this babe? Ah, should have given you my one to wear huh?” She laughs, and they laugh, but for different reasons.
The girls leave her alone for a while, but God they’re always fucking watching. Finding ways to subtly interact with your girlfriend. Accidentally bumping into her, which she barely notices until they start profusely apologising. Dance moves becoming inherently more sexy when she turns in their direction — not even looking at them but oh do they try. You finish your drink, because you need to finish your drink— and succumb to the urge to be that girlfriend. Who gives a fuck? Maybe you are that girlfriend.
It didn’t feel like you when you impatiently tugged her away from Nora, another basketball player, mid conversation, hands clasped in Abby’s silky jersey, pulling yourself to her chest, your own tits squishing against her.
“Aaabs.” You whine, and it’s giddy, lustful because she just looks so good. She smirks down at you, letting you tug at her, letting you move her. She looks so into you in that moment and it just… somethings not enough. You’re glancing for your cheer team, and that hideous feeling of shame briefly twinges inside you. Are they watching this? Seeing me touch you? Do they know you’re mine?
“Baby.” She’s returning your giddy smile, and you have to pull away from a moment so that you could back up a little… a little more into the clearing… give them a perfect view.
“Y’look so good.” Is all you can say because it’s true, and you’re pretty sure your eyes completely glazed over— pupils shooting out wide when she grabs a handful of your ass, a little rough but in a loving way, just like the Abby you’re used to — using her grip to pull you back into her hard, a small ‘hmph!’ whimper forced out of you when you all but slam into her strong chest. You love it when she got like this. Grabby. Forgetting her own strength and manhandling you. You’d usually be giggling and shoving her away in public, but you craved the eyes now. You wanted viewers, jealous gazes, realisations — Abby is locked in.
“Oh it’s like that huh?” She’s chuckling at your expression. Forever her needy girl.
You sucked in your lower lip, eyes melting into that doe eyed expression that made her want to fuck it off your face, and she squeezes your ass a little harder. Your knees practically buckle, face burning hot because you feel your pussy spread open under your dress — as if she’s opening the floodgates by hand, wetness pouring out into your underwear. You hoped and prayed they were watching. Screw your little Anderson jerseys, she’s gonna be knuckle deep inside me in five minutes if the two of you kept this up.
“Cant wait to— mm—” You turn your head. Liv is snickering, whispering, but her expression says it all. Jealousy. You feel victorious. Abby curls a finger around your chin and your distracted gaze is back on her.
“Cant wait to what?” She glances in the direction of what you were staring at and your heart skips a beat.
“Can’t wait for you to remind me what a winner feels like.” You breathe out quickly and she’s back, smirking hard like she can’t control it. If she was packing, she’d be tilting her hips forward by now, digging her strap into the mound of your cunt through your thin dress where you stood — and it makes her wish she did pull the harness up her thick thighs beneath her jeans before the two of you left for the party.
“Yeah?” Her voice is breathy, low. “Forgotten already?” She chuckles, and she’s kind of right to— she was always winning, it wasn’t easy to forget.
“Mhm. Oops.” You shrug and you both giggle this time, her hands sliding around your waist. Each time her hands find a new spot on her you can’t help yourself from glancing over at the eyes. At Liv. At the whispers. Get a good fucking look.
Abby leans in, hot breath on your cheek and you turn back to her nearly knocking noses. Her brows are frowned a little and her cheeks rosy, lips parted in a way that made you wanna shove your tongue between them. “Give me… a little while longer to bask in this.” She chuckles, humble like she always was. She steals a kiss from your parted lips. “Can’t leave a party thrown for me so soon… just a little longer and I’ll take you home and give you a reminder, pretty girl.” her blunt finger nails rake behind your ear, scraping whatever hair was there backwards, pecking you again. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling, hot and lethargic. You wanted to be obedient but something still negged at you, buzzed in your ear like a fly to ‘stay focused’.
You gripped her strong arms. An attempt at control.
“Don’t have to leave. Can just go upstairs. Right here right now.” You whined in an impatient way this time, fingers curling around her hoodie peeking from beneath her jersey. She blinked a few times and you knew she wasn’t a huge fan— Abby never liked quickies, especially not on a celebration. She wanted each time she fucked you to be memorable, like a performance — she was a love maker, and to her public quickies were usually just a little… euck.
Her soft smile remained, because the request only told her that you were desperate to have her. All the more reason to make you wait, she thought. Get you real worked up. Yeah, she could have fun with this.
“Not happening, babe. Wanna take my time on you, don’t you wanna have it out with me all night?” She tilted her head, persuading, blowing hot air over your mouth and God — yes, on one hand you wanted that badly but there you go again… eyes trailing off to the right… over to your cheer group. Show them. Drag me up the stairs Abby. Make me walk out the bathroom limping. Show them what they can’t have.
So you said “No!” and you were one quick movement from actually stomping your foot like a child. Abby looked taken aback, but she still chuckled. Not in a mean way, but was it ever? She leant back from you, trying to gauge just what was going on.
“No?”
“I need you here. You… stop denying me they’ll — they’ll see— it’s embarrassing—” The shovels in your hand and you’re digging that hole, deeper, deeper…
“Who will see? See what? Babe what’s with you?” The smile melts off and she’s frowning now. Ohhh, boy. You’ve fucked it up. You blink, like you’re trying to wake up from your petty possession. You look once more and they’re intrigued now, gossiping. Are they fighting? Will Abby be single by the end of the night? This enrages you more, but you don’t have time to react because Abby sees it now. See’s that envious look in your eye, but it’s not really envy — because Abby has never in her life given you a reason to be jealous. It’s uncharacteristic and Abby’s stomach twists a little. “Oh.” She steps back, no no no.
“Sorry.” You splutter out. “Sorry, sorry— I’m sorry Abby I don’t know what that was. I just freaked. I want you to bask in this, people are here to celebrate and you deserve that. Sorry. I don’t… know what I was thinking there.” You try and force out a chuckle at the end to lighten things but it doesn’t come out quite right. Abby watches you for a moment, a little tense and worried. Eventually she gives you a small smile, coming close to you again, a hand on your shoulder.
“S’okay. No more drinks yeah?” She’s gentle and you’re embarrassed, of everything really. This is meant to be the greatest night of Abby’s college career and you’re… doing this. Making it about you. Your shoulders slump a little before you shake yourself off physically.
“Yeah, no. Good call. Whew.” You smile and she smiles back. It’s all okay. You’re okay.
Except it’s not, and she knows that. Things are a little weird now, you’re distracted and trying too hard to please her. Eyes snapping towards her guiltily every time she catches your gaze wandering off, as if scared she’ll see you looking at those girls again fearfully. You stay right by her side, shyness creeping back in. You’re smiling in a polite, forced way, and she can tell you’re not really enjoying yourself anymore. Not after that weird moment. It gets a little later, and the party isn’t in as full of swing as it was before but still pretty lively. She can’t enjoy herself if you’re not, so why bother?
You watch her watch you, her shoulders dropping slightly when she sees how tense you look. Truthfully you were worried, you’d tried to show off — let your possessive urges control you — and now, insecurities at the surface you’d seem to make things worse. You didn’t know why you’d let this pick at you, get under your skin the way it has but the fact they’d all seen you have that weird moment? It was eating you alive. They were probably so smug, probably thought they stood a chance with Abby now. Your Abby.
“Babe let’s just go.” Your attention snaps back towards her, suddenly stood in front of you— her braid resting on her shoulder.
“What?”
“Yeah, no it’s— I can’t enjoy myself if you’re not. I’m not mad, baby I just don’t wanna force you to be here.” You feel so fucking bad.
“Abby, it’s not — I am enjoying myself. This is your party.” You express, coming close to her. Most of the alcohol had worn off by now, and you just felt sick from embarrassment— and this conversation was even more sobering. She shrugs, and looks around. It no longer seems to interest her.
“I know but… I’d rather you just be… not in this mood.” She speaks quietly but you hear her and your face falls. Did you really show yourself up that badly?
“Alright.” You match her pitch, and her back is to you again — saying goodbyes. You can’t look up, can’t look and see their disappointed faces. You wish you could close your ears, to not hear the choruses of ‘Already?’s and ‘Cmon Abby this is your party!’s. But you couldn’t keep your forlorn gaze glued to the ground for long, because you knew people would look at you, see your expression and know it’s your fault she’s leaving prematurely. You cursed yourself for caring too much about what people thought that night, and smiled politely in departure.
Abby took your hand, fingers locked into yours as she walked you toward the door, saying bye to people as she continued moving. You made the mistake of sparing your cheer team a departing look, and they were watching once more — glancing at each other curiously. Liv wiggled her eyebrows playfully as you passed her. “Ooo, someone’s in trouble.” She snickered, and your breath caught in your throat.
You didn’t start crying until the car was half way down the street. You’d tried to keep it silent at first. But the car was already silent, the radio not turned on and Abby not saying anything. You didn’t know what the silence meant, you just knew you didn’t like it. Maybe she was reconsidering things. You’d ruined her night, the night that was supposed to be all hers and you took it from her — all because of your petty, jealous, insecurities. That wasn’t the kind of girlfriend she deserved, you were supposed to put all your focus into supporting her. Exist for her. She’d never given you a reason to worry about other girls but for fucks sake — those girls. You let them walk all over you every single day and now they were all talking. All coming up with schemes to take Abby from you, thinking your relationship was on the rocks and maybe it would work. After how you acted tonight, maybe it would fucking work.
You covered your face when the tears started really coming down hard, a quiet sob shuddering out of you. Abby glanced at you, jaw tensing a little. Not because she was angry, just because she was so confused about how you’d gotten here. She’d never seen you like this before and just… what had she done to get you so fucked up like this? She spoke your name, calmly — full of authority and a little detached, not cooing it gently like she would when she’s seen you cry in the past. Her tone made another sob hiccup out, and she spoke it again. “Look at me.”
You did, and you had to wipe the snot from beneath your nose so that it didn’t stick to your hands when you pulled them away. Your makeup was ruined, eyes sore and red and she glanced over you, her main focus on the road.
“Just… breathe and calm down. We are gonna talk about this when we get home.” She shakes her head a little, eyes on the road. Your heart aches and soothes a little at her calling her student apartment ‘home’ like it belonged to the both of you. You don’t have time to indulge the fantasy. “I don’t… understand this… tantrum babe.” She mutters like she’s too mature for it all and she is, which makes you all the more embarrassed. She doesn’t speak for the rest of the journey home, tear drops on her expensive leather seats. Well — she doesn’t speak if you don’t include the occasional “Breathe.” and such when she’d hear your breathing start to pick up, upsetting yourself all over again.
She walked you up to her apartment and you hugged yourself as you stood behind her, watching her unlock her door. She held the door open for you, but didn’t look at you when you walked through — unsurely looking around like you’d never been there before. You wasn’t sure what to do or where to go. Did she want to talk now?
You stood in the hallway and her warm hands gently came down onto your shoulders.
“Go sit down on the couch.”
When Abby tells you what to do, you do it. And not because she’s scary, or intimidating or aggressive. She just carries this… air to her. One that makes you want to respect her, no matter how worked up or pissed off or upset you are. It would be the same way every single time, she’ll calmly make a demand and you fucking do it. Of course, minus the mini ‘tantrum’, as she so kindly put it, you had.
She didn’t follow you, infact — she walked the other way to her bedroom, hearing the door click shut when you made your way into her living room area. The leather couch that was usually home to so much love and affection now cold against your skin when you sit down on it, the sleek material frigid from not being touched for hours on end. You bring your knees together shivering a little, and a few minutes later Abby returns. She wields a makeup wipe, and presses it into your palm silently when she lowers herself into the arm chair opposite you. You want to cry out like a baby and reach for her, ask her why she’s sitting so far away but you have to be good. You have to fix everything.
Abby’s thighs spread as she leans forward, staring you down analytically with her elbows on her knees, long fingers wringing her wrists before she looks down at them, puffing out her cheeks with a long exhale. You wait for her to speak, wiping the gooey eye makeup up from your cheeks and eyes.
“Tell me… what this is all about.” Her voice holds a quiet kindness this time, despite the line that appears between her brows as her expression becomes a little exasperated.
You suck in a quick breath, eager to explain yourself and beg for forgiveness — “Nothing I was just being —”
“The truth.” She raised her hand to speak which silenced you instantly. You press your lips together, letting two fat residual tears race down your cheeks either side, the left tear winning victoriously when it surpassed your jaw and streamed lazily along your neck. Abby watched it move.
You thought this time. No more covering it up. No more being immature. Be truthful. What was this all about again?
“I think…” You gulped, willing yourself to be brave. You knew Abby might not see you as a ‘chill’ girlfriend anymore— exposing your insecurities and jealousy — but she wanted the truth and being a liar was objectively worse. “The girls on my cheer team are… I think they’re picking on me.” You admit quietly and her brows jump up, intrigued. Not quite what she was expecting. She stays quiet and you carry on. “I’m not… I don’t wanna be toxic and jealous. I let it get the better of me tonight. They’re always… flirting with you, talkin’ about you, showing off to you, trying to get your attention and at first I didn’t care because, I have you, you know? And you’ve never given me any reason to believe your eyes have wandered but fuck it’s so hard when they’re just… relentless. And beautiful and confident and I’m… I know what people think Abby. I know I’m shy and people wonder how…” You trail off, and you’re not sure you wanna admit any more. Not after that explosive rant.
“People wonder how what?” She pushes, and she’s scooched so far onto the edge of her seat that her long legs are bunched up and she’s barely perched on it.
“Wonder how… I got you. Why you stay with me.”
The confusion just melts off her face.
She blinks a couple of times, feeling like someone just placed her heart in a panini press hearing your sad and small tone of voice. So small, and she can tell you really believe what you’re saying and it just kills her. She wants to reach out then and there and hold you and kiss you and cry for you but you’re talking again.
“And I know you’re not a trophy and I don’t see you that way, please don’t think I ever—”
“No, no no no.” Abby cuts you off as a correction, eyes shut as she scrubs a hand down her face. She gets it now. The jealousy. Clearly, you hadn’t noticed the wandering eyes of her basketball team players, smirking over at you when your little cheer skirt that was too short for everyone’s good would flip up, shaking your hips in your adorable little routines. How if she didn’t keep you on her arm at every party, frat boys would start to circle you like crows, waiting to pounce until they realise, holy shit that’s Abby’s girl, and back off. If anyone got it, it was her. “You don’t need to explain anymore I’m… sorry. Come here, please.” Her pained expression relieves you and also devastates you because now she’s blaming herself.
You listen, again, because it’s Abby and you push off the couch to stand in front of her on the arm chair. She pulls you to sit sideways on her leg, thick arms wrapping around your waist protectively. She looks up at you, brows furrowed.
“You are beautiful. I don’t… want anyone else. Ever. I love you, baby. You know I love you? You know I don’t give a fuck about any of those other girls. They’re not you they’re not… c’mon.” That gentle cooing voice has broken through and more tears slide down your raw cheeks. She’s wiping them away this time, coarse thumb swiping the moisture until it absorbs into her skin, becoming apart of her.
You sniffle, overwhelmed. “I’m sorry. This is your night and you’re comforting me. I promise I’m happy for you.” You hiccup into her neck when she pulls you in, and you feel her shake her head because her braid tickles your arm.
“I don’t care.” She chuckles honestly and cups your face to pull you back, make you look at her. She’s so beautiful you want to cry some more. “I don’t. It could be my birthday and I’d still look after you. You’re my girl, yeah? You over everything.” She exaggerates, moving her head slightly to meet your eyes when you try to shamefully drift them away.
“Kay. Love you, Abby. M’so lucky.” She feels you sigh in relief and your body relaxes just a little bit. Her hands slide around your back and press into the muscle, massaging and rubbing — trying to get you to just melt and become one with her when you cuddle her.
“I’m lucky.” She speaks into your temple, pressing kisses there. She manages to gently manoeuvre you until her lips are pressing the same quick succession of kisses onto your swollen pouty lips. She hums in satisfaction and you feel something stir in your tummy. The hum was almost primal, one that said ‘this is mine.’ You wanted to hear the noise again. Without too much thought behind it, you turn to sit on her lap fully, facing her now. You pull yourself closer with your arms around her neck and your kisses begin to dot along her jawline. Come on Abby, make the pretty noise.
She sighs, tilting her head for your access and thinks. Thinks over everything that had just happened. Maybe she hadn’t done enough, her brain had been so focused on winning the game that perhaps she’d forgotten to reassure you when you needed it, and she knew how important reassurance was in a relationship. An urge spread through her body, starting in her stomach like an icy cold lake and travelling up to her chest like molten lava. The urge to just… give you everything. Everything you wanted and needed. Everything you couldn’t ask for and everything she should have given you. Abby had always harboured a ‘spoiling’ side, and in that moment it had kicked in hard.
She pulled the strap of your dress off your shoulder, letting your head tip back this time as she sucked and nipped at the soft skin there. She loved how opposite you were to her, when she was sweaty and rough around the edges after a game you were still impossibly soft everywhere, still smelled sweet and clean and like you, like she was a wild lion coming to lay her cheek in your gentle hand after slaughtering a deer.
You squirmed on her lap and Abby jumped between your lips and your skin, feeling that beautifully familiar warmth begin to spread through your underwear again. Starting with your clit starting to throb when she’d gently buck her thighs below you — all the way to your hole that started to ache and crave the feeling of her inside. Her tongue lapped up your own, sucking obscenely as her hands pushed your lower back, bringing you higher on her lap and— oh?
You were now sitting atop a bulge. One that wasn’t there at the party. You thought back to her disappearing into her room as you sat down on the couch when you’d arrived back at the apartment and smiled at the feeling against her lips. So calculated, Abby — and she smiled back because she knew. Knew she was gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you after your talk, she just didn’t expect you to fold so easily. For it to take such an emotional direction. She could just tease you for being a cry baby, but where’s the fun in that?
You start to grind like you just can’t help yourself, your shared saliva pooling beneath your pouty bottom lip as the kisses became more sloppy and intense. You swore you could never get over how good it felt to hump against her jeans in just your panties, the combination of materials and the writhing of your hips always leaving you gasping. Abby too, the way the strap was positioned would press snugly against her clit making her breath stutter against your lips. She refocused herself, fingers tugging your dress up to your waist. Enough had been about her tonight she’d decided, now she wanted to make it all about you.
You detached for a moment to pull your dress over your head, lips meeting once more as she tossed it aside. Next came the unclasping of your bra, and then she was sliding your thong down your legs. When she balled it up to chuck aside she felt the wetness in her palm.
You stood over her now, the one time you weren’t shy — stark naked. She’d made you so comfortable over the ten months you’d been together it wasn’t even something you’d take a second worrying about anymore, Abby knowing the map of your body like the back of her hand. She made you feel so safe with her gentle-ness. Abby, big scary Abigail Anderson, Abby ‘i’ll beat your fucking face in if you step up to me outside the basketball court, no seriously repeat what the fuck you just said’ Anderson. And you’ve reduced her to this gentle, loving giant. Someone who was rubbing her big hand up your tummy as her thighs caged you in where you stood. Reaching for your breast and just rolling her thumb over your nipple making your legs quiver a little. All her stoicism that everyone else knew her for had melted away, her eyes soft and loving as she gazed at you, touching you.
She reached up and began tugging her jersey off over her head, leaving her in the grey hoodie. Where you expected her to toss it aside with the heap that was your pink dress and underwear, she brought her attention to it, bunching it up and opening up the head hole of the shirt. “C’mere.” She muttered, standing up over you, your neck suddenly craning to meet her eye. “Put it on. Fuck those other girls cheap ass jerseys. My girl gets the real deal.” She’s speaking so quietly that you feel like she’s talking to herself, that you shouldn’t intrude her stream of thoughts — even if the words made you literally clench your hole so tight you could crush a fucking walnut in there.
She slipped it over your head and pulled your arms through the arm holes, stepping back with her hands on your shoulders so she could look at you. Look down at you. See the way you stared up at her tall frame, her jersey swamping you and resting beneath the swell of the plump under-cup of your ass cheeks. “Looking good babe.” She smiles, holding you back to carry on looking at you even when you try and lurch forward, hands loose-fisted and grabby as you try and climb all up on her again where she stood. She subdued you by taking your hand, walking away and practically dragging you along behind her. “C’mon, this way. Not fucking you on the couch.” Though it wouldn’t be the first time.
She had you on her lap again in no time, her feet planted heavily on the floor as you press into her cloaked strap, legs stretched over her thighs making you ache in that delicious way that said nothing more than ‘my girlfriend is fucking huge, the gym fears her’. Impatient, you’re tugging her hand that was cupping your throat, pushing it down, down between your thighs. She pulls away, a little breathless with her mouth all red when she slides her fingers through your cunt, eyes on your hard nipples creating little mountain peaks against her jersey as you breathe heavy in her face. “Soaked, baby. Have you been needing me like this all night?” She’s whispering before her lips are on yours again, stroking your little bundle of nerves head on, making your legs flatten out and tense in the air with a quiet yelp. “I know.” She hums, and that’s all it takes to soothe you. Yes, she knows. She always knows. It was Abby for gods sake, if anyone knew exactly what you needed… well.
After torturous stroking, Abby’s middle finger curls down right to where your hole is, pressing and massaging and teasing. She knows you want her inside, you want more than her fingers, fuck — if you could you’d just consume her whole but this will definitely do the trick. “I want you,” she starts, slurred by the open mouth kiss she’s pressing to your shoulder now. “To ask me nicely. Not like you did earlier. Show me my good girl.” She whispered, like it was one last attempt at being strict before she just gave in and spoiled you. It fooled you, anyways— your mouth falling open with a whine as her thumb pressed up against your clit.
“Please Abby— ‘ll be a good girl now okay? Wanna be your good girl.” You’re blabbering against her cheek and she doesn’t fight you on it, pushing inside you and basking in the way you give her a welcoming squeeze upon entry.
“How are you still so tight? After I’ve abused that pretty pussy so many times?” She sighs, tone suggesting that she’s actually pondering it at a moment like this. You don’t have the strength to respond, fucking against her fingers. You loved foreplay with Abby, don’t ever doubt that for a second — but tonight there was something different, it just felt like preparation. The two of you knew that tonight of all nights you needed to get fucked with her cock, and that would be the main event. She could barely wait, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t loosen you up around her callous digits first so she can slip right inside of you easily.
She slips another finger inside you and you black out a little bit, like you always do. Maybe it was all the emotions finally catching up with you, but you just go limp in her lap, letting her finger fuck you the way you need. “Prettiest girl ever. Don’t know what the fuck you were worried about. Gonna fuck it out your brain tonight, yeah?” She’s cooing again and she knows that’s your sweet spot, that tone of voice doing it for you every damn time. If anything was gonna make you cum quick, it’s gonna be the sympathetic drag of her voice as she ensures you that you don’t have to think anymore.
“Yeah Abby, please! Yeah!” You sound pornagraphic and your spine flushes hot at the idea of the surrounding students in her neighbouring apartments hearing any of this — though it wouldn’t be the first time (as told by the passive aggressive post-it note left on her door reading ‘Keep it down we don’t all need to hear your girl busting a nut.’ that one time. You didn’t live down the humiliation for a week, and Abby of course only took it as a challenge to make you moan louder despite your pleas of ‘Abby! You’re going to get kicked out of your building!’ whilst her head was in your crotch. Anyway—)
She was practically vibrating her hand at this point, fingers squelching in and out of you with sounds so mortifying that if you weren’t experiencing such euphoria perhaps you’d bury your face into her cuss her out for embarrassing you. You, were slurring a made up language made of her name, curse words and just down-right vulgarity as you felt your stomach lock up in that scaldingly familiarly way. Abby chuckled, smug at your babbling, responding with “Yeah?” and “Uh-huh?” until you were clenching hard around her fingers halting their movement slightly, which gave her the green light to move onto “Thats it baby, cum for me. Just getting started with you tonight. Give it to me, pretty girl.”
You went numb, pretty much everywhere but your cunt — something high pitched and feral deafening you through the impending white noise of your orgasm — wait, was that you? You could hardly breathe, and when some feeling returned to you, you felt stickiness all along the inner sides of your thighs and seeping into the rough denim of Abby’s lap below you. Jesus… did she make you—?
“Shit babe, fucking… baptised me there.” She pants, like she was the one that just received an earth shattering orgasm and you collapse against the strong muscle of her shoulder, trying to self soothe— trying to ground yourself. You twitched, her fingers stilling within you at the tell-tale sign of overstimulation. She pulled them out, rubbing her thumb on your bare hip as she pressed her chin to her chest looking down between your bodies, admiring the gooey mess you’d left on her. “Already got a little fountain going on down there baby, we haven’t even been going at it for that long.” She teases with a grin in a way you know is meant to be praise because as soon as you lift your head she’s attacking your hot cheeks with kisses.
“S’embarrassing.” You whimper, despite your small giddy smile and she tsks a little, hand creeping up to your throat, holding your sturdily there.
“If you’re still finding things embarrassing, it’s because I haven’t fucked all those bad thoughts from today out that pretty little head yet. You still want it?” She’s speaking against your lips now, effortlessly pushing her hips up beneath you and rolling her strap into your sensitive cunt again. Is that even a question?
“Still— still want it—”
You weren’t finished speaking, and Abby is moving at the speed of light. She cups your beneath your ass with one hand, still using your delicate neck as her main grabbing point— she twists the two of you, so suddenly you’re on your back and she’s hovering over you, all in one quick succession that makes your head spin. Your back bounces against the bed, bounces you into her and her thumb soothes over your throat. “Hands still working baby?” She kisses the corner of your mouth. You flex your fingers out of her vision, testing.
“Yes.”
“Undo my belt then, pretty.” It’s clear she still needs both of her hands to caress you, so you get to work, shakily reaching for the leather tucked within the denim waistband of her jeans. It’s smooth and feels expensive beneath your fingers, and the sound of the buckle clinking makes you squeeze out more of the residual arousal you’d spewed out only minutes prior. It’s like she can tell it does something for you, because her tough pads of her fingers come and rest on your sensitive clit again, just rubbing slow lethargic circles making it harder to pull the belt out of the loops. “Thats my girl.” She helps you, taking the belt and placing it aside.
She does the rest, because you just weren’t moving efficiently enough for her liking, one hand sliding up your soft arm until she’s pinning your wrist gently to the bed, fingers intertwining with yours, and the other hand deftly unpopping the button of her jeans and sliding the zipper down. She pulls the familiar plastic cock out, adjusting her hips and resting the shaft along your tummy, tip grazing just below your belly button. “Think you’re ready for me now?” She leans forward, nudging your chin with her own to get your lips where she needed to capture them, sucking on your bottom lip barely allowing you to sigh out a pleasured “Uh-huh.” against her.
She sits up, pulling her hoodie off leaving her in just a fitted black wifebeater and the pace of everything changes all of a sudden. It’s less desperate and more purposeful, coming into her dominance and remaining control like she always did. She leant over you, reaching for the lube in the bedside drawer and leant back, drizzling it over the shaft. You reached forward without thinking and massaged it around for her, looking up at her with those big needy puppy dog eyes. She groaned, like you were actually jerking her off — greedily yanking her jersey up to sit above your plush tits for her viewing pleasure.
“Fuck… so pretty… Alright baby, deep breath in for me.”
She looked so good like this, hair stuck to her face and neck, jeans pulled just below her peachy ass being cupped by the ropey black harness. The royal blue plastic glistening as she slides it up and down your willing cunt. Her biceps bulging from holding herself up above you, making you just want to sink your teeth into her. Abby was a work of fucking art.
You follow her instructions, Abby kissing away your strained whimpers at the stretch. It only made sense that Abby Anderson, home to all BDE — was weighed down by a fucking monster of a strap, 7 and a half inches, thick and dark blue with added detail of veins and a fat tip. When you first slept together, after one very successful date, sitting on her lap in that little innocent floral dress that rode up your doughy thighs just right — she thought about calling the whole thing off until she could get her hands on a strap a little smaller and less threatening. Until, of course — your wide and blameless eyes were staring up at her, hand barely wrapping around it as you thickly muttered out a ‘I can take it Abby. Let me take you’, and the rest is obviously history.
She sighed out once she was fully seated in you, like it was a relief, like one day you might not be able to take her fully and she’d have to practise even more self restraint by thrusting in halfsies. You tensed up, suddenly aware of the situation again. A spike of sickly anxiety washed through your stomach. Did you deserve this? After the havoc you caused today? “Pretty girl. Let me in that head.” She whispers and it hypnotises you as she thrusts slowly, just grinding her hips against yours.
“Don’t — mmphm— don’t deserve this.” Your voice is high and a little panicked, and Abby’s eyes open to pin you down with her grounding gaze. She knocks your chin up gently toward her as if to say ‘look at me.’ and she rests her hand over your chest, feeling the hammering of your heart as you very suddenly become overwhelmed.
“Hey.” She drags calmly, raising her eyebrows. You try and relax, copying her breathing because you knew she was about to tell you to do that anyway. “Sweet girl.” She thumbs your cheek. “You deserve every last inch of this fucking cock.” She’s whispering again and you cry, hard. She picks up on what you need, and she presses up deeper into you, making your legs flail before wrapping tightly around her ass, your tits bouncing obscenely to the rhythm of her thrusts. “My perfect girl. Don’t have to worry about anything ever again. Yeah? Gonna fucking… go pro ball, make you my pretty little courtside wife. How’s that sound?” She starts to thrust a bit harder and you’re stunned out of your freak out session, distracted by her words and overcome by pleasure as you just listen. Interested to see where this fantasy will go.
“Yes.” Is all you manage and it’s barely audible but she hears it, and carries on.
“Gonna make it to WNBA for you baby. Not for me. So I can spoil you for the rest of my fucking life.” She grits her teeth, her big rough hands sliding around your back so she can cradle you, use your body to fuck you on and off her cock. You whine, barely aware of the fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. “You wanna give me that baby? Let me buy you every pair of shoes and stupidly priced handbags so you can look pretty for me at every game? Yeah?” Her voice is higher pitched and you think she might cum at some point, but she’s too determined to fuck your lights out completely for any of that.
“W—want that Abs, want you— I want —”
She’s interrupting, not finished with stuffing this fantasy into your brain until there’s nothing there but the manifestation of those thoughts. “You won’t even remember those girls on your cheer squad. They’ll be nobodies. You think I’d ever fucking look at anyone else but you, hm? My pretty little wife?”
Just when you think things can’t get more intense, she’s decided that she’s not physically deep enough — and pushes your thighs up to your chest, knees squishing against your tits as she stretched you, grunting out a “Fuck”, a sign of her losing control for a second. “N’then after every game. Can take you.. fuck, can take you shopping, fly you out wherever you want. Slut you out, just like this. You want that life baby don’t you? You wanna give me that life?” Your brain is muddled, and you can’t tell if you’re begging her or she’s begging you. Your mouth is open, but the air is punched from you and you’re just squeaking like a dog toy and she pounds your little cunt.
She reaches for what seems to be your on button, shoving her thumb between your lifted legs and grinding your abused clit again. “Wanna— wanna be your wife Abby. Want — I wanna—” You’re rambling, and then you’re cumming, harder than you’ve cum in your life. Your throat is raw, nails clawing for something, some kind of life support as she fucks you through your orgasm, breathless and determined. You vaguely feel yourself marking up her skin with your nails, but you’re never fully aware of yourself doing it — always just as shocked and guilty when you see the red streaks across her freckled skin the next morning whilst she’s brushing her teeth in the bathroom with a towel around her waist.
“Good girl. My good fucking girl you take it all. Take what I’m giving you.”
And you do, because when she goes to slow down you’re whining and bucking against her strap— fuck drunk and obsessive, finally getting to that dumb place she needs you to be able to rid of all those negative ideas you had about yourself earlier. She lets you breathe as she thinks about it, thinks about the way you misbehaved and the way you wouldn’t use your words. Maybe there was still more in you, more room for some reinforcement.
That’s why approximately five minutes later you had your cheek to the pillow having been pressed there by the basketball captain herself, Abby’s foot up on the bed and your ass in the hair as she drilled into your weeping pussy.
She pushes your back down, against the protests and your cries and your “Can’t Abs, so deep!” muttering for you to “Just fucking take it, sweet girl. I’m not asking.”
You give in and let her, already feeling yourself close to another animalistic style orgasm which only leaves your heart aching for your peeved neighbours that were probably just trying to sleep.
“You gonna listen next time, huh?” You don’t know how she has the endurance to keep slamming into you like this, wife beater pulled up above her sweat-gleaming abs now to not obstruct her vision of her creamy strap pounding in and out your soft flushed pussy. “You tell me when you fucking need me, yeah? You tell me when you’re feeling a type of way and you need me to reassure you from now on.” She waits a beat, and you wail. “Say yes.” She adds in command.
“Yeees!” You cry.
“Say yes Abby.”
“Yes Abby!”
You’re pretty much on autopilot at this point, brain so empty that all it knows is to do exactly what Abby says at all times, chasing that lingering tight coil in your stomach that whispered ‘cum one more time for her’ in your ear in a saccharine sweet voice that just about convinced you. Adding onto the persuasion, Abby’s weight dropped a little more onto you, hot torso against your back and hips grinding feverishly into you still. “Give me one more then. One more and that’s it baby. Keep being good for me.”
So you do, again, and this one is different from the rest — it’s your last drop, your last spot of energy. You’re weeping and grabbing and you feel it ooze out of you around the punishing blue plastic, and when you’ve done it Abby gets softer, kissing your spine and pulling out, so much praise your brain can’t even register it through your submissive fog.
“Did so good baby. So perfect, angel. Love you so much, my girl.”
She was cleaning you up before you could blink with a cold wet wipe from her bed side draw, practically scooping out endless amounts of your creamy arousal as you whimper at the sensitivity.
“Cold” You whisper, and you’re not sure if it was by choice seeing as you didn’t think you had a voice at that point.
“I know.” She chuckled, voice low and hands gentle— stroking the backs of your thighs as you stay on your front, legs trembling now as the adrenaline dwindles in your body. “Did so good for me. Let’s roll you over.”
She’s kicked off her jeans and her harness, now just in her boxers and wife beater— eyes flickering to your hands tugging at the jersey.
“Want it off. Wanna feel you.” You mumble sleepily once you’re on your back, desperately craving your skin on hers. She cradles your neck as she obliges, slipping the material up and over your head and pulling you into her.
You knew she carried on doting on you after you’d fallen asleep, and truthfully you don’t remember when you fell asleep — somewhere between her wiping you down and peppering kisses across your whole body — but like usual, her strap had knocked you the fuck out, and before you knew it you were waking up, disorientated by the morning sun flooding in through the blinds. Your senses start to arrive back to your body and you note them off like a checklist in your foggy brain. Touch, Abby’s arms locked around your waist. Sight, the blinding laser beam of sun attacking your eyeballs. Smell, Abby. Hearing, Abby. And the birds tweeting.
You roll, twisting in her arms so that your head was tucking beneath her chin against her chest, breathing her in and relishing in the way her skin stayed warm through the night like an electric blanket, unlike your own — cold to the touch from kicking off your side of the duvet.
She’s still fast asleep, always the heavy sleeper and after the game and the party you decide that big girl needs her rest, even if you’re now wide awake and staring at her. She looked like a painting, pouty lips swollen from a night of kissing, honeyed hair still in its braid but totally messed up now, pale blonde baby hairs sticking up and around her face. Her dark lashes kissed beneath her eyes and her chest moved up and down like the slow rocking of a small boat on a calm tide. You smiled when the sun slid further into the sky and created a beam across her eyes, making her scrunch them in her sleep and bury her face into the pillow.
You remember peeing last night now, before you’d fallen asleep — Abby carrying your warm, dazed body to the bathroom and sitting you on the toilet, letting you lean your cheek against her tummy to hold you up as you pee’d, gently shushing your complaints about removing you from the bed.
“S’not good for you to hold your pee after sex, babe.”
“M’sleepy. ‘Don’t care if I get a UFO.”
“UTI. And I care.”
You slowly slide out the bed careful not to wake your girlfriend, on a hunt for your phone. You pull Abby’s jersey back over your head for coverage and tiptoe out the room. Where did you put your bag again? You find it tossed on the couch haphazardly where you left it and fished through it, leaning on the back of her leather couch as you scrolled through. Your thumb tapped the Instagram logo and loaded it up, automatically gravitating towards Abby’s story, displayed at the top of the screen. You pressed it, expecting to see some kind of victory shot of her holding the trophy or a picture with her team, but instead were met with a photo of you that she’d taken when you’d fallen asleep last night— your head turned the other way on the pillow, arms tucked beneath it. Bare back glowing in the dim light of the room, bed covers resting at your waist. The caption reads: ‘Future WNBA wife.’ followed by your @.
Any other day you might gasp, due to the nature of the picture being that — well — it’s clear even to the untrained eye that you’d just been fucked within an inch of your life. But you grin, glowing from the inside out. She was showing you off, indirectly reassuring you even more because she knows you need it. You press a heart on the story, stepping in the direction of the bedroom to attack her sleepy face with kisses— but your eyes catch on the kitchen instead.
The perks of dating someone with such a buff body, was that they always would be stocked up on plenty of food. Not like your dorm, thinking back to the microwave meals and tins of soup stocked up in your kitchen made you grimace. You swung open her refrigerator door, gathering ingredients to whip her up a winners breakfast.
Having made everything from scratch, by the time the breakfast was nearly ready you’d heard Abby stir and climb out of bed, disturbed by the accidental clattering of pots and pans. The water ran for a while, and as you turned off the stove — removing her frying pan of eggs, you’d heard her heavy feet plodding into the room.
You nearly burnt yourself at the sight of her, sweatpants pulled up low on her waist, no shirt, red scratches from your overexcited claws the night before wrapping around her bicep and over her left shoulder, assumably trailing down onto her back, and her hair down — a little damp, falling messily across her small chest. You offered her a small smile as she took in the scene, looking very serious about it too you might add. Turning around back to the chopping board to prepare some turkey bacon for her you felt her crowd you. A shadow casted over you. You were suddenly smaller.
“Makin’ me breakfast? Was I that good?” She rasped, huge hands sliding around your waist — instantly dwarfing you some more.
“Mhm. Breakfast for a winner.” You chirped quietly, too early to be excitable.
“Really leaning into this whole housewife thing aren’t you baby?” She chuckles and your face heats up. Is it that obvious? She presses kisses to the side of your neck, hands grabbing you all over. Involuntarily, you arch your back— pressing your ass into her crotch and she winces.
You freeze up, knife clattering out of your hand onto the wooden chopping board and brows furrowing at the way her fingers tighten around your waist, lips by your temple now. You’re practically pinned to the counter, hands flexed wide on the smooth surface when you grind back against her again experimentally.
She’d never admit it, but last night had left her wanting, which she expected was selfishness considering she vowed to make it all about you. She pulled you back against her, your plush ass beneath just her jersey thumping against her clit again — nothing but that and the material of her sweatpants brushing up against her swollen button. You whimpered a little, not making it better for anyone and found your rhythm, rubbing and humping back on her, feeling her exposed tits against your back. “Like this?” You whine, and tug up the jersey so your bare ass is on display now, just a vessel for Abby to get off on.
“Just like that, pretty.”
The sight makes her push into you a little harder, bending you over the counter when there’s nowhere else to go. She continues humping you, leaning over you and kissing you, curling her toes against the tiles until she explodes into quiet, low gasps and groans— leaking into the grey material as you help her along with encouraging noises.
“Fuck babe, fuckprettygirl— my god.” She pants, leaning over you and pressing a kiss onto your back before tugging your jersey back down with a chuckle after a minute of panting and coming down. “Gonna put me back to sleep.” She gives your ass a loving slap, grabbing the flesh of it in her meaty hand before walking around you to lean against the counter top tiredly. You giggle, shaky hands getting back to food prep as she watches you with fond eyes. “How you feeling? All good?” She analyses, mind still on your series of mini freak out’s the night before.
Your eyes are on the turkey as you continue slicing shyly. “Sore. But all good.”
“Sorry baby.” Her thumb rubs your arm sympathetically.
“No I— I like it. Like feeling you the next day.” You don’t look at her, you can’t, but you know she’s grinning.
“Good.”
She disappears for a minute and reappears with her phone, scrolling, checking notifications. You begin to plate up her breakfast, feeling her hands wrap around your waist again, her phone held by your chest as her chin rests on your shoulder, leaning over you. “Your little friends saw my story of you. Think by now they get the message.” She smirks and you giggle, turning your head to kiss her on the cheek.
“I think so too.”
“If not, I’ll just have to make it clearer, yeah? ‘ll fuck you infront of ‘em if that’s what it takes.”
Your eyes widen as she backs off, going to help you plate up the big breakfast you’d made. You didn’t think that would be necessary anymore, feeling much more secure now but your achey, abused core twitched at the idea anyway— not totally against it.
You’ll pocket that for later.
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hyungszn · 7 months
Text
in loving hands | ft. skz
never have i ever: chapter three
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summary; you continue down a path that you might not recover from. your boys can’t say they mind.
pairing; stray kids | ot8 x reader
rating; m for mature
author’s note; uhm. sorry not sorry for the cliff hanger again?
warnings; dirty talk, degradation, praise, lots of reassurance, wap!reader, author overuses the word ‘little’, daddy!chan makes an unofficial appearance, ring leaders minchan, reader is older than everyone (officially! sorry young folks u can play pretend this once!), pet names (baby, sweetheart, noona [yes i know it’s technically NOT], pup/pet/puppy), objectification but it’s sexy, masturbation (but barely), insecurity, anxiety, 2min are still menaces, jisung is… jisung, dom/sub dynamics, uhm.. i don’t know if i hit it all, so pls let me know if there’s something missing!
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“and good girls crawl.”
the words are like a bucket of ice water on your skin, dousing you in fear when they meet your ears. you know your eyes are comically wide; you can feel your eyelids stinging from the stretch. your brain takes a momentary leave of absence, cogs turning and misfiring as you try to decipher how you feel about such a thing. unfortunately, your mouth is moving before your brain — namely its filters — has properly returned.
“but you’ll see e-everything,” you stammer, eyes fixated just to left of seungmin’s face. “a-all of me,” you finish in a whisper.
seungmin hums, thumb stroking your skin calmly. you look like you might cry, so he wants to be considerate. delicacy is not really his strong suit if he’s being honest, though. not that he’s a particularly rough lover — not physically at least — but his sharp tongue leaves much to be desired in a situation such as this.
“hyung?” seungmin questions to no one in particular, hoping someone will pick up his slack.
chan’s the one to speak, clucking his tongue sympathetically. it catches your attention and your gaze drifts towards his, meeting warm brown. the rising turmoil within you settles just a bit at the look on chan’s face; adoration, lust, patience, and several other emotions you can’t quite place all swirling in his irises.
“you’re in control,” he reminds you, sounding steady and sure despite the spread of carnation pink across his nose and cheeks. “but,” he pauses, tongue swiping over his thick bottom lip, “we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t want to see all of you. if you fear judgement or like, think you’ll turn us off, i can promise you — that is not and will not be the case.”
“chan,” you breathe, stomach swooping with butterflies this time around.
his face pinkens further and out of respect for him, you pretend like you don’t hear the other boys fake gagging around the room.
“so?” seungmin asks, breaking up the shenanigans. “are you gonna crawl like a good girl?”
there’s a teasing lift to the corner of his mouth, a way to let you know that the choice is yours and there will be no hard feelings if you choose otherwise. you swallow heavily, knowing the inside of your thighs are likely caked in slick, thanks to gravity and your own raging desire. crawling will bare it all, wet inner thighs and slick, swollen folds dangled in front of them like a steak to a group of salivating dogs. something about that is thrilling still and you know your decision has been made.
“yes,” you nod shakily, holding seungmin’s intrigued gaze, “i’ll crawl.”
the serious aura of the moment is quickly ruined by the sound of jisung’s pained mewl, the rest of the boys glaring at him harshly or telling him to get a grip.
“i can’t— fuck, i can’t. i swear if i come in my pants, i’ll fucking die.”
“get yourself together, stupid,” minho snaps, “no one gives a fuck if you nut early, as long as you shut the fuck up.”
the bickering gives you the time to slink downwards, only the eyes of hyunjin, seungmin, and chan following you. you place open palms on the floor in front of you, huffing out an unsteady breath. the first stretch of your palm across the plush carpet comes easier than you expected and before you can think twice about it, you are on all fours, skirt dangling just over your asscheeks to leave the entire expanse of your thighs — and everything in between — on display.
your other hand follows easily enough and soon you find yourself crawling across the carpet to the corner where the couch sits. you want to rush through it and get it done quickly, but you don’t. instead, you choose to accentuate the movement of your limbs by stretching your body out slowly like a cat with every advancement. the background chatter dies out so quickly it appears sudden, leaving you to assume that everyone has gotten the memo.
“shit,” comes jisung’s whining once more, “shit, shit, shit. that’s so ho—“ he’s silenced by a loud clap that brings you to a halt, tempted to look behind you to see what happened.
“keep goin’, sweetheart. sungie’s just fine,” felix croons, hand clamped tight over jisung’s rambling mouth.
“yeah,” changbin rasps, loud and uncaring, “don’t stop now, baby, you’re almost there.”
if anyone notices the way your cunt clenches, they say nothing, content to let you carry on without interruption. you do, mind set on the piece of furniture in front of you. there’s a symphony of approving hums coming from behind you, soft whispers of how pretty your pussy is and how inviting your thighs look. you’re sure you’ve left a trail behind you, cunt gushing and dripping with every passing, positive comment. as you come to a stop in front of the sofa, you push yourself up to sit on your knees, head turning to glance back at the group of men you’re now distanced from.
you feel a little silly, face hot with some strange mix of shame and arousal. to lighten the mood for yourself, you’re quick to bend your arms up, curling your wrists to mimic the curl of a puppy’s paws. they all know what’s coming next, but none of them are truly prepared to watch that devilish, wet tongue lull out of your mouth. and when it does, your eyes get really big and you pant loudly, just like a big puppy
“oh, fuck,” felix mumbles.
“got us another puppy, min,” chan hums, nudging his friend with his elbow.
“mm,” minho hums appreciatively, eyes dropping to the swish of your hips as you pretend to wag your tail. “pretty, little pet, ain’t she, channie? we’ll have to get her a pretty leash and collar to match, hm?”
“yeah,” chan agrees, winking in your direction.
“we should get her an actual tail, too,” seungmin gleams, eyes nearly blackened with desire, “something pretty to stuff those cute, slutty holes with when we’re not around.”
this time, it’s you that whimpers. your cute puppy pants dying out as a pout forms on your lips. your eyebrows furrow when no one comes to your aide, all of them nodding along with seungmin instead. your pout intensifies and you turn back around to face the couch.
“traitors, the lot of you,” you sulk, albeit playfully, “see if i show you my pussy again.”
“oh, you will,” jeongin grits, making the hairs on your neck stand up with his tone. the thought of not getting another glimpse of your pretty cunt, not getting a taste, makes him want to snarl. “you absolutely fucking will. now, crawl that pretty ass of yours up on that sofa and spread your pretty thighs for us. for me.”
“down boy!” hyunjin giggles, extinguishing the menacing aura that his friend tried to set. “jealousy’s not your color, yen-ah.”
“maybe not,” minho shrugs, “doesn’t seem like our pup minds much, though,” he finishes with a nod in your direction.
once again everyone turns and there’s a brief moment of silence as they all look you over. there you are, seated up on the sofa with your feet planted and slightly curled over the edge of the cushion. the position calls for you to slouch a bit, back curved so you can part your knees comfortably. between them lies the star of the show: your pussy, in all its swollen, wet glory, practically shining like a damn beacon. you look at them, eyelids heavy and bottom lip rolled in between your teeth, and they all look at each other, silently exchanging something you’re not able to decipher.
then, in true, young-adult-male fashion, chaos ensues.
they trip over themselves and each other in their eagerness to get to you. the sight would be outright hilarious if your cunt wasn’t bare, but as it is, you only giggle shyly, content to watch eight grown ass men fight for a front-row view of your leaking slit. there are limbs everywhere, playful growls, and colorful language filling the room as everyone settles. they gather around like kids under the christmas tree, eager for your pussy like children are for their presents.
they arrange themselves in three rows in front of you. jeongin sits dead center in the front row, flanked by seungmin and felix. behind them, jisung, changbin, and hyunjin peak out from over the shoulders of your front row audience. last row is chan and minho, the only two who are standing, menacing and alluring all the same.
“well,” you say, bringing your thighs together with a loud clap, before letting them fall open again. “you wanted a closer look.”
“hell yeah, i did,” jeongin responds. he’s blushing, red flush tinting his neck and cheeks. “and shit, if it isn’t the prettiest cunt i’ve ever seen.”
“you don’t have to butter me up, you know. i’m already exposed.”
“noona,” he tuts, suddenly feeling parched, “i’m not joking.”
“wanna see inside,” felix blurts, surprised by his own outburst. your focus snaps to him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“w-what? ‘lix.”
“i—,” he huffs, mulling it over before he decides on a slightly different approach. he’s a little too nervous to make the kind of demand he wants, anyways.
“there’s gotta be a pretty clit to go with this pretty pussy, right? so why don’t you show us, yeah? let us see that cute, little clit, noona.”
his deep voice has you near melting, sweet face covered in a lust derived flush that makes his freckles glow. felix makes a perfect picture of innocence, contradictory to all the filth he’s spewing. the effect felix has on you makes you feel like you’ve just sprinted an entire marathon. well, except for the wetness that steadily drips from your entrance, now trickling uncomfortably down the crack of your ass.
“but why stop there?” seungmin challenges. “might as well show us your hole, too.”
“which one?” is out of your mouth before you can blink, mortification making its appearance for the umpteenth time tonight. “oh, god. please forget i—“
“both, if you’re bold enough.”
“you wanna s-see my asshole?” you ask, voice filled with incredulity.
“boy, do i! i’m not shy; i’ll fuckin’ eat that too if you want me to,” jisung says boldly, no shame at all for admitting such a thing.
“me, too,” changbin agrees. “ass. pussy. i honestly don’t care what part of you i’m putting on my tongue so long it’s making you come.”
you scrunch your nose, playing like you aren’t immensely turned on by their words. your expression matters little when you have eight pairs of eyes glued to the apex of your thighs. you can act disgusted all you please, but your throbbing cunt doesn’t lie. it’s the most truthful part of you at this point in time, slicking up and twitching every time you even have a minuscule thought of getting any one of their tongues on your neglected clit. you’re as depraved as the rest of them.
that’s what has you obliging, tucking your skirt around your hips as your hands slip between your legs. you rest one on either side of your lips, blunt nails digging into your own flesh. your skin is tacky with the proof of your arousal, fleshy thighs feeling hot and pliable under your fingers. you walk your fingers across the puffy folds of your cunt before pressing firmly and spreading them outwards, revealing more swollen, wet flesh to your audience.
looking down, you can see everything they can and there, resting in the center and glistening, is your clit. it peaks from beneath its hood slightly, giving away how turned on you are. it’s practically second nature for your index finger to drop down and circle the bud once, then twice, before you tap at it softly, a satisfied mewl crawling out of throat at the stimulation.
a soft, clicking noise rings out when the pad of your finger swipes through the pool of slick just below it, where it fills the space between your inner labia and you don’t think twice before you’re dragging that same wetness up, swiping it over your clit. touching yourself after being teased so much has you sighing softly, sinking into the bit of pleasure like you aren’t in a room full of people. in fact, you almost forget that you’re being watched. almost.
“tsk, tsk. bad girl, pretty,” minho scolds, eyes dark as he looks at you. you startle, the movements of your finger coming to a stop.
“i don’t remember anyone giving you permission to touch yourself,” chan follows, perfectly manicured eyebrow raising, “touching your cunt is solely reserved for us now.”
“b-but,” you stammer, saddened by the loss of stimulation.
“nah,” one shake of his head has any further protest dying on your lips, another pout forming instead. “i think we’ve played around with you long enough. you lost the right to do what you wanted to that pretty pussy the instant you accepted min’s proposal. any attention that needy cunt gets is gonna be from us. the only way you’ll come, is if one of us allows it.”
your brain short-circuits; something about the way your oldest friend says it — straight faced and controlled, more dominant than you ever thought he’d be — has a hazy veil of submission settling into your bones.
“channie? a-allow?” you question, whimpering when your cunt clamps down around nothing, more wetness dripping out for all eight of them to see.
“some of us are a bit more — shall i say, lenient, than others,” he tells you.
well. you’ve gathered that. it isn’t hard to tell which of them are more versed in the darker tastes of sexual deviance. you can’t say you’ll enjoy having to ask for permission, but then again, if it’s the difference between being denied and getting to come, you’ll beg to the heavens if you have to.
“i’ll be good,” you promise, tongue feeling heavy between your teeth. “i’ll be good for you, channie,” you tell him, squirming in place while your eyes jump from man to man. “i’ll be good for all of my,” you pause, brain tripping over the unsure syllables of your next word, “namdongsaeng.”
there are several groans at hearing your breathy, unsure voice speak in their native tongue and nearly all of them reach to adjust their dicks. this has your demeanor turning coy once again, batting your lashes and pushing your ass closer to edge of the cushion. it’s almost like you’re offering up your eager, little cunt to them, chin tucked to your chest and eyelashes fanning over your cheeks like something straight out of their wet dreams.
“will— will you all be good to me, too?”
the fact that you asked if they’d be good to you rather than for you, doesn’t go unnoticed. your blatant acknowledgment that, at least for tonight, you are strictly in the submissive role has each of them ten times more aroused than anything else you’ve done. a pretty, older girl who’s willing and ready to let her younger friends show her the art of good head? talk about a power trip, even for the ones who play both ends depending on their mood.
a hand wraps around your ankle, warm skin and metal of the wearer’s rings making you shiver. the eager desperation in jeongin’s eyes is enough to have your clit buzzing, desperate for attention. he briefly turns to look at chan and minho where they stand, like he’s asking for permission and the thought of them all possibly together in a way that is more than friendly has your head spinning.
you wonder briefly: do they ever cross the lines of their friendship in the same way they’re choosing to do with you?
“mmm, no more thinking, pup,” chan orders. “go ahead and turn that little brain of yours off now, baby. promise you won’t need it.”
“yeah,” minho nods, “let us have the reigns now. we’ll take real good care of you, noona. won’t we?”
“of course!” follows from some, while an enthusiastic, “yeah!”, follows from others.
“then i guess there’s only one thing left to do now, huh?” minho asks, looking dead at you.
you nod, anticipation riding high even though you already know what’s coming. chan and minho’s words have pulled more slick from you, thoughts flying out of your head the second you’re told you don’t need to think anymore. you know you’re in good hands.
“alright then! so who thinks he’s lucky enough to have first dibs?”
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©️ hyungszn 2023; please do not copy, steal, repost, modify, translate, or recommend on any other platform without my permission!
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fanficwritersworld · 1 year
Text
The Way He Looks At Her
Summary: You can never say no to your best friend
Pairing: Eli Hale x McCall!Reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: FLUFFF
A/N: Derek doesn't die in any teen wolf imagines of mine. Stydia is strong and so is Thiam. Hikari gets justice and so does Kira
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"No!"
Eli pouted at you with his brown eyes, hands clasped together ready to go on his knees. You bit the inside of your lip, crossing your arms at him. "Please N/N, just this once?" Eli squeaked at you.
"You said that the first time and we both got grounded. I'm not pissing off my grandma again. I just got ungrounded" You reminded him, turning to leave the auto shop. Eli grabbed your arm, stopping you.
"I swear if we get caught I'll take the fall" Eli promised you looking you dead in the eye. You closed your eyes before letting out a sigh. "I swear Hale you're gonna be the death of me" You caved in.
Eli jumped before pulling you into a hug. "You are not gonna regret this" He smiled kissing your cheek then racing out the door. You stood there for a moment, in total shock.
"N/N! You coming!" Eli called, stopping you from overthinking the gesture.
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You bopped your head to the music as Eli drove you two on the empty road. You stared at the scenery, never seeing Beacon Hills like this. Usually, your Dad would drive you out on his motorcycle so this luxury wasn't always given. With the window down, you closed your eyes listening to the many sounds Beacon Hills had to offer.
Eli looked at you as if you were an angel sent from above. You seemed so relaxed as your hair gently moved with the wind. Your head rested against the jeep as you used it to hold your head.
Your peaceful drive was halted with the sound of tires bursting caught your attention before the jeep stopped. Eli looked at you with shocked eyes. 'Dads' you mouthes before the two of you exit the jeep.
You immediately noticed your father's cycle. 'Oh crap' you thought before walking up behind Eli. With their claws out, Scott McCall and Derek Hale stood before the teens. "We're not paying for those" Eli stated, subconsciously grabbing your hand.
"Yes, you are" Derek told him as he retracted his claws. Scott nodded in agreement as he gave you a pointed stare. "Okay, just don't be mad at N/N, I made her come with me" Eli pleaded with his godfather.
You looked down with a blush on your face. You focused on your hands intertwined before your father called you. You gave Eli a small smile before walking towards your Dad. "We'll take later" He told you/
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You huffed as you closed your door. Ground for two weeks, just great. You're gonna miss the big lacrosse tournament. You didn't play but you liked to support Eli.
Eli.
Why the fuck did he have to hold your hand? Or kiss your cheek. Why did he take the fall for both of you stealing the jeep? Why is he trying to climb in your window?
You took a double take before realising that your friend was outside your window, struggling to move from the tree to the ledge. You quickly opened the window, stretching out your hand. He quickly grasped onto your hand before he fell through your window, causing both of you to fall to the floor.
Eli stared down at you with his adorable brown eyes, a light blush painted on his cheeks. "Hey" He chuckled, his warm breath making you blush harder than him. "Hey" You answer back, unsure what to say.
After a moment, Eli moved back allowing you to sit up. "You know my Dad is downstairs" You stated, still feeling the heat on your face. "He left like ten minutes ago while you were pouting" Eli smirked at you. You punched his shoulder playfully, your eyes glowing yellow for a moment.
"I do not pout!" You huffed at him. "Yes you do" Eli laughed as you unknowingly were pouting at him. You quickly changed your face to a dramatic scowl. "No I don't"
You defended, stepping close to Eli.
“Yes, you do!” "No, I don't"
Another step forward
“Yes, you do!” "No, I don't"
Another step forward
“Yes, you do!” "No, I don't"
This time there was little to no space between you. His nose was brushing the bridge of yours. Screw puberty. Eli grinned as his hair tickled your skin. “You, Y/N McCall mostly definitely pout” Eli stated like a fact straight from a book. “No, Elijah Hale I most definitely do not” You stated back closing the small space between you. Eli’s eyes drifted from your eyes to your lips for a moment. “I can prove it” He told you.
You raised your eyebrow at him. “Really?” You asked him a small smirk on your face. “Yeah” He smirked back. Eli placed his lips on yours, his fingers gently brushing your jawline. You felt lightheaded until you felt him start pulling back. Instinctively you growled, grabbing his flannel and pulling him closer.
Your lips moved against his as you felt a familiar rush of power. Eli’s hands were softly placed on your cheeks, trying to keep you as close as possible. Soon enough, you both pulled back for air. Eli watched as your yellow eyes returned to their normal colour. He looked at you like you were the only person who mattered in the whole world. “You still pout though” He whispered with a cheeky grin. You rolled your eyes at him before your eyes glowed again. “Shut up” You warned him.
“Make me” He pushed before crashing his lips against yours once more.
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You and Eli sat on your bed, cuddled up as Star Wars played on your laptop. Your head rested on his collarbone as one hand fidgeted with one of his. Eli rested his chin on your head, listening to your heartbeat instead of the movie. You looked up at him, biting the inside of your cheek. “Eli?” You whispered, catching his attention. “Yeah?” He answered back looking down at you. You sat up turning to face him. “Show me” You demanded him.
“What?” He asked you, confused by your question. “Your eyes, show me them” You explained, allowing your own to glow. Eli hesitated but did the same, watching as you let out a soft smile. “Why do you want to see my eyes?” He asked you. “Because I wanted you to know that when I look at you, I don’t see a Hale werewolf” You told him. “What do you see?” Eli asked her.
“I see a boy who never lets me fall, never makes me sad, who is definitely leaving high school with a grand theft auto charge and the boy who makes me feel a love I never felt before” You smiled at him. Eli was quick to kiss you gently.
“I love you” He whispered.
“I love you too”
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dearshelby · 10 months
Text
The noose | T.S
Summary: Tommy's wife returned home after the failure of his plan got the whole family arrested. The way they deal with her trauma ends up sending her to a worse place.
A/N: This is part of an OC story and definitely not the most comforting reader insert fic 😅 however, I had much fun exploring this scenario and I hope you enjoy the reading as much as I enjoyed writing it!
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The feeling of the noose around her neck still haunted her. At that moment, all she thought about was her family, Rose was a daddy's girl, she would be fine eventually, but what about Violet? What about Tommy? What about her brother and mother? What about Finn?
What about Polly? The woman was side by side with her, tears ran down her face as she muttered a prayer and there was nothing Y/N could do, except hoping that her in-laws on the cells aside met a better ending.
With a deep breath, she revisited the past, the smell of Grace's hair as she held the spy from behind, the sound of the train coming and the bitter taste on her tongue, reminding her Tommy that could be dead by then, that if she let Grace go, the agent would certainly reach for the gun a few steps away. Her only choices were to kill or die.
Then, the saving yell came, a desperate guard who didn't truly care for the Shelbys' life and was only complying with the king's order of setting the family free.
As they met again in the hallway of jail, no words were said. Polly cried in Michael's arms while Arthur and John hugged each other. Y/N stood there, speechless, waiting for someone to cross the door and hold her too, but no one did.
Somehow, she knew they also blamed her, because she should've talked Tommy out of the russians' business, because she should've given a warning before their arrest. She wished she had then, if she only hadn't choked on her own fear, perhaps their forgiveness would come easily.
On the way out, a driver waited for her, Y/N scoffed at the realization Tommy was too ashamed to face her. She wondered if he still blamed the stupid cursed sapphire for all their misery.
Finally, she was home again, Rose and Violet ran to their mother's arms, crying about how much they missed her. Tommy watched the scene from afar with too many words stuck in his throat, if he was able to kneel and apologize, it still wouldn't erase the guilt he felt.
After Y/N promised she'd never leave again, the children left her alone and she had to encounter her husband. However, while he had too much to say, she had nothing.
The truth was that Tommy always had too much to say, he was a clever, eloquent man, no one ever struggled in maintaining a conversation with him because his views of life were beyond intriguing. The war had taken away his will to speak, but his mind was still a powerforce capable of generating the most fascinating speeches.
On the other hand, Y/N carried herself silently, preferring to show than tell. Every time Tommy spoke about politics, science, religion or even boring mundane tasks, she paid close attention, not bothering to hide the adoration in her eyes. She believed displaying genuine interest was more flattering than attempting to engage in the conversation.
Standing at the entry of the house, they remained silent and silently the days went by. No talks about what happened, no apologies, no touches or significant looks. Everything went back to normal as they ignored the elephant in the room.
That lasted until a particularly warm night, the children were in bed, all the windows were open and many watch dogs guarded the garden. The summer was coming and Y/N decided to welcome it by getting a new style, joining the new fashion of haircuts above the shoulders, as if a new external could cease the mess in her head.
That night no comments were made about her sudden change, everyone sensed the tense atmosphere including herself, who was in desperate need of relaxing, then the idea popped in her head, she needed a bath.
Heading to the bathroom, she denied the maids' offers of help, aware that she regenerated better alone. She filled the bathtub with cold water and enough soap to make bubbles.
The sudden temperature change sent a shiver down her spine, the blood running on her veins matched summer and took a while to cool up. Resting her head on the tub's edge, Y/N closed her eyes trying to focus on the delicious smell of lavender soap.
However, her heart beated fast and her chest held a tight feeling, as if someone was stepping on her, crashing her ribs and making it hard to breathe.
Her jaw clenched as she ran hands through her recently cut hair, the strange feeling persisted and the blood traveled to her face, heating up her cheeks.
Ignoring the situation, she took deep, slow breaths and rationalized the symptoms. She had an awful couple of months, her body must've been too warm when she got into the cold water. That was all, it would pass.
In the frustrated attempt to calm down, Y/N conjured happy memories. The night her and Tommy celebrated the first legal betting license. Their first honeymoon night and how delighted she was to be officially his wife. When they moved in and inaugurated the house by spending the night together in the bathtub.
Everything with the same Tommy she hadn't spoken to in weeks, the same Tommy she had killed for, the same one to send her to the noose.
The rope squeezed her braid and neck together, Polly's silent prayer was all to be heard, but God wouldn't save them, what would happen next? Was it all done? Would she wake up somewhere else? Was the sapphire really cursed? What now? She wasn't dead but she couldn't breathe,
She couldn't breathe…
She couldn't breathe…!
Y/N opened her eyes, noticing her cheeks wet with tears, gasping for air, her shaky hands grabbed the bathtub's edge in a quick impulse to stand up. Water drops trickled from her naked body making a mess on the bathroom's floor, the dogs were barking outside and her sight was getting dark.
Clumsily, she managed to reach for her robe, covering herself with the soft piece of clothing. The tears still came out as her legs got weak, holding onto the walls, she supposed she bumped on something because maids were knocking on the door, "Is everything alright, Mrs. Shelby?"
Y/N recognized Frances' voice, unable to answer, she shrunk her legs and pressed her lips together.
"I think we should call Mr. Shelby," another maid suggested.
Despite feeling weak, her feet moved rhythmically, quick with the energy the rest of her body was lacking. In a matter of seconds, Tommy called for her.
"Y/N, are you alright in there?" the worry in his tone was clear, "Y/N, I need an answer even if you don't want to talk to me!"
Gulping, she brushed off her wet cheeks and sobbed, "Tommy?"
"Y/N, are you alright?"
"...no,"
Everything got silent, the fear was slipping away as she heard the door unlocking. The extra keys, every single door in the house had extra keys. Tired and confused, she remained still.
Tommy rushed to her, it was his turn to panic, he kneeled to her level looking for injuries. Not finding any, he worried even more.
"What the fuck happened?" he sat her up, "The fuck happened, love?"
Ashamed, she stared at the floor, a knot formed on her throat with the urge of crying again, "I don't know- I don't know- I-"
She sobbed, shrugging off. He immediately pulled her to his chest, not caring if her wet hair would ruin his shirt, "No, no, no, it's alright, eh? You're alright, I got you now,"
Words were unnecessary for Tommy to acknowledge he was the root of her suffering. He knew how badly he fucked up and seeing his wife like that was the worst punishment ever. Worse than his family's hatred, worse than the possibility of her leaving him, worse than himself being hanged.
Together at bathroom's floor, they grieved her near death. Not all the money, cars or jewels they had could fix the damage, perhaps not even time could, a scar would remain forever regardless of her forgiving him or not.
Feeling her snuggled into him, Tommy muttered, "We need to talk,"
Fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt, she quietly answered, "I think we do."
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MASTERLIST
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sserpente · 9 months
Text
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A/N: Request from anon. Fluffy skinny dipping with Loki. Tell me something better than that, I’ll wait. Enjoy, everyone!
Words: 2568 Warnings: skinny dipping, implied smut, fluff
The air in Asgard smelled different. Fresher. Richer. You took a deep breath, inhaling not only oxygen but also that foreign Asgardian vibe. Summer felt a hundred times more intense around here. The heat was on the verge of unbearable, the glistening water right outside the palace inviting you for a swim to cool down. The whole planet felt like an Instagram filter—like someone had turned up the contrast, the saturation and the brightness all at the same time.
“How do you cope in this heat?” you complained, fanning air to your face with your right hand. You were sat in the lower parts of the palace with Thor’s friends Volstagg, Hogun and Fandral and of course, Lady Sif.
Odin had commanded you remained under supervision at all times. You didn’t quite understand what the fuss was about—it wasn’t like a mere Midgardian could wreak havoc among this realm but then again, he was probably just traumatised from the time Thor brought an Aether-infected Jane to Asgard a few years back.
But the company wasn’t so bad, especially upon learning new things about Asgardian culture. One person was missing though. You’d hardly seen Loki since your arrival even though it had been him to promise to keep you safe.
Boom—it had been like a heartbeat, like an explosion and just like that, you had fallen in love with the God of Mischief. It had started with a crush. A purely physical attraction that made you see beyond the things he had done on Earth all those years ago. Then you had gotten to know him and witnessed his wit and sarcasm day in and out. Soon, you began to see past the cheekiness and mischief until you had discovered a vulnerable god who would die for the ones he loved, an intelligent and kind man who might not have been a superhero and leaned toward a little selfishness every now and then but a good man nonetheless.
Loki had never been evil and you were now determined to convince everyone else of that mind-set as well. Especially now that you had been brought to Asgard for your own safety.
“It’s not so bad down here. I feel sorry for Idunn and her workers. The apple orchard is a sauna at this time of the day but the work won’t do itself.”
“First of all… you have saunas on Asgard? And second of all, if this is a realm of magic, why is there any labour at all?”
Volstagg’s cheeks reddened as he fought to explain it to you. “Well, let’s just say Idunn’s apples are special. They require skilled hands to handle them.”
“Right…” With a court nod, you emptied the rest of your drink and carefully put it back on the table—like hell you would smash it to the ground and scream “Another” like Thor and his friends did.
“Where’s Loki, actually?” you asked, attempting to sound non-chalant.
“Who knows? Causing some mischief somewhere probably. I for my part am glad I don’t have to see his face.”
“He’s been nothing but kind to me so far, Volstagg.”
“Hmm…” Hogun began, “He’s like a flesh-eating plant. He lures you in and then traps you in his claws. Be careful. We have known Loki for a lot longer than you.”
“Maybe you guys should stop giving him reasons to stab you in the back. Think about that.” Checkmate. That shut them up for a good minute.
You sighed. Well, in the end, you’d likely have a lot more work to do for them to accept the cheeky God of Mischief for who he was and why he behaved the way he did, it seemed.
“If you say so… I’m gonna go find him.”
“You can’t wander through the palace alone.”
You chuckled. “Watch me. I know where Loki’s chambers are. And I promise to scream if I’m getting murdered.”
“You shouldn’t joke about things like that,” Hogun insisted.
“I’m trapped on a different planet surrounded by gods. If I don’t joke about it, I’m gonna lose my mind.”
“I am still going to escort you.”
You rolled your eyes. Always obey Odin. “Fine.” Hogun wasn’t very talkative, at least.
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It was a lot cooler in the palace—but then again, sacrificing a wonderful day that you could spend swimming and tanning and exploring to hide within some palace walls wasn’t all that appealing.
“Loki? Are you there?” Hogun was waiting around the corner with his hands clasped behind his back when you knocked.
Silence. You cleared your throat. “Loki, your hearing is a thousand times better than mine, I know you can hear me.”
A pleasant shiver ran down your spine when you heard a dark chuckle behind the door. A sliver of magic tore through the heavy wood of his door and it swung open, revealing him sitting in the shade on his bed with a book on his lap.
You blinked. He was dressed so casually. Bare feet, a green and soft-looking shirt with sleeves ending right below his elbows and wide black trousers reminding you of a comfy pyjama. Summing up, he looked hot.
“What are you doing here?” He was practically purring when he spoke your name, pulling a pleasant shiver from you. Something told you that Loki knew you were absolutely infatuated with him and boy, was he having fun with it. You sighed, letting it go for now. It was too hot to complain.
“I want to go swimming.”
“You want to go swimming?” Loki frowned at his book as if you’d suggested going rollerblading on the Bifrost bridge. Although… that actually sounded like a fun idea as well.
“Yes, Loki. It’s summer, it’s hot and I am melting. You’re a Frost Giant, how on Earth do you cope?”
“By staying inside where it’s cool, reading and most importantly, keeping my mouth shut.”
You grunted, closing the door behind you. “I’m gonna pretend like I was unable to take the hint to leave you alone. What are you reading?”
This time, it was Loki who sighed.
“Why don’t you ask Thor and his foolish friends? Are they giving you trouble?” he asked instead of responding to your question.
“No. Just… Because I want to spend time with you. And because they’re boring, obeying every single word the oh-so-allmighty-Odin says.” You threw your hands to demonstrate how ridiculous you found the whole situation.
Finally, Loki looked up from his book, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “What makes you think that I won’t?”
“Please. You are the God of Mischief. And rules are made to be broken, right? You remember that pretty lagoon west of the Bifrost Bridge that you told me about? The one with the cave? I want to go there. Please, Loki. Pack your book and let’s go. If I’m on a different planet, at least I want to explore it a little.”
Loki considered you for a moment, almost as if he was trying to figure out whether you were just mocking him. Then, finally, he shut his book and elegantly stood from the bed. “Very well. Let’s go.”
His smile was genuine—it had to be. His book vanished into thin air the very moment his door swung open again.
“Quick. Before Hogun realises we are not really headed to the kitchens for a cool drink.”
Loki escorted you through one of the servants’ exits to avoid the guards and more importantly, Thor and his friends. The earthy path was steep as you followed him down further and further away from the palace until you reached the shore and the ground to your feet turned into warm sand.
A small boat was swaying in the water, tied to a rock in the sand with a thick rope. Loki, however, did not make a move toward it. Instead, he offered you his hand. Intrigued, you took it. Next thing you know, he transformed into an eagle, his talons gripping your hand tightly.
You cheered when you took off and he flew across the water towards the lagoon, your naked toes grazing the cool ocean water in the process. The landing, a few minutes later, was smooth and then, just like that, Loki’s eagle aspect disappeared again.
“That was incredible! Can you turn me into an eagle as well?”
“Potentially. It takes years to master transfiguration like this. Your body would have to adjust to the new form and you would have to learn how to fly. If I transformed you now, you would quite possibly drown.”
“Right.” You turned around, taking in your new surroundings. The lagoon was stunning. It looked like the inside of a volcano, a hollowed-out rock with a pond with the clearest sea water you had ever seen in the middle. Vines, trees, and flowers all grew around it, spreading a lovely scent, and the small cave at the opposite end looked like the perfect spot for camping. The waterfall was by far the best part of it all though. It was gushing and loud, drowning out all noise from the outside and reverberating within the lagoon.
“This is beautiful. How come no one ever comes here?”
“Well… Asgardians are not too keen on swimming. Most of them never even learn it unless they’re training to fight battles. It is considered impure and in some cases, disrespectful to swim in open waters.”
Loki waved his hand, letting a dark green picnic blanket appear in the sand that mixed with green grass where you stood. Along with it, he conjured up a golden plate full of grapes, apple slices, strawberries and other fruit you didn’t recognise. He sat down on it with his book in hand.
It was then you realised you didn’t actually have any swimwear.
“What? Why is that?”
“Ah, well, you see, according to our lore, the giant Ymir was slain so the worlds could be built. His brains became the clouds, his bones became the mountains and his blood became the oceans.”
“Are you trying to tell me I’m about to swim in someone’s blood?”
Loki chuckled. “Something like that.”
You suppressed a grin. Should you? It was only the two of you here after all. And what sent a clearer signal for “I like you, I’m attracted to you and I want to have sex with you” than skinny dipping? You shrugged your shoulders. You were on a different planet. Things couldn’t exactly get any crazier from here.
You pulled off your shirt and then peeled yourself out of your shorts. Your bra came off first after that. With your back turned to Loki, you could still practically feel his blue eyes boring into you. By the time you stepped out of your knickers and revealed your arse to him, he sucked in air so loudly you could even hear it over the waterfall.
Unceremoniously and gathering all of your swimming training from your school days, you dived head-first into the clear water as gracefully as you could muster. The water was divine. It was cool and salty enough for you to float without too much effort and the little fish you saw swimming past you didn’t even seem to be scared of you. You’d have to ask Loki for some fish food for them.
“I could have conjured you some swimwear, you know.” His blue eyes were glued to you. You grinned, swimming in his direction. The clear water did very little to conceal you and it was even clearer that the God of Mischief was having a hard time not to look down.
“And where would have been the fun in that? What are you doing, come in! It’s lovely! I dare you,” you added. “Oh no, whatever will all those fancy royals at the palace say if they find out one of their princes is skinny dipping with a peasant?” Dramatically, you brought the back of your hand to your forehead and then disappeared underwater for a moment.
When you emerged, Loki was standing and taking off his clothes. Yes.
“Last time I caused an uproar, I was in the middle of a feeble attempt at taking over Midgard. They’ll be relieved to hear I have resorted to less scandalous activities.”
Seeing Loki shirtless was quite possibly the highlight of your entire day. But he didn’t give you much time to drool over his muscly pale chest and those strong arms. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. When those comfy trousers came off, he was naked and damn, was he glorious even in a flaccid state. You didn’t even bother pretending not to stare.
Loki smirked and then, much more gracefully than you, dived into the pond. He looked downright gorgeous with wet hair when he emerged only a few inches away from you, so much so that you almost forgot to keep yourself afloat.
“Cat got your tongue? You aren’t going to back out now, are you?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Loki.” For a split second, playing Marco Polo with him crossed your mind but now that you had him naked in the clear water, you could think of more… adult activities.
“Can I ask you something?” You just needed some confirmation first. He’d promised to keep you safe but did that mean he reciprocated your feelings? Not necessarily, right?
Loki raised his eyebrows at you—in a gentle, teasing manner this time.
“Why did you agree to come here with me? I mean… the others… they’d never let me be alone with you. If they knew, they’d drag me out by the hair. Or you, whoever they manage to grab first. I guess… after everything that happened between you and the entire planet Earth, I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with a human beyond a genuine promise to make up for the past.”
Loki’s face fell.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
He shook his head. “You did not. Let’s just say I forgot for a moment that you are mortal.”
Oh. “Is that bad?”
“I will have outlived you in a matter of decades. So yes. That is bad, pet.” Pet. You sincerely hoped he wasn’t able to hear the moan that escaped your lips. “I am not a villain. And it took a lot of convincing to make me realise that. So why would I not? I have no reason to meet you with hostility if you don’t either.”
You smiled at him. “That’s what I told them today, you know? That you wouldn’t have betrayed them if they hadn’t given you a reason to do so. And… That just means we’ve gotta make use of the time that we have even more, no?”
With that, you took the leap. You leaned forward, clung to him like a monkey and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your naked skin against his felt heavenly, even more so underwater. You kissed him as if your life depended on it, teeth clashing, tongues battling… your entire being lost itself in Loki, how good he tasted and how skilled of a kisser he was.
When you broke apart, you were both out of breath and a little surprised by what had just happened. Your eyes fell on his swollen lips.
“Admit it,” you whispered.
“What?”
“Admit it. You like me.”
Loki chuckled. “I wouldn’t put up with you if I didn’t, pet.”
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A/N: Come say hello on my blog for more Imagines and my novels! ♥
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moyazaika · 1 year
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Your new drabble event seems so fun! I can’t wait to see what you come up with!
Now, as I was reading through the prompts, prompt 12 “Don’t act like you’re so innocent. You made me this way” caught my eye, and I feel as though it’d go really well with either the yan king or Feroze — I can’t decide between the two, so I’ll let you choose which one ;))
Have a good day!
yandere! king x rebel! reader
hiii nonnie!! tysm <3 hope u have a good day too !!
drabble event entry 002 — yandere king + “don’t act like you’re so innocent, you made me this way.”
he beckons you forward with a lithe finger adorned in only the most precious jewels.
you don’t move an inch, and at your resistance, a slow smile creeps up on his lips, albeit not quite reaching his dark eyes, as they trail over the expensive robes he’s draped you in, the glittering diamonds and pretty flowers.
even now, he’s above you, effortlessly draped over his throne as if he has never belonged anywhere else, and he never has, if it isn’t evident by the crown he wears, it’s startlingly oblivious in the power that surrounds him in the armies he commands, the numerous nations he has under his beck and call.
you hate the king. you hate his empire. you hate yourself, but most of all: you hate how he merely sighs, the sound a mockery of disappointment despite the amusement you know he feels, can see in the way he leans forward ever so slightly and tilts his head to the side. “come here, darling rebel,” he says, almost wearily. “i find myself wanting desperately for your sweet promises of retribution and ruin.”
you’ve played this game enough times to know the threat in his voice, despite the words that go unsaid. you look up at him, marvel at the fact that every time you enter this grand throne room, you leave feeling smaller than you’d previously been. every step up to his throne is torture, your footsteps echoing off the grand walls, intricately carved gargoyles peering down at you and silently laughing.
“i hate you.” you tell him, as he pulls you onto his lap, buries his face in the crook of your neck and breathes you in. “you’re going to die by my dagger, your majesty. i won’t rest until your empire is destroyed and your crown is nothing more than a trophy.”
his lips curl against your skin, “how i missed this.” the king whispers, hands around your waist, even when yours are at his throat.
it dawns on you then, like it has a million times before, that he’s enjoying this. that he deems these promises of revenge and rebellion as sweet nothings, a grotesque love letter steeped in morbid affection and the blood of entire armies, for a twisted king — but a lover’s words nonetheless.
“you’re a monster.” you whisper, because it’s all you can do not to snap his pretty neck right there and then, and you would have too, if you weren’t so sure he would have enjoyed it: would have wanted nothing more than utter ruination from you. has come to expect it, if not long for it.
something in his demeanour shifts at your words. your breath catches in your throat, heart thundering in your ears as the king’s eyes darken and a cruel smile plays on his lips, “don’t act like you’re so innocent, lovely nemesis.” he presses a kiss to your jaw, “you made me this way. you drive me crazy. so if anyone is the monster here, if we’re playing this game,” his lips curl against your skin. “shouldn’t it be you to blame?”
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thebestofoneshots · 8 months
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Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader
Series Masterlist | Previous episode
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Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.2 K Warnings: none Prompt: You're finally settling down at Hogwarts, friendships strengthen and crushes blossom, sometimes on the most unexpected places. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.
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Chapter 6: “Crazy little Thing Called Love” 
You rose, scanning your surroundings, the inky dark made it hard for you to see anything. It took a whole minute for your eyes to adjust. You saw trees all around you, as you took a single step forward, an unsettling crack echoed beneath your heel. You looked down only to realise it was the bone of a very small animal, a fox perhaps. You shivered at the thought. 
Another step and a haunting howl sliced through the air, piercing your ears. Its resonance was powerful, sharp, and it reverberated deep within you, whatever monster was making that sound, it was close. 
You tried to find a hiding spot but it was futile, whatever that monster was, it had already caught your scent, its primal instincts honed in on you, and you could hear it getting closer and closer. And then, it was there, right in front of you, its predatory gaze calculating which part of you it would feast on first.
“H-Hey, It’s ok, it’s me,” you stammered, a desperate attempt to reason with it, which, in all honesty, made no sense, still you clung to the idea that perhaps that would appease the beast. 
Bad idea, it didn’t. It just growled back and lunged at you. You crashed back on the ground, next to the rest of the bones you had unwittingly shattered moments ago. It had a choking hold on you, robbing your breath. You heard another growl, coming from a different place when your vision started to fog, you felt like you were going to die.
“Wake up!” You heard, and suddenly opened your eyes, trying to fight the creature still, but Lily was there instead of the monster. “It’s ok,” She told you, placing her hands over your forearms that sought desperately to defend you still, “it was only a dream luv.” 
You finally took a deep breath, grounding yourself. Of course, it was only a dream. Hogwarts didn’t have those kinds of monsters. You took a deep breath and looked at Lily “Did I wake you?” 
She shook her head “I woke up to go to the restroom. I noticed you were struggling in bed, that’s why I came to wake you.” 
You gently placed your hand over her forearm, using her to reassure yourself, she was indeed real. Eventually you smiled at her “Thank you,” you said in all honesty “I’m truly grateful I met someone like you here.” 
She smiled back at you “No problem, I’m here for you, for anything, all right?” You nodded in response. “Want me to stay with you for a little while?”
You shook your head “It’s all right, I’m a lot calmer now, thanks to you. You can go back to sleep, I wouldn’t want to be the reason dear Miss Evans is sleepy in the morning.” 
She laughed at that and nodded, reluctantly leaving you, as if she wasn’t sure if you were actually better or just telling her to go as if not to be a bother, which to her, you weren’t at all. 
Once you were alone again you continued to take deep breaths. Nightmares were not something you had all that often, you didn’t quite know how to deal with them, so you stared at the ceiling until you finally managed to fall back asleep. 
You woke up earlier than everyone again and went down to the common room with flying gear. James arrived sometime later, and Sirius minutes afterwards, complaining “It’s raining Prongs, can’t we just sleep in instead?” 
James gave Sirius a stern look in response “You’re coming today too!” He acknowledged with a smile once he noticed you were there. 
“Well I’m not getting any special treatment even if I know the Captain of the Quidditch team so I’ve got to be in top shape for the tryouts,” you replied with a smug smile. 
He smiled back, clearly amused by your answer “All right, let’s go then. We’re doing evasion today.” 
The three of you went out and did some laps around the castle. This time James had taken out a blodger and you were beating it back and forth. Once you were done you went back to the common room and changed into your uniform. Your hair was still wet when you arrived at your first class. 
“Good morning everyone, my name is Horace Slughorn, I’ll be your potions teacher, please grab a piece of paper from the hat,” he said as he passed a small wizard hat turned upside down for everyone to grab a paper. Once you opened yours you saw Lily’s name appeared on it.
James, who stood right behind you leaned over your shoulder and walked to face you, leaning over to whisper “Switch with me, will you?” 
You frowned and looked up at him, he had this hopeful puppy-eyed look going on, it made you gasp in surprise “You like Evans!” You teased, in a whisper too. 
He looked to the side but then nodded, looking back at you with the same golden retriever look “Pretty please?” 
You thought about it for a moment and leaned over to check on his paper “Who’d you get?” 
“Moony,” he responded. 
“He any good at potions?” 
“Brilliant!” James affirmed. 
You took a deep breath and handed the paper to James, “Go get her tiger!” You told him with a smile as he approached Lily. To be fair, you totally understood why someone would have a crush on Lily, in fact, it was more surprising that you hadn’t heard of anyone else being hung up on her. 
There was a knock on the door, Slughorn opened the door to find a slimy-haired boy, looking like a very pissed wet rat, and allowed him to walk inside the classroom “Ah, Severus, did you get stuck in the rain?” 
The boy -Severus, took a spiteful glance towards the boys and turned back to Slughorn, taking a deep breath “Something like that.” 
James gave Sirius a look and a complicitous smile. You noticed Remus rolled his eyes, while Lily looked stoic, as if she was trying to hide her feelings. They clearly had some history going on. 
Slughorn handed the hat to him and he picked a piece of paper, once he opened it he rolled his eyes. “Professor, can I switch…?” Slughorn shook his head. 
Sirius jumped from his seat once he realised what his paper said “I’m sure we can find someone willing to–” he argued. 
“–Your partners are set, and they won’t change, there was a spell on the papers,” the professor explained. James gave you a worried look but you shook your head lightly, using a changing spell to switch the names on Lily and Remus’ papers. 
The greasy-haired boy took a deep breath and went to sit down at the front, Sirius followed and sat next to him, turning his back to him and rolling his eyes; so that’s why he wanted to switch, he’d been paired with the boy, you thought.
“Excellent, please, the rest of you, take your seats.” 
Remus approached you then, asking if you wanted to sit in the front, you nodded in response. And the two of you walked towards a table.
“This month, we shall embark on the fascinating journey of brewing the illustrious Polyjuice Potion. Now, let me be clear—this concoction is no ordinary brew. It demands your unwavering attention, precision, and an ample dose of patience. I must confess, not everyone will master it effortlessly on their initial attempts. However, mark my words, the fundamentals are crucial for you to grasp, for who knows when fate may call upon you to employ this transformative elixir in the days to come. So, prepare yourselves, my aspiring potion-makers, for the intricate art of Polyjuice Potion awaits!” 
You nodded and pulled out your book, finding the list of ingredients you would need. “It’s a complicated one,” You said, reading through the steps. 
Remus nodded and winced when he started reading some of the requirements of the ingredients, “Profesor,” he said, racing his hand “Will you provide the fluxweed or…?” 
"Ah, Mr. Lupin, splendid question indeed!" Said Slughorn, whose voice carried an air of geniality and indulgence. "You have touched upon a key facet of the potion we are about to undertake—the vexing nature of ingredient collection. Specifically, the delicate task of harvesting fluxweed and capturing the elusive lacewing flies. Now, my dear students, I'm afraid I cannot simply hand you these crucial components on a silver platter. Oh no! You see, the true essence of potion-making lies in experiencing the genuine challenges it presents. Therefore, I implore each of you to venture forth and procure these ingredients yourselves, immersing yourselves in the intricacies and complications inherent in brewing a potion of such calibre. May the journey to acquire them serve as a valuable lesson in the art of potion-making!"
Remus nodded in response “Of course it wouldn’t be so easy,” he mumbled and turned towards you “Wanna split?” 
You nodded “You could get the fluxweed and I could capture the lacewing flies? We also need Knotgrass and shredded boomslang skin, perhaps we can get the latter with the Care of Magical Creatures teacher?” 
“Yeah,” he agreed, “All thought, how about you do the fluxweed and I do Lacewing flies?” He asked, “I’m really good at catching stuff.” 
You agreed “I can go with Lily next full moon,” you said with a smile “We have Care of Magical Creatures later today, right? We could ask the teacher then?” 
A small Slytherin boy raised his hand from the back of the classroom “Professor, must we also dry and powder the leeches?” He asked with an air of disgust in his voice.
“Well, of course, Mr. Stradleter.” 
“Of course, because I definitely can’t order them from an ingredients store,” You mumbled rolling your eyes, Remus chuckled lightly. 
“In fact, you have stumbled upon the very essence of our lesson today. Step one, my dear students, involves a fascinating encounter with these lively leeches." He paused, his eyes twinkling with anticipation as he pulled a jar from his desk. The Slytherin boy held his breath at that point, staring at the leeches horrified. "Worry not, my young potion-makers, for we shall handle them with care and precision.” 
“Oh, this is definitely going to go bad somehow,” Said Remus, biting his lip to avoid smiling too wide as he looked around to the rest of the tables with students looking like they wanted to run away. 
“10 sickles someone ends up with at least 10 leeches stuck to their skin.” 
Remus turned to you with raised eyebrows and a little smile. “Deal.” He said and the two of you shook hands. 
Later on in the class, Peter who was sitting next to a Slytherin girl and was right behind Sirius and Severus, realised slimy-old Snape had pulled his hair up to focus on the leeches when drying them and had taken the opportunity to carefully levitate some of his own leeches towards Severus’ neck. Unwittingly causing you to win the bet against Remus. Once the class was over, poor Severus had over 20 leeches all over his neck and back. 
“Sirius bloody BLACK! What the hell have you done?” He roared when he realised he had leeches on his neck. 
Sirius raised his hands with an innocent look on his face “I’ve been working with you all class, not that I like it, but I’ve done nothing to you.” 
“Professor!” Severus whined. 
“I’ve been closely monitoring your progress,” Slughorn said “Mr. Black has been dutifully working on the drying process alongside you.” 
Severus rolled his eyes, clearly feeling victimised. “You’re meant to be on my side!” He argued and Slughorn gave him a stern look.
Peter held back a laugh from behind. James instantly knew who it had been.
“Come here, Severus,” Slughorn waved for the boy to follow. He pulled the collar from Severus' shirt and winced when he noticed the state of his back. Snape ended up having to go to Madam Pomffrey. 
 Once the class was over James caught up with Peter and Sirius as they walked towards their next class “That was brilliant Wormy!” He said with a smile. 
“I just saw the opportunity and took it,” he said with a small proud smile. 
Sirius spoke then “That twit couldn’t even place the blame on me,” he said as he placed a satisfied arm over Peter.
“Yeah, and you lost me 10 sickles,” complained Remus as he caught up to them. 
“Yeah, thank you, Peter,” You said with a smile as you walked past them toward Marlene. 
“You made a bet? With (Y/N)?” James asked Remus, raising his eyebrows, who just shrugged in response. 
Once you reached Marlene you went straight to the point “Why do they dislike Severus so much?” You asked her. 
“He used to be Lily’s friend. But then he called her a slur,” Marlene explained. 
Mary, who was walking beside you whispered “She called her a mud-blood.” 
You gave her an incredulous look “He called her that?” Marlene nodded, you exhaled with indignation, “He deserves a lot more leechers then.” 
Your next class was Defense Against the Dark Arts. A tall, elegant-looking lady in her forties, who you recognized as the head of Hufflepuff, Seraphina Nightshade, was your teacher. She moved with the regalness of a ballerina around the room. In the class, she went through the basics of some strong defensive spells, left an investigation assignment and invited the students to join the Dueling club that would start next week, after classes. 
You toyed with the idea in your head. Duelling was fun in your older School, you didn’t exactly know how good the students would be at Hogwarts but you pride yourself on having sharp reflexes. When Defense Against the Dark Arts was over, you all walked towards the Great Hall, at that point Mary asked Marlene to go get something from the room with her and the two diverted from the group. 
“So… What are we going to do for Marlene’s birthday?” Beth asked standing in front of you, Lily and the boys.
“Oh, it’s her birthday soon?” You asked. 
“September 10th, that’s… next, next Friday” Peter replied “I’m planning to get her a cake, I’ve already talked to the kitchen elves about it and everything.”
“And we’re getting some firewisky,” said Sirius pointing at James and back at himself. 
“Last time you got firewisky–“ Lily started, but was interrupted by James, who placed an arm over her shoulder. 
“–That wasn’t our fault,” he said defensively “That Ackley boy got us some weird stuff he was brewing in his room.” 
“Yeah, and everyone was burping out purple bubbles for a week!” 
Beth laughed, “Yeah, that was epic.” 
Lily shot her a glance, and she shrugged in response “Ackley’s illegal brewery almost got discovered!” 
“Don’t be such a wuss, Evans!” Said Sirius “We got a different dealer this time. They’re buying it at the Three Broomsticks.” 
“Who? Is it someone from seventh?” 
“We can’t tell you, it’s top secret,” Said Remus, who was walking beside you, “Wanna help me with the decorations? We’re gonna do over the common room.” You nodded. 
“Gryffindor parties are THE parties of the school.” Said Peter, “Totally exclusive, you can only come if a Gryffindor invites you directly.” 
“Then it’s settled!” Said Beth “I can tag along Remus and (Y/N) for decorations, if that’s all right?” 
You both nodded, then Lily spoke “I’ll see over the snacks with Mary, then.”
“Ohh, hold up!” Said Beth “Someone needs to invite Holden Crawford.” 
“The Ravenclaw seeker? Whatever for?” Asked Sirius. 
“It’s Marlene’s crush,” admitted Lily.
“Oh,” Responded Sirius with an insinuating face “Want us to slip some amorentia in his drink that day too?”
“Of course not Sirius! You especially know how bad those kinds of potions can hit.” 
“Does he now?” You teased “Sounds like a story I wanna hear.” 
“You won’t,” responded Sirius sternly.
At the same time, James leaned down towards you and whispered over your ear “I’ll tell you all about it.” 
“So… Holden Crawford?” Beth insisted, bringing everyone back to the topic at hand.  
“I don’t know him,” shrugged James. 
“Me neither,” responded Sirius. 
“I know he’s chummy with Alexander Wood,” Said Peter “They got paired up in potions first year and became really good friends, even if they’re different houses.” 
“Alex, the Hufflepuff Head Boy, Alex?” You asked. Peter nodded. “Oh, I’ll invite them.” You said matter of factly. Everyone turned towards you. They were all thinking the same, how the hell had you met Alexander Wood? “He brought me here on my first day,” you explained,  “took me to Dumbledore’s office to get sorted.” 
“Aaaah,” said Peter as he nodded.
“Fantastic,” said Beth excitedly “Godric Heavens, (Y/N) the brave got sent to us!” 
“(Y/N) the brave?” Asked Sirius incredulous. 
“Oh, Puppy… You don’t want me to talk about the zip lines, do you?” You teased. He instantly tensed up, the boys did too, but you didn’t notice.
“P-puppy?” Peter stammered. 
“I gave him that nickname back on our trip, he insisted a tiger would win over a lion.” 
The boys weren’t sure how that related to Sirius being called Puppy but they relaxed when they realised it didn’t have anything to do with their secret. “Good thing we already had nicknames when you arrived,” said James as playfully nudged you with his shoulder. You laughed. 
“Don’t know about that,” said Beth “I’d rather be Puppy than Wormtail.”
“Oi!” Complained Peter “Wormtail’s a fine nickname, thank you very much.” By then you had already arrived at the Great Hall, Marlene and Mary joining you shortly after.  
For dinner, there was Roast Beef, Shepards Pie, Bangers and Mash and these absolutely killer Buttered New Potatoes. They were so good you’d served yourself twice. Once you were done you started feeling drowsy, it often happened to you when you overate, so you gently let your head fall over Sirius’ shoulder, who was sitting beside you. 
“You okay?” He asked, turning his head towards you lightly, trying not to move you as much. 
You nodded, still on his shoulder “I ate too much,” you complained, then took in a deep breath “and we still have another class…” 
“I can carry you there,” he offered. 
You turned to him with a frown “And risk me puking on you?” 
He shrugged, “If it’ll make you feel better.” You chuckled lightly, sometimes you really didn’t understand Sirius. Some days he was at your throat trying to win you on whatever game you made up on flying practice, and then he’d come out and say things like that. 
You stared at his pretty face for a minute before shaking your head and going back to lay on his shoulder, “It’s alright Puppy, I’m sure it’ll go away on the way there.” 
He didn’t even seem to mind you calling him puppy all that much either, in that particular moment. You might have fallen asleep on Sirius’ shoulder, since next thing you knew, Lily was shaking you lightly and telling you it was time for your next class.
The teacher of Care for Magical Creatures, Silvanus Kettleburn, was quite a character, to say the least, he had white hair, styled in a very rockstar kind of way, a metal claw for a hand and a white bandage covering one of his eyes. If Remus looked like a sexy novel Pirate, Kettleburn looked like the villain pirate the main character was forced to get married to before Remus came to rescue her. The funniest thing about the man was this extremely high-pitched voice with which he introduced himself, totally contrasting with his gruff pirate vibe and attitude. He said something about trying out a new draught that had made his voice squeaky, but it still took a whole lot of energy to keep your face straight when he spoke.  
He said this month you’d be taking care of fireworms, and explained that they should be taken care of with extreme precautions since they could easily explode if not being cared for properly, if they saw the moon, or simply if they felt threatened by whoever was caring for them. He mentioned they would start small but they could grow up to 10 feet tall, and that they were the cause of many monsters and horror stories the muggles told to their children. He handed every single one of you a small box, of about 3 inches, with a worm in it, explaining how you’d have to get the worm used to you before transferring it to a bigger box, once it was large enough. “You must be very careful, and you must not forget to feed them, or they might explode too.” 
You took in a sharp breath, looking down at the little box, how could such a small creature be so dangerous?, You wondered as you carefully set him to the side, as if not to disturb him much. During the  the class you learned that your fireworm wasn’t actually a he, but a she, and after getting some encouragement from Kettlebrun, you ended up naming her Pyro Princess. Neatly writing the name on a label that the professor had handed over. In the middle of the class, you heard a small explosion, it came from a tall Slytherin boy that stood beside Severus, who quickly performed agumenti to turn off the fire. 
“Excellent problem-solving skills Mr. Snape,” Kettleburn said with his squeaky voice “10 points for Slytherin.” 
“But it was Rosier who caused the explosion,”  Tom complained, “That should definitely take some points from them, right?” 
Beth gave him a thumbs up while Kettleburn gave it a thought “You are indeed right Mr, Harrow, Evan Rosier will get a 5 points penalty for his aggravation.” Snape rolled his eyes and placed his own label on top of his worm while the professor handed a new worm to Evan. 
“Whoever has the largest worm by the end of the course, will get an automatic A,” he said before he dismissed everyone and their worms. 
At that point Lily approached you, “Today’s the first reunion of the study club, we’ll be working on some homework together if you wanna join,” said Lily. 
You nodded in response, “I’ll just take this little girl to a safe place and see you there, yeah?” 
You parted ways with Lily once you were back inside the castle. From what Kettelebrun had explained, fireworms liked peaceful environments, and while your dorm was peaceful enough, you really did not want to burn the Gryffindor tower down because of a mishap, so you decided that the safest way to keep her was somewhere in the passageways Remus had taken you to on the first day. Once you were inside you saw another light further in the passage. Turning yours off and walking behind it quietly. 
“Anyone there?” You heard a very familiar voice. 
“Remus?” You asked him, turning the light of your wand back on. 
“(Y/N)? What on earth are you doing here? it’s a whole labyrinth inside these tunnels, you could’ve gotten lost without a guide.” 
“I’m rather good with mazes,” you said with a smile “but uh… I’m here because I wanted to find a good hiding spot for Pyro Princess.” 
“You mean, your fireworm?” He asked with his eyebrows raised “You called it, Pyro Princess?!”
“Well, It’s a fireworm! What did you call yours?”
“I called him Number 1.” 
“Number one? And you’re making fun of Pyro Princess?” 
He gave you a stern look “I didn’t wanna get attached to it, in case it blew up.” 
“Now, that’s just setting yourself up for failure. But fret not, I’m sure if we team up we can keep both Pyro and Nummie alive.” 
“Nummie? Now you gave it a cutesy name too.” 
“It’s just short for Number 1,” you exclaimed “So, Mr. Guide, please take us to a safe, non often used area.” 
“Fine, follow me,” he said and the two of you walked through the tunnels until you found a decent hole in the wall to place the two worms. You performed a small protection charm on top of them and Remus added a small light orb on top of them to give them some light. “They’ll be alright, yeah?” He asked, to which you nodded. 
“I’m thinking of brewing some calming draught, to add a few drops to their water, so that way they won’t get so anxious.” 
“Oh, I’ve got some,” he said, pulling a bottle from his pocket. You frowned but decided not to question it as he placed a couple of drops on their water source. Who knows maybe Remus was a naturally anxious guy and he needed it, or maybe he was just gonna use it for a prank. 
When the two of you were down with the little home area you’d created for your worms, you walked together towards the library. Lily was already sitting on a round table, Beth was by her right, and a smaller blonde girl by her left. As soon as she saw the two of you she smiled and waved “You made it.”
“Bumped into Remus on the way too.” You told her as you sat in front of her, next to Tom. Remus sat in between you and the blonde girl, who you later learned was Nina Blythe, a Ravenclaw a year younger who always joined the study group, to learn about more advanced stuff. On a table beside you were several kids from even lower years who would often stand up to ask Lily and Remus for advice or help with their classes. 
You pulled out some parchment and decided to start working on your runes essay for Divination since it was the thing that would require the least effort. You’d kept your runes on a little felt bag and took them out to start writing about it; you knew most things from the top of your head. Once you were done you started working on your DADA assignment. Standing up to pull some books from the library about defensive spells you’d need. Once you returned to your spot you noticed Beth was desperately looking through a book. 
“All good?” You asked her, trying to be nice. 
She shook her head “I just can’t find this fucking rune anywhere.” 
“Language Beth!” Lily complained, “There are children around.”
“I’m so gonna fail…” 
“May I?” You asked as you extended your hand, she placed the rune on it and you brought it back to give it a closer look. “Ah... It’s Hagalaz!” you explained “It’s hard to find it because in this set it looks a lot more like an N than an H, but it’s this one,” you pointed at one of the runes in a book she had discarded earlier “It means Hail… So basically it comes from a natural disaster, em… it means that… an unavoidable change that is out of your hands will be presented to you. How destructive it might be, depends on how capable you are of weathering its storm. Kinda like The Tower in Tarot,” you finally gave the little stone back to Beth. 
Everyone at the table now turned to look at you, with an air of surprise in their faces “Thought you said you weren’t good with divination,” said Tom. 
“I just…” you sighed,  “I don’t want to be another divination teacher’s pet.” You responded “And I’d already seen runes a couple of years ago.” 
Remus gave you a rather apprehensive look while Tom handed over another rune for you to check. Eventually, you helped everyone with the divination homework, since the set of runes Professor Spellman had handed over to revise had weird shapes on most of the little stones. 
The little Ravenclaw girl next to Remus seemed disinterested in the divination stuff and just stared at her spellbook, drawing little stars and hearts over the edges. When you sat back down in your chair, you realised that in fact, she hadn’t done any work at all so far, she had her spell book and a parchment out, but it was pretty empty, and she just scribbled some random notes every now and then. You wondered why she was in a study group if she didn’t have any homework to do when you noticed her giving Remus a quick glance, before going straight back to her book. You leaned back in your chair, lousily grabbing your charms book and started “reading” while you continued to analyse her behaviour. 
She would read her book, the same page she’d been on since the beginning of study group, an hour ago. Then she would scribble something illegible on her parchment, and then she’d give Remus, who was completely oblivious a quick glance. She’d play with her hair, and then go back to drawing on the edge of her book, ready to repeat the process all over again. You were almost completely certain she was madly involved with Remus, but you had to confirm your theory. 
So you cut out a small piece of parchment and wrote: “follow my lead” and passed the note over to Lily from under the table. She gave you a confused glance but nodded. 
“Hey Rem,” You called quietly so as not to disturb the rest, he turned to you, raising an eyebrow at the nickname “Would you mind helping me with this assignment on potions?” You asked politely, pointing at a specific one in your book “I’m not sure I know exactly how to explain this particular step, with different words.” 
“Ugh…. Maybe you could use crushing?” 
“Yeah, I thought about it too, but I’m not sure crushing works, since it’s more like really, really fine pieces.” 
Yeah, it was a tricky question, all right? But you had to make it sound believable. 
“Do you think Lily would know?” You asked. 
He thought about it for a second and nodded, he then leaned towards the Ravenclaw girl “Hey Nina,” he said politely, and she turned to him, almost shocked he was talking to her “Would you mind switching with Lily for a minute?” He asked with a smile. She seemed taken aback but nodded. Standing up to switch with your redheaded friend. 
You leaned closer to Remus then, almost crossing past him to talk to Lily, who seemed puzzled. You were never so much in other people’s personal space, not that Remus was bothered by it, in fact, he wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest, he found the warmth your body emitted rather soothing. But Nina? Nina was absolutely pissed. She was shooting daggers at Lily and you as if you both had just kissed her fiancé. In retrospect, if a new girl showed up in a year and she was all over your crush, you might’ve been just as angry, but you wouldn’t make it so obvious. She was damn lucky everyone else was too busy looking at their books or they all would’ve known by now. 
“Oh, you can use something like make a fine dust with the dried fairyleaves,” She said after thinking about it for a bit, she then gave you an expectant look, asking if what she’d done was fine, you nodded, with a little smile.
“Oh, that’s perfect, actually,” You said as you leaned back to your place. Feeling how much colder it was without Remus’ body heat irradiating all over you “Thanks,” you told Lily and then turned to Nina “To you too love, for switching so Lily could help.” Nina nodded, still looking a bit pissed nonetheless. You continued working on your homework assignments for a while.  
At some point, you heard Tom yawn, and a couple of minutes later he was excusing himself, saying he’d finish a different day. Beth decided to walk with him. The smaller children had also started going to their dorms. As the library emptied it grew chiller, so you pulled your backpack to your knees and started looking through it, you were certain you’d packed your sweater in there, but maybe you hadn’t. 
Nina checked her watch and rushed out of the library. 
“Everything alright?” Remus asked when he noticed. 
You turned to him and nodded “I was just looking for my sweater, I guess I left it at the dorms.” 
“I’ve got mine here,” he said, pulling it out of his bag and hanging it over. 
You looked at the sweater, he’d already taken it out, and you didn’t want him to feel bad, so you glanced over at Nina, you didn’t want to make her upset by taking Remus’ sweater either, but she had already left, so you took it from his hands with a smile and thanked him. Pulling it over your head in one swift movement. It was big and warm, and it smelled so nice, you were thankful you didn’t reject it. You stayed in the library until about 9 pm, when Lily yawned and checked the clock on the wall behind you, realising how late it was. 
“Oh, we must go, it’s time for dinner,” she said as she started to place her things in her bag. Remus and you followed suit, you placed your parchment in between one of your larger books so the ink wouldn’t run before putting it away. Once you had everything in your bags the three of you started walking towards the Great Hall. Lily switched over to walk by your side and you were left walking in between your two friends “What was the whole potions thing about?” She asked you. 
“Oh… I had to test a hypothesis,” you explained, she looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for further explanation “The little Ravenclaw girl, Nina? I thought it was odd she was in our study group but spent most of her time just drawing in her notebook.” 
Lily frowned, now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen Nina do a lot of homework last year either “And?” She pressed. 
“Oh, she’s got a massive crush on Remus.” 
“Ahhhh” Remus said as he downed him, “so that’s why you were calling me Rem and being all chummy.” 
“I wanted to see her reaction,” you shrugged. “She was pretty pissed when she had to switch seats with Lily, I think she low-key hates us now. But…” you did a dramatic pause “She seems nice,” you teased Remus. 
“She looks 12, (Y/N)!” Remus said, shaking his head in disbelief. 
“But she’s got pretty eyes,” you argued back, and it was true, she had this very beautiful doe-eye look going on, and her eyes were a very intense blue. 
“Who’s got pretty eyes?” Asked Sirius, who’d spotted you from behind and approached right in the middle of a conversation. 
“A girl that likes Remus,” replied Lily. 
“I’d say she’s madly in love with him, but I guess likes works too,” you corrected. 
Sirius raised his eyebrows with a little smirk “Moony boy, were you planning on getting a girlfriend without asking for permission?” 
Remus shrugged and shoved Sirius “As if I needed your permission to date someone.” 
“But you do! I’m your best friend!” The shorter boy insisted “Doesn’t he Lily?” 
“Remus can make his own decisions,” she shrugged.  
Remus smiled, and Sirius approached you instead, clenching to your arm “You have to back me up in this one love,” he said playfully, “go ahead, tell Remus he definitely needs permission from his best friends before dating someone.” 
You raised your eyebrow at him, “Not sure about permission Puppy… maybe a 3-day notice?” you teased. 
“3 days? At least a week, so we get used to the idea!” 
“When have you ever given us so much as a notice?” Retorted Remus. 
Sirius threw his head back dramatically “Moony, you know me, I’ve never dated anyone…” Remus gave him an incredulous look “Not seriously at least.” 
“Ironic,” you said, Lily laughed. 
“Besides, if you dated someone, I feel like you would date them date them, not just hook up with them,” Sirius continued. 
Remus laughed at that “What makes you think I haven’t hooked up with anyone?”
Sirius seemed taken aback “Because you’ve never told me?” 
“Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, Pads,” Remus responded, Lily nodded in agreement. 
“Hold up!” Sirius said in shock, finally letting your arm free “Are you implying you’ve been secretly hooking up with people?” Remus only laughed in return. “Remus?!” 
“Sorry Pads,” he said walking in front of him with a shit-eating grin “There are some things about me, you’ll never know.” 
Sirius exhaled, defeated and grabbed your arm again “You would tell me if you hooked up with someone, right?” 
You raised your eyebrows, giving Remus a quick glance, he shrugged in response, and you turned your head to Sirius “Sure Puppy, you’ll be the first one to know.” You said ironically. 
“Good.” You were pretty sure he hadn’t understood your sarcasm, but Remus had and he was holding back a laugh. 
By the time you arrived at the Great Hall, it was almost empty, dinner had been at 7pm, and they stopped serving at 10, so it made sense only a couple students were left. Peter and Marlene joined you for dinner later, Mary had eaten with Tom earlier and was already back at the dorms according to Mars, and James was in a quidditch team reunion with the 7th years.
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A/N: Hope you enjoy this one, and what can I say? I def have a thing for big sweaters and Remus. / Also, guys, I wanted to take this little moment to thank you, I'm still working on my 400 followers celebration gifts and somehow, I now have 500, that's insane! You guys are incredible, also thank you for all the love you're showing The Five Senses, specially sights, I was not expecting almost 1000 notes and yet... I truly am filled with joy, atm, thank you for everything.
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judeswhore · 2 years
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remember how i said i’d die for you; steve harrington
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summary: steve’s not ready to lose you, especially not at the hands of the upside down, but his worry and love for you comes out in all the wrong ways
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
requested: yes
warnings: angst?
notes: you can find my masterlist here
the second you were certain the demobat at your feet was dead your attention swung to steve, fear bubbling harshly in your chest, throat closing up when you caught sight of the chunk of flesh missing from his side. there was a thick red line around his neck and you knew without even having to look that the length of his back would be a mess of scrapes and scratches. his body was tense, shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he fought to catch his breath, blood trickling over his lips before he spat it to the ground. all around you, you could hear the gasped breaths of the others, eddie's mumbled curses, robin trying to reassure him, nancy's soft groan of pain, but all you could focus on was steve.
more specifically on the gaping wound he was sporting.
"steve.."
nancy was standing just beside you and within moments you'd tugged the scarf from around her neck, ignoring her sound of surprise, and started towards steve. he was filthy and you worried over whether his wound would be infected but those thoughts were trampled by reminders that he'd been bitten by some otherworldly creature and you had no idea what that meant. you tried not to let it panic you, tried to keep your attention on getting him wrapped up and stopping the flow of blood. distracted by your need to take care of him, you completely missed the look on his face, didn't take in the anger that was blazing in his eyes.
steve met you half way but he wasn't listening to your words, he was half glaring at your form, his annoyance obvious to everyone but you. eddie and robin's quiet bickering fell silent.
"you're hurt, jesus steve, they've basically taken half your side. you need to let me wrap it up, i don't have anything to clean the wound with but i can hopefully stop the bleeding until we get-"
"i told you to stay on the boat." his tone was harsh and despite how breathless and tired he was, the layer of ice coating his words was evident. brows furrowed, he met your gaze with a look of white hot anger, a look that made you pause, had your stomach dropping and your heart skipping. you blinked at him.
"i-"
"i told you to stay on the boat, y/n, no matter what happened but like always you never fucking listen to me." steve's hands found your shoulders, fingers digging rather harshly into your skin, his body pressing in close to yours but his stance had somehow lost all of the comfort it usually held. he gave one shake to your body, your hands falling to your sides. "you promised me you wouldn't come down here! do you have any idea how dangerous that was? how dangerous being here is?"
"but you-" your throat felt tight and your chest ached, the pressure building behind your eyes a clear telltale sign you were going to cry. because steve was yelling at you and his grip was hard and he was hurt and you thought you'd lost him and everything was pressing in on you, knotting your stomach in nauseous balls. steve shook his head, wet hair falling down over his forehead.
"but nothing! do you know how reckless that was? so fucking stupid! anything could have happened to you, you could have drowned, those stupid bats could have killed you, or some other ridiculous creature. we don't know what's down here, y/n, and you just threw yourself head first into it because you never think about the consequences." he was seething, tone nothing but anger, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red and that worried crease between his brows was making it harder not to let your tears fall.
"steve, c'mon." robin's hand fell on steve's arm but he shrugged it off, didn't let his gaze leave yours. he shook his head rather harshly and gripped your shoulders a little tighter, thumbs most definitely leaving tiny bruises behind.
"no, you were safe on that boat, i knew you were gonna be okay, why couldn't you just listen to me for once? now you're down here and i can't keep you safe." it was like steve had disappeared inside his head, inside his thoughts, thoughts that all consisted of losing you. you could see the fear in his eyes, could hear it in the soft crack of his voice and the way he was gripping you. but he wasn't alone in that, the first thing you thought when steve disappeared under the water was that you were going to lose him, that you might never see him again. following him into the water might have been stupid and reckless but that didn't matter, not when your boyfriend was in danger.
he gave another harsh shake to your shoulders, one that made you wince and attempt to pull back but he only squeezed tighter. "i can't keep you safe down here, y/n, not like up there because i don't know what the fuck is going on down here. i can't keep you safe and i won't lose you, i can't fucking lose you but you're making it so difficult when you keep throwing yourself in harms way at any chance you get. i didn't need you to come down here, i could have handled it and you could have stayed safe away from all of this. did you even think about what was down here? about what might happen? god, y/n, don't you understand that i can't lose you?"
"steve." his fingers were starting to hurt you, his gaze frantic and a little wild and the tears you always tried so hard to keep at bay, were building over your waterline. you pulled back a little but steve shook you again, brows meeting in a pained frown.
"i won't lose you because of this. i got you into this shit and i'm not gonna let it take you away from me but you keep making stupid decisions and making yourself a target. you can't just follow me because-"
"steve, stop! you're hurting me." the wobble of your voice and the slight lace of anger had his words falling short, made him blink as though in surprise, the crease between his brows smoothing out. he dropped his hands as though your skin burned, took a step back and guilt washed over his features, softened the hardened look in his eyes. he opened his mouth but you gave him no chance to say anything, only shook your head.
"you don't get to yell at me like that as if i wasn't terrified i was gonna lose you too. you don't get to act like you're the only one at risk of losing someone you love, steve, that's not fair. you-you fucking disappeared! in a split second and in that second it was like i pictured every single moment of what my life would be like without you and it was hell, it was fucking awful. so no, i didn't think about what might happen or what might be down here because none of the mattered when the only thing going through my mind was that i might never see you again."
your words were chased by a ragged drawn in breath and you blinked back your earlier tears, determined not to cry because you were afraid if you started you wouldn't be able to stop. you twisted the scarf around your hand. steve's entire face had softened, his once angry expression dulled by one of immense guilt, gaze still edged with fear and all of a sudden he looked tired and warn out. you weren't sure if it was from the fighting or his anger or a mixture of both but it pulled at your heart, made a lump appear in your throat. he sucked in his bottom lip and ran both hands down his face, dirt and blood streaking across his skin.
"y/n, i-"
"hey, uh, guys, i like don't wanna ruin whatever this was about to become and i'm sure whatever you have to say is super important and mushy, harrington, but you might wanna look at this." eddie's voice wavered, cracked just a little in the middle and when you turned you realised he, nancy and robin were gathered a little away from you and steve. they were staring up at the sky, pressed in close together as though they could stay safe by proximity and when you followed their line of sight your stomach plummeted.
a swarm of demobats were headed your way, a blackened blob in the flashing sky, cutting toward you at an alarming speed. a few had already gathered on the floor, their screeches rattling against your already pounding head, the sight of their bodies sending a shock of dread up your spine. despite your argument, steve had immediately stepped into your side, the heat of his bare arm pressed into your shirt.
"the woods." nancy pointed to the woods at your side, still a fair distance away, vines and sludge blocking your path but it seemed like your only option so without wasting another second, you took off. it was difficult and uncoordinated and you lost count of how many times your foot got caught and you stumbled, robin tugging at your hand to keep you going but you made it.
you might have found temporary safety in the woods but tension gripped at your entire body when steve slumped against the rock, face contorted in pain, expression still managing to be a little woozy. he'd paled significantly, forehead slick with sweat, hair matted and lowering your gaze your eyes latched back on to the wound on his side, bleeding just that little bit more than before. a curse tumbled from your lips and you rushed to him, any previous anger fizzling out at the sight of him in pain.
"you need to let me wrap you up." steve only shook his head, brows pinching closer.
“it’s fine, m’okay.” you might have believed him if his side wasn’t missing a pound of flesh and he hadn’t wobbled on his feet when he tried to stand, hand sliding over the side of the rock. you turned a glare on him.
“i’m already mad at you for yelling at me, harrington, don’t make me angrier.” steve had the decency to look sorry, cheeks turning pink beneath the dirt and blood, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip and the regret was clear on his face. the two of you rarely fought but when you did it always left both of you feeling shit, steve especially. his whispered confirmation that you could help him was all you needed before you were falling to your knees in front of him, face at eye level with his wound.
it looked worse up close and you grimaced, swallowed back the rising worry and worked on wrapping nancy’s once perfect scarf around him. you pressed your hand to his hip, on the side that wasn’t injured, for leverage and slowly pulled the material over the wound, steve’s hiss and wince making you cringe. he jerked slightly away from you, his hand settling over your wrist when the cotton first touched the ruined skin.
“m’sorry, i know it hurts but i need to pull it tight. i promise i’ll try and be quick.” you glanced up and steve shook his head, his eyes a little glassy, cheeks even pinker than before. his chest heaved when you wrapped the scarf again, pulled it firmly over his side and your own body felt hot when he raised his arms.
his head fell back, fingers brushing through the stands of his hair as he half panted through the pain and you hated the way your body reacted to him. your boyfriend was in pain (and you were still mad he yelled at you) and here you were conjuring up countless memories of other times you’d been in this position. you frowned, chastised yourself for the way your thoughts were going and focused on finishing up the make shift bandage. you tugged one last time.
“how does that feel? is it too tight?”
“no, no it’s fine.” steve met your gaze again and his attention made your fingers fumble slightly over the cotton, slipping over his skin. you could see your own feelings staring back at you, fear and worry, hurt and love and longing to be safe and it made your chest ache. the tension between you was thick and the noise of the upside down and your friends mumbled conversation about what to do seemed muffled under his stare. you could read the apology in his eyes but steve wasn’t going to leave it unsaid. his hand reached for your face and he cupped your cheek, thumb brushing against the soft skin under your eye. “baby.”
his voice seemed to pull you from your daze, made you remember the task at hand and instead of answering you turned back to his body. you tied the end of the scarf once it was in place, tested it wasn’t too tight by running your fingers just under the material, the tips of them tickling over the ladder of hair leading into steve’s sweatpants and you didn’t miss the way he jolted.
“all done. it should do until we get out of here and you can get it checked properly.” his hand fell from your cheek when you pushed yourself up, your own hands swiping over your knees to clear the dirt away. before you could step away, steve caught your waist, gripped softly at your skin when his fingers slipped under your shirt.
“hey, wait, look at me.” he held you in place, used his other hand to lace your fingers together, bringing your now interlocked hands up to his mouth. he kissed your knuckles. “i’m sorry for yelling at you, i’m an idiot and i had no right to speak to you like that. i understand why you followed me, if it was you getting dragged into the water i’d have done the same in a heartbeat it’s just..” he trailed off with a sigh and pressed another kiss to your hand. “i’m terrified of losing you.”
it was your turn to sigh, a deep, bone tired one as you stepped in closer to steve, reached up to brush his hair back and tuck the longer strands behind his ear. your thumb brushed the shell of his ear.
“and you think i’m not scared of losing you? i wasn’t gonna just sit back and hope some miracle would keep you alive. i had no idea what was happening, that could have been the last time i’d ever see you and so the risks of following you didn’t matter to me.”
“i can’t see you get hurt.”
“steve, you’re missing a chunk out of your side! i’m not the one you should be worrying about.”
“anything could have happened.”
“but it didn’t. i’m okay.” you ran your thumb over his chin. “i don’t care how much you yell at me, how much you tell me to stay put, i’m gonna follow you wherever you go. dangerous or not.” a frown tugged at his mouth and curved his brows, his head shaking.
“why are you so stubborn?”
“why won’t you let me fight for you?” he opened his mouth but you pressed your thumb over his lips and shook your head. “i don’t care what argument you have for that, i’m gonna do it anyway. i’m not gonna let you fight anything on your own and if that means diving head first through a fucking tear in the bottom of a lake then so be it. you’re not getting rid of me like that, steve harrington.”
your tone was final, the look on your face telling steve this wasn’t an argument he was going to win, especially not now and so he huffed a breath and let his forehead fall against yours. his hand slid around your back and he pulled you impossibly closer, so close that you knew it was hurting his side but he didn’t let up, almost tried to press you through his skin.
“i love you.” he kissed you, soft and quick, just a gentle push of his lips over yours but it settled the ache in your chest. “and i really am sorry for yelling, for being so rough with you.” you shook your head and for the first time since leaving the boat you let a smile slip on to your face.
“you know i like when you manhandle me.” it was a joke, an attempt at clearing the air and despite his guilt, steve couldn’t stop his tiny laugh. he shook his head and rolled his eyes, lips parting and you knew he was about to chastise you for joking over such a thing. you beat him to it, silenced him with another kiss. “it’s okay, i’m okay.” you nudged your nose carefully over his. “i love you.”
a jacket, eddie’s jacket, suddenly whacked against steve’s shoulder, forcing the two of you apart so steve could grab it.
“look, we’re all more than aware of how you two feel about each other but now is really not the time for crazy passionate “you almost died” sex, so please for the love of god, cover up, harrington. we’re in the middle of a crisis here.”
1K notes · View notes
slipperzipper · 2 months
Text
Rescue (Heimdall x Reader)
| Pairing: Heimdall x Reader
| angst turned to comfort/fluff? Reader saving Heimdall from his canon ending, established relationship, Could be seen as romantic or platonic, Let me know if I need to add other things to this as well!
| wrds: 4.1k!
| Disclaimer!: Descriptions of Injuries and Blood (burns, missing limbs, etc), minor Grammar and Spelling mistakes so apologies, Kind of weird start
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You wouldn’t have expected to be here, but yet here you were. 
Kratos and Freya venturing to Vanaheim to retrieve her brother was the goal, as long as stopping Heimdall from potentially killing Atreus. Gjallarhorn was the only thing needed from the Aesir. You thought you could come and help in case anything else had gone wrong.
 
But when Kratos turned back from his promise and started strangling the weakened god, you followed them just in time to hear Mimir shout out pleas for the god killer to stop and think. Fortunately you barrelled straight into Kratos, sending him tumbling before turning around and traversing to the side where his arm was missing.
You fell on your knees. Wrapping an arm behind his shoulders, forcing him to sit up, while you grabbed his free hand and grasped it as a sense of comfort in his near death state. His blood started to stain your clothing but that did not bother you right now, right now the only concern you had was Heimdall. 
You didn’t fail to notice how Heimdall’s left hand came to his throat, as if to feel how bruised and put a barrier between him and anyone else that might try to strangle him. His harsh breathing could be heard through short wheezes and gasps. 
You could see Kratos grabbing Mimir’s head before standing tall. You heard Mimir quip about how if you weren’t here it would’ve been a lot worse, you couldn’t help but agree.
You rip a spare sheet of cloth off of your own outfit, using it to clear the blood of the golden god’s face, now his eyes didn’t seem as pink as they were. His face wasn’t perfectly cleaned but it would have to do. 
“Do you plan to come with us to retrieve Freyr and his camp?” Kratos’ voice rumbled out from his chest. 
“Do you mind if we do?” You reply with a much quieter tone, only for him to ‘Hm’ out before he stepped away. Only to wait for you when he finished busting a wall of various spears and long logs of wood. 
You redirected your attention to Heimdall, he was staring up at you. “Are.. are you really going to make.. me go with you?” His voice was slowly gaining back its usual tone and sound, but not as quickly as you liked. 
“We’re going to make things better. Better for the both of us, and if we don’t start now..” You trailed off, trying to think of the right thing to say but everything you thought would result in him being less than pleased with you, but you had to do the right thing.
“Heimdall, your father has made everything miserable for everyone. He makes you miserable. The sooner you realize that, the quicker we can make our lives better. We can make Asgard better” Brushing a strand of hair from his face, you looked at all his features.
His eyes were definitely the first thing people would notice about him, if not his intricately done hair, and how messy it was from normal. His hand was gripped towards yours like it was his lifeline and you couldn’t help but feel how textured his hands were. Not as rough as a warrior’s usually was around the nine realms but detailed enough to know the difference.
You soon tore a strip of fabric off yourself and wrapped his stub, to prevent any more blood loss. It wouldn’t do much but for now it’s all you could do. All he did was stare, stare at you with beautiful magenta eyes. After ‘fixing’ up his arm, you could only stare back. 
Heimdall was slow to respond but he eventually replied in a way you didn’t expect. 
“You should’ve let me die.”
It took you moments until Kratos grunted again to let you know it was time to go. You sighed before getting and pulling Heimdall up with you. 
He stumbled when he stood up but with little stability in his legs, he decided to tough it out. You wanted to argue that it wouldn’t do him any good, but he only insisted. 
You held his shoulders with an arm as the two of you ventured forward, only being a few short feet behind. The natural flora and forestry did not help distract from both Heimdall’s injuries and the burning building that only burned brighter the more time passed. 
Once you found Kratos standing near a ledge, you parted from Heimdall for a short moment to see what the god of war saw. You saw Atreus, the sweet young boy you’ve grown to know through various interactions, letting Hildisvini lead the way as Freya helped Freyr escape.
It reminded you of Heimdall’s condition, but you couldn’t help when Atreus waved at you, you waved back. 
“Hey, a little help?” The young god proclaimed before following after the three more experienced warriors alongside him. “At least the rescues going well” Mimir’s accent was heard, following that up was Kratos’s grunt.
You looked back to Heimdall and fortunately he was still standing and he was right behind you. Grabbing his shoulders again as you followed Kratos more under flora and alternate paths that ultimately lead to the same place. You heard the voices of the rescue team explain how Freyr was hurt in the wreckage, you heard Heimdall wheeze a little bit at it. The two of you continued to venture
You noticed how much strength he was losing by the second. His steps were getting slower and slower and you knew if he were to continue like this then he wouldn’t get anywhere. 
“Heimdall, you and I know you can’t continue like this.” You speak out, stopping Heimdall in his tracks by walking in front of him and planting your hands on his shoulders. Making him look at you. 
“I can continue- now let me.” The golden god spoke before trying to step to the side of you. You didn’t let that happen, instead you forced him to piggyback on you. Getting comfortable while grumbling quietly, Heimdall sat his chin on your head and locked his arm around your neck for security. 
You started walking with the newfound weight on your back. Venturing further, You heard Heimdall small moans of hurt every few times you stepped. Eventually you heard the god of war shout ‘TO ME! FOLLOW!’ and the constant quips of the Vanir God or “Sizzles” as Heimdall liked to call him.
You immediately picked up your pace and started running towards them. You demanded that Heimdall hang tight as you started to move your legs faster and quicker to try and reach them. You can hear the sounds of the wild Gulons chasing after them, You were only a few feet above them, you could easily hop off the terrain but the wild dogs were in the way. 
You noticed that Kratos was swinging his axe with one hand and holding Freyr with the other. Once Kratos slashed the last Gulon you’ll hop down. 
“Oh, hey up there!” Atreus called out your name, effectively letting everyone know that you were ,in fact, here and carrying the injured Aesir god on your back. 
“What are you doing with Heimdall?” Freya shouted as she shot an Einherjar in between its eyes, effectively putting down the reanimated corpse. You explained that Kratos spared him and that he was coming back with them. Only to hear a groan from Freyr.
The wild dogs were eventually cleared out of the way and you jumped off the ledge, almost breaking your ankles in the process but that would be a problem for later. You joined the group and were right behind Kratos.
“Well looky here! The famous Heimdall on the back of a ‘commoner’, who would’ve thought?” Freyr jokes after he glanced up at both you and the mentioned god.
“yet here you are, on the shoulders of a brute.” 
“The brute that kicked your ass. Ha!” 
“Then let’s see you challenge him, hm?”
“Can you two quit talking?” Freya asked, but it was more of a demand than anything else. You couldn’t help but agree. Atreus then pointed out the Archer Towers in which the boy’s father quickly disposed of them. Heimdall did a small eye roll at how quickly the action was taken.
Atreus eventually ran ahead of his father to take out the further Einherjar. 
“Hi! I’m Atreus, are you okay?” As the two weaved in between each other, Frey responded with a ‘Hi! No!’ 
“Hi Heimdall!” Atreus greeted as he struck a couple of Odin’s army with arrows. Heimdall couldn’t help but mutter under his breath and reply with a dry ‘Hello’ after you weakly elbowed him.  
“How much farther do we have?” You shouted before readjusting your hold on Heimdall’s legs, soon stomping on the head of an Einherjar and heard a sickening crunch. You heard Heimdall give a curt pat as a small ‘good’ 
“That’s what I’m asking!” Freyr quipped with a small laugh. You saw Kratos slam his body and crushed a wild Gulon into a tree and effectively murdered it. The blood stained the tree but there was no time to look further at it as you saw Hildisvini ahead.
Freya as her hawk form came flying by as vines wrapped around the surrounding trees. The dark elf known as Beyla came zipping past you and Kratos, her husband was nowhere to be found. 
“Watch your right!” Heimdall yelled in your ear as he directed his body mass to the left. He was trying to help you redirect yourself out of harm's way. You merely dodged the incoming tree thanks to the partner on your back. 
“Just a bit farther!” Freyr gleefully announced with a raised fist. He seemed the only one to be happy right now.
“Finally, we’re almost there.” Heimdall spoke only to you since you were the only one to hear him. You couldn’t help but agree with him. 
“Hang on just a little longer-” You say but unfortunately luck was not on your side. The extra trees Freya managed to knock down blocked your way, the first tree that slammed down in front of you was twice your size with just the width alone.
“Father!” Atreus then called out your name, catching the attention of the aforementioned god. Panic started to bubble up, your eyes frantically searching for another possible exit. The only way out seemed to run through the wild woods. 
“Go on without me! I’ll find another way!” You informed them with a raspy voice. The air pumping through your lungs made your throat dry, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was getting out of this damn place alive. 
You turned your body so quickly you almost gave yourself whiplash. Sprinting through the trees as angry Einherjar follow so closely, their loud yells of speech and the arrows whipping past you and hitting into trees
The trees were blending together, the wildlife seemed the same. The once (somewhat) familiar area was now unknown as you ran in an unpredictable pattern. Your feet crushed anything that dared to be under it. Whether it be snapped twigs, tiny animals that you failed to avoid, or failed arrows that tried to impale you. 
One of the arrows managed to scathe your leg. Causing a gash to start bleeding as soon as it made contact with your skin. Another arrow made a nice slice into your other leg as well, nearly giving them matching marks. Now your legs were burning even worse from all the running and now the incoming scars. 
“Keep going! There’s a river up ahead!” Heimdall ordered in your ear. His legs wrapped tighter around your waist while you readjusted your grip on his legs. Getting him up higher so that your legs had more room to move. 
As you tried to hurry yourself forward like what Heimdall instructed, you felt a blast of Bifrost explode near your feet. You panicked and quickly swerved, fumbling your feet before you corrected yourself. Only to be shot at again and again. This time it was at your back and arm. 
You cursed to yourself while you tried to move unpredictably. The Bifrost blasts that had missed and hit the surrounding environment were actually proved in your favor when they slowed down the Einherjar with fallen trees and plants uprooting and causing a tripping hazard. 
At the end of the tree line you saw it, the river. You would have to jump the rushing, turgid currents and then you have to continue running until you found a safe haven or somewhere the undead army couldn’t get you and Heimdall.
“Watch out-!”
The previous plan was thrown out when at the river’s bank, your leg was suddenly in the blast of Bifrost, causing it to shake in an untrained way and make you fall forward. Falling into the water and not too long after you and Heimdall were trying to swim, Your arms climbed upward in the water before breaking through it and gasping for sweet, sweet air.
You soon found Heimdall gasping like you. Although with less buoyancy due to a missing body part. You managed to grab hold of him as the rushing river took you down faster than you realized.
What made the situation worse, was that there was a dip in the  water. It was a damn waterfall. As soon as you felt your body slip down you started to scream, your grip tightening on Heimdall as you fell to your inevitable death. 
__________________________
The first thing you felt was sand. 
Sand? 
You flexed your fingers along the sand, soon pushing your head up to see that you had washed up on a shore. The river was just at the edge of your feet, and your clothes were soaked beyond drying soon. You also happened to notice that the leg closest to the bifrost blast that caused this predicament was almost entirely exposed and very much damaged, you internally groaned at having to deal with this.
You picked yourself up with a slight wobble in your legs, your legs felt like bloody, poorly, bundled twigs as you took your first steps. You felt alarmed as Heimdall was nowhere to be seen. You started calling out his name before deciding to look around.
Based on the setting, you were still in Vanaheim and luckily weren’t kidnapped and/or murdered by the Einherjar. You were just fortunate that you didn’t drown in the initial waters. As you ventured, you soon heard a groan. 
You soon hustled to see who it was, avoiding some of the random items that float onto shore. Weapons, shields, parts of barrels, and body parts. Carefully avoiding the dismembered parts and debris, you managed to get to your person.
Heimdall face down into the sand just like you were and a small blood pool under his ‘arm’. Hustling over to him you help him up. 
“Do you happen to know where we are?” Heimdall asked with a cough, previously covering his mouth. 
“I have no clue, I was hoping you had an idea.” You admit. You slipped your hand around his and gripped. You felt a grip back, and it gave you a little smile on your face.
“But first, I think we need to stop your bleeding.” You mentioned, you can see a small scowl on Heimdall’s face before continuing to follow you. 
“I can heal it with Bifrost. Don’t insist on collecting miniscule plants to help me.” 
“Then how come it hasn’t stopped bleeding yet?” You ask curiously, you didn’t want to sound sarcastic but some of that unwanted tone slipped out. 
“Because it requires my full attention and concentration.” You released an audible ‘oh’ at the very simple explanation, Heimdall only rolled his eyes in what you hoped was a playful way. 
“How come your bleeding hasn’t?” Heimdall sarcastically countered. You had almost forgotten about it, if it weren’t for the pain every time you stepped. 
“I don’t have any bifrost powers like you do, nor do I have anything on hand to heal myself.” Heimdall was uncharacteristically quiet after that.
You sighed before trying to think of something. How were you possibly going to reach Freyr’s camp? 
It was at least multiple days of walking, and that was without break. Maybe there was a sign of Freyr’s camp somewhere? Some old structures to help you have an idea of where you were. 
Freyr’s camp was in the direction the sun set. The sun was already setting and traveling at night was not the best idea. So the best idea was to set up your own, albeit small, camp. First thing you did was gather stones, placing them in a circular pattern. 
You had set the stones on a dry, grassy patch just shy of the beach. It would be better instead of sitting on the grainy sand. 
Then you ventured towards the nearby woods, Heimdall didn’t seem to mind as he observed more of his surroundings, copying what you did previously. 
The woods were packed. Thick trees every couple feet apart from each other, the wild flora captivating your eyes while you collected specific plants and organisms for your injuries and small pieces of wood for a fire. Although one flower caught your eye. 
A bright purple one with glowing spores. It was much like the bright red ones you have seen exploring Vanaheim but this was so clearly different. It called out to you. You figured it could be a decent gift for Heimdall to maybe brighten his mood. 
Pulling your knife out, you quickly snipped the flower’s stem. You had dropped the bundle of wood in your arms just for it, and having no other place to put it, you slid it comfortably behind your ear before returning to the camp. 
“There you are, I was starting to worry you got eaten by something.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the assumption, it was possibly one of the more funnier things Heimdall has said to you. 
“I wouldn’t die that easily, or at least I hope so.” Your hands worked in order to prepare the fire. You searched yourself for anything to make starting a fire easier, but with no luck, you decided to start hand drilling.
It took a while and your hands were sore but there was fire going and you and Heimdall were warm. 
“What is that behind your ear?” Heimdall’s voice curiously asked. The question reminded you of the original intent. Sitting somewhat next to each other, you sat while you nervously prepared yourself.
“Oh!” You removed the flower before gesturing for him to take it. “It’s for you, it reminded me of you anyway so I thought-” You stammered your way through the conversation, flirting with the infamous golden god was extremely harder than you thought. 
Instead of flat out rejecting you like you kind of expected, he gently took it from you. He quietly observed the pretty petals you gazed upon earlier. The pistil still glowed brightly as it did before. You were still glad the flower looked as pretty as it did earlier. 
Heimdall slowly rolled the stem in between his fingers, looking at the pretty plant plainly with what seemed to be little care. 
“So you thought to give me a mutated flower?” He inquired, and your heart had immediately dropped. Of course he wouldn’t like the flower, of course he’d think it was a weak attempt to flirt with him. Of course-
“It’s a beautiful gift, thank you.” His tone was tender and it made your tender heart stutter. Soon silence comfortably blanketed over the two of you. The environment provides a comfortable background echo throughout the spot from the crackling fire to the sound of calm waters. 
You couldn’t help but stare at Heimdall’s once-arm, (the god had his eyes closed so he could probably still read your thoughts but you hadn’t remembered that) the mostly reddened stump with only the top of his tricep and upwards remaining. 
You wanted to so desperately help the healing process. You also noticed the long cut on his cheek, he was just a mess in general. 
His hair was also not in his preferred style, some strands coming loose while some braids remained surprisingly. His hair was still beautiful, and the flower behind his ear accentuated that fact. You can’t just linger around while Heimdall had to slowly recover. It didn’t feel right. 
“Heimdall, please, let me help you.”
Heimdall had broken his concentration to look at you, he was silent until he shook his head. “I told you that you do not need to help, I can heal it on my own-”
“But wouldn’t it heal faster if I added a remedy or two in it?” Quickly interrupting the god, Heimdall sighed
“It would but it wouldn’t be necessary, and no, just because you have the means doesn’t mean you can” 
“Heimdall, let me help please, it's only fair after you saved me from getting crushed and blown up by Bifrost!” 
Heimdall could only rub his eyes with his hand before replying a meager ‘Fine’, You got up as quickly as you could without hurting yourself to find something that could resemble a bowl. It didn’t take long before you found something.
An Einherjar helmet, the eye holes were fortunately before the helmet formed instead of just being holes in the strong metal. You washed it in the shore’s bank thoroughly before returning to Heimdall. 
Sitting cross-legged, you start mixing flora such as Lamb’s Cress and Red root. Mixing it with two of your fingers so that you could carefully apply it, you wouldn’t want to miss a spot. So the helmet glowed on the inside, a bright yellow one to be exact.
“I’m going to lift your sleeve, you ready?” With a quick nod, you lifted his posh sleeve and quickly got to work. Slathering the medicine on the trauma, you could hear Heimdall hissing and groaning and trying not to move in place, you definitely knew how awful it was. 
It was over before both of you knew it. You slipped his sleeve back down and set the Einherjar helmet down, “Now you can concentrate on using Bifrost.” You smile before moving yourself further so you could have room.
Heimdall only rolled his eyes and reciprocated the smile. 
You soon pulled your pant legs high up to tend to your wounds. Heimdall was quietly watching as you analyzed your injuries. 
The first thing you noticed was the Bifrost burn on your mid calf and downwards. The flesh there was stingy and hurt to touch or even look at. It spanned out in sharp points and then round points, it still bled every time you flexed your leg as well. The cuts you had gotten from the arrows were deep, they tore the skin there with ease.
Maybe you could borrow some of the Aesir arrows sometime, they were mighty harmful. The gashes were still relatively okay, you wouldn’t be getting an infection anytime soon. 
You released an annoyed sigh as you prepared the ingredients to help mend the burn. Adding more of Lamb’s Cress and Red root to the concoction. “I could hold the helmet for you if it would make this,” He nonchalantly gestured to your burn ”easier.”
 
You thanked him by handing him said helmet. The golden god merely held it as you worked your ‘magic’. Gracefully dumping some of the product on your wounds, wanting to jump away from it while you applied it with either a hiss or curse. 
As soon as you were done with the helmet, you threw it far. Or at least as far as you could from your position. Finally, you could rest without worrying about anything right now. Worrying was for tomorrow. Laying down on your back you started to relax.
The sun had set and night could be fully seen. The stars above twinkled like they never have before, maybe you should come to Vanaheim more often. The fire crackled every few seconds just to add onto the effect and you loved it, despite the situation you could still see the beauty in it.  
The sound of shuffling and you found that a new weight was on your right. The watchman of the Aesir had lain beside you. You could feel his fingers ghosting yours as if he wanted to hold your hand. You decided to take the initiative and interlock fingers with him.
“Any particular reason why you decided to lay with me?” You ask, tilting your head to look at Heimdall. The Aesir man only turned to you, stared you in the eyes, then turned his back to staring upwards.
 
“I like your company, that is all.” 
The response made your heart grow warmer, so you weren’t all too bad in his eyes. (Ignoring the fact you saved his life of course) You whispered a goodnight to him before shutting your eyes, you hadn’t realized how heavy they felt until you’ve closed.
The last thing you remember was Heimdall gently squeezing your hand before you drifted asleep. 
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maxiskindahere · 1 month
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Hello! i just finish reading the Lute x Reader you just recently made and im Inlove I'm wondering that if you can make a part 2 of it? if it's not too much to ask, like Lute goes to reader after the trial or if the reader was with lute that's also fine and the aftermath of the extermination where reader was worried of Lute then she goes full shock when she saw Lute's State. This is just an Idea of mine of how the part 2 goes but you can always do it ur way :)) Thank you! <3
abso-fucking-lutely i can!!
it doesn’t follow the exact bit but i wanted to see if i could fit in everything you asked for 🫶 apologises if it’s not what you were expecting x
part one here
Extermination is entertainment | Lute x F!reader part 2
cw: swearing, talk of murder
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Y/N sat quietly scrolling through ‘Blessed’, which according to the Winner who made it.. is the Holy version of an app called ‘Twitter’. She didn’t really understand the whole concept of Twitter, but she quite enjoyed Blessed.
Though, her quiet time was quickly disrupted as she notices a text pop up from Adam
DickMaster
good luck bitch
But before the girl can ask anything, an angry Lute bursts through the door “Those fucking hellspawns!” She shrieks, slamming the door behind her causing Y/N to jump in surprise “Holy shit! Give a girl some warning” Y/N exclaims, holding a hand to her heart
“All this talk of redemption after they killed one of us, they all deserve to die.” Lute rants, anger coursing through her veins “Wait, did they win?” Y/N asks in shock, putting down her phone “Of course they didn’t! Sinners can’t be redeemed!” Lute exclaims, taking a deep breath
“Sorry, I just..” Lute sighs, running a hand through her hair “Everyone on the council knows now, Adam exposed it.” She explains to the h/c angel who nods slowly, still not sure what the issue was “So you won! That’s all that matters right?” Y/N asks, a silly smile on her face
“I guess” Lute digresses, taking a seat beside Y/N who swiftly wraps her wings around her “You know, if you’re stressed.. I know a great stress reliever” Y/N teases, wiggling her eyebrows
“Please, you sound like Adam.” The lieutenant deadpans, playfully glaring at the other “Ouch!” Y/N says, holding a hand to her chest “You’re so rude”
“Maybe, but you love it.”
Realistically, you knew you had nothing to worry about. Those demons didn’t stand a chance against the extermination army but you were still extremely nervous.
If one figured out how to kill an Angel, the others could catch on.. and that scared her more than anything.
“Are you okay?” Emily asks softly, sitting down beside Y/N on the park bench “Yeah.. Just nervous.” Y/N says simply, picking at her fingers “Lute seemed off before she left, I’m worried it will affect her performance.” The girl explains, leaning against the back of the bench
“Maybe Charlie got through to her” Emily comments, a playful smile on her face as Y/N lets out a small laugh “I doubt it, she was really annoyed after the meeting” Y/N says with a soft smile on her face
“Well, I’m sure she’s fine!” Emily reassures the girl who looks down at her lap with uncertainty before noticing the familiar shine near Sera’s office “I think that’s them, I’ll be back” Y/N tells the Seraphim before swiftly flying over to the “meet up” point
She was excited, Lute had promised to help her with some basic self defense skills when she returned.
But what Y/N saw was the opposite of exciting. She saw a bloodied Lute, one of her arms was pulled apart and she was staring down at the halo in her hands.
“Holy shit” Y/N gasps as she notices it’s Adam’s halo “Lute? What the fuck?” She exclaims, frantically flying over to her partner, resisting the urge to hug her
“Adam is dead.” Is all Lute says, her gaze strong as she stares into the skyline “Are- Are you okay?” Y/N asks quietly, looking at the missing arm
She didn’t know what to say, how do you talk about that? For the first time in her life, Y/N was speechless.
Adam was dead, and God knows what happened to cause that.
And then there’s Lute, showing no emotion per usual but Y/N knew that look in her eyes.
“It’ll regenerate, now move. I have someone to talk to.”
it’s so hard to write abt what Lutes reaction was when she got to heaven bc we only see her with Lilith, but i personally would be in too much shock to care about anything else if i was her x
requests are open🫶 i’m trynna get back into writing and this is a lot of fun :)
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kylianswifey · 1 year
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There's Someone In The House - Kylian Mbappe x reader
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Summary:
Hiii!! Can you do one where Kylian is protective over Y/N when something happens to her. Love youu!!!
Y/N had been waiting for Kylian to come home for hours, the house was silent, and she was feeling restless. She had prepared dinner and had been watching TV, but her mind kept wandering. She missed him terribly and wished he would hurry home.
Suddenly, she heard a noise from the backyard, which made her jump. She paused for a moment, trying to figure out what it was, but she could hear nothing. Y/N got up from the couch and walked towards the window, peeking out to see if anyone was there. But it was dark, and she couldn't see anything.
She shrugged it off, thinking it must have been a raccoon or something, and went back to the couch. But then, she heard the noise again, and this time it was louder. Her heart started pounding, and she felt a wave of fear washing over her.
Y/N took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down. She thought of calling Kylian, but then she remembered that he had a game that night and he was probably with his teammates.
She tried to shake off the feeling of unease but then, she heard a sound coming from inside the house. She froze in fear, trying to listen for any other noises. And then, she heard it again – footsteps, coming closer.
Her mind raced, and she thought it must be one of Kylian's pranks, but she couldn't be sure. She picked up her phone and dialed his number, praying that he would answer.
She grabbed her phone and immediately called Kylian. As the phone rang, she wondered if this was some sort of prank he was pulling on her. But the situation felt too real.
"Hey, babe," Kylian said, answering the call. "Is everything okay?"
"Kylian, is this one of your pranks?" Y/N asked, trying to sound calm.
"What do you mean?" Kylian replied, confused.
"There's someone in the house," Y/N whispered, her voice shaking.
Kylian's heart sank. He was in his car with Neymar, and they were still a few minutes away from home. He knew how scared Y/N must be, and he felt helpless. He told Neymar to call the police to their house letting them know the situation.
"Okay, Y/N, listen to me carefully. You need to stay calm, okay? I want you to go to the bathroom and lock the door. Can you do that?" Kylian said, trying to keep his voice steady.
Y/N nodded, even though Kylian couldn't see her. She knew he was trying to help her, but she couldn't help feeling terrified.
Kylian's stomach dropped at the thought of Y/N being so scared and alone. He knew he had to stay strong for her, but he couldn't help feeling panicked himself. "Okay, listen to me," he said, his voice firm. "You need to stay quiet and keep the door locked. The police are on their way and they'll be there soon. You're going to be okay, Y/N. I promise."
He heard her take a shaky breath on the other end of the line. "I'm so scared, Kylian," she said softly.
"I know, baby, I know," he replied. "But you're safe in there. Just stay in the bathroom. The police will be there soon."
The minutes felt like hours and Kylian was racing his way home ignoring Neymar's protests for him to slow down and avoid accidents. He kept thinking of how scared her sweet, precious girlfriend might be and he needed to be there as soon as possible.
Y/N was hearing the intruder break and move stuff outside the bathroom and put her hand over her mouth." Kylian, oh, my god. I'm going to die." Kylian shook his head even though Y/N couldn't see her." No, baby, no. Everything is going to be okay. I'm almost there, Y/N. Please, be quiet, baby, please."
The intruder started banging on the bathroom door, and Y/N screamed, which made Kylian's heart skip a beat. He could hear the fear in her voice, and it made him feel sick.
"Shh, shh, it's okay, baby, don't make a sound," he whispered, trying to keep her calm. "I'm almost there, Y/N. Think of something happy. Think of us."
Kylian listened intently, trying to keep her mind off the terrifying situation at hand. He knew that the intruder was still banging on the bathroom door, but he tried his best to ignore it.
Kylian could hear the police sirens getting closer, and he felt a surge of relief. He knew that Y/N would be safe soon, but he still felt an overwhelming sense of fear and anxiety.
He kept talking to her until he heard the police burst into the house, and he could hear the intruder screaming and struggling as he was arrested. "Y/N, can you hear that?" he asked, relief flooding through him. "The police are there. They're taking care of everything. You're safe now, my love."
As Kylian and Neymar pulled up to the house, he could see the flashing lights of the police cars and the front door hanging off its hinges. He ran inside, his heart pounding with fear and relief, and found Y/N huddled in the bathroom, tears streaming down her face.
He gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly as she shook with sobs. "It's okay, baby, it's okay," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "You're safe now. I've got you."
For the rest of the night, Kylian stayed by Y/N's side, comforting her and reassuring her that everything was going to be alright. He knew that the trauma of the night would stay with her for a long time, but he was determined to do everything in his power to help her through it.
As he lay in bed with Y/N curled up beside him, Kylian couldn't help but feel grateful for the love they shared. He knew that no matter what challenges they faced, they would always be there for each other. He thought about how scared Y/N must have been, alone in the house with an intruder, and he felt a surge of protectiveness. He promised himself that he would do everything in his power to make sure she never felt unsafe again.
"I love you, Kylian," Y/N whispered, breaking the silence.
"I love you too, Y/N," Kylian replied, kissing her forehead. "And I'm so proud of you for being so strong tonight. You're amazing."
Y/N smiled weakly, snuggling closer to Kylian. "I don't know what I would have done without you," she said softly.
"You would have been okay," Kylian said firmly. "You're a fighter, Y/N. And I'm here for you, always."
As they drifted off to sleep, Kylian felt a sense of peace settle over him. He knew that the night's events had been terrifying, but they had also brought him and Y/N even closer together. He made a mental note to always be there for her, no matter what challenges they faced in the future. Because to him, she was worth everything.
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gorejo · 2 years
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𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔?
≡ s.rintarou x f!reader
↳ If your boyfriend asked for a kiss through facetime would you accept or reject his advances? and what if he [redacted … ] ?
tw/cw: fluff. minor cursing. reader is called : girlfriend, my girl, baby, babe
✉ notes: this is a re-upload from my old blog (๑•��•๑) !! even if this is your second time reading, I hope you can still enjoy it again (( : 
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“Kiss me,” Rintarou bluntly asked, his voice weak as if all his energy has been stripped to his bare bones, yet his eyes still blazed with desire.
“YN… kiss me, I’m miserable. About to die almost.” He bugged again.
“Rin, I can’t. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re on facetime, do you want me to kiss you through the screen? And plus, you’re fine… you’re always overreacting,” you smiled back.
“Rude. And yes you can, just give me a kiss, come on” he countered, eyes sleepy and face relaxed, where a fine line of exhaustion lingered just underneath his eyes as he puckered his lips close to his camera lens for you to kiss.
“Oh my god… do your teammates know you’re this clingy?” You giggled, rejecting his advances for a virtual kiss as you quickly took a screenshot.
“…. don’t you fucking dare YN… and no, they will never know because I’m not clingy. This is love, and you just rejected my love.”
“You’re not the only one with a secret album full of pics, Rin,” shaking your head as you rolled your eyes in playful annoyance, “gonna make this my lock screen, and no, I did not reject your love… I just don’t want to kiss you through the phone screen… it’s so… cringe.”
“You think I’m cringe? Never in my life have I heard that I was cringe… The fuck? I heard sexy, cool, mysterious but never cringe.”
“Well, there’s always a first Rin. I promise I’ll give you as many kisses as you want when you come back, just hang tight for a bit more, okay?”
“Whatever,” Rin muttered while looking away from his camera, his screen suddenly going black with muffled movements.
“Ah fuck.” You heard his quiet cursing, his grunts mixed with muffled background noises.
“Rin, you there?” You questioned thinking that the reception was going bad, feeling a threat of sadness piling up, a sudden tug of loneliness that you’ve been doing so well harboring in as you held onto your breath. You gripped your phone a tad bit harder hoping you wouldn’t have to end the call too early. And it didn’t help that he wasn’t much present these past couple of days because of his supposed hell week at camp.
“Yea, still here,” his voice sounded as if he was on the move or had to pick something up, only to immediately show his face again, “just got occupied with something.”
Letting go of your breath you quietly responded back, “Ah, I see… okay… that’s good.”
“Baby…” noticing the sudden change in your voice, “I know you miss me, I can’t seem to understand why you can’t just give me a fucking kiss…” With one of his eyebrows quirked up, his lips slightly forming a smirk as he saw your shy expression, “it’s a win win for the both of us, no?”
“No, if I do this once then you’ll keep asking me.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“Rin… are you serious?” Deadpanning at his oblivious response, “you ask me to take a selfie of myself at the most random times. And plus you’re always being dramatic if I don’t, saying you’ll die or whatever without it.”
“Mhm, so what?” Deadpanning as if he really didn’t understand, “It’s called love. I send you quite lovely pictures of myself, don’t I? It’s intimate, no?” His voice low and teasing, “Sexy I would rather say. I know lots of people that would want one for themselves.” His lips formed a lopsided handsome smile — the one that made your stomach churn, and your face to suddenly heat up in embarrassment.
“You’re so annoying…” You murmured under your breath.
“I know you saved them, pretty?” 
“Shut up, or I’ll end this call.”
“It’s cute when you get mad, you know?”
Without his usual asking for five more minutes of cuddling in bed that would turn into thirty minutes of more sleep, where the crook of your neck would be surrounded by an awfully clingy boyfriend and his steadfast breathing tickling your skin. His large feet trailing behind your smaller footsteps with his arms around your waists, his back craned as he followed your every move, your day felt empty — complete bare without him.
Without him being able to check in with his usual ‘miss yous,’ or ‘babe look at this’ or even his ever so often honest words of affection ‘I love you,’ you were sure that he was depleted of his energy when all he could do was spend a fraction of his time right before his curfew would end and just before you would start off your day.
Long distance was an absolute bitch.
Off season for Rintarou didn’t mean rest, it didn’t mean he would be granted more leisure time. It meant more training, it meant his body would be more sore, it meant more blood, sweat, and tears, it meant being away from you… Overall, off season meant it would be the worst couple of weeks or even months of his life, your life — an absolute hell.  
“How was practice today?” You asked, completely ignoring his question.
“Miserable.” His frank response was underlined with a hint of annoyance.
“Tired?” you asked the obvious.
“Yea, fucking exhausted. My body fucking hurts, can’t eat what I want, been up since the crack of dawn without any coffee, ran laps like a maniac, and even my own girlfriend won’t help me out, I’m doomed.”
“I love you though,” you responded back, slightly tilting your head as you tried to observe his moving background.
“I love you though,” he mimicked your voice.
“Rude, never mind, I hate you.”
“Wow, the world hates me, and you won’t give me a kiss, because you hate me too, damn… got my heart broken through facetime,” Rintarou muttered, his screen lagging as if he was outside, face closely zoomed in only in split moments were you able to catch his dark background.
“Are you outside?” You questioned, and you noticed his face freeze for a slight moment.
“Yea, heading back to my dorm, tryna sneak in some snacks.” 
“You’re not supposed to eat that, Rin… you’re gonna get in trouble again,” you corrected him, listening to his repeated steps make contact with the grainy cement.
“Shh… you’re being too loud, it’s hurting my ears, people are sleeping you know?” he joked as he tried to sway the conversation elsewhere, cocking his head as he focused on his screen, “is that my hoodie you’re wearing?”
“Whatever,” shaking your head, “and yes, I am.”
“Damn I thought I brought that one with me… but I guess some thief stole it from me, tch” shaking his head in disbelief.
“You love me,” you teased.
“You’re lucky that you’re cute.” He chuckled, his voice echoing through the line.
“Are you almost at your dorm?”
“Yea, in like a couple of minutes. Tryna to get some good sleep today,” his voice sounded hopeful as his steps came to a stop.
“How are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know baby, you tell me,” his voice teasing.
“Wha —” cutting you off, “Hey, babe?” Rintarou quietly asked.
“Yes?” You answered back, your eyes opening up a tad bit wider.
“You sure you don’t want to give me a kiss?” His voice was soft as he asked you the same question again.
“Rin… I’ll give it to you when you come back.”
Breaking the teasing banter, he softly asked, “You miss me?”
“Mhm,” Your eyes started to sting as tears slowly filled your ducts, immediately biting the side of your lips as you tried to contain your tears from falling… once again in remembrance of how much you actually loved this man, your other half, your better half, “a lot actually.”
“That’s all I needed to hear…” he puffed out his breath, “Hey, baby it’s almost curfew for me, so I need to head back in soon…”
“Already?”
“Mhm, yea already,” Rintaro softly answered.
“Okay…” Your voice lacking its usual vibrancy, gently nodding as you accepted that this would be your fate for the next couple of days, “you’ll call tomorrow again?”
“Don’t I always?”
“True… just feels so empty without you here, you know?”
“Fuckkkk I mean… you can always give me a kiss if you love me so much?” his shoulders shrugging, “just a suggestion, you know?”
“Good bye Rin.”
“Cute,” chuckling as his eyes glistened in the dark, “I’ll see you soon, baby.”
Beep.
“Wait wha —” the call suddenly ended, immediately checking to see if it actually disconnected or if there was a glitch, only to be met with the lonesome reflection of your face.
Dropping onto your bed, the cold surface of your sheets encapsulating your legs, your room suddenly felt too big and too barren without your 6’3” giant lingering beside you, attaching himself to you like a, not so small, baby koala.
“Huh…” letting out a big breath, “see you soon?”
Checking your calendar to recount the days that he was scheduled to come back home, “there’s still 9 more days left…”
Groaning at the realization that you would have to suffer through this misery for a little over a week, “Jerk, asking for kisses and shit,” grabbing hold of his pillow as you snuggled into it, your face planted into the plush as you took in his faint lingering scent, letting one tear trickle down your cheek, “but ending the call like that?”
Muttering into the pillow in annoyance, “I’m not going to give him anything even if he begs.”
“So annoy —” Knock. Knock.
Whipping your head up at the sudden sound, reaching for your phone as you quickly checked the time — too early for anyone to be knocking at your door at 6:43 am.
Swiftly making your way to the door, quietly stepping closer in as you looked through your peephole.
You gasped out, hastily opening up your door, “No way…”
Donning on a pair of his sweats and sweater, with the strap of his duffle bag wrapped securely around his sturdy chest, his hands in his pockets with half his face covered with a mask while the other half was covered by his hat. And despite being covered up from head to toe, you knew at the glint in his greenish yellow orbs who he was.
how could you mistake him for any other man?
“Rin? H- How are earth are you here?”
Immediately coming forth, shortening the distance between you both as he pulled down his mask to unveil his thin face and chiseled jaw, his upright nose, and his blushing cheeks, “before you get mad,” his hands reaching out to you, slightly trembling from either the morning chill or his nervousness, “come here,” his cold palms sending shivers up your spine, “it’s cold, and I’m fucking tired,” his soft lips trailing up your neck to both of your cheeks as he cupped your face, “and I missed my baby.”
“How… How are you here?” you asked again.
“Begged my ass off,” he muttered in between small kisses.
“What?” You tried pushing him away, only to fail as his arms tightly wrapped around you, “I was good at practice, ran extra laps, trained even harder for this, not sure if you can tell,” his soft chuckle tickled the valley of your neck as his lips ran past your skin, “but I lost weight from eating healthy, almost pulled a muscle or two to get here, so tell me I did a good job YN… and welcome me home, yea?”
It was hard to resist him. You missed him. You missed everything about him. You missed his scent. You missed the way he held you so perfectly. You missed waking up to his clingy self — almost impossible to shrug his heavy body off. You missed the way he brushed his fingers against the apples of your cheeks, as he looked endearingly into your eyes. You even missed the way you both would bicker and argue, only to end up forgiving each other through love.
“You have the key, you could’ve just opened the door,” you softly responded back with your face burrowed into his chest, your fingers gripping onto his sweater as everything felt surreal.
Noticing your anxious tendency, his hands wrapped around yours to prompt you to let go, that it’s okay, “Mhm, I know,” as he pulled your arms up to wrap them around his neck, “but it’s not romantic if I open up and barge in, no?” his large hands pulling you closer to his body — one stationed at your waist while the other caressed your heated face, “you probably would’ve beat the shit out of me thinking I was a burglar or something.”
“Yea, I would’ve hit you harder knowing it’s you, just because you deserve it,” lightly grumbling as you melted into his touch.
“You missed me?” His voice was close, his tone personal as he scanned your face and basked in your touch.
“no,” your eyes trailing down his face, stopping at his slender lips as his tongue slightly peaked out to wet his dry lips.
“you sure? I’m the best, no?” his smirk making your head fall empty as if you lost all control of your body, his gaze hypnotizing you into him.
“you’re actually the worst,” pushing yourself up on your tippy toes.
Planting a soft kiss on your forehead, chuckling as he gently massaged your ear lobe as his hand trailed down to the back of your neck, his lips teasingly close to yours, his minty breath tickling your skin, “so is it still cringe if I asked for a kiss now?”
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© satorins™ — do not copy, plagiarize, repost, modify and/or translate my works.
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miss-celestia13 · 14 days
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The Ending You Deserve
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Jake x MC - Duskwood One Shot
I wanted to practice angst and creating suspense. This happened. It has a touch of humor, a hint of fluff, and other things! Sassy MC. No smut for a change. It feels weird 🤭
Can Jake run from death and make it to MC?
Or will his demons win the race?
MC isn't named or described as it was more for the emotions. It's all from Jake’s POV.
Pain. 
Aching. Cold. Hot. Burning, burning, burning. It rolled through him in waves.
He couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t see.
Dread wove through his internal organs and strangled him from the inside like an invasive vine had taken root in the core of himself.
Smoke and ash choked his airways as he stumbled and tripped through the mine.
His heart rattled savagely against his ribs.
It felt like a creature in its death throes, trying to break out of his chest.
His foot collided with a jagged, jutting rock and he went down like a house of cards. Crumpled and folded as he rolled and rolled.
Hissing as tiny sharp stones cut into his face and hands.
Ash ridden sweat trickled down his face and stung the many small slices leaking blood as he lay on his back panting and cursing himself as the ominous orange glow of raging flame inched along the underground tunnel.
The air grew thinner and thinner.
The smoke grew thicker and thicker. 
The gasoline fueled fire was a monster bearing down on him and he scrambled to his trembling feet. Taking off at a staggering jog, one hand braced on the rough, dirty wall.
A pinprick of light opened up far ahead and a jolt of adrenaline surged through his bloodstream. He hurried, panting and terrified, breathing too shallowly as the rising heat nipped at his neck.
He knew he had a choice to make.
It was death by fire or FBI.
Neither option appealed to him, but as he looked back and saw the swirling, furious flames licking nearer and nearer. He knew he had to decide.
It wasn’t fair.
He wasn’t innocent or free from any wrongdoing. But he didn’t deserve to die like an animal, run over and left bleeding out and twitching on the side of the road until he grew cold and stiff. 
No one would miss him.
No one would look for him.
He was all alone. It was a surety. He was always, always alone.
That’s not true though, is it, Jake?
It hasn’t been for a while now.
The voice in his head made his breath catch, and his heart pounded painfully in his throat.
It felt as though someone had reached inside his chest, broken through his flesh, muscle and grasped his bones to pry them apart, an invisible fist that gripped his pulsing heart and shoved it in his mouth. Forcing him to swallow it.
It beat there like a Wardrum. Marching him to his death. 
It throbbed and choked and filled his mouth with copper. He couldn’t stand it. The pain was corrosive as it ate through his nerves and left them exposed to the heat and acrid taint of smoke.
She is waiting for you. Don’t let her down.
You PROMISED.
A soul deep sigh huffed through his nose as his feet sped up, pebbles and broken glass crunched under his boots as he raced toward the gradually growing dot of light.
The roaring fire and echo of his escape bounced off the stone and haunted him as he ran for his life.
Four years of running.
Four years of searching and shame and seclusion. Running had been his gift. His lifeline. 
Yet he felt wholly unprepared for this last sprint.
He was tiring.
Steps shortening faster than his scalding breath as black smoke slithered overhead and wrapped its insidious tentacles around his body.
He would not make it.
He would not see her after all.
The thought felt like a poisoned blade sinking into his chest. He could feel the barbs of it twisting and cutting through sinew.
He would soon bleed out without a sound.
The fight left him as the intangible knife punctured his hope and foolish dream of having a love he didn’t deserve.
They’d been writing their own story, filling the pages with dreams and fragile, flourishing love.
He felt like coming here was akin to him tearing out those pages and ripping them up.
It broke him so completely he almost stopped and let the flames embrace him.
He could already smell the sickly sweet and pungent scent of his blistering flesh. Like tanning leather over a flame.
He was going to burn.
It would hurt more than he already did.
It would roast through his flesh, flay it from his bones and incinerate muscle and blood to dust.
He could already feel it.
Creeping closer, singing the hair on his nape, and filling his nose with the cloying scent of dangerous smoke.
No one would know it was him.
Nothing would remain for her except blackened bones and the memory that he had gone to the mine instead of her.
She would blame herself for this.
It would destroy her.
And it was all his doing.
No.
Never.
He wouldn’t be a cause of her pain anymore than he already had.
A burst of fresh speed and determination glittered through him as the fire drew so near he could feel the flames whispering in his ear.
Too slow, Jake. It’s too late.
You can’t run away from this.
Your luck has faded.
He forced it aside and sobbed through his clenched teeth as the dot of light swelled and came toward him.
His legs were heavy. Growing weightier with every leap over fallen support beams and shattered rock.
His rabbit heart raced faster and faster. It deafened him to the groaning, popping wood as the fire devoured it.
Tears streaked through the soot and blood on his face. Leaving pale tracks through the grime and coating his chapped lips with brine.
His vision blurred as his emotions broke free of the locked and coded vault he’d stuffed in the back of his hive mind to come here.
He attempted to shove them back in.
It didn’t work.
They spilled out and utterly overwhelmed him.
He’d spent years locking them down. Beating them into submission, so they listened to him and not him to them. The steel and stone fortress he erected around himself had already crumbled for her and there was nowhere left to hide.
He’d given her everything he had, and it wouldn’t be enough.
You always knew you weren’t enough. Let’s not think too highly of ourselves.
She deserves better than this.
Better than you.
That is a truth you will never escape.
His heart fractured as his mind fought against him and his flagging spirit frayed further.
She deserved better than this.
He was failing her. Had failed her since he let her in.
He’d always known he’d cause her future hurt.
He just hadn’t expected it would come so soon. That he wouldn’t get to watch from afar as she healed from his vanishing.
They had always lived on borrowed time.
And now, the fire was so close sweat slid like rivers down his back and legs, eating away at his nerves as they flared wildly under his soaking skin.
Jake knew it was futile. The ball of light in his vision seemed to run away from him as his eyes blurred and cleared repeatedly. His hands curled into two tight fists and he fought the urge to punch the wall in fury.
He bit down on the inside of his cheek instead. Biting down hard until the skin gave and blood welled over the tattered edge, glazing his tongue with the buttery, metallic taste of it.
It acted like a stimulant.
His eyes focused and his heart pounded fiercely as he ran and ran and ran.
Feet pounded stone as fire blazed through the mine. He had to outrun it.
He would outrun in it.
There was no other option as his blood pressure skyrocketed and his breath became harsh, shallow.
The fire sucked away the air before it could go in as he tried to gulp it down.
There was no oxygen.
His insides kept writhing and twisting.
They knotted up and up so tightly he swore felt something tear. Something that made him cry out as the air was crushed from him.
He could see shadows in his periphery. Specks of darkness and sparks of light as his lungs ached and screamed for oxygen. For rest.
Resting meant dying.
Dying meant failing her.
Failing her was never an option before.
It couldn’t be one now.
He put his head down and ran.
He jumped over another wooden beam as the light ahead broadened and he landed atop aged wooden boards.
He only had time to scream as they broke under his weight and their age.
Jake fell. And fell and fell.
He screwed his eyes shut before he hit the ground.
The impact was so brutal, he almost wished it had killed him.
He hit the ground with a resounding whack.
His head cracked off the stone. Pain, blinding and bleeding, radiated through his skull and brain, frying his rationality completely and leaving room for fear to consume him wholly.
Warmth seeped across his scalp and his hand came away, stained in crimson when he reached to feel the damage. 
Head wounds bled worse than they were and the gash didn’t feel too bad once the stinging pain subsided a little. He internally surveyed the rest of himself. Finding nothing broken despite his ribs feeling as though a giant had stomped him flat.
Dirt and blood coated his teeth as he wheezed and coughed. Choking and spluttering as he tried to get a handle on himself.
He’d bitten through his lip, and it bled like a bitch.
Something was stabbing into his shoulder. 
As he stared up at the hole he fell through, a sensation like a thousand razor blades slicing down his skin moved down his spine, coiling in his lower back. It swirled there, a ball of cutting, primal fright that soon bled through the rest of him.
A rickety ladder leading up and out offered a small ray of hope.
He clung to it and calculated how long it would take to climb in his current condition. 
Fire scoured over the opening and left no place for him to escape.
His hope died with a breathless whimper.
He barely even heard it as agony rippled through his bones and he rolled onto his knees, panting.
“Fuck!” He spat. The word was more like a vicious curse as it rebounded off the mine walls and into his ears.
Mocking him as he squinted into the darkness and tried to figure out what to do next.
The fire would keep the police and FBI away from the mine until it burnt out. They wouldn’t rush in until it was safe enough. He knew that.
He could use that.
Jake kneeled on the filthy ground and schemed.
The temperature rose and rose as he shuffled through his thoughts.
He neatly ordered and arranged everything, thinking of his brain like a filing cabinet.
He could slide one drawer open and find a treasure trove of data and memories.
Some would get stuck as he tugged at them. Rusty and dusty, hardly ever opened for fear it would cut off his ability to feel nothing.
He pulled at one that had eroded so much he had to kick it and smash it to smithereens to pull the files out.
It was like opening Pandora’s box and expecting sunshine to pour forth. 
A veritable flood of emotion, memory, and agony spilled free of the mental drawer and absolutely annihilated his hold on himself.
He’d forgotten what it was like to feel everything so fully.
Everything of the last few years had felt like he was competing against time itself. And time was humanity’s greatest enemy. There was never enough of it and it actively fought back when you tried to beat it.
It was a losing game and in order to keep playing, he’d become a ghost.
He muted everything that made him human in order to survive.
Calculated.
Clinical.
Cold.
Jake was all of that.
Now, he felt everything.
He wanted to survive. He wanted to live.
Lingering as a phantom on the periphery of reality no longer appealed to him. He wanted to feel and touch and be. He wanted everything life had to give.
The bitter and the sweet. The hurt and the relief. All of it.
Jake just wanted.
And when Jake wanted something, he got it.
He pushed up on his hands. Curling his fingers into the gravelly dirt and ignoring the bark of pain as his nails cracked and split.
His blood mingled with the muck, and he clambered to his feet.
Everything ached and bled and felt so heavy he could barely put one foot in front of the other as he carefully headed down the tunnel he’d dropped into.
His throat was raw. Torn to shreds from smoke and screaming. His hands quaked and his mouth was so dry his tongue curdled in his mouth as he smacked his lips together and tried to create some lubrication.
It was useless. He needed water.
He needed to rest soon, or he would pass out in sheer fright and exhaustion.
It’s too late, Jake.
Give up.
Only fools persist in fighting when the odds are stacked.
Jake’s head throbbed as he thrashed it, as if to dispel the sinister crooning, and muttered, “The odds are always stacked. It’s how you play the system.”
The voice went quiet again, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he tripped over rock and wood, hands scrabbling at the walls to ensure he wouldn’t get himself lost.
He risked taking his phone out of his pocket, scowling at the shattered screen as message after message came through.
MC: Jake. You can’t just tell a woman you love her and then ignore her!
Answer me.
Please.
Just give me a sign. A smoke signal. Send a damn carrier pigeon if you have to! They’re saying there’s no way in or out. But I know better. You’ll find a way. 
Keep going. Please don’t give up. You’re not alone in this. I won’t allow it.
If you die, I will hunt you down, drag you back and kill you again. You must live, Jake. Not for me, not for Hannah or Lilly, but for you. You will make it back to me.
He swiped them away. Deleting them. They made his heart shiver and fracture more. The rubious fissures would leave silver scars behind. He groaned as another came through and he immediately memorized the coordinates she gave him. Deleting the message once he had. He put all his remaining energy and will into planning his escape.
His mind wheeled with memories from before.  Prior to being forced into hiding, he had experienced a life of color and fluctuating joy. It wasn’t a perfect life, but it was his. The day he had to leave it all behind, he’d severed all strands of his old life and assumed the identity of many and none. 
He’d learned a lot about humanity and its cruelty in that time. He knew how it worked.
Life was a battle against human cruelty. It always was and always would be. Wisdom, strategy, and hope were the only factors that could hope to gain over cruelty.
And his hope lived on. 
Hope, he understood it lived with her now. He’d given her it and she had offered him her own. He would not waste it.
He flicked through his brain and memories, shelving what didn’t matter and keeping what did. Everything that made him ache, he kept. Everything that made him feel safe, he lost.
If safety meant being alone, lost in a mine until he either burned or starved to death, he didn’t want it.
He reached into the mental vault containing their chats. 
Their conversation about her coming here was the most potent file he had, and it would fuel him to make it out.
She had complimented his research on the mine and he’d told her about some entrances/exits.
He informed her of the ones he thought were most likely to get him caught. It was a manipulative decision, so she wouldn’t get the stupid idea of following him.
He kept one exit loaded like a bullet in the back of his mind.
It was risky.
It was idiotic. 
Still, Jake took off running for it. 
The tunnel was narrowing as he traveled along it. He had to duck before long.
His heart still frothed behind his sternum. Relentless and out of time, with his sawing breath as the walls closed in on him.
He had to crouch now. His head scuffed off the rugged ceiling and he bit back a shout as the pain merged with that of the wound still leaking blood on the back of his skull.
He felt drained. His body became so weighty, he was grateful when the tightening passage forced him to his hands and knees.
Jake crawled and crawled. Palms scraped and searing as sweat irritated all his grazes. His eyes prickled with fresh tears as a draught of fresh air snaked into his nose.
Dread rose to swallow him, but he kept going. He didn’t know what awaited him on the other side, but it was better than dying alone, never to be mourned or found.
The fear of being arrested was so strong it almost halted him as he squeezed through the ever shrinking tunnel and felt like he was caught in a vice.
If he got stuck—No, he couldn’t think it.
He had to turn his fear into a weapon. Run from this place and reclaim his name. The sweat on his brow, the blood running through his veins; it was that of a survivor.
This was just another glitch.
He told himself that over and over as he army crawled through the crushing mine.
He was blind.
The darkness entrenched him.
It would entomb him if he allowed it.
His coat snagged on the rough wall and dragged him back. He shook his sore body as much as the tight space would allow and panted through his clenched teeth.
It kept sticking. He had stretched his hands ahead of him.
There was no room or way for him to tug the fabric free.
His heart stopped dead in his chest.
Helplessness stole his flagging fight, and he slumped into the dirt, hiding his filthy face in it.
Abruptly, Jake started sobbing like a child. Great, gasping cries tore from him and his entire body shuddered with it. So violent and soul destroying he couldn’t temper it.
No matter what he did, it went against him. He’d never worked with such horrendous odds. His brain was a mess of emotion and regret.
He wished he’d written everything he felt and hoped for them down and mailed the letter to her before he entered the mine, but he’d been cocky then. Too confident in his ability to escape any trap or cage.
Jake gave up and accepted his fate.
If he died, if that was his due, there was no stopping it. He’d been living off begged and borrowed and stolen time for years.
It had finally caught up to him.
He was so lost in defeat. Consumed by it. His throat contracted, and he felt like he might be sick.
He hoped he choked on it.
Make it quick.
“I don’t want to die,” He whispered without meaning to and his mouth kept moving, the words kept falling from his bloodstained lips, “Not like this, anything but this.”
His heart shriveled and went cold as he struggled and tried to shuffle forward. He couldn’t breathe properly. All his weight was on his front. His ribs felt bruised and cracked, every tiny inhale felt like a sledgehammer blow.
It is over, Jake. Feel that? The cold creeping in? Soon, it’s all you’ll know. This darkness? It’s all there is. All there ever will be. It’s what you –
“-- I don’t deserve this.” Jake growled with a certainty he’d never known.
Adrenaline coursed through him, lighting up his veins and filling him with new trembling energy as if someone had injected him with a drug.
He rocked and shook his body until his bones jolted and his skin felt too tight. He forced what little breath he had out through gritted teeth and felt the tendons in his neck straining as he dug his fingers into the dirt and put all his strength into pulling himself free.
The sound of fabric ripping caused his heart to start beating again.
He gave a laugh like shattering glass.
Unhinged and desperate as the momentum of his coat coming free shoved him forward a few feet.
From there, it wasn’t easy. He felt like a clumsy serpent as he slithered through the mine.
He kept laughing. His heart kept pounding.
The voice in his head was silent as his hands connected with something that fell away as he shoved at it.
Glorious, clean night air hit his sweaty face, and he gulped it down as he pulled himself out of the horrible tunnel.
It seemed to cling to him. Like invisible hands tugged on his ankles to keep him trapped. He refused to allow it.
Damp earth, long green grass, and dried leaves crunched under his hands as he lay on his back on the forest floor and stared at the starry sky.
He considered the spectacle of stars as the greatest gift he could have received. He analyzed it, finding the North star and thinking of the co-ordinates MC had given him. He quickly checked them on his phone before he threw it away, and was relieved when he discovered it wasn’t too far to make it there on foot.
If he headed in a North- Easterly direction, he could make it there at sunrise.
He didn’t bother looking toward Duskwood, didn’t need to know how close his pursuers might be or he’d lose his nerve.
He shakily got to his feet and started walking.
Time meant nothing to him as he traipsed through forest and open fields. He stayed away from the roads he knew were always busy.
In his current condition, some good samaritan would call for help thinking they were aiding him when in fact they’d be signing his death.
He was so tired. It clung to him like a shroud of smothering fog he would never break out of.
He kept moving. 
Through shadow and moonlight, he kept walking and ignored the pain in his body as best he could. 
There was no end to his exhaustion as pink tinged sunlight shimmered through the pines.
The sun was rising.
How strange, he thought, that his world could burn down around him and yet the sun still rose.
He eyed it and felt strange, like it was an abstract painting absolutely out of place in this world of cruelty, death, and flame.
No matter how deeply or irrevocably the world burned. No matter how thick the shadows grew and the amount the freezing darkness consumed, the sun would always rise.
It filled the world with light, warmth, and color and precious hope.
He felt the soft warmth kiss his hurting face, and it energized him as he broke out of the cover of trees and came to a halt in a motel parking lot.
Jake frowned, glancing around in suspicion and doubt as he failed to understand. Why would she send him here? He hadn’t stayed here. It was too out of the way.
And just how did she know of it?
He stood straight and fear thickened in his throat as his attention snagged on a window. The curtains had moved. He was sure of it.
He moved as though to sink back amongst the trees, but the creak of a door opening made his head snap toward it.
A small, slender hand poked through the gap in the door, beckoning him. He was moving toward it before he could give his feet the command.
His heart picked up speed again. His pulse and distress ratcheting up and infusing him with tension like someone was turning a screw too tightly.
He was only a few steps away from the door now. His skin felt too sensitive and everything hurt in some way. His throat felt like he’d been eating sandpaper and gravel.
The shake in his hands intensified, flight or fight. His nervous system couldn’t decide.
As he hesitated, a female voice trailed through the open door and it was like a salve on his exposed nerves. He had heard that voice, he could recognize it anywhere.
His heart raced for an entirely different reason as he listened to it.
“It’s safe. Come in and I’ll explain.”
Jake didn’t care about her explanation as the adrenaline left him so suddenly he drooped and nearly dropped to his knees.
He tripped through the door instead.
She didn’t give him time to rake his gaze over her the way he wanted to. She gripped him and forcefully dragged him into an embrace, causing him to groan in pain as it aggravated his many minor injuries.
She instantly pulled back, grimacing and apologetic.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. Here, I have supplies. I figured one of us would get shot or stabbed or maimed. It felt important to be prepared. Thankfully, the worst injury I’ve had is paper cuts. You don’t look like you’ve been so lucky. Are you bleeding anywhere? What do I do first? Are you burnt? You smell like someone roasted you over a spit! Are yo-”
Jake chuckled roughly at her babbling. Touched and amused by her care and thoughtfulness.
It was the first genuine laugh he’d had in years, and it turned into a cackle before long. It just slipped out of him and sounded more like crying by the end.
His gritty eyes closed as emotion swallowed him and he welcomed the darkness they offered.
It was familiar.
It was safe.
He woke hours later very confused and so stiff it felt like he was breaking his bones to sit up. His grunt of pain escaped his teeth as a lilting voice cut through the static in his mind.
“Oh, good. I was worrying. That’s nothing new, but you look like someone just dug you out of your grave. I cleaned and patched you up as best I could without stripping you. I thought I’d let you buy me dinner before we got to that stage!”
Her tone was light and filled with humor, but there was an edge of despair and anxiety in it that told him she’d fussed over him the entire time he slept.
His sluggish heart resided in his empty stomach as she approached him slowly like she thought he was an injured animal and she was afraid to spook him.
“Where are we? Why are you here? You promised to stay away.” He managed as he accepted the glass of water she offered him.
His fingers left dirty streaks on the glass as the dirt mingled with the condensation. The water was cold and crystal clear and he gulped it down to clear the sour taste out of his mouth.
She huffed at his words and waited for him to sink the water before she responded, “Typical. I come and help you and you scold me. Well, shove it.  If it weren’t for me and Alan, you would be dead or rotting in a cell. And I did stay away! I didn't go to the mine, did I?” 
His gaze flew to her indignant face, lovely and open despite the fury razing hell in her narrowed eyes.
He felt shocked that he could speak because his tongue felt so thick in his mouth. “My apologies. I’m still—I’m sorry... Alan? I thought he would be more interested in helping them catch me?”
She smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she sat down beside him.
“That was until I ripped him a new one. The fire helped most, but Alan is currently playing down your involvement to give us time. He’ll make contact with us once we find a safe place to stay.”
He opened his mouth to demand she go back home, and he’d message once he was safe, but she flung up a hand to silence him.
“None of that. I’ll explain better once we know the scope of the fallout in Duskwood. But I am coming with you. No, if ands or buts about it, Jake. I make my decisions, not you. The last time someone tried to decide for me, I bit them. Don’t make me bite you too. Are you in?”
Her eyes were hard and unwavering, not a sliver of doubt to be found.
Everything inside him protested against dragging her into his mess, but he was tired.
He was tired of being alone.
He was so tired of losing everything.
Four years of fatigue and depression sank through him like a millstone and he hung his head in defeat. He was in no condition to run alone, anyway.
And he didn't want to. It was selfish. It was daft. But he didn't care.
He hadn't expected to survive this long. Plus, she had been his reason to make it out. He sighed and let his shoulders curl inward. Having someone else to protect would keep him sharp and ready for anything. She must've sensed his resolve weakening. 
She reached out and threaded her clean fingers through his muddy ones, dark and light; he thought stupidly as his skin tingled at the contact.
It had been so long since he’d been touched gently. With obvious affection and because someone wanted to, not because they had to. 
He was used to bruises and hurt. This was — this was what he'd survived for. 
He’d forgotten what it felt like as he met her gaze and felt his stomach fluttering with something that felt like excitement.
It felt like hundreds of tiny birds had taken flight in his abdomen and a frisson of tentative anticipation filtered through him. 
Her eyes glittered and his mouth twitched with the want to smile as he gave his response.
“I’m in.”
—————————
Thank you for reading. I hope it was worth your time despite this being done so many times before me. Oh, and if you leave a comment or reblog, thank you. It is appreciated ❤️
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lunarvicar · 4 months
Text
promise you'll stop (for me)
just a silly little one-shot. implied crush on captain price because can u blame her??? tw for referenced self harm (but it's funny, i promise)
wc: ~800
title credit: @dotcie
The water is hot - almost too hot. You should get out now, or the heat on your face won’t settle before you have to see him again.
A helpless giggle bubbles out of you, and you look down at your scarred body through the haze of steam. All battle scars, acquired through your work in [redacted], taking care of things for [redacted], and [redacted] people who won’t [redacted]. You barely notice them anymore, the silvery marks blending in like the black spots in a jaguar’s black fur. 
It’s been a while since you’ve been around men who weren’t in your unit, but you got home for a month of leave last week and a hometown friend persuaded you to go on a date with a guy from her college improv group. Why not? It had been a strange feeling to agree to go out with a civilian, but Soap and Gaz had found the idea hilarious until you’d pointed out each of their sky-high civvy body counts. At the very least you might get a good lay out of it, you’d joked. Better than you could find anywhere in the unit.
Not that you’d tested that theory, or even that you believed it -
So, you’d gone out with him. Michael, but my guys call me Mike, a nice boy fresh out of college. Majored in marketing, moonlit as a web designer, played ultimate frisbee at the local rec on Thursday evenings, and what about you, what’s your deal?
You worked in international relations, you’d said, and smiled sweetly before asking him about his family.
Now you’d seen him again after that date - a dangerous precedent, but with your next assignment looming, you figured you’d appreciate the indulgence in a few months, when you’re buried so deep in the Caucasus mountains you forget what the word warm means. Invite the mouse out, bat him around a little. 
Claws retracted, of course. But now you’re in his shower, running up his water bill. 
The sex had been fine - definitely not better than you could find in your unit, at least not according to your imagination. His hands had been a little too soft, his breath a little too high in your ear. You’d come, at least, which you’d definitely hold against Soap and Gaz if they kept teasing you, but something had been missing. A beard, maybe - a growly, commanding accent, rough trigger callouses against your hips, your classified code name licked into your skin?
Yeah, all that would have made it better.
A knock sounds on the door. “Baby? You good?”
You almost scream through your teeth, grateful for the muffling effect of the water. Baby, my ass-
“Fine! Out in a minute!”
You turn the water off with a cringe, and wish to god you’d thought to grab a shirt to put on before leaving the bathroom.
It was the morning after you’d slept together - you hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but truth be told you’d been halfway there before he’d even finished (which he did politely, you might add. Unobtrusively). After bringing you coffee this morning (with sugar, the assumption of which you did not appreciate), he’d sat down on the side of the bed, a nauseatingly earnest expression on his young, sweet face.
“Babe,” he’d said, and you’d coughed around a mouthful of sweet, sweet coffee. “I need to talk to you about something.”
You swallowed, hoping your eye wasn’t twitching. Babe? “Michael, I’m not sure we’re-”
He set your coffee aside and took your hand in what you imagine he saw as a sweet gesture. “Promise you’ll stop. For me.”
You tried to understand what he’s referring to. You drew a blank. He kept eye contact. 
His soft, soft hands were tracing a scar on your forearm, a bullet graze you got in a shootout in Belfast two years ago.
No way. No fucking way. 
Soap was going to die laughing if you ever told him this.
The disbelief nearly erupted from you in a snort, one you clumsily suppressed as a cough and then an ungracefully loud sniffle. “Baby,” he tried again, “I know it’s a tough subject, but this isn’t the only way. We can find you a therapist-”
You nearly cried with how hard it was not to laugh, but it only intensified his puppy-eyes. You interrupted him, holding your breath between words.
“Can we talk about this later? I need to-”
You’d dashed for the bathroom. 
Now you have a headache building from the steam, and you’re thinking about the man who had sewn up that bullet graze with a needle and a few strands of human hair. What would Michael say if you told him that side of the story?
What would your captain say if you told him this one?
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