#for a little while. if i keep moving fast enough i forget that i’m lonely. i forget that i’m lost | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sinner-as-saint · 3 years

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Somebody Else

(Mob AU) Cherry!Seb x Reader

Run-through: You decide that it’s high time to tell your boyfriend about the other man in your life, because you couldn’t lie nor keep it a secret anymore. And needless to say, he doesn’t take it very well.

Themes: angst, smut, jealous!seb, fluff

a/n: for those confused, ‘cherry!seb’ is mob!seb, we just gave him a name because well, click here

You were so anxious that it was hard to breathe for a little while.

The moment you heard his car entering the gates, you shot up from the couch and rushed down the stairs. You had been thinking about this for a while now, but tonight was the right time. You couldn’t lie anymore. And it hurt you each time you had to refrain yourself from bringing it up on the phone.

Just as you reached the foyer, you watched Seb walk in - the notorious mob boss who was mean, and ruthless and cruel to anyone else but you. To you, he was everything you could ask for.

He smiled the moment his eyes met yours. “Hi babygirl.” He opened his arms and engulfed you in a warm, tight bear hug. He had been away for work for days, and right now all he wanted was to be home with you.

“Hi baby. Welcome home.” You nuzzled his neck and inhaled his absolutely delicious cologne. You pulled away to look up at him but he was busy scanning your outfit.

He frowned for a brief moment, “Are we going somewhere?” He couldn’t help but ask because although you always looked beautiful, the little sundress you were wearing was absolutely stunning.

You linked your arm with his as you two walked further into your home. “Nope.” You answered, and bit down on your lip as you looked up at him.

He stopped and grabbed you by the waist to pull you closer to give you a sweet kiss on the lips. He pulled away gently, “So you got all dressed up just for me?” You nodded at his question and he chuckled, leaning in to kiss the side of your mouth again. “You know, as much as I appreciate you looking extra pretty for me, all I wanna do it get you out of this dress and-,”

“No,” You whined playfully, pulling away. “Not happening. Go freshen up, I made dinner.” You watched how his brows furrowed a little at you.

“Okay…” His reply sounded more like a question. “Did I forget something, baby? Our anniversary is in December, your birthday is next month and we-,”

You cut him off again, he was stressed out you could tell. “You didn’t forget anything. You’ve been working a lot lately, you’ve been away from home a lot. I just wanted to do something nice for when you get back.” You whispered, grabbing him by his face and pulling him in for a kiss.

He moaned into the kiss and tightened his arms around you, feeling your warm body beneath the dress. “You didn’t have to do anything. You make me feel so much better just by being here with me.” He whispered, his voice deeper, as he kissed his way down your neck. His touch was very persuasive and you almost gave in but then you remembered…

“Okay,” You giggled as you pulled away. “Don’t ruin my plans, now go shower. I’ll be waiting,” You pulled away from his embrace and he groaned as you walked away from him. You turned to face him one last time before you walked into the open kitchen, “And you better be back before I finish my first glass of wine.” You winked at him.

He bolted. Ran upstairs as fast as he could, smiling to himself and wondering how he got so lucky.

Seb showed up sometime later, showered and relaxed; smelling even better. You watched him enter the kitchen, his body moving slowly but confidently - dressed in nothing but just dark grey sweatpants. You bit your lip again as he walked over to you and tried to get all cozy again but you pushed him away playfully.

Midway through dinner, he looked up at you and took your hand in his. “This is torture.” He murmured, taking a sip of wine while rubbing slow circles on the back of your hand.

You smirked. “What, I made your favorite dinner, opened your favorite wine. How is that torture?” You knew you had to get him in the right mood before telling him all that you had to say.

He studied your face for a while, narrowing his eyes at you. “Is there something you want? Babygirl, you know all you have to do is ask. Whatever it is, I’ll get you.” He spoke, then lifted your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

You tilted your head to the side. “What do you mean? I make us dinner all the time, why does this seem suspicious to you?”

He playfully nipped at your finger. “Because I know you too well. And I know you’re up to something.”

You pulled your hand away to pick up your fork again. “Well I’m not, now eat up.”

Dinner was just as perfect as you wanted it to. And another glass of wine later, you and Seb found yourselves on the couch in the living room, watching a movie - barely, because Seb was having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Each time he slid his hand under your dress, you pushed his hand away. You purposely dodged each one of his kisses, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he snaps. But you needed to get him desperate enough to where you’d have his whole attention.

“Babygirl,” he whined, pulling you on his lap again, “Give me a kiss, come on.” He grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back, wondering if you should just tell him now.

You pulled away from his kiss and straddled him, he looked up at you with the same curious look he’s had all evening. “Okay,” you took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Seb raised an eyebrow at you. “See? I knew it. I knew you were up to something.” He almost purred as he ran his hands up and down your thighs.

You inched closer to him, and cupped his face in your hands so you had his undivided attention. “I love you, you know that, right? I will always love you, no matter what.”

He blinked at you, nodding.

You kept going. “And whatever happened, it was… it was so unexpected. I wouldn’t call it a mistake but I- I didn’t think it through at the moment. But that doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

He sat up a little straighter, grabbing your hips so you don’t fall off his lap. He blinked once again. “Baby, what are you talking about?” His heart raced just a little. He had no idea where this was going.

You sighed, and looked down at his bare chest. You brought your hand down and traced along his freckles and indents of his muscles. “Um, recently you’ve been gone a lot. And I’m fine with it really, I mean I know you work so much and how important work is for you. But I… I was so lonely and vulnerable at the time and he just-,”

Seb cut you off with a look of horror on his face. “He? Who’s ‘he’?” He looked like he was confused, angry and surprised all at once.

“Baby, just listen, okay? It didn’t mean anything, it’s not… I wasn’t supposed to get attached but then you know, I-,”

Seb cut you off by sitting up straighter and he grabbed both your wrists and held them away from his face. “Attached? To who? You… you found somebody else?”

You sighed, “Baby… I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

His eyes widened. “What the hell are you talking about? Did you- do you… did you cheat on me?” His voice cracked a little by the end.

You lowered your head in shame. “I… I met him through a friend, they know each other and he was staying with her until he found a new place. And he came along with her when I invited them for dinner the other night. You were away at that time, and I… it wasn’t supposed to but it just happened.”

Seb repeated your words in his mind. It just happened… it just happened?

He grabbed your thigh and pushed you to the side, gently. His movements were so slow as he got up from the couch with a frown on his face. “What… what do you mean ‘it just happened’?” He walked a few steps away, stopping by the fireplace and then turned to look at you. You sat criss-cross on the couch, lowering your face still. “Look at me!” You could hear the disbelief in his voice.

You lifted your head up to look at him. His body flushed with the anger he was having trouble containing. He ran his fingers through his short hair, his muscles flexing as he did.

“I’m sorry.” You murmured.

He looked at you like the apology only drove another dagger through his heart. “You’re sorry?” He sounded defeated. “You cheat on me, and that’s all you have to say? That you’re sorry?”

“Babe, I-,”

He snapped. “Don’t call me that!” He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair again as he paced in front of the fireplace. “Why.. how did- when did you…” he stopped rambling. Too many thoughts ran through his mind all at once. He was having trouble breathing, and his head was pounding - he felt like he was going to be sick.

“When they came over for dinner that night, uh, we all had a little too much to drink and I couldn’t let them drive back home so I offered that they spend the night and leave in the morning. And that’s when I… I got to know him a little more and…” You looked at Seb and found him staring at you, his heart breaking, “and that’s when-,”

“Enough.” He looked away, hands on his waist. “So you just- why are you even telling me this right now? Why tell me at all? Because you couldn’t live with yourself, or is it… is it because you’re in love with him or something?”

Your silence gave him the answer he needed.

“What the fuck? You’re just gonna throw away all we had for this dude? Who the hell is he anyways? You know I’m gonna find out who he is and I’m gonna make sure it hurts when I-,”

You got up from the couch and walked over to him, placing your hands on either side of his waist. His skin was warmer than usual. “Seb please, I care about him.”

Seb looked at you like you spoke some other language. “What bullshit is this?” His heart was beating like crazy, an unpleasant chill dancing down his spine as he felt the tips of his fingers getting numb. “You… you what? Are you-,” He stopped talking abruptly, panic showing all over his face briefly before it was replaced by burning anger. He pushed your hands away from his body. “Is he… is he here right now?” He gestured upstairs. “Are you keeping him here? Has he been here this whole time?”

“Baby, just listen okay? He needed a place to-,”

Seb cut you off by rushing past you and rushing to the drawer where he kept a spare gun, always. You ran after him.

“Seb, wait.” You caught up with him at the stairs. “Just wait, okay, I-,”

He cut you off by grabbing your wrist and tugging you along as he rushed up the stairs. “So not only do you cheat on me, but you let him stay in our own home?” He sounded like he was trying so hard not to unleash the beast inside at you. “What did you think, you were gonna convince me and all three of us would live happily ever after?”

You remained quiet, you hadn’t expected this to turn so violent so soon.

When you reached the landing upstairs, Seb pushed you against the wall, almost growling in anger as he caged you in. “I’ll deal with you later, babygirl. But first I’m gonna deal with your little boy toy and I’m gonna make you watch as I hurt him.” He meant it, every single word. “Where is he?” he asked, his voice dropping so low that you visibly shivered.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “Don’t hurt him.” You murmured and his hands were shaking with all the emotions that he was having trouble dealing with all at once.

He chuckled, darkly. You looked into his eyes and they had darkened too. “Don’t tell me what to do, babygirl. Do you really think you can protect him?” He leaned in closer, his lips just inches away from yours, “Where is he?” He asked slowly.

There was no way for you to get out of this one. “The… guest room.”

Seb didn’t move for a few seconds, his brain still processing all of what just happened in the span of a few minutes. His heart was breaking more and more with each passing moment. “I’m gonna burn this whole house down,” he grabbed your wrist again, tugging you further down the hallway and towards the guest room, “With him in it.” He growled the last bit.

He gave you a piercing look as you reached the guest room. He let go of your hand and cocked his gun. He didn’t even think twice as he burst through the door, “You piece of-,”

You heard how his voice died down into a groan. You pushed open the door even wider and took a step further in, you crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe. You giggled at the sight in front of you.

Seb clutched his chest as he fell onto his knees on the floor, exhaling loudly and lowering his head to the floor. And in front of him was the little ball of black and white fur - your new pup, a baby Border Collie.

Your friend was fostering him, and she brought the pup along when she came over for dinner the other night and told you about how he needed a forever home. You hadn’t thought about having a dog just yet, but when you saw this little baby that night, you knew you had to keep him. So you did, and you hadn’t told Seb about it right away.

And well, he just found out.

“Isn’t he handsome?” You asked, and upon hearing your voice, the little one yelped and ran over to you on its little legs. You giggled as you picked him up and walked further into the room, which was filled with everything a dog could need. You went over and knelt right in front of Seb, holding up the pup, making them both face each other.

“Don’t burn the house down. I’m sorry I cheated on you with this handsome boy.” You teased.

Seb finally lifted his head to look at you both. He hissed, “I think I’m having a heart attack. Or my blood pressure is really really high.” He locked his gun and tossed it to the side. “Woman, you’re killing me.”

You rolled your eyes at Seb. “Oh stop your theatrics.” You looked down at your new dog, stroking his soft fur. “Did you really think I would cheat on you?” When you looked back up at your boyfriend, he was looking down at the dog.

“You scared me for a moment. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t think, I just...” He groaned. “You really know how to mess with me, don’t you?”

You giggled, and he threw you a dirty look before picking up the pup from your arms to inspect it better. “So this little guy kept you company while I was gone?” The little one yelped and started licking Seb’s chin eagerly. “I think I’ll forgive him, good thing he’s cute.”

You watched them both, smiling like crazy. “I named him Kenny.”

You then spent the next hour explaining how you got the dog and hung out with your new pet, until Kenny fell asleep. And while you stepped out of the room, Seb grabbed you and pushed you against the wall again, just outside the guest room.

“I hope you know that had there been a guy in there, I would shoot him first and ask questions later.” He whispered before pressing his lips to yours.

You smiled into the kiss, giggling when he bit down on your lip. “You crazy man,” You pulled away to look into his eyes. “I love you, I wouldn’t do that to you, to us.”

“Hmm,” he leaned in to kiss your neck. “Don’t you dare leave me.” He mumbled against your skin. “I mean it.”

“Else you’re gonna burn this house down?” You teased him for his dramatic threat earlier.

He groaned, pinching your butt and making you squeal. “Or I’m gonna burn this whole city to the ground,” he corrected you, “And everyone in it.” He added, making you chuckle as you pulled him in for another kiss.

Seb had gotten rid of your dress before you even made it to your bedroom.

You laughed as you made him chase you around the room, and he groaned each time he missed you. “Come here, you little-,” He finally caught you and pinned you down on the bed, straddling you and gripping your wrists in his hands as he leaned down to kiss you. “You better make up for almost giving me a stroke, babygirl.” He murmured.

You gasped as he bit down on your neck, kissing and licking along your throat. “And you better make up for being away so much.” You sassed.

He chuckled. “Well then, we both have a lot to make up for it seems.”

Seb placed his mouth on top of yours to swallow your whimpers and moans as he pushed his cock into you. He groaned as he pushed himself fully into you. He lifted his head and watched you grimace in pleasure and pain as his cock stretched you out. He watched you in awe as your lips parted and you moaned his name once he filled you up nicely.

You whined as he slowly slipped out of you completely, before slamming back into you with a slightly bigger force.

He groaned at the feeling of your walls wrapped around him, squeezing and clenching around him. You heard him swear and felt him bite down on your lip as he sped up into you. He tugged on your lips and he started moving his hips; rocking into you slowly, then gradually increasing his speed. Your back arched off the surface of the bed again and your chest pressed to his.

He moaned into your ear. “You’re mine.”

“Baby…” You were a moaning mess under him in no time. There was something about the way he kissed you, deeply and passionately; as though he was scared you might just get away from him.

He worshipped your body. He mumbled how good you felt in your ear, groaning as you bucked your hips to meet each one of his thrusts as well. He kissed you roughly as he pounded into you; fingers wrapped around your throat. He fucked you raw and relentlessly, watching how your face morphed into frowns of pleasure.

He pressed his forehead on yours; looking down to where your bodies connected so intimately. Then he pulled away to look into your eyes with that animalistic, primal and fiery look in his eyes. His lips parted as he panted while he fucked you like he owned you.

“You missed me, didn’t you, babygirl?”

You nodded, whining in pleasure. He smirked. His hand left your neck and slid in between your connected bodies and furiously rubbed your clit, earning a loud moan out of you.

“Say it, baby. Tell me how much you missed my cock buried deep inside you…”

You couldn’t talk as the pressure in between your legs became too much to handle, and you craved for release.

He cooed, “Missed me so much it had you acting up. Scheming for ways to torture me for being away from you for so long…” a dark chuckle followed his words, “For not being here to fuck this greedy little cunt, huh?”

He noticed that you were too much in a haze to respond. So he just slipped his tongue back into your mouth and took your bottom lip between his teeth again.

“Come on, cum for me babygirl…,” he swore as he felt you clench around him perfectly. You came hard around him, moaning and whimpering under him as he finished right after you; kissing your swollen lips deeply as he came.

He pushed his face into the crook of your neck as he caught his breath. And you cradled his head; panting as well. Your fingers gently massaged his scalp as he calmed his racing heart. “I’ve missed you so much.” You mumbled.

A few moments later, he shifted all his weight right on top of you making you laugh as you tried to scoot out from under him.

He groaned and pulled you closer. “Come here.” He pressed you against his body and wrapped his arms around. “I love you. So much. Don’t you ever leave me.”

You buried your face into his chest, inhaling his scent. “Never happening. You’re my one and only.”

#cherry!seb #sebastian stan #sebastian stan au #mob!seb #sebastian stan smut

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cafedanslanuit · 3 years

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♡ — pairing: eren x reader

♡ — tags/warnings: mentions of cheating and alcohol. side aruani and yumihisu. honestly just a feel-good fic, with humour and fluff <3

♡ — a/n: honestly, this is the most “romantic comedy” fic i’ve ever written and i love it <3 shout out to @ofoceansandtombstones that beta read this one mwah thank u

♡ — masterlist

There was an ill taste in your mouth that wouldn’t go away, no matter how many drinks you had. And you already had more than a few. From your spot on the table, you could see your friends dancing and having the time of their lives. You really wished you could join them. Nevertheless, you had wasted all your energy forcing a smile and clapping along during the ceremony. Once you had arrived at the hotel reception with the rest of the guests, you had slid a bill to a kind waitress and told her to keep the drinks coming.

Ymir and Historia were dancing in front of you. Stoic, sour-faced Ymir couldn’t help but smile as her sweet girlfriend twirled and giggled, her cheeks red and eyes just the tiniest bit unfocused. Next to them, Sasha, Jean and Connie were owning the dance floor, moving in sync to the happy music. A grin formed on your face as you saw Connie lifting Sasha up and her almost falling to the floor. Jean was holding his stomach as he laughed loudly.

On a nearby table, Mikasa looked over at them, a small smile on his lips. She was sitting next to her girlfriend, who was holding her hand as they watched their friends dance. You saw her girlfriend leaning over to her and whispering something in her ear, to which she chuckled. It was so strange -and so beautiful- to see Mikasa laugh that it took you aback. And apparently, also the girl she was with, because her lips slightly parted as she watched her in awe.

“How’s the party animal doing?”

You looked up and saw Eren staring down at you with a funny expression. He was wearing black dress pants and a white shirt. The first two buttons were undone, and he was carrying his suit jacket over his shoulder and a beer on his other hand.

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye out for everyone,” you replied with a shrug. Eren scoffed and took the seat next to you on the empty table, leaving his jacket on the nearest chair.

“I mean, I know attending your ex’s wedding isn’t bound to be a good time, but you’d think you would try to put on a happy face.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hey, at least I’m here.”

“After Mikasa tried her best to convince you during a whole week,” he said. You turned your head to Eren, eyes wide open. “What? Of course she told me.”

“That little… That’s it, I’m going to tell her girlfriend about that one time Mikasa got drunk with us,” you muttered angrily, standing up. Eren was quicker and pulled you back to your seat.

“You and Armin broke up a year ago. Why are you so upset he’s moving on?”

Before you could answer, the music stopped and the dance floor erupted in applause. Eren and you watched as Armin and Annie walked in between their guests, greeting everyone as they made their way to the bride and groom table, covered with a pearl cloth and decorated with the finest flowers. Every detail screamed elegance and you knew Armin had been the one to decide most of it. It had his taste written in every napkin and strategically placed flower.

Armin’s smile was almost too big for his face and if you had to guess, those small red marks on the external corner of his eyes meant he had been crying just a few minutes ago. You rolled your eyes. So sentimental. On the other hand, Annie’s smile was far less noticeable, but for someone who always repressed her public displays of emotions as much, that little smile must have felt heavenly to her new husband.

Husband. You took a big gulp of your drink.

“I’m telling you this because I care for you,” Eren said, redirecting your attention to him. “You’re looking like a petty ex.”

“Rather be petty than a cheater,” you shrugged, finishing your drink. You gestured to the waitress and she immediately walked to you, handing you a full glass. Thanking her, you wasted no time in taking a sip.

Eren’s eyebrows were deeply furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Armin never told you why we broke up, right?”

Eren scooted his chair closer to you and you bit back a laugh.

“He said you just weren’t good together,” he said, trying to remember his friend’s words. “And you said something similar when I asked you back then. Where does this ‘cheating’ thing come from?”

You let out a long sigh. “Maybe it wasn’t cheating. Not by definition, at least. But when your boyfriend starts dating someone else a week after you broke up a two-year-long relationship and he gets engaged four months later… you draw your own conclusions,” you explained, taking another sip of your drink and making a grimace. “Fuck, this one’s strong.”

After not getting a response from Eren for a long moment, you finally turned to look for his emerald eyes. You could almost see the numbers flying around his mind, trying to make sense of everything you had just told him. It was endearing.

“Wait, no-- wait,” Eren gestured at you with his hand. He stopped himself again and took a sip of his beer. “The first time Armin told me about Annie was in February. I remember it clearly. We were shopping for Mikasa’s birthday gift and then he went to pick something for Annie. And you guys broke up around Halloween, that’s the time I found you crying-- in Jean's backyard during our costume party.”

“We had a big fight at that party. We hadn’t broken up,” you clarified with a smirk. “He broke up with me after Mikasa’s birthday party. The same party he convinced me not to attend.”

Eren’s face dropped once all the pieces clicked together. He turned his body to look at the bride and groom table, where Armin and Annie were taking a sip of their champagne glasses and talking to each other enthusiastically, while the rest of their guests kept dancing.

“That son of a bitch,” he breathed out. You burst out laughing at his reaction. “No, I mean it! I really thought you had broken up during that Halloween party! You didn’t upload any more photos together, I don’t even remember even seeing you together--”

“I told you, we were fighting and… not in the mood for photos or public dates. Most of those months were spent at his apartment, fighting over really, really stupid things or just not texting each other for days,” you explained. “Honestly, when he broke up with me he made the decision I was too afraid to take. He was right, we weren’t good for each other anymore. But... fuck,” you chuckled icily. “I wish he would have broken up with me before getting with Annie.”

Eren listened in silence, his eyes still on his friend. You gave him time as you kept drinking, your gaze drifting to your friends again. You really wished you could have the energy to join them and forget Armin and Annie. It was true you didn’t love him anymore, yet seeing them together only made you remember how you had been fooled by someone you thought loved you the most.

You had had many dates ever since, but no one ever stuck. It was fun, getting someone’s attention for a couple of weeks, but then you couldn’t help but ghost them, putting up shitty excuses like wanting to focus on yourself and not having enough time to spare with them. You had lost so many amazing opportunities with both boys and girls that a couple of months ago you had decided to stop dating at all. It was lonely for sure, but at least you didn’t find yourself feeling guilty for not being able to open yourself up emotionally for someone else.

“Want to get back at him?”

You turned to Eren so fast you almost hurt your neck.

“What?”

“I have an idea. Just play along,” he explained, standing up.

“Eren, hey, what are you--”

“Everybody! If you could give me a minute please!”

You watched horrified as your friends started turning to you and Eren, confused at the commotion. Eren kept waving his hand, gathering more and more people’s attention, Armin and Annie included. He even gestured to the DJ to lower the music and she complied. In a few seconds, all the guests of the party were looking at you, who was still sitting down with a confused expression, a drink in your hand. Once he deemed enough people were looking at him, you saw him fumbling with his hands nervously.

“Eren,” you called for him again in a whisper, but all he did was take the drink you had in your hands and put it on the table.

“Sorry for interrupting, I know a lot of you were having a lot of fun dancing. But all I’m asking is one minute of your time. I hope that’s okay with you guys,” he grinned back to the bride and groom table, where they were as confused as all the guests around. “I have something really important to say.”

“Eren, no, you can’t tell them about--”

“No, no, give me a moment,” he hushed you again. The DJ walked to both of you and handed an inalambric microphone to Eren.

You didn’t like how devilish his smile turned.

“Great, thanks, this is much better,” he told the DJ, who just kindly smiled at him. “Anyway, I don’t want to take much of the bride and groom’s time, so I’ll try to be concise. The thing is…” he said, turning to face you. “I love you.”

Your mouth flew open as you heard multiple gasps coming from the guests. Yet, you couldn’t bother with looking anywhere but Eren’s eyes. What was he doing? Since when did he have feelings for you? If he wanted to say something, he could have easily said something a few minutes ago, when--

Just play along.

Oh.

Your questioning glare turned into a big smile and you noticed Eren softly nodding at you.

“You already know how much I love you. Honestly, I never get tired of telling you so. And hiding our love from our friends has probably been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Sorry about that, Mikasa,” he said, gesturing to the woman.

You could imagine your friend’s dumbfounded face, but you knew better than to turn and check for yourself. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hold in your laughter.

“So I’m here in front of all our friends and some other guests I don’t know to ask a simple question.”

In a swift movement, Eren got down on one knee. Your hand flew to cover your mouth, trying your best to hide any trace of laughing on your face. The flash of the cameras startled you for a moment, but that only meant Eren’s plan was working. The excited murmurs and squeals only fueled Eren, as he pulled up a ring and showed it to you. You immediately recognized it as one of the rings he had been wearing a few moments ago.

“Would you marry me?”

A huge, honest grin made its way to your face and you nodded quickly. You grabbed the microphone Eren was holding and spoke right into it.

“Yes, I’ll marry you!”

You hadn’t listened to a crowd erupting in applause and cheers as loud as the guests at Armin’s wedding when Eren slid his ring on your finger. Once again, the flash of the cameras were right into the both of you as you leaped into his arms. He stood up while holding your body close to him, even giving you a small spin and you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

When he finally put you down, the music resumed and all your friends began running to the both of you.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you whispered to Eren, holding his face between your hands. He laughed.

“Kinda ruined the reception, huh?”

“When the fuck did this happen?” Jean inquired as soon as he reached you.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell us?” Sasha whined, with a small pout. “But congratulations!” she quickly followed, hugging you tightly. As you hugged her back, you felt someone taking the hand that was now wearing Eren’s ring.

“This is one of your rings,” she noted, shooting Eren a dirty glance. He lifted his hands in surrender.

“Hey, I didn’t plan this! But I will get her a prettier one soon,” he said, winking at you. You laughed and shook your head.

“Nah, I like this one,” you replied. You shared a knowing grin and soon it was Connie’s turn to hug you.

While you were hugging your friend back, you saw in the corner of your eye Armin getting up from the table and starting to walk to both of you. Your smile immediately vanished from your face and once Eren caught it and followed your eye trail, he understood the reason why. You heard him mutter a curse before he pulled you from Connie’s embrace.

“Well, we’d love to stay, but my fiancée and I want some time alone.”

“C’mon, you haven’t told us yet how you got together!” Sasha complained.

“Next time, we promise,” you hurriedly assured her.

Eren picked his suit jacket from the table and before Armin could reach your group, you quickly walked away, exiting the hotel. Eren whistled to a taxi and you jumped inside, telling the man behind the wheel to drive. Loud laughter filled the vehicle as soon as it began moving.

“How-- how did you even have this idea?” you asked him, holding your stomach as you laughed. “Dude, Armin looked so upset, we totally stole his thunder.”

“That was the plan,” Eren shrugged, a winning smirk on his lips. “Knowing the gang, everybody’s going to be talking about us and the engagement for the rest of the party.”

“Remind me to never have you as an enemy,” you chuckled, leaning back on the car seat. Letting out a long sigh, you took off Eren’s ring and handed it to him.

He shook his head. “Nah, keep it. As a souvenir of today,” he winked.

“Thank you,” you smiled. You put the ring on your thumb this time, since it was too big for your ring finger anyway. “You didn’t have to do this at all, and yet--”

“It’s okay,” he assured you.

“No, really. It’s just-- I’ve been having a tough time since the breakup,” you admitted. “To have you doing this for me means a lot. Makes me feel someone really cares for me. I never said anything to anyone back then because Annie is also a part of the group and I thought…”

Eren leaned his head towards you.

“You thought…?”

“I thought you would pick her too. It’s stupid, I know,” you shrugged, turning your head to Eren. “But Armin had just broken up with me and a week later he was already in public with Annie. Back then, I thought everyone knew we had just broken up and if no one had said anything was because they didn’t care. So I just… stopped hanging out with all of you as much as I did before.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” he muttered.

“You did?”

Eren nodded. “That’s why I asked Mikasa to pressure you into coming to the wedding. I hadn’t seen you in a while.”

“You could have just asked me to hang out, you know,” you teased him. Eren chuckled, pushing some of his loose hairs behind his ear.

“I think we know by now I don’t take the conventional route.”

“Yeah, all of the guests know that too,” you quipped, making both of you laugh.

This time, when the laughter came to an end, you realized how close your faces were. Your noses were almost brushing as you both were lying your heads on the back of the car seat. You looked into Eren’s emerald eyes and noticed he wasn’t looking away from yours either. Was it the alcohol that made his cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink? If it was, then you could say the warmth crawling up your face was its fault too. It had to be the alcohol, or else, you would have to also ponder about the reason your heart was beating out of your chest at having your friend so close to you. He was handsome, he had always been and you knew this. But why were you losing all your composure just now?

A brief look at Eren's lips gave your thoughts away and, in less than two seconds, he was pressing his lips against yours.

For a spur-of-the-moment kiss, as you thought this one was, it was rather soft. Eren kissed you as if he thought you were the most expensive and fragile thing he had ever seen. But of course, this was just a product of the adrenaline and the fact that -as far as you knew- he hadn’t been dating anyone as well, right?

Your small theory crashed and burnt when you felt his hand softly cradling the side of your face. No. This wasn’t an adrenaline kiss, neither one that you gave without a thought. Maybe it had been unprompted and maybe you hadn’t seen it coming, but it sure as hell seemed he did. Eren’s lips gilded against your with ease, revealing a soft tenderness you didn’t know he possessed. You kissed him back, matching his rhythm as you softly pressed your hand against his chest.

Eren pulled away from you softly, and if his longing eyes were any indicator, a bit reluctantly.

“Hi,” he breathed out, making you grin widely.

“Hi,” you replied. You gently caressed his cheek with the knuckles of the hand that was previously resting on his chest. Eren took it and kissed your palm, making your heart flutter.

“Sorry to interrupt kids, but where are we heading?”

The voice of the taxi driver startled you, making you pull away from Eren. He chuckled at your reaction and then looked back at the man.

“Take us to that pizza place near the central park. Gotta have a celebratory dinner with my fiancée,” he said cheekily, taking your hand into his. You squeezed his hand back, his ring digging a little on your skin.

“So young and engaged already? Congrats!” the driver said, turning left and heading towards the direction Eren had given him.

“Thank you!” you smiled brightly at Eren while he took your joint hands to his mouth and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

A part of you knew you weren’t taking that ring off anytime soon.

#snk x reader #aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #eren fluff

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miekasa · 3 years

Note

okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.

#anonymous #yeah this is a roast of erwin a bit but im right i know i am #aot x reader #levi x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #connie springer x reader #armin x reader #erwin x reader #porco x reader #aot headcanons

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labomi · 3 years

Text

selfish | two (18+)

Summary: You’re a former coworker of Kento Nanami back when he was just an office worker. You accidentally run into him at a bakery many years later which gives you a second chance at getting to know the man who had always caught your eye.

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f!Reader

Words: 8.6k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+ only), vaginal sex, creampie, explicit language, alcohol

Notes: I’m so happy to get this out finally ajsfdsld thank you for all the lovely comments on the first part! I’m so glad people enjoyed it enough to convince me to write more! This will definitely be the last part for this fic, but I do have plans for more Nanami things in the future. Thanks for reading! It’s also up on my ao3 if you prefer to read it there!

Index: [Part One] [Part Two]

You were moving boxes in the storage room when you heard the chime of the front door opening. With a sudden jolt, you realized you had forgotten to change the sign from “open” to “closed” before cleaning up. Cursing at yourself for the careless mistake, you hoped the customer wouldn’t be too upset that the shop was actually shut down for the night.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed,” you politely explained, emerging from the back room. But one look at the tall figure by the door caused you to stop in your tracks. A large smile grew on your face when you saw exactly who had entered the shop.

Nanami was still in his normal work attire, but he had left behind his signature blazer and sunglasses. The top few buttons of his blue dress shirt were undone, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. You unconsciously licked your lips.

“I can make an exception for you though,” you teased with a wink before walking around the counter to greet your boyfriend.

As you waltzed into his open arms, Nanami leaned down to give you a sweet kiss as a greeting. You sighed happily against his lips. It felt so good to be with him after a long, tiring day. His presence always made you feel safe and warm. Like nothing could ever possibly go wrong as long as you were in his embrace.

Nanami’s hands latched onto your waist as he tried to deepen the kiss, but you reluctantly pulled away with a groan of frustration.

“As much as I’d like to continue, I have to finish closing up shop,” you complained with a pout.

Nanami kissed the top of your head before releasing you. “It’s alright. I’ll wait.”

You changed the sign on the door to “closed” to prevent any unwanted guests from entering the shop. You then wiped down all the counters and properly stored the leftover ingredients. Once finished with all your tasks, you took off your apron and shoved it in your bag.

“I’m ready!” you called out to Nanami as you started to shut off all the lights. The two of you exited the now dark shop before you locked the front door.

Whenever you had a closing shift, Nanami always came to walk you home. You found it absolutely endearing. Even though you didn’t particularly mind traveling alone at night, the walk to your apartment was always more pleasant when the sorcerer was by your side.

It was almost midnight. The normally busy streets were now devoid of both cars and other pedestrians. You loved sharing these quiet moments with Nanami. Just the two of you enjoying each other’s presence with no one else around. Nanami preferred it this way too, especially because he wasn’t a particular fan of PDA.

You were holding onto Nanami’s hand as he quietly walked beside you. “How was work today?” you asked.

Nanami was a little sensitive about discussing his job as a sorcerer with you. He always refused to share the details of his missions, but he begrudgingly answered your general questions about his workday with vague responses.

“It was fine.” He squeezed your hand lightly. “I was able to get off early.”

“Lucky you! I wish I could have finished earlier,” you complained with a huff. “Closing shift is the worst.”

“Did you eat dinner at least?”

You nodded. “I got some takeout during my break.”

“Good.” He knew you had a bad habit of skipping dinner while you were working. You found it more convenient to just eat a granola bar, especially when it was busy. But Nanami always lightly chastised you when you did this, so you had been making more of an effort to eat better.

The two of you finally arrived at your apartment. Once inside, you immediately emptied out of your bag and threw your apron into the laundry hamper. Luckily, you were off of work for the next two days.

“Kento, you’re staying the night, right?” The sorcerer was still standing in your living room.

“I have to report to work early tomorrow. I don’t want to wake you.”

You rolled your eyes at him with a sigh. Nanami was too considerate of you sometimes. “You never wake me up. Plus, I have my 9 am class tomorrow, so I have to be up early anyway.”

Nanami knew you were right. Unlike him, you slept like the dead. Frankly, he was a little jealous. The sorcerer had always been a sensitive sleeper, but he found it much easier to relax in your presence. Since the two of you had started dating, the quality of his sleep remarkably improved.

“I’ll stay.” You grinned smugly. It didn’t take much to convince him to sleep over.

“Good. I’m going to shower.”

The two of you rarely spent the night apart from one another, alternating between each other’s apartments based on the convenience for the night. Nanami had his own toiletries, pajamas, and spare clothes in your apartment, and you had your own set of things at his place as well.

As you took your shower, Nanami changed into his sleepwear and sat on your couch, reading one of many books he left at your place. Once you announced you were done using the bathroom, the sorcerer placed a bookmark and set the book back down on your coffee table. You were already in the bedroom, changing into your pajamas and packing your bag for class tomorrow, knowing you would forget something if you waited until the morning.

You looked up as Nanami entered the room after washing up. You still found it relatively amusing to see him in such casual clothes: a pair of plaid pajama pants and a thin white t-shirt. But you were glad that only you got to see him like this. The man was the perfect example of prim and proper in public, but at home, he found it more appropriate to dress comfortably. And you thought he looked absolutely adorable. Especially with his unstyled hair.

After the lights were turned off, the two you snuggled in bed together and kissed each other goodnight. Within seconds, you were already fast asleep, exhausted from the long day. Nanami listened to the sound of your deep, even breathing. He felt completely at ease with you safely pressed against him. It wasn’t long before he followed you into a deep sleep.

---

Nanami’s life was simple before he met you at that bakery.

He went to work, came back home, read a book, had a glass of scotch, and made some dinner. The cycle repeated nearly every day, but Nanami didn’t particularly mind. He liked having a simple, predictable routine.

Once you reentered his life, things were a bit different. A bit more exciting. He wasn’t complaining.

Instead of only buying groceries for himself, he made sure to also buy your favorite snacks. Instead of making a reservation for one at a restaurant, he asked for a table for two. Instead of placing one set of utensils on his dining table, he always put down two.

Jujutsu sorcerers were a lonely group of people. They often felt isolated from the general population, born with unique abilities that allowed them to see things that most other people could not.

It was a difficult path. Sorcerers faced a life full of constant battle and death. And the only people who could relate to their hardships were the same people dying by their sides.

For this reason, sorcerers rarely interacted with people outside the jujutsu community. They saw themselves as an outsider to the rest of society. A society that was blissfully unaware of the existence of curses.

But it was different with you.

When Nanami was with you, he didn’t feel like an outsider or a jujutsu sorcerer.

He felt like a normal man.

The activities that Nanami once did alone were now the same activities he enjoyed doing together with you. He took you to his favorite bakery to pick out fresh bread every week. He escorted you to well-reviewed restaurants he had been meaning to visit. He even brought you to his beloved local bookstore, the one place he had been visiting for years as a regular customer.

The first time he took you into the shop, the owner couldn’t help but notice the way your hands were intertwined with one another. As you browsed through the shelves on your own, the old woman suggestively waggled her eyebrows at Nanami.

“So you got a lady now?” she asked curiously.

Nanami thought it was a little odd that she was somehow keeping tabs on his relationship status, but he nodded anyway.

“Ah! She’s a pretty one!”

You suddenly reappeared with a tall stack of secondhand books in your arms. “Kento! This place is amazing! I’m going to buy all of these!”

“Oh, definitely a keeper too,” the owner commented.

Nanami found himself agreeing.

He didn’t know if you could be any more perfect.

Nanami had always enjoyed cooking. He loved the process of selecting a recipe, buying fresh ingredients, and turning them into a delicious, home-cooked meal. But he learned that enjoyed cooking even more when it was for you.

The sorcerer was appalled to hear that you hardly ever cooked for yourself. He had surveyed the state of your freezer in utter disgust. It was crammed full of boxes of microwavable meals and several pints of ice cream. You defended yourself vehemently, claiming that you were too busy to cook between classes, work, and study sessions. The microwave was the easiest and quickest appliance to use after all. And sometimes you just wanted ice cream for dinner.

Nanami took it upon himself to make sure you were eating proper, nutritious meals. In his eyes, it was less of a chore and more of a hobby. He enjoyed learning what you liked. He looked forward to hearing your thoughts about a recipe. He loved the way your eyes lit up whenever he presented a new dish. The sorcerer had even subscribed to food magazines and bought some international cookbooks just to try out with you.

Every morning, Nanami packed you a healthy lunch to ensure you wouldn’t just eat a granola bar for the entire day. And whenever the two of you both had a free night, you always ate dinner together.

In particular, Friday nights had become a weekly tradition between the two of you. Nanami would prepare a special dinner with some fancy wine. The two of you would even dress up a little to celebrate the start of the weekend.

You knocked on Nanami’s door one Friday night, wearing a simple yet elegant dress with just a hint of makeup on your face. The door opened and you were instantly greeted by the mouth-watering smell of whatever the man was cooking in the kitchen. But the sight of Nanami was even more distracting. He was wearing an apron over a tight black button-up shirt with gray slacks. You bit your lip softly, eyeing him appreciatively.

While you enjoyed going out to eat in a restaurant, there was something more intimate about Nanami cooking dinner at home just for the two of you. Plus, the atmosphere was always lovely. His apartment was clean, spacious, and well-decorated. Whatever jujutsu sorcerers got paid, it was clearly more than enough.

“It smells good,” you hummed. “What are you making tonight?”

The sorcerer never revealed dinner to you in advance. For some reason, he always wanted to keep it a surprise.

“Homemade linguine with shrimp. I also got some fresh bread to go along with it.”

Your eyes lit up instantly. “Oooh, sounds delicious! I didn’t know you knew how to make pasta from scratch.”

Everything that Nanami prepared was always amazing. There was never a meal he made that you didn’t enjoy. The first time he cooked you dinner, you almost wanted to propose to him right then and there. A man with those looks and proper culinary skills? You felt like the luckiest person in the world.

You always offered to help Nanami while he was cooking but he would gently shoo you out of the kitchen every time. You weren’t sure if it was because he wanted you to sit back and relax or if it was because he thought you would mess things up.

It was probably the latter.

(Most definitely the latter.)

Due to your clear lack of culinary expertise, you were in charge of cleaning all the pots and pans and loading the dishwasher. You couldn’t complain.

Your post-dinner activities were always the same. The two of you would play a movie and then immediately proceed to ignore it for the rest of the night.

Tonight was no different.

You moaned loudly, writhing about on the couch. “Kento, fuck.”

Your dress was hiked up around your hips, underwear already discarded with Nanami’s face in between your legs. You were already shuddering through your second orgasm of the night with Nanami eagerly lapping up your fluids. His strong arms locked your thrashing legs into place as you gripped the edges of the couch, riding out the last few waves of intense pleasure.

You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes as he pulled back, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “Ready?” he asked in a deep voice. His pupils were blown open in lust. You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. The man gathered you in his arms and headed to the bedroom.

He carefully set you down on unsteady legs as he pulled the zipper down your dress until the garment fell and landed in a heap on the ground. To his pleasant surprise, you were already braless. You turned around and started to slowly unbutton Nanami’s dress shirt, taking your sweet time. His gaze raked over your entire figure, causing your fingers to fumble as you flushed from the intensity of his stare. Eventually, Nanami had enough. He threw you on the bed and quickly shed the rest of his clothes on his own.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, climbing on the bed and hovering over you. His large, calloused hands roamed all over your bare skin while his mouth focused on sucking at the sensitive spots on your neck.

You relished the feel of Nanami’s touch all over you, but one glance at his painfully hard cock had your cunt begging to be filled.

“Kento,” you whined. “I can’t wait. Fuck me, please. I need you inside me, right now.”

Nanami sheathed his entire length inside you with just one sharp thrust. He proceeded to fuck you hard and fast, just the way you liked. Each snap of his hips left you a complete mess underneath him, moaning his name over and over again. It was just barely audible over the lewd, wet sounds of your desperate cunt squeezing around him.

Nanami grabbed one of your hands and interlocked his fingers with yours. A sweet gesture as he roughly pounded you into the bed. The two of you were so worked up that it didn’t take long for the both of you to quickly become undone. You arched your back and tightly gripped Nanami’s hand as uncontrollable pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. Nanami groaned your name as he sloppily thrust into you several more times before flooding your cunt with his cum.

When he finally pulled out, Nanami was satisfied to see his seed trickling out of you.

“Kento,” you called his name, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze.

The man adjusted his position so he was now laying next to you. He kissed you sweetly and whispered praises of you as you giggled breathlessly.

“Hmm, I don’t want to get out of bed and clean up yet.”

“Then don’t,” Nanami said with a devious look in his eyes.

It was then that you felt his length hardening once again against your thigh. He suddenly pulled you on top of him as he laid on his back. The movement caused your sensitive folds to inadvertently rub against his dick as you straddled his hips. You gasped at the feeling, clutching at his chest to prop you up.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled.

---

It was a slow afternoon when a man entered the boba shop. He wore an all-black outfit and a matching beanie. Tufts of his disheveled brown hair stuck out from underneath.

“Hello!” You greeted him inside as his eyes flickered around the place nervously before walking up to the cash register.

“What would you like to order?”

Instead of browsing the menu, the man’s gaze was focused elsewhere. Specifically, your chest. You stood there uncomfortably, wondering if you should say something or just ignore him. But then you realized the man wasn’t being a creep. He was reading your name tag.

The man said your name out loud hesitantly.

“Yes? That’s me.” You tilted your head slightly, trying to figure out if you knew this man. Nothing about his appearance rang a bell. You then started to worry about whether or not you were supposed to recognize him. Was he a current classmate? A former coworker?

The man’s eyes instantly lit up. “You’re Nanami’s girlfriend, right?”

Your eyes widened in surprise.

Kento? He knows Kento?

“Oh, um, yes I am.” The question had taken you off guard. You weren’t expecting a random customer to mention your boyfriend’s name.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” The man smiled brightly at you, looking extremely excited. “Gojo always mentions how pretty and kind you are, so I couldn’t resist visiting when he told me you worked here.”

Gojo?

If this man knew both Nanami and Gojo, did this mean he was also a sorcerer?

The stranger had piqued your curiosity, and you just couldn’t give up the opportunity to sit down and chat with him. Luckily, it was a slow day and you convinced your coworker to allow you to take your break early. After preparing two drinks, you slipped into a booth in the back of the shop with the man taking a seat across from you.

“I’m Ino Takuma.” The man introduced himself to you.

“So, if you know Gojo and Kento, does that mean you’re a sorcerer?” You kept your voice hushed while asking, just in case your nosy coworkers were trying to listen in on your conversation.

Ino nodded. “Yep, I am.”

You couldn’t help but feel excited to meet another one of Nanami’s colleagues. He purposely tried to shield you from the jujutsu world, but it only made you more curious. Plus, you wanted to know more about what Nanami was like as a sorcerer. He was always so gentle and sweet with you. Well, except for in bed. But it was sometimes hard to imagine that he exorcised curses for a living.

“Do you know Kento well?” you asked curiously.

Ino nodded eagerly. “Yes! I worked with him on a mission once and since then, I’ve really respected him.” He blushed a little, rubbing the back of his head. “Nanami is my role model. I don’t see myself as a particularly smart guy, so whenever I don’t know what to do, I always ask myself what would Nanami do?”

Ino’s words were full of sincerity. In some ways, he reminded you of Itadori. Both of the boys seemed to admire Nanami in a way you would never understand as a non-sorcerer. But it made your heart full knowing that Nanami was a trusted mentor in his workplace.

“Does that mean Kento is strong?” You were a little hesitant to ask the question. As an outsider to the jujutsu world, you didn’t know what made a sorcerer strong. But if another sorcerer told you that Nanami was indeed powerful, you would feel comforted. You knew his job was dangerous, so you obviously worried about his safety, but you tried your best not to show it around him.

“Nanami is super strong!” Ino exclaimed, arms flailing around to emphasize his point. “He’s a Grade 1 sorcerer! That’s practically the best you can be!”

You bit back a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know. Thank you, Ino.”

The two of you continued to chat for the rest of your break, getting to know each other better. Ino even successfully squeezed out of you Nanami’s favorite bakery and favorite bookstore. He claimed he wanted to surprise the man with a gift he would actually appreciate. You encouraged him with a warm smile.

“Thank you for the tea and the conversation,” Ino said, sliding out of the booth. He hovered around you with a light blush dusting his cheeks again. “Um, next time you see Nanami, can you maybe ask him about my recommendation to a Grade 1 sorcerer? If you don’t mind that is!”

“Sure! Will do. It was great meeting you. Thank you for helping to keep Kento safe!”

Ino’s eyes widened at your words. He puffed out his chest proudly. “Of course!”

You waved at him as he exited the shop with a loud farewell.

After your shift, you had returned to your apartment to change and grab some things to spend the night at Nanami’s apartment. When you arrived at his place, the man was already setting the table for dinner. You hugged him from behind with a happy hum as finished his task. Nanami gently removed your arms from around him before turning around and greeting you with a kiss.

“Welcome home.”

“Dinner smells good,” you commented happily. “I’m starving!”

Nanami chuckled lightly. He pulled out a chair for you. “Sit down and I’ll serve you.”

The two of you sat at the table together, plates filled with delicious curry rice.

“How was your day today?” Nanami asked once you both started eating.

“Oh!” You swallowed your bite. “I actually met a coworker of yours. He came to the shop.”

“Who?” Nanami looked rather unhappy, gripping the spoon in his hand forcefully.

“Ino Takuma.”

Nanami sighed, rubbing his forehead in irritation. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to tell him to stay away from you. I have no idea how he found your workplace in the first place.”

“Huh? What? No, it’s fine! Ino was very kind and sweet. I enjoyed chatting with him. Also, don’t be too mad at him, Gojo was the one who told him about me.”

Nanami clenched his fist. The next time he saw that white-haired idiot, he was going to kill him.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “Kento, why are you so against me meeting other jujutsu sorcerers? These people are important to you, no? I want to meet them.”

Nanami refused to meet your gaze. He still wasn’t comfortable with the thought of you interacting with the jujutsu world, sorcerers included. “I’m just trying to prote—”

“Protect me, I know.” You let out a deep sigh. “But I don’t want you to hide your life as a sorcerer from me. It’s a big part of your identity, and I want to learn more about jujutsu so I can understand you, Gojo, Itadori, and everyone better.” You lowered your voice slightly. “I care about you all, you know.”

Nanami reached out across to the table to gently hold your hand. “I know,” he admitted quietly. “I’m sorry.” He knew that shielding you from the jujutsu world as much as possible wasn’t doing you or him any favors. But Nanami didn’t know what else to do. He never imagined he would be dating someone while working as a sorcerer. And he especially never imagined he would be dating a non-sorcerer.

Relationships between sorcerers and non-sorcerers rarely worked out, so Nanami tried to restrict your access to the jujutsu world as much as possible. He refused to talk about his missions with you. He tried to limit the presence of other sorcerers around you. He did this to protect you, but maybe he was doing it to protect himself instead. He didn’t want to lose you or scare you away.

“I do want to share my life as a sorcerer with you.” Nanami was struggling to find the right words. “But it’s difficult for me.” He had always envisioned his personal life and his work life as two separate spheres, but you were beginning to blur those lines. “I promise I’ll do better.”

You smiled softly, appreciating his efforts. “Well, we can take it slow.”

“Thank you.”

You were cleaning the dishes in the sink when Nanami wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face in your neck. Both of you felt so much lighter after the discussion during dinner.

“Oh!” A sudden realization popped into your mind. “I forgot to mention. Ino asked me to tell you not to forget his Grade 1 sorcerer recommendation.”

Nanami groaned in the crook of your neck. “Of course he did, that impatient kid.”

“What’s a recommendation? Are you not going to do it?”

He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Kento,” you whined.

“Alright. I’ll explain it to you after you’re done.”

---

You had just finished class when a text popped up on your phone. It was from Gojo.

Gojo: Hey! Do you want to go to dinner with me, Yuji, and Nanami tonight????

Dinner? You felt a tinge of excitement.

You: Sure! I’m free!

You didn’t know what the occasion was for, but you were grateful for the invite. Gojo often stopped by at your workplace, occasionally accompanied by Itadori, to greet you and grab a sweet drink. But you unfortunately never had the time to properly sit down with him and catch up.

Out of all sorcerers you had met so far, Gojo was the most mysterious. After all, what sort of man wore a blindfold in public? And now that you thought about it, how did he always seem to know when you were working? Especially since your work schedule differed from week to week...

Weird.

Gojo: Great! I’ll send you the time and place later~

You: Thanks! See you then!

You were about to text Nanami and tell him you were looking forward to dinner when one of your classmates called your name.

“Yes?” you asked, looking away from your phone.

“Want to join our study group? We’re heading to the library right now!”

“Yeah, sure! Coming!”

It was only after you left the library several hours later that you realized you had forgotten to text Nanami. But you figured it wasn’t a big deal since you would soon see him at dinner.

Nanami looked at his watch impatiently. It was already past 5 pm. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be back in his apartment, prepping dinner for you. “What are we doing here, Gojo? I need to get home.”

The white-haired calmly rested his arms behind his head with a suspicious smirk on his face. “Relax, Nanami. We’re waiting for a surprise.”

Itadori perked up beside him, looking up at his sensei with wide eyes. “A surprise?! What kind of surprise?”

Gojo chuckled. “The best kind.”

Nanami let out an exasperated sigh. He removed his sunglasses and put them in his pocket. The three sorcerers were standing around in the middle of a busy street filled with pedestrians. “I don’t have time for such frivolities, Gojo. Excuse me, but I’m leavi—”

“Wait!” Gojo exclaimed. He waved at someone in the crowd. “She’s here!”

“She?” Nanami repeated, trying to follow Gojo’s line of sight.

It was easy to spot Gojo, even amongst the giant, moving crowd. The tall man towered over everyone else and his bright, white hair easily stood out in the background. You could see him waving his hand at you, so you waved back.

Squeezing your way through the crowd, you joined up with the three sorcerers with an excited grin. “Hi!”

“Say hello to the surprise,” Gojo announced, waltzing over to your side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

Itadori looked thrilled to see you, but as your eyes shifted to Nanami, you immediately sensed something was wrong.

“Gojo, you did tell Kento you invited me, right?” you asked cautiously, looking up at the tall man.

The sorcerer hummed to himself for several seconds before responding. “Nope!”

You blanched. Uh oh. You should have texted him.

Nanami didn’t look too visibly upset, but he was pinching the bridge of his nose with a frown. When would that idiot stop meddling with his personal life behind his back?

“Na-na-mi,” Gojo said in a singsong voice. “Are you excited to see your stunning, beautiful, and gorgeous girlfriend? Shouldn’t you be thanking me for bringing her here?” The white-haired sorcerer pulled you even closer to him. He didn’t miss the way Nanami’s eyes instantly narrowed at him.

Nanami grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of Gojo’s grasp until you were comfortably nestled against his side. He couldn’t stand seeing that man's hands on you. “Don’t let him touch you. His idiocy is contagious.”

You giggled at the comment. Gojo let out a satisfied hum, watching the two of you together. “Alright, lovebirds!” He clapped his hands together. “It’s time for dinner!”

“Dinner?!” Itadori gasped. He started salivating at the thought of food. “Gojo-sensei, what are we eating?”

The tall sorcerer patted the top of Itadori’s head affectionately. “To celebrate Yuji’s last night as a dead man, we’re going to a steakhouse!”

The kid loudly cheered as you looked to Nanami for clarification.

“Itadori is being introduced back to the school tomorrow.”

“Oh, I see.” Gojo had told you before that the Itadori was supposed to be dead and not to mention his existence to anyone. You didn’t understand why and you didn’t ask, but you kept your promise. The young sorcerer bounced around excitedly before hugging Gojo. You couldn’t help but smile at the adorable interaction.

“Let’s hurry up, so we’re not late for our reservation.” Gojo started walking quickly through the crowd with Itadori right by his side. You and Nanami were a little ways behind them as you found it hard to keep up with Gojo’s brisk pace. He pressed a warm hand against your lower back, guiding you through the large crowd.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that Gojo invited me,” you apologized. Even though Nanami said he would be more open about the jujutsu world, you knew he was still sensitive about you spending too much time around other sorcerers. “I was going to text you but then some classmates asked me if I wanted to study with them, and I said yes because you know I need all the help I can get, and then I completely forgot to message you and by the time I left the library and actually remembered I didn’t text you, I thought it wasn’t worth it since I was going to be seeing you at dinner soon, and I, uh, yeah.” You winced, realizing you were rambling yet again.

“It’s not your fault,” he assured you. “That idiot always has something up this sleeve.”

“You’re not upset, right?”

He rubbed his hand up and down your back. It sent a tingle up your spine. “I'm not upset," Nanami replied honestly. "I’m glad you’re here.”

You slid into the booth at the steakhouse. Itadori was already seated across from you. Gojo was about to take the open seat next to you, but Nanami grabbed the back of the man’s uniform and shoved him away.

“Hey!” the sorcerer loudly complained.

Nanami sat down next to you, completely unbothered. “Sit with your student, Gojo.” You tried to stifle your laughter, looking at the two men in complete amusement.

Gojo slid into the booth next to Itadori with a carefree grin. Teasing Nanami was too easy when you were around.

The four of you had a pleasant dinner together. Your only complaint was the way Nanami rubbed your thigh with his left hand the entire time while waiting for the food to arrive. You were wearing a rather short dress which rode up as you sat down, giving him perfect access to your bare skin. It was incredibly distracting.

You were a little surprised that Nanami was doing something like this in public, even though it was mostly hidden from sight. Part of you wondered if it was because Gojo was present. Nanami always acted a little differently with you when the other sorcerer was around.

For some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling that Gojo knew exactly what was happening underneath the table. Even with his blindfold on, you could tell that the sorcerer was looking right at you with a knowing smile on his face. You felt a little flustered, but Nanami seemed completely unperturbed. Perhaps it was just your imagination.

After dinner, you followed Itadori out the front door of the restaurant.

“Ah! I’m so stuffed!” he commented with a satisfied hum, rubbing his belly.

“I hope you still have room for some dessert.”

The two of you turned back to look at Gojo. Nanami was only a couple of steps behind him.

“Oh! Dessert? Don’t worry, Sensei. I always got room for that!” He gave Gojo a thumbs up.

“Great! I happen to know an amazing ice cream shop around the corner!” You blinked in surprise as the white-haired sorcerer wrapped a long arm around your shoulder again and started ushering you towards the destination. “Let’s get going!”

What you didn’t see was the way Gojo turned his head back to send a smug look to his dear friend. Nanami glared at the sorcerer but didn’t intervene. The walk to the shop was short, and you didn’t appear to be uncomfortable, happily chatting away with Itadori about the best and worst ice cream flavors.

It wasn’t until you all arrived at the shop that you pulled away from Gojo and latched onto his arm instead. “What are you going to get?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. What do you want?” he asked.

You looked at the menu, eyes squinting in concentration. “I’m stuck between Peanut Butter Cup and Mint Chocolate Chip.”

“Pick one and I’ll get the other. We can share.”

Your eyes widened. “Really? You don’t have to.”

Nanami smiled softly at that adorable look on your face. He gently tucked a hair away from your face. “I like both of those flavors anyway.”

Itadori and Gojo silently exchanged looks with one another. They were both internally squealing at the cute exchange they just witnessed between the two of you. It was rare to see such a soft side of Nanami in public.

“Nanami,” Gojo cooed, a little jealous. “Do you want to share some ice cream with me too?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Huh? Why not?” the sorcerer whined.

“Because you’ll get the most sickening ice cream flavor of them all.”

Nanami was absolutely correct.

Gojo ordered a large cone of triple chocolate ice cream with chunks of brownies, cookie dough, and fudge mixed with swirls of caramel and marshmallow.

It was a complete abomination.

The four of you sat outside, enjoying the nice weather while indulging in ice cream. You thought it was cute how Itadori’s strawberry cone almost matched the color of his hair. Once everyone finished their dessert, the group finally split up. You waved goodbye at Gojo and Itadori. “Good luck tomorrow, Itadori!” He had shared with you earlier about how excited (and a little nervous) he was to see his classmates again. You hoped the reunion went well.

It was a quiet walk home with Nanami. The two you held hands, enjoying the calm atmosphere now that Gojo and Itadori were both gone.

As soon as you entered Nanami’s apartment, you took off your shoes as Nanami removed his blazer. “I had a good time tonight,” you mused. “Itadori is such a sweetie, and Gojo—”

Your words were cut off with a gasp as Nanami roughly pushed you against the wall. He put a knee in between your legs, and one of his hands began to crawl up your exposed thigh. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, shivering as you felt the pleasant tingle of his touch. He gave you such a heated look that it left you swallowing nervously.

“I don’t want to hear another man’s name out of your mouth tonight,” he growled in your ear.

You looked back at him, both half-amused and half-aroused. “I’m only yours, Kento.”

“Good.”

Nanami whisked you away to the bedroom as you laughed breathily in his arms.

---

Nanami surveyed the numerous body bags in the morgue of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

“Three Grade 2 sorcerers. One Semi-Grade 1 sorcerer. Five Auxiliary Managers. Two storage attendants,” Ijichi listed off the number of casualties.

Nanami clenched his fists. “This is the same curse that Itadori and I fought together, correct?”

“Yes,” the manager replied, pushing up his glasses. “Shoko confirmed that the bodies were all disfigured in the same manner.”

The sorcerer grit his teeth in frustration. He blamed himself. If he had been able to exorcise the curse back then, these innocent lives might have been spared. After all, it was his fault that Mahito had escaped. He hadn’t been quick enough.

“Gojo, can I have a private word with you?”

The white-haired sorcerer had been leaning against the wall the entire time, quiet for once.

“I’ll take my leave,” Ijichi announced, exiting the room.

Nanami broke the silence first.

“If anything happens to me, promise me you’ll take care of her.”

Gojo didn’t respond right away. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked in an unusually serious tone.

“Mahito is still around. My attacks are not effective against him. He seems to have a special interest in me, so there is a high probability we will run into each other again. And I may not be lucky enough to have Itadori by my side then.”

“No.”

“What?!” Nanami whipped around to face the sorcerer. The fury in his eyes was hidden by his sunglasses, but Gojo could sense the anger all the same.

“No, I won’t promise to take care of her.”

“Gojo, you—”

“Stop acting like you’re trying to die.” Nanami stiffened. “Take care of her yourself. You’re strong.”

A tense silence hung in the air.

Nanami let out a deep breath.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

---

The next day, Nanami had just finished a mission when the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event ended. He came back to campus to see all the students in baseball uniforms. Wasn’t the second day dedicated to individual battles?

“Oh, Nanami!” Gojo called out, jogging over to him. He had forgone his blindfold for a pair of sunglasses and wore a simple button-up shirt and pants instead of his normal uniform. “Too bad you missed the game! We won!”

“The game?”

Gojo nodded with a devious look on his face. “Yup! This year, the Goodwill Event winner was determined by a baseball game!” He laughed victoriously.

Nanami shook his head. Only Gojo could successfully pull off a stunt like this in front of both school principals.

“By the way, we’re going out for some drinks tonight. Even Utahime and Mei Mei said they would join. You should come. And bring your girlfriend too.”

“Absolutely not.” There was potentially a traitor among the group, and Gojo thought it was a good idea to bring you into the mix? There was no way he was going to let that happen.

“Too bad. I already invited her.”

“You what?! ” Nanami fumed.

“You mad or something?”

Nanami thought about trying to strangle the white-haired sorcerer when his phone chimed. It was a message from you.

You: Gojo invited me out with you guys tonight. Is that ok?

“Is that her?” Gojo asked, trying to peek at Nanami’s phone screen.

“None of your business.”

He began typing his response.

“I know you won’t say no to her,” Gojo hummed. The other sorcerer ignored him.

Nanami: Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together?

You: I have to stay a lil late at work :( someone called out sick so I’ll just meet you all there

Nanami: You sure? I don’t mind waiting for you.

You: Yup it’s fine! See you tonight!

Nanami locked his phone and put it away.

“So?” Gojo asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“She’s coming,” Nanami grumbled.

The white-haired sorcerer clapped his hands together excitedly like he hadn’t planned for this to happen from the start. “Great! I’m looking forward to tonight!”

Nanami glared at him in response.

“What? You still mad?”

Nanami tapped his fingers absentmindedly on the table. You still hadn’t arrived yet. Utahime was somehow already drunk, loudly laughing at something Shoko said. Gojo was bothering Ijichi who was sputtering nervously, and Mei Mei was silently sipping on a cocktail she forced Gojo to buy for her. Nanami bit back a sigh. He missed you.

“I heard from a little birdie that you have a girlfriend now, Nanami. And a non-sorcerer one at that,” Mei Mei commented with a sly smile.

Nanami looked at Gojo, knowing exactly who this “little birdie” was, but the white-haired sorcerer turned away with a whistle.

“A girlfriend?!” Utahime gasped. She grabbed Shoko’s shoulders and violently shook her. “Shoko, did you know about this?”

The doctor was completely unfazed. “Yeah. We’ve all met her before except you and Mei Mei.”

Utahime covered her face and made dramatic sobbing noises. “Out of all of us, it’s Nanami who’s dating first?!”

Nanami’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. What was that supposed to mean?

“Shoko!” Utahime whined. “Will you marry me if I’m still single at 40?”

“I’ll do it!” Gojo quipped.

The Kyoto sorcerer made a disgusted gagging noise. “Like hell I would ever agree to that!”

“I’ll do it for money. How much would you pay me?” Mei Mei asked.

“You guys are all terrible!” Utahime exclaimed. She latched onto Shoko. “Only Shoko is nice to me!”

“But I never said I would marry you,” the doctor pointed out calmly.

The entire table burst into laughter. Nanami quietly sipped on his beer.

“Sorry, I’m late!” Your bright voice finally caught the man’s attention. You waved at the group, heading over. Nanami got up to greet you but a certain white-haired man beat him to it.

Gojo called your name happily, wrapping you into an unexpected bear hug.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Nanami commanded, immediately dragging the sorcerer off of you and kicking him back into his seat.

You chuckled lightly before hugging Nanami too. Hesitating for a little bit, you decided to kiss the man on the cheek. You knew he didn’t like PDA, but you still wanted to greet him affectionately.

“I think you missed,” Gojo pointed out.

Flushing in embarrassment at Gojo's comment, you were about to pull away and take a seat, but Nanami suddenly leaned down and kissed you on the lips deeply. It was so unexpected that you couldn’t suppress the noise of surprise that left your throat. You could vaguely hear the cheering and wolf whistles from the table which only made you blush more. Nanami finally pulled away, leaving you breathless.

“Now that’s more like it,” Gojo commented with a slow clap.

Ijichi covered his face with his hands, unable to believe he witnessed Nanami in such a manner. Utahime’s jaw dropped open in complete shock. Shoko was busy rummaging through her purse for a cigarette. Mei Mei raised her eyebrows, impressed at Nanami’s boldness.

Gojo gestured to you. “Well, say hi to Nanami’s girlfriend, everyone!”

You shyly waved at them. “Hi,” you squeaked, still embarrassed.

Even though you had the day off tomorrow, you hadn’t planned on drinking a lot during the night. But Utahime challenged all the girls to a drink-off and you couldn’t resist participating to get to know the other women better. Mei Mei only agreed to partake once Gojo confirmed he would cover everyone’s tabs.

It turned out that both Shoko and Mei Mei had incredibly high tolerances. You and Utahime on the other hand, not so much.

You groaned, struggling to climb the steps up to Nanami’s apartment. After watching your pitiful attempt, the sorcerer lifted you in his arms and carried you the rest of the way.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you mumbled. You felt bad that Nanami had to take care of you, especially because you had not intended to get this drunk.

“Don’t apologize.” He carefully set you down on your feet as he opened his apartment door. Nanami helped you wash up and get changed before joining you in bed once he was done with his own nightly routine.

You were practically laying on top of Nanami while rubbing a hand down his firm chest. When your hand started to wander lower, he gently took it and brought it up to his face to kiss it. “We should go to sleep.”

You pouted a little but mumbled in agreement, rolling off the man and nestling into his side instead. “Good night, Kento. Love you.”

Nanami stiffened, suddenly wide awake after hearing your words. He was filled with such an indescribable emotion that it left him completely speechless. Nanami was worried you would be upset that he hadn’t responded right away, but he was instead greeted by the familiar sound of your slow, deep breaths. You were asleep.

He let out a sigh. Nanami wondered if you would remember your confession in the morning, but he doubted it. Your memory was always spotty when you got this drunk.

Nanami kissed your head, stroking your hair gently.

“I love you too.”

---

“Is something wrong?”

Nanami didn’t even look up from the newspaper he was reading to address the white-haired sorcerer. “Everything is fine. Why are you asking?”

Gojo hummed, tapping a finger on his chin in thought. His sharp eyes took in his friend’s appearance. “You seem a bit tense. You didn’t have a fight with the girlfriend, did you?”

“Nothing of that sort happened. And even if it did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“So you did have a fight!” Gojo exclaimed.

Nanami turned the page. “No, we did not. And just to stop your incessant bothering, I will tell you that she has a very important exam today, so I have not seen her in several days to allow her to focus on studying.”

“Ahh, I see!” It made perfect sense to Gojo now. “You look so tense because you’re sexually frustrated!”

Nanami crumbled the edges of the newspaper in his hands. “I refuse to talk about such things with you.”

“Oh, but you’re not denying it,” Gojo pointed you. “Nanami, there is absolutely no shame in talking about our sex lives. We should be more open about sex to destigmatize it. For example, last week I—”

“I’m leaving,” Nanami suddenly announced. He folded up his newspaper and exited the lounge. He’d rather fight four Grade One curses single-handedly than hear about that man’s sex life.

---

Nanami couldn’t keep his hands off of you. As soon as you walked through his apartment door, cheering that you were finally done with your exam, he immediately pulled you into his arms and kissed you wantonly.

Your absence in the past few days was so striking. He had trouble sleeping and didn’t even feel like cooking without your familiar presence around him. It was so good to have you back again.

You giggled at his eagerness, looking up at him with a knowing smile. “Did you miss me?”

Nanami was already ushering you towards his bedroom.

“Let me show you just how much I missed you.”

The next morning, you stumbled out of Nanami’s bedroom with a loud yawn. You had no class or work for the day, so you were looking forward to lounging around Nanami’s apartment as a reward for suffering through your exam yesterday.

You perked up when you smelled something good in the air. Popping your head in the kitchen, you saw Nanami flipping pancakes.

“Good morning!” You eyed the pancakes with a hungry look.

“Good morning. Breakfast will be ready in a few,” Nanami replied, adding more batter into the pan.

“Okay!” You left to quickly get dressed for the day.

By the time you returned, Nanami was setting down a plate on the table piled high with fluffy blueberry pancakes.

“Thank you for breakfast!” you said with a wide grin, snatching two pancakes and putting them on your own plate.

After eating, Nanami looked at this watch with a small frown. “I have to go.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll clean everything up.” You headed over to the door where Nanami was slipping into his shoes and putting on his blazer. Before he opened the door, you stepped in to fix his tie that was just slightly askew.

“I’ll see you tonight, handsome?”

“Of course.”

For you, Nanami would do everything in his power to make sure he finished work on time and returned home as soon as possible. He used to look forward to the end of the workday because he hated working. But now he looked forward to the end of the workday because he got to see you.

As a jujutsu sorcerer, Nanami knew he couldn’t take anything for granted. Any amount of time spent with you was absolutely precious to him. So he wanted to make sure to maximize that amount of time as much as possible.

Nanami leaned down to kiss you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You blinked.

Huh?

Did he say…?

Wait, did you say....?

Your eyes widened in realization as you covered your mouth in shock.

Nanami said he loved you.

And you immediately said you loved him back.

The words had slipped right out of your mouth without you even realizing it.

“Enjoy your day off,” Nanami said nonchalantly before exiting the apartment. The door gently closed shut behind him.

When Nanami arrived at work, a certain white-haired sorcerer knew something was different about his friend.

“What happened with her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gojo grabbed his phone and dialed a number quickly. “You owe me money, Mei Mei! I won the bet! I told you they would confess their love to each other before the end of the month.”

Nanami clenched his jaw.

Bet?

The sorcerer menacingly stood over Gojo, sword withdrawn and cursed energy swirling around him angrily. “What bet?”

Gojo removed the phone from his ear. Mei Mei could be heard angrily yelling from the device, clearly upset about losing a large sum of money. “Now, now, Nanami. You’re only this angry at me because I’m correct, right? You two finally confessed to each other?”

Nanami took his tie off and wrapped it around his hand.

The white-haired sorcerer threw his head back with a howl of laughter. “I’ll take that as a yes! But before you try to kill me, just know that a) it’s impossible and b) I only agreed to this bet to prove Mei Mei wrong. She didn’t think you had it in you to confess so soon! But I always had faith in you because I’m such a good friend!”

Nanami took a menacing step forward towards Gojo, but the sound of his phone chiming stopped his advance. Gojo took that as a sign to escape with his loud laughter still echoing in the hallways.

With a sigh, Nanami unlocked his phone to read the text from you.

You: Wanted to say I love you ♡

You: Just in case you didn’t hear earlier

You: But I’m pretty sure you did...

You: I just want to be sure

You: Anyways I’ll see you later :)

You: Miss you already

You: I'll try not to destroy your apartment

You: Ok sorry I'll stop bothering you now

He couldn’t wait to come home to you tonight.

#nanami x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami smut #kento nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #mine #n/sfw

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mqnasluvr · 3 years

Text

skinship headcanons | genshin impact

pairings; jean x gn!reader, amber x gn!reader, albedo x gn!reader

mentioned; kaeya, lisa, huffman, sucrose

warnings; suggestive themes ( jean ), all lowercase, not proofread

word count; 1.7k but half of it is albedo

jean

jean is not the touchiest person out there, but she does enjoy holding you. not too big on pda either; the most you’ll get out of her in public is maybe a quick smooch on the cheek and hand holding🛐 other than that, shes quite reserved.

her hugs are very comforting, but the first couple of times it was awkward on her part. she was used to giving barbara and klee hugs, but this was different. she wasn’t sure where to put her arms, and if anything she got more frustrated the more she hesitated.

once she grows accustomed to it, she’ll be fine. she enjoys the warmth and innocence of hugs, especially if you’re taller than her.

like i said, in public she isnt very touchy. while running errands she does keep you close though, and enjoys holding your hand more and anything.

behind closed doors shes a little bit bolder, but still shy overall. she’s not sure if she’s moving too fast for you so she waits until you initiate any type of physical contact, then takes it from there herself. it took her a long time before she managed to get the courage to kiss you tbh

one time when you two were in her office, amber walked in on you “distracting” jean from her work.

“y/n, i have to get back to work, please,” jean adverted her eyes from your gaze, embarrassed. she kept looking at the door, mentally asking herself if the door was locked or not and getting more nervous as the seconds passed.

you sat straddled on the young womans lap, her hands loosely placed on your hips. holding her face in your hands, you guided her face back to yours. “you work for way too long,” you frowned. “and i’m bored. there’s nothing to do in here.”

“the library is just across the hall—“

“if i read another book my brain will implode.” jean sighed and shook her head.

“please indulge in me just this once? please jean?” she stared at you blankly, her resolve quickly deteriorating. a couple of kisses couldn’t hurt, could it? she looked up at the clock in the corner of the room, then back at you.

sighing for the umpteenth time that day, she nodded. “just for a little while-“

before she could finish speaking, you pressed your lips to hers hurriedly, not wanting to waste any time. jean barely ever separated herself from her work, and refused to accept help from anyone else. you almost never had time alone with the acting grand master— you weren’t going to miss your chance now.

the kiss was not heated whatsoever, just very.. clumsy. and needy. on your part, at least. jean tried her best to slow you down, gripping your hips as her face heated up.

“jean, lisa needs you for somethi- oh,” amber nearly dropped the papers in her hands, immediately covering her eyes with it instead. you whipped your head around and stared at the girl wide-eyed before she spoke up again. “d-did i come at a bad time? i am so sorry, i’ll um. i’ll go now.”

jean couldnt look her in the eyes for WEEKS

it was painful

but overall, she likes physical affection, shes just nervous :,)

amber

amber LOVES touching you!! she’s 100% okay with pda. she isnt as forward as maybe kaeya or lisa, but she’s still rather bold. sometimes she forgets youre in public too, which ends up drawing a lot of attention to the both of you.

when you two go out on dates she is always touching you. hand in hand, arm around waist, whatever. theres always some type of physical contact, no matter what.

it’s so PAINFULLY obvious that you two are dating but for some reason she didn’t think that anyone knew ?? one time huffman saw yall kissing in an alleyway u really aren’t slick🤨

she loves cheek and forehead kisses, but likes receiving them more than giving really. shes a hyper one, and these kisses fluster her enough to make her quiet down. ( it’s so cute )

she often picks you up to hug you, spinning you both around in circles in an almost bone crushing hug. other than those times her hugs are really soft, but the energy is still there. ^^

have i mentioned that she is affectionate?? because she really is. she does respect your boundaries though, but if you feel uncomfortable you’re going to have to speak up on it because she won’t notice.

in private her clinginess is amplified by 10.

“i’m trying to cook, amber,” you mumbled, struggling to stir the paste sauce in the pot. all you were trying to do was make dinner for the two of you, but around 5 minutes ago she came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your arms and torso. you could feel her bury her face further into your back.

“mhm, and it smells really good too,” she hummed. you groaned, and she just giggled.

“i’ll be done in like, 20 minutes, amber. you can hug barron bunny in the meantime,” you tried to pry her arms off of you but she started whining.

“that’s too long.”

“no, it isnt,” you turned around with a spoonful of pasta sauce, motioning for her to open her mouth. she slurped the sauce and gave you a thumbs up.

“see? its good, right? well it wont get much better if you keep clinging to me so much,” she stayed quiet, but at least loosened her arms around you so that it was easier to move. you lightly patted her hand. “thank you.”

“whateverrr,” she drawled, and you couldnt help but laugh.

the pasta was in fact very good

in the end, shes the exact opposite of jean, and youll need to slow her down a lot :,)

albedo

as far as physical contact goes, it’s literally the last thing you will ever find on his mind. he’s too caught up with other things to think about physical affection

he does love you yes, but he doesnt show it through physical means. he does more gift giving, like when he sees a pretty flower that reminds him of you while going out to find starsilver shards.

if you want a hug or anything out of him you’re going to have to initiate it first— it’s foreign territory, and it’s not something he’s particularly interested in, so he doesnt feel the need to indulge in it

however the first time you two cuddle you can tell that he’s hooked. and he does a terrible job at hiding it.

now, he insists that you sit in his lap while he is taking notes because it “helps him focus better” and because “he’s so lonely”

we all know that aint true lmfao

he also really likes it when you play with his hair. please play with his hair, especially when you want him to get away from his studies. physical contact is completely foreign to him so something as simple as a scalp massage will make him melt 🛐

whenever he refuses to get away from his work, sucrose always asks you to step in because he wont listen to her

“y/n,” sucrose quietly approached you as you conversed with kaeya. you turned to her and nodded, albiet a bit concerned. sucrose never really needed you for anything, what did she need now that she couldn’t do herself?

kaeya took this as his sign to leave, but not before giving you a quick pat on the head. “yes, sucrose?” you said. “did something happen?”

she nodded meekly, watching kaeya walk off. a little bubble of guilt formed in her stomach from interrupting. “ah, i need your help with something. you see, mr albedo has been doing research non-stop on a new thing that has caught his eye since yesterday afternoon. i’ve tried to get him to put his research on pause, but,” she adjusted her glasses. “he doesn’t listen to me. i was hoping if you could maybe convince him to take care of himself?”

you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. he was doing it again. but you couldnt really blame him, he was terrible at keeping his hyperfixations under control. “i’ll take care of him, sucrose. don’t worry.”

she visibly relaxed at your words. sucrose flashed you a smile of gratitude, then waved and walked off to finish her errands in mondstadt.

—

it didn’t take him very long to notice your presence behind him. you were practically glaring at him, but there was no true anger behind it. wordlessly, albedo turned around in his chair and looked up at you.

you crossed your arms. “albedo,” you started, and it took everything in him not to sigh at the inevitable lecture.

“sucrose sent you, did she not?” he propped his arm up on the armrest of his chair, leaning his face into his hand as he gazed at you nonchalantly.

“of course she did. why aren’t you taking breaks?” he turned his chair back around, but you sat on the desk he was working at. you placed your hand on top of his papers and he shot a glare at you. it didnt phase you in the slightest.

“i have work to do. it’s much easier to do it all at once than stop inbetween.”

“have you at least been taking care of your basic needs? when was the last time you ate, or drank water?”

your eyes softened when he looked away.

hopping off of the desk, you grabbed his hand and pulled him away from his work ( gently, of course ). he barely protested.

you started muttering about how he needs to take better care of himself while pouring him a cup of water and making him a simple sandwich. he was a bit disappointed in himself for making you worry, and ate the food you gave him guiltily.

you pinched his cheek as he ate, giving it a light tug. he slapped your hand away playfully and a bit of the guilt he felt lifted when he heard your laugh. “i’m sorry you have to go through this for me.”

you shook your head. “you just need to learn how to stop yourself. you’re smart albedo, i’m sure you’ll figure it out in no time.”

he finished eating his food and, uncharacteristically, pulled you in for a hug. albedo rested his forehead against your shoulder, relaxing even further when you weaved your fingers through his hair.

“...i’m sorry, y/n.”

“stop apologizing.”

“okay. sorry. oh-”

you laughed.

#genshin impact #jean x reader #jean x reader genshin impact #jean x reader genshin #amber x reader #amber x reader genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #albedo x reader #albedo x reader genshin #albedo x reader genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #is it obvious that i have a soft spot for albedo

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bonesofapoet · 3 years

Text

Melted Stars, Melted Sea

[arthur curry x you]

author’s note: me, deep in chaos territory atm: hey remember that aquaman thing you wrote over two years ago when you watched the movie ten times in three days? yeah you should post that since you havent posted anything in a While + you watched the snyder cut two times in 24 hours

words: 1370

He found you on the dock, eyes spellbound by the infinite celestial sky above you.

It was common, that he found you like this. Back pressed against sturdy wooden planks, hands tucked behind your head or mimicking the rise and fall of your abdomen. Air, cool from the ocean would caress your face, your hands, your skin - it kept you grounded just enough, so you wouldn’t forget you were still on planet Earth. Your eyes would remain glued to the deep lavender, cobalt blue, and midnight black. They would search the crystalline sprinkles above for familiar shapes, and then shapes you wished to know. You hunted for far off moons or tails of the galaxy and hidden planets you longed to see with your own bright eyes. You imagined what, or who, could be residing in the eerily empty spaces between the glitter in the sky.

Arthur Curry loved that about you.

It was ironic, he thought - his own head was usually down underwater, lost in the darkness below. Yours was tilted up and up and up to see where no human had gone before.

In the middle of your impromptu star-gazing session, soft footfalls on the dock began to bring your mind back down to your own rock in the cosmos. A nudge to your calf brought wandering eyes back down to land.

“Want to go for a drive, Stephen Hawking?”

You smiled at the sky; a grin that could put ethereal moonlight to shame.

“Always,” barely made it past your lips before you were hauled to your feet and into the arms of the Aquaman himself. He pulled you close for a moment, before he took your hand and guided you to the truck idling at the edge of the docks. You tilted your head back one last time; trusted Arthur to catch you if you were about to bite the dust.

You tripped over a rock.

He laughed. You shoved him.

This is what peace feels like.

It was the lone thought that thrummed through your entire being.

Brisk night air stained with the brine of the sea ripped through the open windows - a welcome comfort, just like the hand the meta-human had rested on your thigh with his other on the wheel.

“This never gets old,” your voice was quiet, but your eyes were alert. Clear. Drinking in the New England coastline, the rise and fall of the Atlantic Ocean in the distance. The moonlight illuminated cresting waves and seafoam that kissed the shore. Cliffs from far up the road looked deadly and beautiful in the deep hours of the night, and you never tired of driving these winding paths. The hills in front of you, the depth-less, unforgiving sea to your right, and the man you loved keeping you close while he drove on your left.

“Nothing is, with you.”

You barely heard him over the howl of the wind in your ears, or the explosion of the waves rushing each other over and over and over. A small smile blossomed on your lips.

“We’re being so soft I want to punch us in the face.”

Arthur’s laughter roared louder than any crack of thunder you had ever heard.

The king of Atlantis was inclined to agree with you.

Your fingers mindlessly traced exposed tattoos of the arm in your lap the rest of the drive, more preoccupied with the movement than the silence that filled the air until you returned to the lighthouse. The quiet was nice. It was soothing. It was rare, spending time with Arthur like this; even more so now that he had a whole other world to look after. A whole other kingdom to live in and govern and protect.

You accepted his decision long ago, reassured him you would be fine, because you would, and you were. He had your unyielding support both while he was away, and while he was with you.

It made you love him more, even, for refusing to pull the age old cowardice bullshit: “I can’t give you the attention you deserve anymore, so I’m breaking up with you, sorry.”

No - that was far from Arthur Curry’s style.

There was no walking on razor sharp eggshells around the subject, no hiding behind false truths and white lies about your truest thoughts and feelings, no internalizing or projecting your worst fears and horrifying nightmares that suddenly became real because he was leaving and he was fulfilling his destiny and you were staying here, on the surface, without him.

And yet - neither of you questioned this was how it had to be. How you wanted it to be, even just a little. He wanted to be there for his people, and you wanted him to stop running from his responsibilities, to embrace who he truly was. So you wanted this, for him, even though you missed him more than the sun missed the moon and the constellations missed their previous lives on the Earth. You knew he felt the very same way.

The truck eventually crept to a stop. The full moon shone snow-white rays through the windshield, making your bodies glow in the radiant light. It was enough to convince Arthur that maybe angels were real, and he had been with one all along.

It was enough to convince you that instead of Poseidon incarnate, Arthur could rival that of Apollon, God of Light.

“It’s almost time,” he said into the quiet, breaking the hushed spell you both had fallen under. His eyes were trained on the monumental expanse of the ocean now. Serene urgency laced with his voice, but he hadn’t moved to untangle himself from you, hadn’t moved except to press a kiss into your lips slow and grounding.

You moved instead, when you broke apart.

“Then why don’t we get out of this truck so you can kiss me goodbye properly?” you teased. The process of leaving had begun once more.

He stood by your side under the starlight, who broke the darkness with it’s poetry.

Arthur took your face in his hands and kissed you so fiercely you felt like the world was about to burn into nothing. It was a kiss that could end wars and bring hurricanes crashing down to land. It was a kiss that stole your breath, stopped your heart and rose the dead from their graves, the kind of kiss that restarted the cycle of life after death. It was a kiss that spoke so many words, so many phrases and spoke of feelings that were deep enough no words in any language existed for them yet. It was a kiss that made the mere mention of happiness seem like a figment of your imagination, because there was no way happiness could compare to what you were feeling in that one moment.

You felt it in your bones, felt it melt your bones.

All with the sea as your witness.

You pulled away breathless, not remembering what oxygen felt like or how you were supposed to breathe. The only anchor to this world was the gentle spray of the ocean on your skin, the light embrace of a salt breeze that felt like it was breathing for you, instead of on you. The cool tendrils of darkness and contentment kissed your spine, and you shivered just for a second.

This was peace, you realized.

This was peace and it was always only temporary, but in those last moments before Arthur told you he loved you more than Atlantis and the Surface and more than the sea combined –

Before you watched the dark waters swallow him whole again, you acted on those feelings. You followed your gut and threw yourself into the icy waters before he ever had the chance.

(Metaphorically, of course.)

“Marry me,” it flew past your lips so effortlessly, so fast - your hands were still lost in Arthur’s hair and neither of you had the chance to catch your breath.

A beat of silence.

And another.

It sunk in for both of you at the same time, what you just asked.

The shit-eating grin that moved mountains in your stomach graced his lips in a heartbeat.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#aquaman imagine #arthur curry x reader #justice league imagine #kas writes

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Text

Agitation (or disturbance of the mind)

Here is my piece for the Harringrove Big Bang!! I’m so so proud of how this piece turned out and I’m so excited to share it! @harringrovebigbang

Read on Ao3 (highly recommended. It’s over 16k).

Special thanks to my beta readers @thinger-strang @crispysteve without whom this story would’ve been scrapped in many fits of emotions.

Art for this story to be linked soon by @thedogsled

Check out this amazing moodboard by @memes-saved-me !!

Enjoy!

Steve Harrington is a liar.

He always has been.

Nearly everything about him is a perfectly crafted facade.

From the story of his family’s move to Hawkins when he was eight, to the smile that slides easily onto his face when he tells Robin I’m fine.

Steve is a liar.

But it's all out of necessity. All for the greater of some good he isn’t all that clear on anymore.

It was always about protection.

Protecting his friends and everyone in Hawkins from the truth about Hawkins National Laboratory.

Then it was about protecting himself from his powers.

From the way his words had a knack of worming their way into someone’s brain. Of setting up shop inside and clanging around until they could do nothing but bow to his suggestion.

Just because he could get his way with the right inflection and the telltale shiver down his spine, didn’t mean that that was okay.

It was drilled into him the first night he arrived in Hawkins.

After his file was stamped with a large red mark that read defective, he was given to one of the scientists and her husband.

The Harringtons.

A normal new family from Eastern Oklahoma.

That’s what they told everyone.

That’s what they made sure Steve parroted to everyone in his brand new school.

His new father took a cigar to the tattoo on his wrist, welting the flesh with an ugly burn. He ignored Steve’s screams and tears.

You have to fit in here, Steven, he had said, the cigar smoldering between his fingers, Steve clutching his wrist, eyes shining with tears. You have to fit in and be normal.

So Steve lied.

He smiled and told everyone he came from a normal family from normal Oklahoma. He said that he lived in a normal house, and read normal books, and played normal sports.

And he tried, and failed, to convince himself the lab was a dream.

“We should do something after this.”

Steve was careful to keep his voice casual. He didn’t want to let Robin in on how much he was dreading returning to his empty house tonight.

Robin didn’t acknowledge him. She was sorting the returned movies, placing them in piles of genre so they could easily be returned to their proper section.

Steve quietly lifted his leg, and lightly kicked her hip.

She glared at him.

“Quit ignorin’ me. Just say yes, or no.” It’s not like if she said no it would crush him or anything. No. It’s fine.

“I just have a bunch of homework that’s all, like, due tomorrow,” she said it slowly, as though telling him a beloved relative had died.

Was it that obvious how lonely he is?

“Don’t worry about it, Buck.” Robin took school real serious. She had perfect grades every year and had already applied to sixteen colleges and universities, including four Ivy League options.

So Steve didn’t blame her for not skulking around with him.

With college-less, nowhere bound Steve.

“I’m really sorry,” she began, getting that sad look in her eye like that night in the mall bathroom when Steve spilled his drugged-out guts. Literally, and metaphorically.

“Nah, I was just lookin’ for something to do. It’s okay, Robin. Really.”

And it was.

Almost.

It’s just that, Steve’s not got a lot going for him right now.

He’s got a big empty house, and a brain that likes to give him excessive nightmares, and one age-appropriate friend in the whole place.

But he doesn’t wanna talk about all that shit.

And Robin looked like there was something on the tip of her tongue. Something her teeth were barely holding back.

So Steve just scooped up the stack of neatly ordered Action films, and made his way over to the far shelf, taking himself out of the situation before it would get to a place that would only make him lie more and more.

Robin means well. He knows she does.

It just feels like a lot of her well-meaning chats end up with Steve lying through his fucking teeth and Robin nearly in tears of frustration at his lack of openness with her.

She feels like being tortured and drugged together gives them a close kind of kinship very few share.

Steve feels like he’s got just too much fucked-up baggage to dump on her.

Not when they’re trying to put the Upside Down behind them.

Not that Steve could ever put it behind him.

He felt something build in his gut. Something hot and heavy. Something that always meant his powers were scraping at the walls of the neat little cave he had shut them in. Something that meant his skin would burn until he unleashed some of his pent-up energy.

He took a deep breath, blowing out the air slowly through his nose.

He had rules to his power. Rules he had given himself, mostly. Things he’d never use his powers for.

He tried to avoid his powers at all costs, but he had seen what could happen if he tried to tamp them down. It was less dangerous to open the lid of the box just a tiny bit.

Especially if he did it right.

He made his way back over to Robin, finding that spot in his brain that made a shudder zip down his spine. The spot that was made of cold and electric heat.

It was always too simple when he let the power take over.

Locate her feeling. Let him consume him.

And then just, twist it as much as he wants.

“Robin,” he spoke slowly, honing his suggestion. “You don’t have to feel bad about not spending time with me tonight.”

He felt her sadness and guilt about the evening recede about as fast as the tide.

She really shouldn’t feel bad about ditching him, especially not when her education is the main priority.

He matched her lazy grin, wiping his nose discreetly, only a small drop of blood smeared against his hand.

The rest of the shift passed without incident, and the roaring feeling in Steve’s gut had been sated enough for the time being.

So he pushed it back out of his mind, and returned to his empty house.

He was saving up to get his own place. He really was. But it was easier this way. He didn’t pay any bills, had lots of space to himself, and a pool in the backyard (that he never used).

And it’s hard for him to explain, but there’s something tugging him back into this house all the time.

He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s the only home he ever knew after the pain and fear that was his childhood in the lab, or if it’s something else that makes him feel tethered to the too-big house.

Sometimes he thought there was a sense of safety in the old place.

With parents that spent excessive amounts of time doing research for things he didn’t understand but was sure were important, it was largely an emotion-free place.

Which was good for Steve.

High emotion situations made his power boil up and spill over the edge like a pot of water on the stove.

A place like his empty house, he could keep everything in check. Not get his feelings tangled with those around him. Not catch thoughts that were just beginning to be molded into something brand new.

He clambered into bed, punching his pillows around in a way that was decidedly not petulant.

There was a steady silence in the old house. A silence that was as depressing as it was easy on his brain.

And there wasn’t silence.

Creaks.

Creaks issuing from downstairs. From the floorboards in the hallway.

Footsteps.

Steve was out of bed in a second, bat held aloft in as close to ready position as he could maintain while bolting down the stairs in his socks and faded green gym shorts.

He knew how to navigate the house without a sound. Practice of tip-toeing around a volatile not-father kinda ended up giving him something useful.

The creaks were still progressing, moving up the hallway from the back of the house, where his parents’ empty bedroom sat still.

The person was getting closer, lumbering slowly as if they were trying to be quiet themselves.

Steve adjusted his grip on the bat, taking proper batting stance, ready for the intruder to round the corner into his section of the hall.

First sign of a person, and Steve would swing.

No questions asked.

The floorboard before the bend in the hall gave a loud sound, and he could’ve sworn he heard someone curse under their breath.

He closed his eyes, and swung.

His bat sailed through the air, and connected with, not an intruder.

And then he was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear. A completely feral state of fight or flight made him nearly bare his teeth in an animalistic growl. He felt fear, and dread, and pure stubborn, stupid resolve.

It nearly blinded him, the emotions were so thick and clear.

And then there whooshed out of him, as though being sucked up by a feelings vacuum, leaving him empty and confused.

His top lip was covered in blood.

He had a lot of fucking questions as he stared at the bat, hanging by it’s long nails in the hallway wall, the ominous creaking moving past him towards the stairs.

The footsteps that were caused by no one.

It’s official.

Steve’s lost it.

He’s fucking crazy.

He’s hearing footsteps and voices swearing quietly, and he’s going mad and completely batshit and should be tucked away in a padded room for the rest of his life.

He didn’t even bother to wrench the bat out of the wall as he stumbled after the imagined footsteps.

He clearly needed to get a good night’s sleep, and to forget that anything happened at all tonight.

Billy hates Harrington’s house.

He doesn’t, really. It’s given him excellent shelter while he pulled himself together, and it’s out of town enough to serve as a good base for the little gang of Lost Boys he had accumulated.

It’s just that, the old house likes to make a lot of noise.

It keeps him on edge.

Every squealing door hinge, and every creaky floorboard sets his teeth on edge and makes him whip around in a frenzy, expecting to see a demogorgon snarling at him from the sitting room.

He nearly had a heart attack when he heard the thuds coming from upstairs.

He generally liked to avoid the top floor of the house.

Harrington’s bedroom was up there, and it wigged him out something fierce. He’d only been in the dilapidated version of it one time, his first night in the house he had claimed for safety.

He didn’t intend to stay the night in there, he had just stumbled upon it, and curled up in the bed.

He remembers not sleeping the entire night. He was so scared after coming to in the library, something slimy and disgusting slipping its way out of his throat.

The whole place had been screaming, as though the Upside Down itself was alive. Alive and being horrifically murdered.

He didn’t know what it was called then, all he knew was that Harrington’s house was the first one he came across, and that Harrington’s room was depressingly empty and impersonal.

But, there was a thudding coming from that general area, and if some kinda shitty creature was making its way into the house, he needed to hedge it off before it did any damage.

He took hold of his ax, never far from his side these days, and slipped out of his cot.

The floorboards in the hallway were creaky, and he tried to walk slowly, muffling his footsteps as much as he could in his heavy boots, not wanting to warn the monster he was coming for it.

He cataloged the crew in his head: Hopper had his troop of three in the basement where they were resting up for the supply run tomorrow. Timothy was on nightwatch with his team of five. Billy was in a pack with four others; Heather Holloway, her mother, Janet, and the two boys they found skulking around the library the same night everyone seemed to wake up. One of the boys was called Andrew. The other hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time they’d been trapped.

Billy liked to call him by different names each time he referred to the kid. Trying to get him to laugh. He couldn’t’ve been more than seven years old, and he was trapped in this fucking hellscape with the rest of them.

Andrew was thirteen. Billy didn’t like to look at him much. Andrew reminded him of Max. Which made Billy feel empty and achy in a way he didn’t think was very productive for survival.

But Andrew took a shine to Janet Holloway. Probably missing his mother and needing more comfort than his thirteen-year-old self was willing to admit.

The Holloway women were a hell of a lot feistier than Bill originally gave them credit for, saving his ass in a scrap just as often as he had been there for theirs. Heather and Janet were equal parts caring and soft, with the right amounts of clever and bossy to take point on their team.

Billy let himself be the muscle.

He let himself be the watchdog and attack dog. He took nightwatches and never let his weapons out of his grasp.

Everyone had a role.

And that was perfectly okay.

They had to keep together in this world. They wouldn’t survive it otherwise.

They’d all lost enough people to understand that.

One of the boards gave a hefty creak under his left foot, and he breathed a quiet fuck through his bandana, listening for more of the thudding.

It had stopped about forty seconds before, Billy had counted, and he couldn’t hear any other sounds of something forcing its way inside. Plus, the nightwatch hadn’t sounded any alarms.

He took another step, ax held ready and aloft in case he came face to ugly face with one of the horrible creatures that prowled the night.

He rounded the corner, and there was a loud bang on the wall next to his head.

He jumped as paint chipped off the wall and flew all over him.

He was hit with a feeling of intense fear, and adrenaline rush that caused all the blood in his ears to rush. He looked wildly around, seeing, nothing.

Billy bared his teeth, ready to go down fucking swinging.

As long as he took the fucker down with him, that’s all that matters.

Save the rest.

And he stood, ready to fight, ready to die.

And there was nothing.

Nothing in the hallway. He was all alone.

None of this shit made any sense. He hadn’t dreamed the wall cracked beside his head, and looking back, there were holes in the wall, and a big dent that had splinted the white paint and drywall beneath it.

There was some fucked up shit going on, and Billy didn’t like it one bit.

He continued down the hall, creeping to the stairs to check the original source of the noises that had woken him up.

Harrington’s room was pretty much just as he remembered it from that first night in the house.

It was sparse and sad-looking. The covers on the bed were all jostled and thrown around, the horrible spindle-like vines covering nearly every surface in the room.

They had cleared the tendrils in other rooms, cutting them and burning them back, ensuring the vines didn’t start creeping over them when they weren’t looking.

Billy didn’t fancy being covered and tethered by the slimy black vines. He was pretty much over all this Upside Down shit.

He took a cursory look around Harrington’s room, not noticing any signs of forced entry from a creature, really nothing was out of place.

The meager school trophies on the bookshelf next to the closet looked rotted and tarnished, just like everything else in this absolute hell called a parallel universe. There were few pictures in this room, much like the whole house. It had taken Billy a long time to notice the lack of inhabitancy the house had. The way it seemed to feel so cold and empty, it would be that way in the real world too.

His eyes swept over the dilapidated dresser, cataloging the room quickly for anything that should worry him.

Billy deemed the whole scene safe, and made sure to close the door tightly as he retreated back downstairs.

Steve’s going fucking crazy.

He was still in bed, his alarm clock ringing angrily at him as it had for the past six minutes.

He hadn’t slept at all last night.

Something just felt. Off.

The feelings in his chest were scrambled, and they felt foreign to him. Like he had taken in somebody else’s emotions.

But proximity was the key to his power, and he was alone. Alone alone.

Like, the closest person was Mrs. Gardfeld in the next house, all the way across their combined, much too big, yards.

It felt like. It felt like someone was in the house with him. Someone was in the house with him, and they were scared, and stubborn, and tired, and a flurry of things that made Steve feel ill.

And he couldn’t push them out.

He couldn’t find the chasm between this slew of someone else’s shit, and his own messy cocktail of feelings.

The other feelings were like those awful vines in the tunnel. Snaking around under his feet, wiggling up his ankles and keeping him stuck in the mud. Wrapping around his own emotions and squeezing until they just merged into one.

He’s lost the metaphor.

Doesn’t matter.

His feelings are fucked and his brain is fucked and his day is fucked.

And he has to work a double at Family Fuckin’ Video.

He found his way out of bed. Not going very far, just standing next to his warm nest of blankets, debating getting back in and hiding for the rest of his life.

He was going to be late for work.

He didn’t really give a fuck.

Keith would be all smug and probably make some remarks about Steve not even being worth the less-than-minimum wage he was making.

He took a shower, not so much cleaning himself as letting the lukewarm water cascade down on him and hope it got rid of the stench of sweat and anxiety and bad sleep that was clinging angrily to his skin.

His brain was empty.

Empty save for the pounding otherness that were these horrible fucking feelings.

Robin didn’t even have the heart to call him out for being nearly half an hour late.

“You look like shit.”

No, she just called him out for looking like shit.

“Y’know, it’s really wonderful to have such a caring and thoughtful friend in these trying times.”

She rolled her eyes. He always told her one day she was gonna get stuck like that. With her eyes permanently fixed towards the ceiling in exasperation.

“Drop the attitude, Steve Harrington. Just because you didn’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to suffer.”

Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was joking. Steve just clenched his jaw and stared at her blankly. Either she would get mad at him, or sigh and roll her eyes.

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

Bingo.

She wasn’t actually mad at him.

“You okay?”

“Jus’, some weirdness. Bad vibes.”

He couldn’t give her more than that. Couldn’t say I can feel someone else in my house and I don’t know if someone is hiding in my house or if I’m going crazy, oh and by the way, I was one of those freaky lab kids and I can manipulate and feel people’s thoughts and emotions, by the way.

That’s too much for a slow shift on a Saturday morning.

That’s too much for really any time of any day.

No, Steve fully plans to take all that shit to the grave. Like a real man, his dad would say.

“Well, if you could take your bad vibes back to rewind duty, that would leave all the good vibes up here to me.” She shooed him off with her hand, landing a quick slap square on his left asscheck when he groaned and dragged his feet dramatically on his way to the back room.

Not that Steve would ever actually complain about rewind duty. Steve preferred doing it to anything else in the place. Especially re-shelving. That was just asking for someone to come ask him for a movie recommendation. Steve only watched the same five campy old westerns and when he recommends any of those, people seem to wanna get out of his face right quick.

No, rewinding was dull and monotonous and solitary, all the shit that Steve really needed on a day like today.

There was a strict routine and he didn’t have to think or do anything.

Just sit. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. Put in re-shelve bucket. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. And again and again and again until all the tapes were ready to go.

Hawkins tended to take out a lot of movies on the weekend. Not much else to do when you aren’t sixteen and ready to hit up any party you could possibly weasel your way into.

So, Steve had about fifty some odd tapes to rewind from the past few days and he was feeling benignly excited about sitting in the small room for most of his shift.

It was easy to pass the shift like that.

Sitting with the quiet whirring of the tapes being tracked back to the beginning. Not having to deal with anyone’s thoughts except his own tedious ones about when he should take his lunch break and reminding himself to check the TV Guide for anything good tonight.

It was an odd emptiness that took hold of him throughout the day. And he almost felt, well.

Lonely.

He almost felt lonely.

Which is fucking bonkers because that horrible feeling of someone else had well and truly fucked him over last night, and well into this morning, but he kind. Missed. The other presence.

He’s officially crazy.

Someone find this boy a padded fucking cell because Steve Harrington has officially gone all kinds of batshit bananas wacky.

He’s feeling lonely because the horrible not his feelings of fear and anger and betrayal and desperation aren’t clogging up his little brain sink. Even when they were, the brain sink was threatening to burst and leak all over his brain kitchen.

Or something to that effect.

He let his eyes unfocus, watching Jaws at double speed and backward for the fourth time that day.

There was something about the foreign feelings he just couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

Something twinging in the back of his brain, screaming at him to open his eyes and pay attention.

But that’s never been Steve’s strong suit.

“Stupid. Fucking. Vines .”

Hopper muttered to himself a lot.

It was usually too muffled underneath his own bandana face covering and the hefty beard he had been sporting to discern whatever he was thinking, but it’s not like hating the awful black tendrils of gross plant/monster/everything-that-made-up-the-Upside-Down hybrid of vine-ish tentacles was something that just Hopper experienced.

It was a sentiment they all shared as they hacked away at the new growth in the dilapidated Bradley’s Big Buys.

They had already ransacked the general store five times over, and took as much as they could salvage from the wreckage of the other-dimensional mall.

Supplies were needed, and they had to be smart about it.

Things had been quiet lately.

Not many beasties out and about since the night they all seemed to come to.

Hopper had said something about the gate closing and the brain being cut off from the body.

Billy hadn’t listened.

He’d been scared off his ass and all that had really registered was clear for now.

So, they made supply runs. And poked around town for any survivors left to take back to Basecamp Harrington. Only Billy called it that.

They had the runs down to a system.

Pry away any vines they could, burning them back as they went, making enough room to slip into the bargain store, gather as much canned food and grimy medical supplies as they could manage, and book it back to the relative safety of the big house on the edge of the forest.

Nobody talked about what they’d do when they ran out of supplies. When they’d exhausted their resources and were stuck with nothing but the vines on the ground and the spores in the air.

Billy got it.

It’s not like he wants to hear he’ll probably die of starvation and/or a gangrenous infection before he’s eighteen.

They just. Make do.

Ration food and keep each other safe.

Always thinking about the minute they’re in and the minute coming up. Not looking too far forward.

There’s nothing to see too far in the future.

Billy crashed the blunt end of his ax through the sliding door at the front of the store, clearing away as much as he could.

Janet and Andrew would slip inside first go, taking as much as they could carry with them. Next round, Heather would take the little one and gather anything left.

Billy would keep watch.

He always kept watch.

Things had been too good for too long.

After the first wave of those who didn’t make it, the whole broken side of the Earth was too kind to them. Not sending horrible fleshy monsters to nearly suck out their very souls.

Billy didn’t think this could last for much longer.

Heather took the little one by the hand, rushing past her mother and Andrew as they returned with their supplies. Billy did a quick scan of them, noting no new injuries. Nothing out of the norm.

Supply runs were choreographed down to the minute.

Should the group not return in forty-five minutes, a search team was sent out.

The small group trudged back to the Harrington safehouse, keeping in the shadows, not a single one of them daring to speak. Billy walked slightly behind the others, never letting himself relax for a single second.

Things were too quiet.

The feeling hit Steve over the head like a sack of bricks being whacked against his skull.

Walking into his home was like walking into a stinking den of fear and anxiety. The air was clogged with so many emotions Steve felt like he was choking on them, slowly being crushed under their weight.

Whoever was emitting all these, Steve felt sorry for them. He can’t imagine living with this much bad energy taking up space in someone’s brain. He could barely cope with his own terrible bullshit. He doesn’t know how someone could cope with this.

He tried to move through his evening to the best of his ability.

He nearly set the house on fire when he left the tin foil covering on his frozen meal, causing the microwave to spark angrily at him, the potatoes underneath the corner of foil that had nearly caught fire to smolder and blacken.

Even in the shower, the water as hot and steamy as he could stand, he felt that prickle he couldn’t get rid of.

Like if he could just close his eyes and reach out far enough, his fingers would brush someone else. Someone nearby.

He’s felt it before. That there was a person just out of reach. A person he could feel clear as a bell, but couldn’t alter. Couldn’t manipulate. Just had to experience everything that was going on inside and try to hold on for the ride.

He wore headphones to bed, blasting a mixtape Robin had made for him last month. Something with a lot of heavy guitars and girls wailing about society.

He doesn’t think it was all that good, but it helped. Helped him feel like maybe the person wasn’t seeping into his own soul.

And the whining synth of Patti Smith finally let him get some goddamn sleep.

“Hello?”

It was his house.

But it wasn’t his house.

It was a blank void. It was nothing. It was nowhere.

But for some reason, his brain kept telling him it was his house.

“Harrington?”

It was Billy. Hargrove.

But it wasn’t Billy.

He was dirty, covered in soot and horrible black sludge that made Steve’s stomach churn.

“Why are you in my house?”

Billy looked around the blank void all around them. Water sloshed on the floor, lapping at Billy’s black boots. Steve observed his own toes.

He was barefoot, but he couldn’t feel the water.

“This is your house?”

Steve didn’t want to explain.

“You’re dead.”

“Could be soon.”

Nothing Billy said made any sense. But then, Billy never made much sense when he was alive, either.

He was an enigma to Steve. A big question mark all wrapped up with a gorgeous face and perfect body.

“Where is this to you?”

Why was Steve’s brain so adamant on declaring this place his house?

“Somewhere safe.”

So.

That’s something.

Dreaming about Harrington.

Not necessarily something that Billy wanted to have happen to him while he was experiencing the worst possible time in his life.

Or maybe he did.

He’d said it in the dream.

Somewhere safe.

It’s what he felt in that blackness.

Safety. Warmth. Hope.

All the shit he hasn’t felt since he opened his eyes in the rank-ass library.

That darkness was like a harness, keeping him grounded to something real. Tucking him in gently at night and kissing him on the head.

It made waking up that much shittier.

Knowing he’d be on nightwatch with Heather and Janet tonight, he used resting up as an excuse to lay on his cot, hardly moving in the clouded air.

He needed to process.

There was something so fucking weird about that dream.

It felt real in the moment, and he didn’t question anything that had happened.

Why there was water on the ground at his feet? Why Harrington was there wearing pajamas Billy could only describe as skanky? All of this made perfect fucking sense to dream Billy.

Awake Billy, had some fuckin’ questions.

Mostly, those previously listed. As well as: what the fuck?

He blames seeing Steve specifically on being in his house. That makes sense. You tend to think about a guy quite a lot when you’re living in the broken shell of his family home. He blames seeing Steve in those itsy-bitsy shorts and a homemade cropped t-shirt on the well repressed sexual interest he refused to admit he felt towards the guy.

All that made sense.

But everything else.

Steve said he was dead.

Was he dead?

Was this Hell?

Purgatory?

He’s read The Divine Comedy, and this doesn’t quite match up with any of the shit Dante waxed on about.

And dream Billy didn’t think that was a weird thing to say to someone. To accuse them of being dead. He just said could be soon and then acted like that was a normal fucking response.

His head was spinning out of control.

The only thing that made sense was when Billy said they were somewhere safe.

Because, they were.

Even in the void place, he knew they were safe.

There was a small tapping sound on the wall next to the open door frame.

The door had long since rotted right through.

“Miss Janet sent me to see if you’re alright.”

Andrew was always calling Janet Holloway Miss Janet.

It makes Billy wonder if manners like that were beaten into him by a father like Neil.

He hopes not.

He likes Andrew too much for that.

Andrew hovered around while Billy swung himself out of his cot.

He changed out the bandana over his mouth and nose.

Most of them slept fully dressed, even with their shoes and socks still firmly on their feet.

You had to be ready to go at the slightest sound of Bad in this place.

Plus, everything was so goddamn dirty, what’s a little mud in the sheets in the grand scheme of things? And the rancid rotting smell of the Upside Down did wonders to cover the smell of body odor.

Billy followed Andrew down the L-shaped hallway, to the sitting room where he found Janet and Heather huddled together on one couch, the little one between them.

“Apparently something happened on the run last night.”

Billy’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t make out Janet’s expression under her face covering. The little one got up from his spot on the couch, standing in Billy’s shadow. He liked to do that. Billy figured he felt safe behind someone so much bigger and stronger than him. Someone with a big fuckin’ weapon that was never too far away.

“Who’d we lose?”

“No one. Everyone’s okay. Hopper just called all of us for a discussion, then went to the basement.”

The basement was Hopper’s domain with his little chunk of the crew.

He had found some busted up H.A.M. radio from somewhere he refused to explain, and spent all the time he wasn’t watching over his shoulder for threats or gathering supplies from smashed grocery stores, trying to fix it up, tuning it to different crackling stations, and yelling into it.

El. El, I need you to copy if you can hear me. El!

The pillow was a mess of blood the next morning.

It was congealed and cracked and tacky against his face and made the pillowcase stick to his cheek and his bloody upper lip in a way that kinda made Steve wanna puke a little bit.

His nose had bled in the night.

He never got nosebleeds.

Unless he used his power.

And that dream.

That blank void space and that mucky scraggly Billy lookin’ like the hunky star of some apocalypse movie.

Wait.

Blood forgotten, smeared on his face and neck, Steve tossed himself towards the phone on his nightstand, smacking his shoulder against the wooden corner and tumbling to the floor, his legs still tangled in his sheets on the bed.

He couldn’t deal with anything, snatching the phone up and punching in the only number that was grinding through his head.

“ Pick up pick up pick up pick up pick up, ” he muttered into the receiver.

His upper body was still flopped over to the plush carpet, legs twitching and shaking on the bed with his anxiety.

He’s had some massive fucking realizations and he needs backup.

“This is the Byers.”

“Put El on the phone.”

“Oh. Steve’s covered in blood again. The Upside Down must really be back,” Dustin said in complete monotone as Steve opened the door.

Steve couldn’t give less of a fuck right now.

He felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough, all coming in the neat package of a major breakdown.

He felt manic and shaky and so what if he forgot he was covered in the aftermath of a superpower-nosebleed-explosion?

“Shut up. Just get in.”

El had rallied the old troops from St. Paul, calling everyone at the ass-crack o’fuck in the morning and saying something about catching some weird Hawkins vibes all the way from Minnesota.

It was a fucking weak excuse, but explaining the whole Steve situation was just not really in the cards today.

He’s got an agenda and they need to stick to it.

Robin said she’d gather Max on the way to Steve’s place, and Nancy was probably hauling Mike and Lucas over faster than a speeding gun or whatever that expression is, so all Steve had to do was get his story straight.

“And maybe you should think about putting on a clean shirt? At the very least. I’d say, maybe just start over. Take a shower. Powerwash your face, even.”

“When the fuck did you become sarcastic ?”

“Right after you became friends with the coolest chick on the planet and then decided you’re too good for her.”

“ Chick. Don’t call Robin a chick. And I’ve told you, we’re just friends. I’m not too good for her.”

Really, Steve thought she was too good for him.

Well, that, and there’s the whole part where she’s super totally not into guys at all.

“So, what’s this all about, anyway? Mike said on the phone that El called him and left a really cryptic message.”

“Look. She called me to explain and ask if everyone could meet here,” Steve lied. “I’ll give you guys a recap once the rest of the gang shows.”

“But she thinks there’s something going on with the Upside Down? Again ?”

“I think she knows there’s something going on with the Upside Down.”

The more Steve sat with the memory of how Billy looked in that dream, the more he was certain of where he was.

Billy had been ratty. His normally perfect hair was long and limp, greasy on top and matted around his face. He was sporting a patchy beard, nothing like the fuckin’ pornstache the guy had been rocking all last summer.

And he was filthy. Covered in grime and dirt, and Steve’s sure if he’d looked harder, he would’ve seen traces of that viscous black goo that only meant bad news.

There was a squeal of tires, an alarm signaling the arrival of Nancy in her mother’s station wagon, toting her brother and Lucas.

“I’m in this now, Lucas Sinclair!” came Erica’s voice from the entryway.

Steve was tapping his foot impatiently.

“Erica, you accidentally found out about all this!”

“So did you!”

The Sinclair siblings’ bickering was only cut by the sound of the Wheeler siblings snapping at one another in turn.

“Am I the only one that thinks it doesn’t make sense to meet up this early? El and Will are like, seven hours away!”

“Mike! It doesn’t matter. We all have to talk and figure out what’s going on.”

The sounds of arguments all quieted abruptly as the four people rounded the corner and caught sight of Steve.

“Oh, Jesus. Who kicked your ass this time?” Mike snipped at Steve.

Oh, yeah. He keeps forgetting he’s covered in his own nose blood.

“What? It’s nothing. I kicked my own ass. Just take a seat.”

“I told you to-”

Steve didn’t wanna hear it.

He loves all these people, but his head kinda felt like it was full of mushy jelly and runny pudding and all the loud talking wasn’t doing much to help.

He stepped out onto the porch, snagging the pack of cigarettes he kept stowed in the flower box next to the door.

It took two to finally tame his nerves any.

Sitting there with all the people in his house waiting for an explanation, he kinda felt like his haphazard plan was shit and going to fall through immediately.

Just tell them El called. Tell them she saw Billy in the nowhere place and she thinks he’s alive. Easy as pie.

The tell-tale sound of a skateboard making its way closer and closer announced Max before he saw her.

Robin was pedaling next to her, helmet lopsided on her head and not buckled underneath her chin.

They were talking animatedly to one another, their laughter dying as soon as they saw Steve waiting for them.

“Fuck. So this is real.”

“Why does everyone think I got the shit beat outta me?”

“Your ass gets creamed every time some spooky shit goes down in this place, Harrington,” Max informed him.

She was a little Billy replica, all the way down to the way the corner of her mouth twitched up when she said his name.

It would’ve been sad. The way she tried to become her brother after losing him so violently last summer.

But something like relief settled into his bones, strong and real and wait ‘til I tell her Billy’s not dead and he was laughing. Curling in on himself cackling so hard his stomach had already begun to get sore

“Fuck. He’s lost it,” Robin sighed, ditching her bike next to Dustin’s and heaving Steve up, both hands underneath his armpits.

Nobody dared speak.

“And you’re sure? You’re positive you heard one of those things?”

Janet had her arms twisted over her chest, her jaw tight as she watched Hopper’s every move.

“It’s not really a sound you forget.”

Billy’s hand was shaking, he was gripping the ax so hard.

“So, we’re fucked,” Angela said harshly. Her cold voice sent ice down Billy’s spine. “If those things are back, we don’t stand a fucking chance.”

Hopper scrubbed his hand over his brow, sighing through the cloth over his mouth and nose.

“It just means I have to try harder. I can get to El, I know I can.”

Hopper said that a lot. But he never explained what getting to El meant.

Heather had explained she met El once, but she said it was weird and she only saw her like some kind of shadow, a figment in this dark empty place. Somewhere as cold and broken as the Upside Down felt.

The little one was leaned up against Billy, his left hand balled in the edge of Billy’s leather jacket. He stood like that a lot. It was grounding for Billy. Kinda like holding Max’s hand when she was young and still thought he was the coolest person she’d ever met.

“But, you only heard something, right? So it very well could be nothing.” Timothy was good at keeping mediator. He always kept a level head and talked slowly and calmly. They needed someone like him in this nightmare.

“They make this noise. This kind of wet chirping. Like this gurgle that just sounds like they’re watching you, ready to pounce out at any time, shrieking and attacking. It’s not a sound you forget.” Hopper had this horrible haunted look on his face, and Billy fucking believed him.

“Then we up nightwatch. Stick together,” Billy offered. He never usually piped up with strategy, but that’s the best he’s got, and frankly, he thinks it’s the only way they’d all be able to make it through.

“Exactly. We move in a pack now. Keep track of everyone together, and stay aware of what’s around us. I think we should do a major run and then lock up for a few days to see what goes down.”

Hopper leaned back in the ratty armchair he was taking up, looking around to see if anyone challenged his ideas.

Billy had given up his alpha male attitude the second Hopper yanked his upper arm and nearly screamed at him, asking Billy if he was ‘one of the flayed’ all while aggressively checking him over for injuries.

First time any of Neil’s lessons actually sunk in.

Respect and responsibility.

If that fucker could see Billy now, doing nothing but respecting authority and taking responsibility for all these peoples’ lives.

“We should rest up. Take a run tonight. Get a lay of the land,” Timothy said with an air of finality. Nobody argued.

Hopper nodded.

Everyone broke out from the Harringtons’ living room, milling around to get prepared for tonight’s run. Taking stock of what they needed to keep going for the next few days.

Billy was itching to slide back into his cot and try to seek out that space if he can. The empty space where Harrington and that warm feeling of safe existed.

The little one stayed clinging to his jacket, and Billy took a loose hold of his wrist, trying to provide some kind of basic comfort to the tiny kid.

“You wanna go raid the cabinet?” The kid stared up at Billy with big eyes. Billy could never tell what color they were in the gloom. He thinks maybe green.

The cabinet was a large door, built into the wall of the sitting room, and clearly where the Harringtons kept their games.

They had these excruciating couple thousand-piece puzzles, the pictures peeling and faded on the pieces. They had Trivial Pursuit and backgammon, and all kindsa shit.

The little one went and pulled out the checkers board. That was the only game Billy knew how to play anyhow.

He and Max used to sit for hours, playing with this dinosaur-themed checker game Max’s dad got for her one birthday.

It helped, playing a game. Helped pass the time. Help bait the anxiety.

Helped them all feel a little bit closer to human.

“I don’t. Get it.”

Apparently, Nancy was not the only one, if the blank stares Steve was receiving from around his living room were anything to go by.

“Yeah, why did she call you ?” Mike’s snitty tone was really grating on Steve’s fragile nerves.

“She said, she called to make sure everyone could come over here before she told you all to just show up this early on a Sunday morning and then she kinda explained what happened.”

Max was white as a sheet, tracking Steve like he was playing a horrible joke on her.

“And she saw Billy. Billy Hargrove .”

Steve nodded at Dustin.

“Why does she think he’s in the Upside Down?” Robin asked, perched on the coffee table, sitting closest to where he was standing nervously.

“She just knows .”

It was frustrating, trying to impart the seriousness of the situation without just spilling his guts.

He rubbed absentmindedly at the cigar burn on his wrist.

“I just don’t believe this. I talked to her three days ago, and she’s still having trouble with her powers. She can barely move a book, and hasn’t been able to get to the void since July, and you’re saying she accidentally saw Billy Hargrove, who we all saw murder a bunch of people and then get killed -”

“Shut up! He wasn’t himself!” Max shrieked out over Mike, the only time she’d even opened her mouth since Steve had mentioned her stepbrother’s name.

“Even if he is alive, El couldn’t have seen him! It doesn’t make sense!” Mike’s voice rose over Max’s, and Steve has a fucking headache and he’s over it.

“It was me! I had a dream. I went to the void. I saw Billy in the Upside Down. I called El to say she saw him.”

Everyone went dead silent, staring at him.

“Steve,” Robin began, searching his face.

It was like all the wind that had been filling up his sails, powering his energy ship, had suddenly quit blowing.

Steve was tired.

He sank to the floor, crossing his legs where he sat.

“I need you all to shut the fuck up for a moment and let me explain, because I only wanna say all this shit once.” He covered his bloody face with his hands. “I’m like El.”

That statement hung in the air for a moment.

And then there was a roar of noise.

“How could you keep this a secret?” Dustin shouted.

“Not in a million years !” Lucas decided. Erica yelled something back at him, vaguely defending Steve, which was nice.

“You mean you came from the lab?” Mike had a look on his face like he’d swallowed a particularly bitter lemon.

“Everybody, shut the fuck up!” Max roared, glowering at each person until they were silent again.

In all this Robin hadn’t said a word. She was pale, staring at Steve.

“Look, I don’t wanna go into it because it fucking sucks to think about,” Steve still hadn’t uncovered his face. “But yeah. I was in the lab. I got out because they decided I was a failed experiment. My mom worked at the lab and she took me and we pretended like the three of us moved here from Oklahoma and my dad told me never to tell anyone. And I haven’t. Didn’t even tell El. She recognized me from then. Don’t even know how, I left when she was like, three. Doesn’t matter. I’m a freaky lab kid and last night I fell asleep and saw Billy in that-what’d you call it? The void? Yeah, I saw him, and he’s covered in dirt and gross black Upside Down shit, and he’s fucking stuck there, and now we’re here.”

There was another silence.

Steve didn’t dare to look at any of them.

He didn’t want them to laugh in his face. Tell him he was making all this shit up and leave him alone to deal with Billy trapped somewhere else.

He wanted them to take his word for it. To quietly believe this crazy fucking shit of a story because the scared other feeling was back and clawing at his spine and making him want to burrow into the ground and find somewhere safe and secure and-

“Okay.”

Of course it was Robin.

It was always Robin.

Steve let himself look at her.

She was pale, but she was smiling at him.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Steve nodded once.

“Okay. Uh, great.”

“Wait, if you’re defective, no offense, then how did you see Billy?”

Steve stared at Max weighing his answer carefully.

“Because, well, the defective thing, that was all, I didn’t mean to, that was before I really understood what I could do. Don’t get me wrong, it really worked out, but it was an accident.”

“Spit it out, Sailor Man.”

“ Erica .”

Erica just rolled her eyes at Lucas.

“Okay. Uh, before I explain, just, just keep in mind that I have rules, and I don’t use my powers if I can avoid them, and I’d never use them to be a creep, but-”

“Steve!”

“Fine!” The words were right there, ready to tumble out of his mouth and ruin his life forever.

There was no going back after this.

The second they knew, everything would be different.

“I can feel other peoples’ emotions and, like, change them.”

Another silence.

“I don’t understand.”

Nancy was the last person he’d ever want to have this conversation with.

He knows what she’s thinking. He knows that the great anger brewing inside her is because she assumes he made her like him. Made her attracted to him.

Made her want him.

“I don’t use it like that. I would never, put something there that shouldn’t be there. It’s just, When someone feels something near me, I can tap into it. Let it become my own feelings. And then I just, change it. Just a little.” He cast around for a harmless example because so far, everyone was staring at him like a goddamn creep. “Robin!”

She startled slightly when he yelled at her.

“Okay, so Robin. I’d never, ever make you feel something not true to you. Like, I’d never make it so you were into me when you’re totally not, right?” He cast a glance at Nancy. “But, like, the other day, when you felt really shitty when I invited you over and you were studying, I just, I made it so you wouldn’t feel bad. I felt all this guilt you had for leaving me alone when you thought I was having a shitty day, and I made it so you didn’t feel guilty because you shouldn’t. That’s the kinda level I allow myself to work on.”

The look Robin was giving him was breaking his fucking heart.

Worse still, was the feeling of betrayal that began eating away at her.

“So, right now. You can tell what we’re all feeling?” Even Lucas, ever the level-headed one, couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I don’t want to. I don’t try to, but I can’t really avoid it. I just try to ignore it. But sometimes, sometimes if I bottle it all up for a while, it comes crashing out of me, and that’s when bad shit happens. If I don’t use it occasionally, it only wakes things worse, and I-”

“I can’t hear this.”

Robin’s anger crashed through Steve like a wave, nearly knocking him over. She stood, towering over him.

“When we were in that bathroom, all drugged out of our minds. I-” she sniffed, rage tears pooling in her eyes. Steve likes her eyes. So crystal blue. “Are we even really friends?”

Her last question was nothing more than a whisper.

And it made Steve wish he was never born.

He gaped at her like a dead fish.

“Rob, of course we are! I would never-”

“Because I hated you. And then one summer. Two whole months where we’re close enough that you can get all up in my brain, and suddenly I’m telling you shit I’ve never told anyone before.”

“It wasn’t, Robin I swear, that whole time, I never once used-”

She held up her hand, cutting him off.

A sob caught in his throat as she turned on her heel.

She slammed the door closed behind her.

Another fucking silence.

Steve couldn’t look anyone in the eye.

Their feelings were enough for him now, betrayal and anger and disappointment rushing into his lungs, drowning him. Choking him.

“You’ve used them on all of us.”

It wasn’t a question.

It was just a statement. The coldest he’s ever heard Dustin sound.

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“Jesus, Steve. You realize that’s actually totally fucked up, right? You can’t just make us feel whatever you want,” Dustin bellowed at him, standing up like Robin had done, looking down at Steve where he sat pathetically on the floor.

And, when it’s put like that.

Sure.

It’s kinda fucked up.

But he’s only ever meddled in a way that’s good. He only ever tries to make his friends feel the positives. Hell, on the night of that stupid Snow Ball, he’d given Dustin enough self-confidence to make Madonna seem insecure.

All he does is try to help.

“All I do is try to help.”

More fucking silence.

Steve was so goddamn sick of silence. All he had was silence. He had the nothing, empty quiet. And he didn’t want it from the people who were supposed to make his life loud.

“El won’t be here until later tonight. I think we should just meet up then.”

Steve buried his head in his hands, biting back sobs as the small group filtered out of his house.

This is why he had wanted to take this secret with him to death.

He told everyone who he really is, and now they all hate him, and he’s completely alone, and wherever Billy is he’s fucking scared and-

“Steve?”

Max’s voice was small, mirroring the way she was curled in on herself in the plush armchair near the wall.

“Do you really think Billy’s alive?”

Steve nodded at her, desperately begging her to stay. To help him.

“I know he is.”

“I have an idea.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

Doesn’t remember much of anything in this place.

He studied the water lapping at his muddy boots, dragging his toes through it to make the water wave and ripple.

It didn’t make a sound.

“I want to help.”

Billy knew Steve was there even before he spoke.

Something about the warmth he brought to the void place.

The safety.

“Don’t know if you can.”

Steve’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile at that. His face was covered in blood, dried and flaking away from his skin, painted all the way down his face and neck, some staining the collar of his shirt.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“That happens when the only interactions you have with a guy are to beat his ass.”

Steve cracked a real smile at that. Something big and bright that made Billy’s gut twist in a way he didn’t quite like.

“You’re forgetting all those other times we spent together. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Yeah, Billy knows.

Mostly because he wasn’t trying to be subtle.

He had talked to Steve about his bitchy ex while they both had their dicks out in the shower. He was trying to be very much un-subtle.

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

“I know.”

Oh.

Steve knows.

And all he had done was stare blankly at Billy.

Nice.

“I need to know where you are.”

“Why?”

“Because I can help.”

Billy just blinked at Steve.

“Do you know El?”

Something funny happened to Steve’s face. He kind of gave a little smile that flickered into a frown and landed on something a little pinched and awkward.

“Yeah. How do you know her?”

“Hopper keeps saying he needs to get to her. None of us know what he’s talking about.”

And with that, Steve’s eyes went huge, and his jaw dropped. The water at Billy’s ankles sloshed quietly.

“Hopper’s there? Chief Hopper? Jim Hopper is there?”

“Jesus, yeah. Been here since we all woke up.”

Steve acted like Billy had told him that Farrah Fawcett herself was on her way to shave his head.

Meaning, he looked struck fucking dumb.

“I’m gonna need you to explain.”

“I don’t know. Don’t remember much. Crashed my car on one of your shitty backwoods roads, and then everything is just, kinda, gone. I woke up in this shithole version of the library and Hopper found me here and we’ve kinda set up camp.”

Billy shrugged lamely. Something was dripping, he could hear the sound of it far behind him.

“There’s more of you? How many?”

“Not as many as there should be.”

Steve’s mouth pinched, and his big droopy eyes went all sweet and sad.

“Where are you? Where’s the camp?”

Billy was suddenly embarrassed. There was a sound like a stream flowing over rocks.

What’s he supposed to say? The hellscape skeleton of your house oh and by the way all your stuff is here and I slept in your bed once because I was scared and sad.

“Someone’s house. Don’t know whose.”

Steve huffed some air out of his nostrils, his mouth pinching again.

Billy hadn’t realized someone could make so many different expressions just by pursing their lips in different ways.

“Find out. We’re coming to get you.”

A crash of a wave, and Billy was back in hell.

Steve sucked in lungfuls of air, tossing the towel that had been covering his eyes to the ground.

“You saw him.”

Max was sitting in front of him, the t.v. playing static behind her.

“Yeah. He’s okay. I mean, he’s really gross. Like, he’s-sorry. He’s okay.”

Max was still staring at him like she didn’t quite know how to proceed.

“But he’s in the Upside Down?”

“Yeah. And there’s others. He said Hopper’s there, that he’s been trying to contact El.”

“Wait, Hopper? He’s alive?”

“Billy said all of the flayed woke up after the Fourth of July in the Upside Down. He doesn’t know anything that happened in this world, and Hopper was there and they’ve set up, like, some kind of camp, or whatever. He said they’re in someone’s house. He doesn’t know who.”

“ Fuck .”

Yeah, Steve agrees with that sentiment.

This whole thing was like, kind of a lot.

And deep inside him, those other feelings had yet to leave him alone all day.

There was some kind of disappointment knocking about in his brain.

He knows it’s Billy.

All of those other feelings, it’s whatever Billy is feeling right that minute wherever he is.

And it only happens when Steve is-

“Max, he’s here.”

She whipped around behind her, staring at the front door like Billy could waltz through it at any moment.

“No, no not here, here .” She clearly didn’t understand. He used the towel to wipe the fresh blood from his upper lip, still having yet to clean himself up any. “The camp, the safeplace, it’s here. They’ve set up in my house!”

It felt like a revelation on par with the greatest inventions. Steve felt like the scientist that landed the man on the moon or the very first person to melt cheese onto fries.

A genius.

“So, he’s, I mean, he could be, just, here .” She looked over the room wistfully, and Steve knew how she felt. Like she wanted to pierce her hands into thin air, tearing a hole in between the two worlds and ripping Billy straight outta hell.

(Really, she just filled him with a wave of fierce determination, but Steve likes to take poetic license on other people’s feelings sometimes.)

“And you can feel him.”

“Yeah.”

“Is he, okay?”

And he knows this question.

Not the okay he assured her of when he first saw Billy. Soothing that he wasn’t missing any internal organs or possessed by any monsters.

She wants to know if he’s held it together.

“He’s scared. He’s always scared. But he’s really fucking stubborn, and he- I don’t know why he feels these things, but sometimes he gets kinda sad. Almost like he’s lost something, and sometimes, it feels like he’s caught fire, and his insides are just going up in flame and he gets overwhelmed by them. And sometimes he feels-” He hadn’t meant to continue.

“Tell me.”

He’s pretty sure Max knew what he was going to say next.

She just wanted it confirmed.

“Hopeless. Sometimes he feels hopeless.”

She sniffed, her eyes shining as she looked anywhere that wasn’t Steve.

“But, we know now. He doesn’t have to be hopeless anymore. We’ll find a way in, and we’ll get him out.”

He didn’t want to manipulate her.

He didn’t want to cross the boundaries everyone clearly thought he already had.

But he was positive he would find a way to Billy. He was positive he would get him out and get him home.

He sent a wave of that determination and hope and conviction to her.

“Yeah. We’ll get him.”

“Hopper, man, some funky shit is going down.”

Hopper whirled around quickly, halfway to his feet and asking who's been hurt before Billy raised both hands, acting like he was calming an anxious horse.

“Nah, sorry, shoulda worded that better. I just mean, something’s happened to me. With me, maybe. I don’t know. Just hear me out. This shit’s gonna sound, insane.”

Hopper didn’t say anything as Billy explained, beginning with that night when the wall shattered next to his head, and ending with his most recent trip to the void place.

Billy shrugged lamely when he finished explaining.

“So, Harrington, huh? Never woulda guessed he was like her. You sure you didn’t see a little girl anywhere in the blank place?”

“No. It was just us. Both times.”

Hopper leaned back in his chair, scratching a hand through his thick beard.

“The first time one of the demogorgons showed up on our side was behind Steve’s house. Took Will Byers from his shed. They live some few miles away. Second time was in Harrington’s backyard. Took Barbara Holland.” Hopper sighed, looking in the direction of the busted radio. Billy could more or less see the cogs turning in his head. “If you see him again, tell him where we are. Tell him I think the walls are thinnest here. That maybe he and El could tear through. Better yet, tell him to find me if he can.”

He clapped Billy on the shoulder, looking right at him in that way he did sometimes. It always made Billy feel like a little kid.

“Thank you, kid. You might’ve just saved us.”

Billy felt awkward and didn’t really know what to do with his face. Thankfully, Hopper turned away from him, cutting the moment short and moving back to fiddling with the old radio.

Billy ducked his way up and back to the furthest bedroom on the ground floor, taking a seat on his low cot and digging his palms into his eyes.

He didn’t know how the void happened. If he could only get there in his sleep, or if it was Steve’s doing somehow.

“C’mon, Steve. Where are you? Come find me, Pretty Boy. We gotta talk.”

When he moved his hands away, he was in that blank place.

Billy was taken aback a bit, thinking somehow he had created the place around him.

Until he saw Steve, standing nervously and staring at Billy.

“I felt you. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, you felt me? What in the fuck’s that supposed to mean.”

“Don’t worry about it. What happened? Are you guys okay?”

Steve wasn’t covered in blood anymore.

In fact, he looked freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and soft-looking without product.

It’s how he always looked right after having a post-practice shower. Clean and warm. Soft and inviting.

“I talked to Hopper. He told me to give you a message.”

Steve’s eyes lit up, and he took a step towards Billy, the water rippling where his foot disturbed the surface.

“He said, well. He told me where we are. Apparently, we’re at your place.” Billy tried to smirk a little, act like this was brand new information to him.

“Yeah. I gathered.”

“He thinks the walls are thinnest at your place. Said that maybe you and El could tear through easily. That mean anything to you?”

Steve nodded so hard his bangs flopped right into his eyes.

He pushed his hair out of his face, tucking some behind his ear. Billy tracked the movement.

“We’re going to try tonight. Maybe around six. Can you guys be ready by then?”

“We don’t have any way to track time around here. Don’t even know if it’s day or night, really.”

Steve bit his soft bottom lip, looking at Billy like he wanted to cry for him.

“Then I’ll come and get you before. Warn you when we’re about to start. Make sure everyone stays close. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep it sustained, and we want to get everyone out if we can.”

“Steve, man, what in the fuck is going on? I’ve been shut up in this place for, for I don’t even know how long, and all of a sudden, you just start showing up in my head and telling me that you’re gonna take point on this big fuckin’ rescue mission.”

Billy doesn’t want to admit it to anyone, least of all Steve Harrington, but he’s scared, and confused, and he genuinely wishes that he had died in that library instead of waking up.

“I’ll explain it when you get back.”

And Steve smiled at him and the corners of his eyes crinkled and Billy didn’t quite feel like he wanted to die anymore.

“Where are they?”

El didn’t even say hello when she pushed Steve’s front door open, just made straight for Max and Steve in the sitting room.

“They’re all being dicks,” was Max’s answer. “Steve told us about how you two know each other, and everyone kinda freaked.”

“I mean, it’s pretty freaky.”

“Yeah, sure, but they didn’t need to be such shitbirds about it.”

Somewhere between feeling harshly angry at Steve and his powers and hearing her brother’s voice crackle through the television speaker, Max had pretty much ensconced Steve as her sidekick.

Which he didn’t mind in the least.

It was kinda odd seeing the Byers in his house.

Jonathan looked. Exactly the same.

Like literally. His hair had grown out since his mother had taken a pair of scissors and a bowl to it last summer, and he looked just like the Hawkins Jonathan Steve was used to.

It was kinda nice.

At least one thing hasn’t changed.

Especially because Will is pretty much unrecognizable.

He had shot up, growing until he could nearly look Steve in the eye. And thank God, he must've followed Jonathan’s footsteps and stopped letting Joyce cut his hair.

It was longer, adn shaggier, but it made him look so grown up.

Nearly as grownup as El, her hair nearly down to her shoulder blades, the top of her head coming up on Steve’s chin, showing off the signs of her own growth spurt.

Even Joyce was sporting a new look. Longer hair with bangs that were swept off her face.

She gave Steve a comforting hug, and those were just the same.

Unease filled the room.

Nobody knew what they were walking into. El had to have given them the basics, and Steve figures she explained some on the long drive back to town, but there had been even more developments since the last they had spoken this morning.

Steve sifted through the borderline panic of Max and the Byers, clinging onto the fierce calm that El was radiating. Probably for his benefit more than her own actual experience.

“I know where Billy is. We talked. I have an idea.” He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the feelings. “Hopper’s alive.”

It took a second.

El’s carefully maintained calm wavered for a moment.

And then it crashed down.

Disbelief, relief, denial, anger, hope, joy.

Everything a person could possibly feel at once poured out of El and Joyce both, nearly knocking Steve off his feet with the sheer velocity of the emotions.

“Saw him?”

“No. But Billy mentioned him. He said he’s been trying to get to you.”

El’s eyes filled with tears, and Steve could feel the satisfaction, the pride, welling up in her that Hopper was still thinking of her. That he was trying to reach out.

“My powers,” she trailed off.

“Yeah. I know. But, he said, well, he told Billy to tell me, he thinks the walls are thinnest here. Maybe in the woods outback. He thinks we can do it.”

Sorry,” Joyce interrupted. She had gathered herself somewhat, but her feelings were still shaky.

She always felt like she was trembling emotionally. Joyce felt everything nearly as viscerally as Billy did.

“I think we’re not on the same page. Steve, you spoke to Billy? El said she sensed him.”

“Steve is like me. From Papa.”

“You mean, from the lab?” Jonathan clarified.

Everyone was staring at Steve again and he felt like burrowing a hole right through the floor and hiding underground forever.

“Yeah, I got out when I was a kid. My parents were pretty hell-bent on hiding it from everyone. But. You know. Cat’s outta the bag now. But yes, it was me who saw Billy. He’s in the Upside Down. A bunch of people are. Including Hopper. It sounds like they were all taken and the flayed people out here were like, fake. Like evil twin versions.”

Sure, it’s a shitty explanation.

It’s the best he can do, okay? Leave him alone.

“So, what’s his plan, then?”

That’s the good thing about the Byers, though. They get the whole, priority thing. Now’s not the time to focus on shit like Steve’s fake life. Not when the Upside Down is concerned.

“Billy didn’t say much. Just that he thinks maybe El and I could like, band together to open it. I don’t really know how, I mean, I haven’t thought about it much, I just spoke to him, but that's the idea. I told him I would meet him in the void or whatever before we go so he can gather everyone and get ready.”

“So, is it just us?” Will asked quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. He was disappointed. His friends not being where they were needed. Not being there to see him for the first time since his family moved away months ago.

Steve shrugged.

He was battling his own disappointment and hurt at everyone ditching him.

“No. Let’s start calling. We need to stick together for this one. Billy hasn’t said anything about how bad the Upside Down has been, and we need to be ready to fight off anything that tries to get through.”

“Max is right. They should be here.” Will was already making his way to the phone placed on the side table. “They need to be here.”

Jonathan caught Steve’s eye, jerking his head slightly to the hallway.

Steve followed him, already knowing the line of questioning that was about to hit him.

“I knew you called El. I picked up this morning. Now the story makes a lot more sense, I guess.”

“Yeah. I’ve been getting this weird feeling for a couple months, but I finally put it all together. Probably would’ve happened faster it is was El.”

“I don’t know. She’s been struggling a lot. She practices every day, but,” he sighed” I don’t know if she’s strong enough to make this work.”

He’s worried, adn scared, and has that exact same tremble-feeling that his mother does.

“I know. I just don’t think we can leave them any longer. Billy said they’ve already lost people. I don’t know what it’s been like for them, but they’ve been stuck for fucking months, and-”

This time, it hit him so hard he really did blackout.

His vision clouded around him, and his whole body burned with the raging fear inside of him.

He could hear something, could hear someone screaming, adn something, something that sounded horrible, and so very very like a-

“Demogorgon!”

It’s like it had come out of nowhere.

This towering figure, long and thin in all the wrong fucking ways.

And the sound. Billy realized what Hopper meant about how it’s not something you forget.

They were in some form of a ready position.

Billy among the front of the group, holding his ax he had never let go of in the first place.

His heart was pounding.

We’ll be out soon. We’ll be out soon.

He didn’t believe it.

How could he?

How the fuck is Steve Harrington going to get them out of the worst place ever? No offense to him or anything, but the guy could barely make a goddamn milkshake without spilling something on the sticky tile floor of Scoops Ahoy! and now, Billy’s life is in this guy’s hands while he stares into the jaws of a monster that looks like it stepped right out of H.P. Lovecraft’s wettest dreams.

It’s not like this is the first time he’s had this realization, but he is in way over his fucking head.

“Steve,” Billy grumbled to himself through gritted teeth. “If you can hear me, get us the fuck outta here.”

The thing ahead of them wasn’t moving. It stood in the line of the trees behind Steve’s house.

It was staring down the clump of people on the other side of the backyard.

The air was still.

Billy’s ears were ringing.

He stared the thing down.

Its long fingers twitched.

Someone screamed.

And the thing charged.

It roared like nothing Billy had ever heard before. A shriek that seemed to vibrate Billy’s bones and tremble the earth underneath his feet.

It charged.

Sprinting forward on long thin legs, it loped with a grace that turned Billy’s stomach and made his knees wobble and threaten to give out.

Plant your feet.

It rang through his head, Steve’s voice from, some time Billy couldn’t remember. Or maybe Steve was just the little voice that commanded his bravery now.

Either way, he dug the balls of his feet into the cracked ground, and waited.

Don’t stop fighting.

He swung.

The ax clocked right into the side of the thing, barely cutting into its thick leathery skin, but it slowed it down.

Well, actually.

It made it change course from attacking the group as a whole, to honing in on Billy.

Which was less than awesome.

Billy wrenched the ax out of its tough body, thick, sticky black goo connecting the ax with its entry point as he drew it away.

He swung again, nearly hitting the same place.

The thing cried out, roaring over the sound of screaming and gunshots.

Hopper had his rifle trained on the flowered head of the one Billy was furiously chopping into like a tree.

There were two more, two he hadn’t noticed in his preoccupation with the one in front of him.

He didn’t know who was who. Which gunshot belonged to which gun, which shriek belonged to which animal.

He didn’t know if the cries of pain were from the awful beasts or the people in his camp. He was hoping the former.

He swung again. There was a sickening sound of the metal blade connecting with something solid. Something like bone.

Hopper shot it, once, twice in the head.

It was whining, making a high-pitched noise as it staggered about.

One last blow to the side of the thing, and it was finished.

The monster flopped onto the ground, dark liquid oozing out of it, its body nearly split in half where Billy had hammered it with his ax. A great gaping wound that showed sticky dark entrails.

Billy turned.

His brain was working in slow motion as he charged into the battle still raging.

He didn’t know how many of the things had arrived.

All he knew was taking them out.

His arms were sore from the force he was putting into each blow with his ax. His muscles threatened to give out at any moment.

Drive them back. We’re coming.

The thought was shoved into his head. He didn’t know where it came from but he believed it.

“Help is on the way!” He shouted to no one and everyone.

He had taken down two more demogorgons with the help of the others. One was missing its body, a petal head lolling on the ground, getting trampled on in the fight.

Steve had felt the demogorgon before Billy saw it.

It was an odd feeling, almost like it was a black hole sucking up everything he thought and felt before he could cling onto it.

It made him feel cold, and empty, and just like the Upside Down felt.

“We don’t have time!”

El was insisting on contacting the others. She was livid with them for abandoning Steve, but things were taking a turn for the small group trapped in that hellscape.

“Steve’s right. If there’s a demogorgon there, that means the Mind Flayer has gotten some strength back, wherever he is.”

Steve nodded at Will gratefully.

“But, what’s the idea? You two open the gate. Then what? We wait for those things to come through to our side?” Jonathan asked, kinda harshly, if you ask Steve.

Steve rubbed his eyes, his fists pressing against them so hard he was seeing odd shapes.

“No. I go through. I get them. I bring them back.” His head was a fucking mess. Billy was all over the place. Fear, desperation, and a horrible calm that only came when things looked like the end. Plant your feet, he thought, trying to get his feelings to Billy through the thin dimensional wall. Don’t stop fighting. “For the past few days, all I’ve been able to feel is somebody else’s fucking fear and this stupid stupid stubbornness and I know it’s Billy, and I know he’s in trouble. Like right now. The demogorgons are coming for them, and he’s so scared. He’s so fucking scared and he thinks he’s gonna die, and he’s trapped .”

He looked at each person individually, glaring at them all in the eye.

“We don’t have time.”

So it was decided.

He brought El outside, and stared into the shimmering water of the pool.

The pool where a demon came out and dragged Barbara to her death.

It gave him the fucking creeps. Well, it more gave him the severe anxiety, but there was something about it that made it seem like it was the best place to try and rip the fold between himself and Billy.

Drive them back. We’re coming.

He wanted Billy to have some hope. Something like a lifeline that would keep him fighting the monsters.

He had wrenched his nail bat out of the wall it was still planted in from a few nights ago, and stood next to El, ready to try.

“To be honest, I don’t know how to help you.” It was the only thing that scared him about this plan. “I don’t have the same powers as you. The telekin-the moving stuff around. I don’t know how to open this.”

She looked at him thoughtfully.

“In Chicago. Kali. When I’m angry my powers are better,” she took his hand. “Make me angry.”

Steve closed his eyes.

He tried to push Billy to the side, clinging onto the first bit of El he could sense.

Her anger was like a melted core running through her. Driving her in a lot of ways.

He grabbed onto it.

Papa. Everything he did to your mama. Being locked in isolation. Fights with Hopper. Being trapped in the cabin. Feeling alone and not knowing how to fix it. New kids at school being mean. Techs in the lab that treated us like rats. The smell of skin burning. Parents that called you a freak.

He didn’t know when he had stopped using El’s ready-made rage, and began siphoning his own straight into the beating heart of her fury.

His gut began to feel white-hot, and he could feel the blood dripping down his lip.

Lying to everyone. Being abandoned for the truth. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

Steve was livid.

He’s never felt an emotion consume him like this. Felt one feeling take over so completely it’s like there was nothing else in the world.

He opened his eyes.

There was blood flowing steadily from El’s nose, and he knew his was doing the same.

He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, his body going into overdrive to divert all of his energy to his powers.

The rift glowed red through the clear pool water, splitting open like a seam on a well-worn shirt.

The burn on his arm ached, and he pushed into it.

He remembered being held down on his father’s desk. Remembers the cigar being forced against his skin, bubbling up and disfiguring the tattoo beyond recognition.

He remembers his father, this is for your own good, Steven. You’ll tell everyone you had an accident. People won’t question a burn like they will a tattoo.

Like no one would take one look at the quarter-sized mark and know what would make it.

He remembers getting the tattoo.

It was nearly the same process.

He was strapped down in a chair, his screams going ignored as the needle drove into his skin over and over, leaving a neat black number behind.

001

Number One.

The first in a series of children bred for something more, and beaten into acceptance.

His head felt like it could explode. He didn’t know what was going on around him, was barely aware of El’s sweaty hand in his, and the bright red light coming from the cracked bottom of the pool.

It was open.

Number One took a deep breath, and dived into the pool.

It was the little one that noticed it.

Billy had been trying to yell at him to get back inside, to keep himself out of harm’s way.

They had killed six demogorgons, and more were certainly coming.

The trees in the forest were rustling in a way they never did on their own.

The little one was pointing frantically, his eyes wide and scared.

Billy turned, and his blood ran cold.

Something was moving in the pool.

It was making the thick non-water slosh around dangerously, the dark liquid lapping over the sides and staining the concrete.

There were vines crisscrossing over the surface of the liquid, and Billy approached it carefully, hoping whatever was coming out would be trapped underneath them.

“This is the last fucking thing we need,” Hopper gritted out, cocking his rifle and aiming at the sludge.

And then Billy’s head felt like it had been cracked open.

He was blinded with pain and rage and

Help me, Hargrove!

He started swinging his ax wildly at the vines. Trying to break them apart enough for a body to fit through.

His heart thundered in his chest, and he dropped to his knees, ripping at the slimy black tendrils.

He shoved his left arm in.

It was like dousing his arm in ice. Like the liquid was made from the purest essence of cold.

He searched frantically with his hand, finding something solid and yanking with all his strength.

He had to put both arms in, grabbing hold of whatever he could, using his body weight as leverage to extract Steve from the cold.

He was limp when Billy finally got him out, but breathing heavily.

He opened his eyes, wiping his face free of the goop and blood covering him, and grinned at Billy.

“Told’ya we would get you out.”

They shepherd him inside, most of the gang speechless and struck dumb from the events of the past while.

Steve was given a change of almost clean clothes, and allowed to use some of their bottled water ration to clean the freezing black fluid from himself.

He wasted little time, and was down in the Upside Down version of his living room with everyone else.

“We can’t be long. El had to use a lot of strength to open it, but she’ll need her strength to close it, too.”

Nobody knew what in the fuck Steve was going on about.

Nobody but Hopper, that is.

He still had disgusting pool sludge all over his front from when he pulled Steve into a tight hug when he had gotten his bearings back from his journey through the rift.

“We can’t send people through that shit. It took all of Billy’s muscle to get you outta there.”

“So we drain it,” Steve insisted. “My parents drain it sometimes, I know how to do it.”

“I’ll keep watch. Make sure nothing tries to make itself known.”

Billy had barely wiped himself off.

He didn’t care anymore about how freezing that shit was, he just wanted to surge forward, and get back the fuck home.

Hopper studied them both.

“Bring weapons. Yell if you need help.”

Billy nodded once, and turned on his heel, following Steve out the back door.

Steve led him to a wooden shed on the side of the house. Billy had to clear the vines away from it before Steve could pry open the doors.

It was full of pool equipment, and it didn’t take long for Steve to locate a large grubby pump. He knocked it against the wall of the shed until the filter attachment clattered off, leaving bigger openings for the sludge to, hopefully, run through.

“Shit. This thing is electric. You got electricity?”

It was the first time Steve had really gotten a good look at Steve since being in the Upside Down.

He looked exactly as he had in the void place. His hair had a lot more disgusting black fluid in it, and he overall looked kinda shitty with the flecks of grime and blood on his face, but he looked bright. Alive. Strong.

“How did you do it? Take me to that place. Figure out we were here.”

Steve flushed. Billy had become overly aware that his face was completely covered under his bandana. Steve should cover his face.

He drew another one of his back pocket, and, he didn’t know why, but he tied it around Steve’s face.

Seriously, he could’ve just handed it to the guy and called it good there. But no. He had to set his ax on the ground, propped against his leg, wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, and tie the bandana like this was some intricate ritual.

All while Steve just stared at him with those fuckin’ eyes of his.

“It’s a long story.” Billy could barely hear Steve speak through the dirty cloth now covering his mouth and nose. “I’ll tell you when we’re back. When we’re safe.”

“I’m holding you to that, Harrington. Can’t have a guy poking around my dreams and shouting in my head without knowing his intentions.”

It was as close to flirting as Billy dared right now.

Right before they tried to journey between worlds.

“Good to know you heard me. I was trying to give you something of a pep talk.”

“Well, it worked. I would’ve just put my arms out and let those things rip me to shreds if I hadn’t have known.”

Billy didn’t know what Steve’s face was doing behind the cloth, but his eyes dropped, and Billy imagined that little cinch of his mouth that he had noticed Steve doing so much in that void place.

Billy meant it as a joke.

He really did.

And the Billy that was torn to bits in the mall wasn’t this Billy. Wasn’t the real Billy that was made out of real Billy materials and real Billy personality.

But it still made Steve feel queasy, thinking about his arms spread wide, black goop pouring out of his mouth and nose as the Mind Flayer decimated him.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, Billy. Just, not now.”

And Steve turned off, hauling the pump back to the pool and taking calming breaths.

The pump sank without much effort, like there was some kind of gravitational pull at the bottom of the pool.

Steve had connected the thickest hose he could find, adn sent Billy off with the extension cord to find an outlet that didn’t spark and threaten fire.

Before no time, the pump was humming, and pushing black slime through the hose and onto the dead grass.

They didn’t need to get it all out, just as much as they could shove everyone through.

Steve closed his eyes, trying to reach El like he had Billy.

We had a hold up. Shouldn’t be long.

He could feel her on the other side.

She promised she would stay close enough to the rift that Steve could get in touch with her.

He could feel something slither down his spine, a wordless confirmation from her.

The liquid in the pool was slowly edging down, leaving a stain on the once-white walls of the pool.

“Gather everyone up. Tell ‘em to meet out here. Tell ‘em to leave it all behind.”

Billy was still staring at the edge of the forest when he commanded Steve.

It was odd, being in his house that’s not his house.

Everything was so. Wrong.

From the way the house seemed to be crumbling down, reduced to its studs in some areas, to the way it was still clearly his house. Paintings his father had bought. Elegant furniture his mother selected.

It was all there. Just under a thick layer of dirt and nightmares.

He thought idly about his bedroom, wondering if it would look like it did on his end. A little messy, the sheets typically rumpled and unmade.

He resisted the urge to wander upstairs, reminding himself he was on a mission.

“It’s time. Don’t bring anything. It’ll probably be ruined along the way.”

Everyone looked grave. Steve tried to smile at them, tried to push through some calmness to them all. He had forgotten Billy’s bandana was tied around his face. He sent one last wave of quiet confidence around the room, and led the group through the kitchen.

They had barely rounded the corner of the kitchen island when they heard a strangled yell from outside.

Steve put his head down, and sprinted through the shattered glass doors, skidding to a halt in the threshold.

Billy was staggering backward, his ax forgotten on the ground and his left hand was clinging wildly to his right shoulder.

His jacket was in tatters, thick blood dripping bright crimson down his arm, standing out like neon against the dark, dirty ground.

Steve didn’t feel himself moving forward. He didn’t feel his hands raising in front of him.

He just felt anger. The same anger from before that had ripped through him like a raging forest fire and straight into El.

The thing shrieked.

It backed away from Billy, twisting and writhing as its horrible screams filled the air, making the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stand on end.

Fierce fury was exploding out of him, and he grit his teeth against the pounding in his head.

“You don’t get to hurt him,” Steve barely barked out.

All went still, and the demogorgon snapped into pieces.

Steve felt like he could pass out where he stood.

He had never felt so wrung dry.

His vision was waning at the edges, and he felt an arm around his waist, coaxing him toward the red light now barely shining through a thin layer of slime in the pool.

“Hold your breath, Pretty Boy.”

Steve was limp against him, and Billy was doing his best to ignore the searing pain in his right shoulder as he held Steve close to his side. He had fumbled off both of their face coverings, moving clumsily through the pain of his injury.

He took one last breath, and jumped into the rip between worlds.

He plunged into the water, the crystal blue of a chlorinated pool.

It was the best feeling in the world.

Being covered and surrounded by clean. The heated water doing more to soothe Billy’s frayed nerves than anything in his life.

He kicked hard, swimming one-armed to the surface, Harrington a dead weight in his injured arm.

His head broke the water, and he took in deep lungfuls of clean, crisp air.

Someone was tugging at Steve, and Billy, for the first time in his fucking life, was glad to see those kids Max was constantly hanging around.

A woman Billy didn’t know was fawning over Steve, feeling for a pulse, and looking relieved when she felt his hot breath against her palm.

“There’s more coming,” Billy coughed.

He barely managed to get the words out, dripping muck and grime on the cement by the pool, when it felt as though he was hit from the side by a speeding train.

He buried his nose in bright orange hair, hugging Max back as tightly as he could manage.

He was exhausted, and feeling her there, alive and okay, was all that was keeping him standing.

“I thought, I mean, we all thought you were dead. We saw it. That thing killed you .” Billy realized, with a whole lotta horror, that she was crying. Sobbing outright into his dirty chest.

“Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” How could they have seen when that monster just came at him?

“Oh, you’re bleeding.”

And if she only just realized he was hurt?

Max frog-marched Billy inside, to a very pale-looking Nancy Wheeler, sitting ready with a first aid kit.

Billy had to peel his clothes off his body, the fabric stuck to him like a second skin.

Nobody was speaking, and more of the people locked in the other place came traipsing into the room, fluffy towels wrapped around their shoulders.

Hopper was the last to come in, holding the woman tight to his side underneath the striped pool towel.

“Steve and El are closing it back up.”

There was a quiet murmur around the room.

Nancy patched up Billy’s shoulder, Max still stuck to his side like glue, the little boy from camp pasted to his other side.

He had no idea how much time had past when Steve finally came traipsing into the room with Max’s little friend, both of them sporting matching bloody noses.

Steve looked like shit.

His face was covered in blood, old and new, and he still had some of the gross not-liquid in his hair from the Upside Down.

But Billy doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see someone in his life.

“I’m sure everyone has questions,” said the woman tucked against Hop’s side. El, Billy assumes, had taken her place on Hop’s other side, wrapping the towel around her shoulders as well.

The woman launched into a story that made Billy feel like his brain was oozing out of his ears.

A monster. One they had all met before. Playing body snatcher in their sleepy little town.

Apparently, one had been wearing a Billy meat-suit and wreaking havoc around town, which made Billy wanna throw up until he died.

Which, not-Billy, had died. Fuckin’ brutally. And in front of everyone. Which sure as shit explained why Max wouldn’t let go of his sweaty hand.

The story made Billy queasy, and he took to studying everyone in the room instead.

All the kids were there, even the one that had been following Steve around like a little shadow, but they were all glaring in the very much opposite direction of Steve.

Steve himself was pressed almost against the wall, looking like he’d collapse if the wall weren’t supporting him.

“What’s up with the cold shoulder?” Billy muttered to Max.

“They’re mad at Steve right now. He’s been lying to us all.”

It was all he got out of her before everyone started moving around.

The woman, Joyce Byers, he’s learned, had finished her story, and the group from the Upside Down had begun clamoring for rides home, or maybe something to eat.

Billy just saw Steve manage to slip away before he followed him.

It took some doing, shaking off the little one, who still wasn’t speaking, and looked ready to burst into tears when Billy told him to stay behind in the living room.

But Janet Holloway took the kid’s other hand and gently led him back into the living room.

Billy nodded at her, and sped up the stairs.

It was weird, being in Harrington’s actual room.

It was messy, and looked like Steve spent most of his time here tossing clothes on the ground or twisting up in his bed covers like a tornado.

But it was oddly comforting.

Being in Steve’s real room, and not some perverse dirty copy.

Steve was standing, facing the bed, peeling his borrowed jacket from his shoulders and leaving it there on the floor.

“I never said thank you.”

Steve startled at Billy’s voice.

“Yeah. No problem.” Steve’s tone was light and airy, but Billy heard him sniff.

“Max said the little shitbirds are mad at you. Something about you lying.”

Steve turned around, giving Bily a watery smile.

“It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

So Steve told him.

About the lab.

About the experiments.

About the torture.

He explained that he had rules. Never making anyone feel something they already didn’t. Never altering someone’s opinion of, or feelings towards him.

Billy grit his teeth as he imagined Wheeler giving Steve a hard time about that.

Steve was silent for a moment, not looking at Billy.

“It’s okay if you hate me. I mean, everyone does now.”

“You'd be able to feel if I hated you. You and those powers of yours just saved my life, Pretty Boy. I’m pretty sure I’m feeling the farthest thing from hatred just about now.”

It was as close to a confession as Billy would let himself get.

But if Steve knows what he’s feeling at any given moment, then that means that he knows, and he didn’t-

“Quit it. Insecurity isn’t a good look on you.”

Steve sounded tired, and he flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms out.

At first, it didn’t sit quite right with Billy.

He had barely even begun to identify what he was feeling when Steve swooped in and just point blank told him what the emotion was.

Billy spent nearly all of his time being a big fuckin’ facade.

He tried his very best to hide any emotional tell from anyone around him.

He prided himself on being a chameleon. That nobody would ever truly know how he felt in any given situation.

And here’s pretty boy Steve Harrington. Who is feeling just as, if not more, strongly as Billy is.

But, it takes out all the parts of emotions that Billy hates dealing with.

Showing them. Talking about them.

He’d never once had to grapple with the words to explain how he feels to Steve.

Steve would just.

He’d know.

And god, that’s kind of a nice idea.

Billy sat down gently on the bed.

“Alright.”

Steve’s head popped up to stare incredulously at Billy.

Billy just grinned at him.

#this fic is named after kind of a throwaway line in rocky horror but thats my favorite movie and i thought it fits :)#i worked so hard on this and i'm really proud pls like it i'm begging #yikes writes #yikes gets pathetic in the notes #harringrove #harringrove big bang #harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrovebigbang2021 #harringrovebigbang #also look at me writing something in-universe for fucking once #steve harrington #billy hargrove #powers!steve #experiment!steve #i hate using the ! like that but whatever

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booksweet · 3 years

Note

Could I request a Gojo fic/drabble/whatever based around Halsey’s song Colors?? I feel like it fits Gojo perfectly. Angsty. Fluffy. Whatever you’re feeling.

Hollow Purple

starring: sorcerer!Gojo x human!reader

synopsis: there was happiness when blue and red met, but they didn't know grey would claim their place in between them.

contents/warnings: ANGST, SFW, slightly mention of blood, trauma, violence (if I miss something, please warn me), both reader and Gojo are 18+

WC: + 2k

A/N: hello, anon! I swear to god I tried to make it a fluff, but I coulnd't, it screamed angst on my mind. This request reminded me I'm into writing pain stuff like my heart was broken a thousand times, and I wish I could say sorry for the pain, but I'm NOT hahaha no regrets. Enjoy!

tags @noritoshiikamo

main navi | masterlist

You were gone. You were gone and destroyed every piece of him, every inch of him were carved by you.

He knew by the first time he saw you that you'd have so much power over him, you could end him without even using words.

And that's what happened.

You with your beautiful eyes, and beautiful red dress. You broke him.

His blue eyes now devoid of bright, of color.

But he knew it was his fault.

His fault to insist bringing you to his world while you should've had stayed in yours, oblivion to everything related to jujutsu. Yet, he couldn't regret it. He would never regret meeting you, and being with you this whole time until you got apart.

There he was, above the skies, searching for cursed spirits who ran away from him, their fear reasoned since he was the strongest above all. He couldn't care less about their feelings. Within the curtain, without non-jujutsu sorceres, he just wanted to finish that spirits as fast as he could to call his day off and eat some sweets.

"Guess I'll have to go a little rough now, uh?" With a movement of his hands, he felt his cursed energy shaking inside him like an ocean of power, such powers had he overwhelmed by years until he could plenty control them.

But suddenly he felt another presence, aside cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers, he felt a human presence. With a frown of his browns, he took off his blindfolds, revealing beautiful blue eyes, in order to find out who or what was that feeling. His flowing energy all at once disrupted.

And then, he found you. He found you walking calmly through the lonely streets wearing a red dress he could never forget. "What an interesting..." He muttered checking out if you were truly human, six-eyes working hard to find it and, when he was certainly of it, his interest on you just grew even harder.

You were about to cross an alley between two buildings and he took the chance to teleport there by connecting his hands. You took a few steps and stopped to admire some store's window and he couldn't help but wonder how you were still there in that chaotic place so relaxed and withou fear.

"Who are you?" He came closer to you and you stepped back with surprise, staring at that tall white-haired man with suspicious eyes and a smirk on his lips.

"Who's wanna know?" Your hands ready to punch his face if he dared to try something on you. His growing interest reached alarming levels as his heart bumped hard on his chest.

"I'm Gojo Satoru," He said without approaching you, and with a bow, he added. "The strongest above all. At your service."

"The strongest?" You said while lifting your chin up to him in defiance. "Oddly of you to say that, isn't?"

And he at that right moment, he knew he was lost. He was lost to you.

- x -

He was supposed to protect you, he was supposed to take care of you ever since you met. Instead, he brought you danger, he brought you pain, he brought you despair.

What's the point of being blessed with six-eyes if he couldn't protect the only one he cared the most?

Not a bless, but a curse. A sin held upon his shoulders. A burden so heavy he couldn't breath.

A sin so harmful that had stained you. Your naive soul. Innocent. Heavenly.

And he missed you. He missed your red lips. You red clothes. He missed how your smile seemed to warm him just like the red sunset you two watched once. His blue eyes missed staring at your for hours, drowning in yours.

Blue and red.

Red and blue.

Two parts independent from each other, yet they floated against them, their souls wiling to be one.

Convergence and divergence.

Divergence and convergence.

And when both opposites reunite...

The second time you met, Gojo wasn't on a mission and you weren't in danger at all. You had an average day and stopped by a coffee shop to drink some hot coffee, eat your favorite sweet and maybe read your favorite book just to get away from craziness of your life, you wanted to relax. You were at your favorite table, alone, and the costumers were passing around you and you weren't giving them attention when the doorbell left out a "ring!".

He couldn't help but desire some sweets, it was his nature as sweet-eater. He knew he would bring attention to him, he was tall, handsome as hell and was wearing a blindfold, of course everyone would've looked at him.

But you hadn't looked at him. You didn't even take your eyes out of the pages to check what happend at the cafe. Nevertheless, once again you caught his attention and he recognized you from your first meeting. "What do we have here?" He muttered with a glimpse of a smile on the corner of his lips.

He ordered a chocolate cake and signed the waiter to take it to your table. Meanwhile, he moved his long legs on tour way, like you were a force bringing him closer and closer each step. He moved the chair loudly and had his seat in front of you. "Hello, Y/N! Long time no see, ugh?"

Surprised by his suddenly entrance, you put your book down and looked straight at him. That weird man you met months ago, still you felt different about him. "Long time no see, strongest above all" you replied playfully. "What bring your majesty up here?"

— x —

When you third met, it was your first date. That turned into a second, and then a third, a fourth... And suddenly you were about all his life, above your weird friendship. All at once you became the one he needed the most to feel himself.

Yet he chose not to tell you about jujutsu. He chose not to tell you about his powers. About why he couldn't stay a little longer with you at your place. About where he would've been travel out of city for weeks without giving any news if he was okay.

He dissapeared for weeks in a roll. And you worried about him. About his blue eyes. You worried about never going to see him again, even though you didn't figure out what you feared at all.

Once, he came back of one of those long trips, after several weeks of nothing about him, but what he gave you to remind of him — his shirt, a photograph of you two, one of his blindfolds.

And you couldn't help but cry while kissing him. You couldn't help but to say you loved him you never wanted for him to disappear. And he would retrieve, he would say he loved you so hard you had him in your hands. He was yours to be loved, to be destroyed.

The strongest on his knees at a human's mercy.

Had never his eyes sight such a colorful being, such a colorful existence. He was at your mercy, his existence, his entire being was yours to paint, to stain, to rip him apart if you wanted.

And then, when you two lay down together, messy sheets and pillows. Blue and red met once again, but not apart, they were together. That time blue and red turned into a beautiful tone of purple.

— x —

Someday you would find out, he knew it. Yet, he still longed for time to be with you, time to be himself without necessarily being the strongest, the head of his clan, the balance between cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers.

But he knew he had no time, you had no time with him. There wasn't enough time with jujutsu and curses. They would've come for you by anytime.

He masked his worries from you. He always seemed so happy in his nonchalant and playful way. Always trying to annoy you and make you laugh everytime you spent together.

You mocked the "strongest above all" out of him every opportunity you had. And this had him caring about you more and more.

But then it wasn't a joke anymore.

Jujutsu were real.

Cursed spirits were real.

And you were just a human.

Alone.

Blood. Red. Everything is red. Everything is blood. Pain. You were in pain screaming. You couldn't see what hurt you, but that ominous feeling was still there in your place. "What happened? What happened? Who are you? Who are you?" You couldn't help keep muttering it like a prayer, thinking of Gojo who was to come by and see your hurt state.

But Gojo Satoru felt the overflowed cursed energy arisen from your place. His bare eyes naked with worry and, for the first time, fear. And then he broke. Every piece of him.

He found you on the floor, muttering non-sense words — including his name in your dizzy state — blood running over you limbs, torso and head. A cut on your beautiful face. And above you, at the ceiling, that goddamn cursed spirit laughing out loud mocking you. Mocking your pain. Your despair.

He ran out of control. He released this powers untamed, uncontrolled. In a blink of an eye he exorcised that cursed spirit from existence. He was furious, feral. He could bring fire to the world if it means to keep you safe, to keep you alive. "Y/N?" He came closer to you, checking out your pulse as his hand held your wrist. It was so weak his heart almost stopped. "Don't leave me, please. You don't deserve to die."

— x —

When everything fell apart, he took you to Shoko at Jujutsu High nursery. She healed your physical wounds in silence while he stayed by your side. You kept unconscious the process, sometimes mumbling while your expression turned into a painful one.

When you woke up at his place, you said nothing. Nothing came out from your mouth, even though he tried to make you speak. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks. You could hear him say "Love, love, love, please, talk to me" in a desperate broken tone.

Yet you couldn't say a thing.

When purple turned into grey, everything faded away. Everything blurred.

Happiness overpowered by despair and pain. You were broken such as the beautiful thing you two had.

"Y/N, please, please, I'm begging," Once more his voice muffled on your ears. Why they hold such pain? "I'm on my knees, Y/N, please, come back, come back to me."

He told you the truth about him so many times expecting some reaction, something from you. Yet he received anything at all. You were numb to reality, there was nothing he could do about that.

But one day, after weeks and weeks of him trying to call you back, you spoke for the first time. Pale eyes meeting him lifeless. And he felt his world falling apart again. "I want to go" You whispered and he widened his pretty eyes full of tears.

"What, Y/N?"

"I want to leave. I wanto to go away from here. Take me out, take me out, take me out..." You kept saying repeatdly, each time a knife stabbing his heart.

"Y/N, love..." He tried to touch your hair, but you moved away from him.

"No, no," You muttered afraid. "It's your fault. The monsters. The blood. The pain..." You shrunk yourself in your bed, crying. "The nightmares. It's your fault." Your crying getting louder and louder. "I wish I could forget you."

"Y/N, I-I," He struggled his words, afraid and crying. "You know I can protect you, you know I will."

Your voice cold in his ears aside your tears. "No, you can't."

— x —

Blue bright eyes once, but not anymore. Not when the reason they shone for now It's gone. When you've chosen to forget him since your accident.

That was what you asked, to forget. To forget the pain, the blood the nightmares, him...

It was quite easy to manipulate your memories, cursed energy manipulation and then it's done. Not that it means it did not hurt him, but it had to be done.

When light came back to your eyes, Gojo's bright faded away.

When you smiled red, blue was not his color anymore.

When your life was colorful, his was grey and devoid of any color.

Red and blue turned into purple. His heart was craved by yours, when you were together.

Purple danced in front of his eyes as his memories overflowed his mind. Blue eyes crying because of red.

Blue eyes seeing grey because now red is gone forever and blue is alone.

#sofi is writing — jjks #jjk gojo #gojo satoru jjk #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo angst #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru jujutsu kaisen #gojo jjk #gojo satoru angst

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juleswolverton-hyde · 3 years

Text

Not by the Moon | 08

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, eating disorder (personal experience, don’t be a bloody twat), heavy(?) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom trying to be a normal boyfriend

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV.

I am seeing a trend starting to develop where every chapter turns into a behemoth that makes me not want to edit it at all. Nevertheless, I pulled through on this one despite being in the middle of a 32-hour work week and being absolutely exhausted.

Summer holidays, you said? I only see extra shifts and little me-time nor writing time and inspiration. That said, though, be prepared for some heavy worldbuilding because the plot thickens.

Also, and this has been edited in the previous chapter, a new special someone makes his debut in this chapter. Is this also a hint about whose story is next?

Who knows?

I don’t know.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

“Jaebeom? Jay!” I nudge the big man’s shoulder to signal for him to step aside so I can turn the stove off before the burned pancake catches fire. “That’s the third one in a row.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly. “I- I have a... I can’t focus.”

“Is it because of this morning?” If so, then that makes two of us. However, I tried to forget as best I could by working with timed productivity sprints instead of writing the article on Bruges in one go. It worked fairly well until lunch time came around.

That’s when I, too, couldn’t escape the claw mark.

The image of it flashes before my eyes once more, joining my thoughts with his if his blank look is anything to go by.

How did it get there? What did you do?

“Yeah. Morning. I... I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, this should be a nice evening. A cozy night in. You deserve my attention, for me to,” his breath tapers as he finishes the sentence, “be here.”

The quiver in his lips makes the roof of my mouth dry up and my mind empty save for gut-stirring concern, unable to think of a proper response. Nevertheless, I look for words to say what seems best. Like I did this morning when I went to get his medication. “How about I take it from here and bake the pancakes? You already made the batter and I can’t let you do all the work.”

“I like cooking for you.”

“I know you do, but it’s fine. Really,” I gesture at the couch by the living room window, which provides a glimpse of the small balcony, “sit down. I’ll call you once dinner’s ready.”

“Y/N,” he reaches out for my hand yet only dares to hold my fingertips, “I’m sorry I can’t be more.”

The crack in his voice breaks my heart. But its the vulnerability written across his normally stoic face which tears me apart at the seams. Whatever he means, it’s nothing to do with this morning. Rather, it’s about him as a person, the wonderful man he is.

Throat blocked by something I can’t swallow, I scan his attitude for any hint about what he truly means. “What’re you on about?”

Let’s just forget about it for a little while and be a normal couple. I promise I won’t run away despite what happened.

Unfortunately, Jaebeom dismisses the question to make a point I wish he didn’t. “We both know what’s ahead. But, sometimes it’s as if you’re avoiding the inevitable.”

I let out a deep sigh, caught red-handed. “I’m not, because I know or, rather, can guess where this is going. I just don’t know how to respond at times. And I don’t want you to feel bad so I try to keep the mood high as best I can. To, well, keep us both happy.”

“Is your avoidance of food also part of that?” he asks, carefully formulating the question while keeping a close eye on any change in my demeanour.

“Yes.”

“I hate it when you don’t eat.”

“I know, but if you knew the reasons behind it, you’d understand why it’s difficult for me. Although, I want you to know that I’m trying to keep my promise to you and eat when you tell me to.” I cup his cheek, lovingly swiping my thumb to and fro over the tanned skin. “It’s really hard to escape your determination. You’re very insistent on things.”

“Too much?” Eyes dim and glistening with withheld tears, he nuzzles my palm.

“Sometimes.” I kiss the tip of his nose and smile, a sign of happiness that’s only half a lie. “It doesn’t make me love you any less. Now, let me be a proper girlfriend and cook for you.”

Regardless of the wonderful sight of Jaebeom wearing an apron and being absorbed in his element in the kitchen, it’s equally as wonderful to have something to eat tonight. Secretly, I would rather have made a healthier and less calorie-rich dish, but we both need a bit of a reprieve from last night. Thus, for the sake of us both, I’ve decided to let go of my rules for a little while.

To enjoy something sweet.

As wholesome as the sight of the wolf man seated on the couch, knees pulled up with round gold-rimmed glasses balancing on the bridge of his nose as he reads the novel he apparently borrowed from my bookshelves. I should write a little note on the title page and give it to him as a present so he’ll have one of my books like I have his.

They’ll be on his shelves for as long as we’re here.

Be there even after he’s gone.

Then they will return to me yet still be his.

He will still be with me.

The pages filled with his love.

It’s everything that will be left of him.

His legacy.

His remains.

The thought leaving me filled with bittersweet affection, I cut the fruit to put on top of the pancakes while gradually using up all the batter. Were it not for the move to the cottage at the end of the month, I could easily be content here if he’d ask me to move in. Wherever we are, evenings like these might become a common occurrence, a splendid reward at the end of a long day at the office.

They could turn any place into our home.

The long road of the lone wolf would finally come to an end.

Because as long as he’s there, I’m home.

“Mind your head.” Despite the warning, Jaebeom nevertheless puts a hand on my head while he opens the cupboard above to grab two plates.

“I was just about to say dinner’s ready.” I let out a breathless laugh, hardly hiding the sobs at the thought of one day having to live without his touch. “Talk about timing.”

For a second, a curious expression treks across his face. It passes by too fast to properly describe it, but it seemed to be triggered by the meaningless remark about his return to the kitchen.

When a dangerously short and sharp breath escapes me, he swallows it with a kiss. Perhaps it’s the sorrow of knowing a storm lies on the horizon that makes me delusional, but a soft whine rises in his throat each time he kisses a stray tear away as he peppers my face in small pecks.

Satisfied he has taken the sadness more or less away, the corners of his mouth curl into a lop-sided smile as if nothing happened. Notwithstanding, it isn’t hard to figure the blissful ignorance is merely feigned. “Right. Timing.”

Our gazes lock and neither of us says a word until he perks up and motions for me to step back. “Fork and knife.”

Discombobulated by the shared confusion, I indeed set a step backwards so he can open the drawer. In the meanwhile, as Jay sets the dinnerware down, I put the final pancake on the stack and set it down in the middle of the table.

Chest puffed out, I clap my hands. “Dig in.”

Like yesterday, Jaebeom insists on doing the dishes while I settle down for the night. However, whereas I gladly did before, I now do with an uneasy mind. Arms wrapped around my knees, my thoughts run down a familiar dark path.

I ate too much. Maybe I should go home and do a workout. Then again, I really don’t want to even though I have to.

“Y/N?” The faint though surprising mention of my name breaks the imaginary stones weighing down my shoulders. I snap my head to the side, almost headbutting the wolf man who has appeared at my side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Lips pulled into a wistful smile, I scratch him under the chin in hopes of distracting him to the degree he won’t be able to ask further questions. “I’m tired, that's all.”

Unfortunately, Jaebeom is like a guardian who somehow notices a lot despite his absent-minded demeanour. Henceforth, the topic is all but abandoned.

Without warning, and as effortless as if he were picking up a book, he lifts me up from the couch to hold me in his arms. Instinctively, I clutch his loose black shirt to have a grip of something in case I fall. It’s an ungrounded fear since his arms are sturdy, but it’s comforting nonetheless to have something to hold on to.

My haphazard action elicits a low chuckle that makes my heart skip a beat, although it almost thumps out of my chest again as he rests his forehead against mine. “Let’s go to bed.”

“It’s only eight o’clock,” I sputter, chest tight and no breath sufficient enough to lift the sensation. “Besides, I- I don’t have any fresh change of clothes or toiletries or a pyjama.”

Did he turn the central heating up?

“Doesn’t matter. Can borrow. You. No, that’s not right. You… you can. You can borrow clothes from me. Also, I think I have a spare toothbrush somewhere around here.”

“Jay,’’ As best I can, I try to keep my tone steady though the words come out too fast and uneven regardless, ‘’I think I should go home.”

If I don’t and I won’t get in some more exercise, I’ll gain weight and slowly go back to how I was.

And I’ll lose him.

Back to square one.

Loveless.

Despite the effort, I can’t prevent the crack in my voice as I weakly tug at his shirt. ‘’Let me go.’’

“No.’’ The gentle kindness has malformed into rough sternness, translated in a sound similar to a growl. ‘’You need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” I retort, more ferocious and sharper than intended though the equal harshness might help to drive the point home.

For a split second, he snarls and bares his teeth. Simultaneously, a flicker of a second personality passes across his mismatched eyes.

The calm ocean warps into a watery grave with high waves on a stormy night.

The hazelnut cracks to set that which it contains free.

His lashes abruptly flutter shut, as he lets out a pained gasp. Beneath my fingertips, his chest caves as if an imaginary fist has dealt him a blow in the guts.

And in mine as well.

Rippling flesh.

There’s… there’s no… Jay, what is happening to you?

I hold on tighter to the fabric, hyperventilating while trying to refrain from bursting out in tears.

There has to be something I can do! But what? What do I do? How can I make this stop?

How do I get you back?

Withal, shivering lips parted to beg for guidance, are interrupted by a shake of the head hanging low. Slowly, Jaebeom looks up, a light layer of sweat on his skin. Our gazes lock, but whereas the wolf man’s was filled with savage chaos, it’s now returned to the stern tranquility it held before the attack. Nonetheless, an uncomprehending whimper betrays the fact that whatever happened wasn’t experienced consciously.

The rage was beyond him.

Outside him.

Another’s.

Still breathless, he scoffs, the sound gruff and overtly disagreeing. “Let’s watch the moon and stars.”

There is no chance to ask any questions about the swift changes in demeanour since he promptly moves to the hallway and up the stairs towards his bedroom. The bedframe of the two-person bed also functions as a bookshelf which takes up the entire right wall, the shelves stacked with second-hand paperbacks in various conditions. An empty picture frame is placed on his side of the bed, a pair of glasses next to it.

Jaebeom puts me down on the navy wool blanket on the edge of the bed and leans in to steal a kiss, which is easy to do considering I’m too shaken to offer any protest. Nor do I feel the comfort of his lips. “Take your clothes off. I’ll go find you pyjamas.”

A tad reluctant, mind occupied by guilt and terror, I start to undress as he rummages through the wardrobe on the other end of the room.

Left only in my underwear, I sit down on the edge of the bed. Although he’s seen me naked once, I still wrap my arms around myself to hide my body. A shield to protect a fragile ego housed in equally as vulnerable body flesh.

Afraid of what might happen when those ripples grow out of control.

Terrified of who he will become.

Of who he is.

“Don’t.” Jaebeom turns around with a black hoodie and grey sweatpants in his hands, eyebrows drawn together. He closes the drawer, throws the clothes on the bed, kneels, and firmly yet gently grabs my wrists to break the walls I put up. And I let him. “Don’t hide from me.”

Not understanding where the shame originates from, he grows still as he scrutinizes my face for clues. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Instead of giving an answer, I change into the makeshift pyjamas. The hoodie is oversized yet comfortably baggy while the sweatpants hang disconcertingly low on my hips. Fortunately, any skin it reveals is covered up by the top.

Continuing to avoid his gaze without saying a word, I crawl under the sheets. Face turned to the window, I pull up the blanket he drapes over me and bury my nose in it.

A wild forest and cologne with a musty hint of pages.

It’s undeniably him.

I don’t know what else to do or say. So, I let the silence speak for itself.

A language he is fluent in too despite his oftentimes loud demeanour.

The mattress dips under his weight when he lies down and rearranges the sheets to cover us both. An arm wrapped around my waist and legs tangled, Jaebeom pulls me flush against him, his chest warm against my back.

A sob rises in my throat when I feel his lips place a kiss on my crown with a sigh of contentment.

I don’t deserve this.

Us.

Him.

The fear of losing him to whatever is happening inside.

Then again, Life isn’t fair. It deals everyone the same awful hand and leaves it up to the player to make the best of it.

I guess we’re both dealt a crappier hand than others. That, or we play them wrong.

Can we win at all?

“Talk to me.” As loving and happy as the casual intimacy of the embrace is, as forgetful it could make me if only I’d manage to fall asleep, Jaebeom’s oddly sweet cooing keeps me awake.

Staring at the moon.

A woman as fickle as me.

And infinitely more beautiful.

Funny how I, too, am jealous of a celestial body.

In love with the heavens.

He continues when he notices I won’t be the one to break the silence, his intonation laced by a whiny undertone like a dog wanting something yet being denied what it wants. “You know what I’m dealing with. But...” he digs his fingers deeper into my hips, the grip iron-like without being painful, “I hope this is okay to ask, but what is it with you and food?”

The encouraging squeeze in my side almost has me bursting out in tears again. There has to be a price to pay somewhere in the shadows, the overwhelming sensation of being genuinely loved and protected must turn out to be as two-sided as the silver goddess in the sky. After all, Life is bittersweet.

“It’s only fair I tell you.” Especially after how open he’s been. Besides, there’s no opportunity to avoid the topic since we’d arrive at it sooner or later. And he deserves to know. In fact, I don’t want him to forget my brokenness the moment I tell him about it.

We both want each other to remember our own missing pieces.

So I sigh, turn over and bald my hands into fists to rest against the warm skin of his bare chest. As I speak up, I try to keep my voice as steady as possible. “I used to be quite a fat kid, to the degree the GP advised my parents to put me on a diet. Queue high school and social pressure which led me to perhaps work out more than is healthy and left me bordering on the edge of anorexia. There are still foods I won’t eat and days I’ll worry about my calorie intake, especially on the days I don’t work out.”

I can’t help the mirthless chuckle which turns into a rueful smile. “It’s the good old cliché. Just another soul broken for the shallow enjoyment and acceptance of others.”

Lips pulled into a stern line, the wolf man remains silent. Notwithstanding, his eyes speak volumes when I dare to look up at him, the ocean and hazelwood alight with a watery sheen. Perhaps it’s the comfort of his nearness or the familiarity of those one of a kind eyes, but he inspires a confession which I never thought I’d make. “Nevertheless, I’m getting better and it’s partially thanks to you.”

Morgan spamming me with ‘Have you eaten?’ texts and Bam making sure I finish my plate whenever we go out for food either here or abroad help a lot too. Nonetheless, it’s mostly the bookish wolf who makes me want to try.

And be a little better than before.

“What do they feel like, those days?”

“The bad ones?” Jaebeom nods. “They’re ridden with guilt and self-loathing.”

He leans in, leaving only a few centimetres of distance between our faces. His breath is warm on my skin as he bumps his nose against mine. “You’re feeling that way now.”

“I am.”

“Don’t.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re still you. Beautiful as always. And I’ll love you regardless of how you look. I like your mind, which is as weird as mine. The way you hold my hand, as if you’re afraid I’ll walk away. How you unconsciously squeeze it when you need my protection more. How you feel in my arms, soft and warm as a bunny.” He hooks his finger under my chin and tilts it upward to run his tongue over my lips and nose. “Love you. A lot.”

“I love you too.” I turn my head to nuzzle his palm, my face perfectly fitting into it.

Please, no ripples. Let us have this moment. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Let me have him, just him as he is. At least tonight.

The secure affection of the touch transforms into something else when he glides the back of his hand over my cheek and folds his fingers over my throat. Testing the waters, eyes boring into mine to stop at the slightest sign of discomfort, he slowly closes off my access to air.

It’s funny how the body and mind react to certain situations. Whereas I normally would flinch and run in the direction of safety, there is no urge to run. In fact, the tingling in my chest travels down to rekindle a familiar heat between my thighs while my adrenaline-infused system aches for the wolfish lover. Henceforth, instead of jumping up from the bed, I spread my legs so Jaebeom can comfortably nestle between them.

“Let me prove it. Let me mate you.” The calloused fingertip journeying across the collarbone to the crook of the neck sends a pleasant shiver down the spine. Another electric shock follows at the coarse prickly sensation of his moustache rubbing against my skin as his soft lips kisses and nips at it. “It will only sting a bit, I promise. Please, the mark will look pretty.”

“No biting, Jay.” Reminded of our agreement this morning and the movement beneath his skin when his emotions seem to get the better of him, I pull him against my chest. Before he can protest I scratch his jaw exactly in the way he likes it, thus subduing his great ability to argue. “Not today.”

“It’s not... hm, k- keep go- What do- Bit higher. There. Like, hm, mhm, there. But... what normal-’’ Arms wrapped around my waist again and letting out a content hum, dark lashes flutter shut. For a moment, it seems he’s fallen asleep. However, his drowsy murmurs, while growing incomprehensible, still haven’t finished. “It’s not what couples do.”

“You’re learning,” I giggle, amused by the remark which sounds like a student recalling a piece of knowledge during a test and repeating it for himself.

Without understanding the knowledge completely. “What do they do?”

Staring at the ceiling, I run my fingers through his long dark manes as I try to come up with ideas about what we can do next. “Well, you’ve already given me your clothes. We could try jewelry next, maybe a promise ring. It’s an old-fashioned idea, but people who are promised to each other wear matching rings.

‘’What mean? Promised?’’

I say nothing of the faulty grammar of his question. After all, speaking becomes harder once exhaustion overtakes the body and mind. I have yet to find a sleeper being able to form comprehensible sentences. ‘’They’re sort of similar to engagement rings, but without the immediate implication of getting married soon.”

“Let’s get en- enga- enge-’’ Jaebeom lets out a groan, frustrated by his lack of speech. Nevertheless, it doesn’t perturb him enough to completely give up on the effort to properly pronounce the word he’s struggling with. “En. Gage. Ment. Engagement rings instead.”

I let out a breathless chuckle, amused both by his determination and the absurd proposal. “It’s definitely too early for that.”

“It’s not!” He barks, shooting up with a pinched expression on his face.

Scratching him like before, I manage to calm him down enough to make him lie down on my chest again. Nonetheless, his discontent shines through in the gruff scoff he lets out. “It is.”

“What if...” Prompted by the idea in his mind, Jay scrambles upright to face me once more. Lips parted, the feral sharpness in his mismatched eyes is replaced by a twinkle of barely contained excitement. However, the enthusiasm dims with a shake of the head and a low self-deprecating chuckle that ignites my curiosity. At the same time, it also tugs at the strings of my heart. “No, it’s wrong of me to ask.”

“What is?”

What were you about to say? Don’t keep it to yourself. Tell me!

“Never mind.” He lies down again, nuzzling my breasts as he snuggles up into me.

Then, he slips his hand under mine to lift and compare it to his. “Cute paw.”

Fine. Keep your secrets, you big burly bastard.

“Go to sleep.” I push him off of me, earning myself a disappointed noise which resembles a yelp. “On the other side of the bed, please and thank you.”

In the days that follow, the movement like water set astir under his skin continues to haunt my mind. In fact, it does to the extent that even the keys beneath my fingers seem to flow rather than be pushed down, causing me to flinch for the third time in a row.

For the past hour I’ve been trying to type out the notes on an interview with a chocolatier in Bruges and compose them into a coherent article. An otherwise simple task my mind won’t allow me to complete despite the attempts to remember the good moments we had recently. The video calls right before bed, the cuddle session a few days ago when we gazed at the moon, his enthusiastic texts about and photos of new recipes Jaebeom tried. None of it prevents the likely imagined terrible from destroying our happiness.

I’m going insane. He’s a normal person. Somewhat. I was jet-lagged and therefore not thinking clearly.

That’s why I thought I felt his skin move. I was delusional.

Drunk on him.

A buzz pulls me out of my reverie, the screen of my phone lighting up with a message.

Morgan: Starving! Found a new café thanks to a friend.

Y/N: Let me guess. I have no choice but to come along.

Morgan: There wasn’t a choice to begin with :)

Y/N: Of course not. What am I talking about, eh? See you in five.

Chuckling at the woman’s classic brashness, I shake my head, pack my belongings and head to the elevators.

Outside, regardless of the November chill, it’s pleasant. The sun shines brightly and the wind blows the little bundles of fallen leaves at the roots of the birch trees lining the street into motion, scattering them over the neatly swept pavement.

Winter is around the corner. God, I hate the cold. Hopefully, there won’t be snow any time soon.

I sit down on the bench under one of the birch trees, its branches already bare.

Autumn is truly ending now. Shame. I haven’t even had a pumpkin spice latte and cinnamon roll yet. Maybe I should ask Jay out and find a nice coffee shop where we can get them. After all, if he’s there, we can share the pastry. He’ll be happy and I won’t have to eat the whole thing. A win-win situation.

Enjoying watching the people pass by, each stranger essentially a book with a unique story that is yet not entirely different from someone else’s. Withal, the world feels colder without him, the missing part embodied in the unoccupied spot next to mine.

A delighted sigh on the right makes me snap my head around, alarmed at the notion someone has appeared out of the blue on the empty seat.

A woman clad in a white suit and matching fur-lined coat with pale skin and brown hair glowing copper in direct light stares contentedly up at the clouds. She’s in her very early twenties, although the freckles dusting her cheekbones and rosy cheeks might simply make her look younger than she is.

For a moment, taken aback and speechless, I cannot help but blatantly gape at the otherworldly stranger.

Wow, she’s like a goddess.

A stone sinks to the bottom of my stomach as a dark thought intrudes my mind. My throat dried up, I twist my wrists, the muscles stiff beneath my fingers.

Would Jaebeom like her? If he saw her on the street, would he... would he stop and stare? Prefer her over me or even try and give it a shot by introducing himself?

“It’s a bit chillier than I’d like, but at least it’s better than rain or snow.” The woman turns to face me, her features soft. “I hope spring will come again soon, though.”

I don’t get the chance to respond because a familiar voice calls out. Not that I would be able to form a proper reply otherwise. “You’re here already?”

“I happened to be nearby,” the stranger turns away to answer as Morgan comes to a halt in front of us, a puzzled expression on her face.

“I texted you fifteen minutes ago and you said you had to clean up. I thought you’d join us later.”

“The birth and after birth went faster than I thought so here I am.”

“I’m sorry, but what is going on?” More than a little lost, I look from one to the other in hopes of being given an explanation. “I didn’t know we’d head out with the three of us.”

“Right, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Brigid.” The dark-haired woman holds out her pale hand in greeting. “I work at the hospital as an obstetrician.”

“I’m Y/N,’’ I reply, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Lass,” wonder turned to a darker version of itself yet not saying anything, Morgan shifts her attention to me, “you look famished. Come on, let’s go.”

Offering a few muttered words of agreement, I get up and sheepishly tag along with the other women. As we walk out the street and round a corner, following the signs leading to the artist district nearby the university, I’m occasionally tempted to join the conversation. However, as soon as a short silence falls, I don’t chip in, unsure how to contribute to the small talk they seem to deliberately keep up in order to avoid a topic neither is keen to discuss. Thus I walk in urban loneliness, my train of thought displaced on my face as I let the ghosts of Jaebeom’s skin freely haunt my mind.

Right before the descent into the darkness of the rabbit hole, strong long fingers wrap around my wrist and hold it in an iron grip. The slightly painful squeeze interrupts my reverie.

Jaebeom?

I snap my head to the side to find Morgan standing there, leaning in a bit and her voice low. “We’re here.”

I don’t know how I’ve managed to ignore the bustle of students looking for a free spot on one of the terraces and loud conversations accompanied by the rustle of the paper bags hailing from the shops owned by self-employed artists. It’s also miraculous that I haven’t bumped into anyone by accident.

“Oh,” is all I say, looking at the café we’ve stopped in front of.

Wolf’s is spelled out in a modern font on the sign outside and above the door. A big window provides visitors with a view of the plaza. The interior is simple yet cosy, the white furniture warmed up by oak accents and the bare walls decorated with various art pieces, centered around wolves and various flowers. By the looks of it, they were all made by a single artist who likes to experiment with style every now and then. A few plants are dotted around the place as well to add a hint of free nature to the underlying strangely forest-like aesthetic.

A tall broad-shouldered man with short curly chocolate brown hair partially covering up the scar running over his left eye, strong dark eyebrows and a big koala-like nose stands behind the counter. Both of his arms and hands are decorated with various intricately designed tattoos. Whereas Jay is muscled yet lean, the tanned barista looks like a man who knows how to fight yet is a warrior in a society without combat.

As soon as we walk in, his lifts his head and turns to us. Playful lights illuminate the milky white of his left and raven dark of his right eye. A meadow of snow, its glimmer reflecting off of the smooth feathers of a wise bird. “Hi, welcome. Brigid, long time no see.”

Nobody seems to notice it, but his female colleague, a short woman with long flowy caramel brown hair tied into a ponytail who has her back turned to us and is busy extracting a shot, cringes at the merry mention of the woman’s name. Slowly, she steals a glance at us, hazel eyes sharpening when they fall on the woman in white. Nevertheless, she remains silent and quickly returns her attention to preparing someone’s coffee.

Looks like I’m not the only one envying her.

It is wrong to hate a woman for her beauty. Nonetheless, although it’s shameful, part of me refuses to associate with Morgan’s acquaintance out of a toxic mixture of spite and jealousy.

Such is the female nightmare.

“So this is what you’ve been up to,” Brigid muses, nodding appreciatively while inspecting the coffee shop. “You’ve got a nice thing going on here, Rome.”

“Please don’t call me that anymore. It’s Christian now. Chris or Ian for short.’’ Muscled arms crossed, he grimaces and shakes his head while looking down. Notwithstanding, the stern attitude melts into casual friendliness as a bright smile forms on his lips. ‘’But I do, don’t I? However, it’s not just me running the place. I’ve had some help.”

He turns around and motions for his colleague to come over. For a second she doesn’t move, darting glances to each of us like an alarmed cat checking for danger. Notwithstanding, though clearly tense, she warily approaches and halts at the man’s side.

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when Christian places a hand on her shoulder. “In fact, Gráinne here still helps me out every day. She’s basically the second owner.”

“I- I’m not,” she sputters in a soft Ulster accent, fumbling with her fingers and her cheeks flushed, “I just work here some days.”

“You’re a bit more than a colleague,” her co-worker remarks, shoulders lowered and his tone holding more affection than would be the case when talking to a friend. A warm glow seems to form around him, ignited by the fondness he harbours for her.

Funny, Jaebeom wears that same expression when he’s with me.

“I’m not.” Gráinne stiffens, each word dripping with venom as she steps away, grabs a serving tray and puts the order she was preparing before being called over on it. “Get back to work.”

Lips parted, Ian watches her as she moves past us as fast and agile like a hunting cat without any further acknowledgement of our presence. I hadn’t noticed before, but beneath her apron, she is dressed in clothes reminiscent of the Victorian era. “I know she can be harsh and isn’t easy to get along with, but I’ve never seen her act like this.”

“Och, let it pass. She has every right to be pissed with you since you put her on the spot like that,” Morgan jokes though nobody goes along with it.

She likes him yet doesn’t see it’s mutual. Should I say something? Then again, this is their business, not mine. Furthermore, why would they believe me, a stranger?

So I remain silent.

And leave this to blossom however it is meant to in Fate’s hands.

The icy glare Gráinne gives Brigid behind her back sends a chill down my spine. Evidently, she is a woman not cross paths with once angered. Withal, as the fair beauty looks over her shoulder, the other woman restores her professional composure.

“You okay?” Christian asks as he watches her retreat into the kitchen, done serving for now.

“I’m fine,” she says thickly, the next breath hitching in her throat. Her focus shifts to the moon-shaped amethyst pendant around his neck. The ghost of a rueful smile forms on her lips, but it fades as fast as it appeared. “It’s not like I’m having a vision or something. Help them.”

She waves her hand dismissively when he doesn’t move, lips parted to say something yet at a loss for words. Notwithstanding, although I can’t see his expression clearly, it’s evident her feigned nonchalance is hurting him. “Go on.”

He clears his throat and forces himself into a rigid posture, frowning as he shifts his attention back to us. Finger hovering over the tablet functioning as a till, he stares at the display with an empty and distant gaze, which is as dull as the tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. “What can I get you?”

We place our order and settle down at the table by the window, neither of us offering a word of solace or dedicated to his colleague’s behaviour.

After a while, Christian comes up to us to serve the food and beverages. As he puts the plates with our sandwiches down, he and Brigid exchange looks like siblings telepathically conversing. Whatever it is they mentally discussed, it only leaves the barista a slight bit less worried though the grave expression plaguing him remains as he returns to the counter.

An expression which must be similar to mine since it prompts Morgan to speak up regardless of having her teeth sunk into sourdough bread, looking equally as somber. “What’s on your mind, lass?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head and stir my cappuccino with the vintage silver spoon next to the porcelain cup, smiling at my own silly assumptions of what happened now four days ago. “Everything’s fine.”

“Except it’s not.” The raven-haired woman cocks an eyebrow, far from willing to dismiss my worries. “Now tell me. Or, well, us.”

“It’s something to do with your lover, isn’t it?” Brigid remarks, head tilted to the side as she assesses me while sipping at her Irish Breakfast Tea. Her features soften when she notices she has hit a sensitive snare, evidently meaning no harm.

I pull back in my seat as I take a sip of my coffee, flustered and cursing myself for being an open book. There is no way out of this conversation since the current company is like-minded in their refusal to simply let the topic pass before it has been discussed.

I swallow, put the cup on the dish again and clear my throat. Fumbling with the spoon and eyes cast on the cappuccino’s silky milk foam, I tell them of what I think happened. The story sounds strange to my own ears, like a terrible fairy tale told by a chaotic storyteller who can’t tell it in a manner that makes sense regardless of how he manipulates the plot.

Afraid of their reaction, unable to fathom the slightest bit of sympathy and empathy, I look from one to the other. Fortunately, my silence can be excused by drinking the remainder of the coffee although it’s futile since the thirst has nothing to do with bodily needs.

“Sounds familiar.” The woman in white scrunches her nose in disgust as she glares at Morgan.

“He was different,” Morgan sneers through gritted teeth, jaw clenched.

“In essence, he was similar to her lover.’’ Brigid points at me though she remains focused on my best friend, her voice dripping with venom. ‘’Or should I say, is similar?”

“Since when does it matter what he is?” Thin lips painted plum purple curl into a mirthless smile, onyx locks shaking in discontent. “How hypocritical you’ve become. Forgetful of the past.”

“A past worth forgetting. It’s never too late to change your political opinions, Morgan.”

Great, now I’m the one to open Pandora’s box. I should have kept my mouth shut, changed the topic.

Desperate for help yet knowing he cannot do anything, I look for Christian among the other customers. Expression stern and standing as rigid as a statue, he watches our table from behind the counter. It appears he, too, feels the sense of danger increasing as the conversation carries on. Notwithstanding, as becomes clear from the apologetic shake of the head when our eyes meet, he also knows his hands are tied at the moment.

We are on the same boat, waiting to see how the situation will develop.

Playthings of Chance and Fate.

“We’re not here to talk politics,’’ the woman in question answers, covering her mouth with her hands while chewing on a bite of goat cheese and pomegranate seeds, ‘’but to have lunch like civilized and amiable women. To help our friend.”

“You’re right,” Brigid concludes. Nonchalantly, she pierces a piece of egg in her salmon salad and puts its on the bread provided with it, a bread called St Michael’s Bannock according to the menu. Then, she points her fork at me. “But the best thing you can do is leave him while you still can.”

“L- Leave?” Utterly confused, I look at the woman calmly eating her lunch. “Why would I do that?”

Who is she? What’s more, who is she to tell me to leave Jaebeom after what I told her? He needs help and support, regardless of what may or may not be there beneath his skin.

Unless she is on to something I am not and judging by the current circumstances, I won’t get an answer even if I dare to ask. Henceforth, if only not to snap, I clear my throat and swallow the vile words dancing on the tip of my tongue.

“Morgan can tell you why. All I can say is that it’s better to avoid men like your lover in the first place.” She coughs and takes a sip of tea to wash down the salad leaf stuck in her throat while the woman with hair as black as night chuckles darkly. Luckily, it is only loud enough for me to hear and Brigid is too busy preventing herself from choking.

“Sétan-, I- I mean Seán was the one to leave me, not the other way around. And we mutually agreed to part ways in favour of our own well-being.”

“Sure you did. Totally didn’t resort to throwing plates and other pieces of furniture because he rejected you.”

Morgan growls something under her breath, glaring at the woman seated next to me. However, Brigid doesn’t seem to notice the reaction she has provoked or is indifferent to it. “Or washed clothes at the ford where he so ‘happened’ to pass by. Funny how he died soon after.”

Ford? There are quite a few in Ireland, so where and most importantly, when was this? Then again, what are these two on about? Washing clothes in a ford, people dying, politics, lovers to leave. They’re like arguing voices from ancient times.

Moreover, there is the question of Seán’s life. Is he alive or dead? One moment she speaks of him as if he’s still here, but then why would Brigid remark he’s dead?

“You shut your whoremouth, traitor!” With a loud bang, Morgan slams her fists on the table. She stands up with an expression that makes me cower in fear despite not being the target of her wrath.

Behind the counter, Christian slowly comes into motion, carefully moving with the likely intent to inconspicuously circle our table and jump in if necessary. He flinches as Gráinne places a hand on his arm, holding him hard enough for her knuckles to turn white when he tries to escape from her grip in order to prevent the worst from happening. Notwithstanding, whatever the plan was, it goes to waste since he decides to listen to what his colleague tells him. Sighing deeply, he stands down although he continues to observe us.

Gráinne follows his gaze, which seems to be directed at the brown-haired woman in white, her personal target of envy. Her wolfishly fierce expression falters, growing as bleak as the ash of a great bonfire.

This time he doesn’t see how she comes apart at the seams.

Brigid calmly finishes her tea, daps her mouth on the napkin and stands up too. “Get over your crush. There’s no future for you with him. As for you, Y/N,” eyes oddly alight with motherly affection, she turns her attention to me, “and as a piece of advice from a friend, end this relationship while you still can. There’s only heartbreak ahead.”

“Thank you, but,” a wistful smile forms on my lips regardless of the urge to give into the savage nagging inside, “I can’t leave him because I made a promise to stay.”

“I see. Perhaps you’ll prove me wrong and the flowers will bloom in spring.”

And with those final cryptic words, she leaves the café after waving at the tattooed barista.

Or so Brigid intends, but her way is cut off by his colleague.

While clumsily taking off her apron she storms outside, clenching it hard and shivering as if she’s on the brink of tears.

“Gráinne? Gráinne!” Christian runs after his colleague, pale and eyes wide with worry as he comes to a halt in the doorway. “Where are you going? Gráinne!”

Brigid places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a consoling squeeze. After giving him an encouraging slap on the back she sets off, leaving the man standing there like a defeated soldier.

“Poor lass,” Morgan whispers as she watches the female barista pass the window. Something in her tone hints at a level of familiarity between the two.

“You know her?” I ask, frowning.

“I don’t think she remembers me.” She glances at Chris, who has retreated behind the counter. He has his head bowed, smooth black locks hiding his face from the customers. Trembling fingers entwined to conceal his distress as best as possible, he resembles a man of religion fervently praying for forgiveness. “And neither does he. I saw him and his close friend, Finn, once in the woods. No, it was his brother, Jor… was it? When he came to the island. Was that… who was that?’’

A mist clouds her ocean blue eyes, lost in thoughts far removed from this world and time. ‘’He was there. As for Gráinne, we met… somewhere. There was smoke, a burning body. It was- It was at… where? Fuck, I can’t recall. I think it was at his fu-’’ she abruptly cuts herself short to correct herself with a strange undertone in her voice, “not long after I... saw them.”

‘’Morgan, are you alright? You’re looking awfully pale.’’

Instead of breaking free from the spell that has taken hold of her, the reverie only seems to deepen. Rocking side to side, she clutches her arms to her chest. Her skin, although naturally pale, grows sickly like a walking corpse.

‘’I- I’m supposed to remember. I’m one of the few that do. No, he and I are the only ones left that do. I can’t forget. If I do, everyone will. I can’t… I can’t!’’

‘’Morgan!’’ I stand up from my seat to rush to her side. Rubbing her arms, I try with all my might to bring her back to reality from the depths of deliria. ‘’It’s all right, Morgan, nobody is going to forget. Please listen to me and follow my voice, use it as a guide back to me from wherever it is you are. Please, come back to me.’’

‘’May I?’’ Christian has appeared with a glass of water, which he sets on the table before crouching down at the woman’s side as well.

Gently he grabs one of her hands and holds it, talking in a voice that is surprisingly steady and soothing in spite of what happened mere moments ago. It’s rougher and more gruff, making it hard to distinguish one word from another if you are not well-acquainted with the speaker.

In fact, it belongs to a completely different person. ‘’Morgan, as long as there are people who remember, there is nothing to fear. The past has taught us that what might seem like the end isn’t necessarily truly the end. We are still here. We remember because you do and you remember because we do. You’re safe and sound. Instead, return and help me make her remember.’’

‘’Why, of everyone, did you have to fall for her?’’ Gaze blinded by her mind, Morgan reaches out to tenderly run her fingers through the barista’s hair. ‘’What makes her special?’’

‘’She understands.’’ A similar fog veils the misty white and dark eyes, Chris or, rather, the stranger pulled into the same realm of consciousness as my friend. ‘’She broke the chains that bound me and doesn’t allow me to slip into the shadows of what I once was.’’

‘’You’re all the same, aren’t you?’’

‘’It’s rare to find understanding and acceptance in a world naturally turned against you. So, please help me. Help me find her.’’ His voice breaks, the begging words coming out high-pitched like a whining wolf. ‘’Help me find my reason to stay in this world and not forget nor be forgotten.’’

The veil lifts, the spell broken with the whimpered plea.

Christian falls back, but manages to catch himself before his head hits the tiles. Refusing every helping hand from the customers hurrying over, he scrambles to his feet. Fortunately, he accepts the chair I offer him when his dangerous swaying almost causes him to hit his head against the wall.

‘’Are you okay?’’

‘’Yeah, I’m only dizzy.’’ The hiss he lets out flows over into a sound akin to a growl. ‘’And a splitting headache.’’

Morgan has a better return to reality, completely fine aside from a dazed mind. ‘’What happened?’’

‘’You tell me.’’ I search her face for clues, a sliver of the knowledge she is lying. However, I find none.

She is telling the truth.

‘’I… I don’t know. It’s the first time.’’ She clears her throat, brow furrowed. As if having heard a noise, she snaps her head to the side. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Drink your tea, eat a sandwich and go home early from work.”

She hands the glass of water to Christian. ‘’And you, you drink this and stay seated for at least five more minutes until the dizziness has faded. Are you nauseous?’’

‘’No. Although,’’ he dry heaves, ‘’never mind.’’

‘’Make it ten. You look as pale as a banshee.’’

‘’Speak for yourself.’’

‘’You’d make a pretty one, though,’’ Morgan muses when she returns her attention to me. ‘’Beauty makes suffering leading to death easier.’’

Apparently, her return to reality has left her as mad as a hatter so perhaps it wasn’t as good as I initially thought.

“Why on earth would you say that? Besides, what kind of comparison is that, us and a banshee?”

“One based on truth. Now,” she shoves the remainder of her goat cheese and pomegranate sandwich to me, “eat, rest up and get cracking again. We’ll be in touch and visit the new café I found yesterday later, alright?”

“Hey, not so fast. Where are you headed off to?’’

She can’t be serious. There is no way she is unaffected by what happened.

“Attagirl,’’ Morgan says as if I promised to heed her words, ignoring what I actually said. ‘’By the way, ignore what Brigid said and stay with your man. It’s plain to see how he makes you feel.”

“It is?”

“You’re glowing and you come alive when you speak of him. It reminds me of how I was with Seán.” She starts as if awakened from a dream, but tries to hide her awkwardness behind a sheepish smile. “Well, then, take care.”

“You too.’’ The two simple words, otherwise casual, are now carefully chosen in order to not to trigger another ‘attack’.

My gut tight and skin prickling thanks to her inhuman behaviour, I watch the raven-haired woman leave. I hold my wrist, my pulse too rapid to be healthy beneath my thumb.

Like I am at death’s door.

The next morning, there’s an article in the newspaper. A man’s been found dead at the edge of the bogs near town. The cause of his demise is unknown, but there are witness accounts who said they heard a high screech late the night before. In the days that follow, their names show up one by one in funerary advertisements.

A week later, none of the witnesses are alive. Moreover, nobody has heard the screeching since, though everyone remembers the description of the sound.

It was like the howl of a banshee.

#JB #Jaebeom #Im Jaebeom #GOT7 #GOT7 smut #Jaebeom fanfiction #GOT7 Werewolf AU #GOT7 x Reader #Jaebeom x Reader #Jaebeom smut #Werewolf!Jaebeom #Werewolf AU #Werewolf!JB #Not by the Moon

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radiosandrecordings · 3 years

Text

Crossposting my @summer-in-the-archives-event fic here too. [AO3] [Accompanying beautiful art]

He’d never get used to the rolling fields of quiet.

Miles behind and miles to go, not that he could see any of it through the thick blanket of fog that clung to his ankles, and his wrists, and his eyes. Miles to go before I sleep…

It was hard to describe the rain that fell, because even ‘fell’ felt like too active a descriptor. It didn’t pour, it didn’t ‘beat down’, it didn’t pelt, because those all required a sense of agency that the landscape just felt too apathetic to muster. It simply existed, and just happened to be moving downwards by coincidence.

Jon wasn’t sure if he knew or Knew that it seeped into his clothes, coating his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the droplets landing, even pinpricks of touch creating too much of a sensation for this place. He briefly wondered that, if he still had need for his glasses, would the rain even make the effort to trickle down and cloud the lenses.

The last Lonely domain he’d passed through, he’d never seen the avatar that lorded over it. He didn’t have any real interest in finding out, not like the personal vendettas that lead him to seeking out Jude, or Jared. Because with Peter dead he wasn’t left with any Lonely avatars left to chase, save the vague notions of the Lukas extended family. He was simply going to keep his head down and keep trudging, hopefully emerging through the thick banks of mist before he lost his mind to the monotony. If there was ever something to make you miss muffled cries from beneath the earth…

“Why are you here?”

The sound was accusatory, and may as well have been a shotgun in the silence. The damped chill was nothing in comparison to the ice that shot up his spine. The voice had no clear origin, no figures even silhouetted in shadow against the overgrown grass, but it came in close, delivered on the gentle, numbing breeze. Despite this, though, never in a thousand domains could he forget the sound of it. Of course it was his. Of course. Of course. “Martin?”

“No! ”

The voice sounded… Angry. But hurt, like it flinched away from the word. Like something that had been left to sit in the dark too long, that recoiled back from a stinging source of light.

“... I’m going to assume no one has called you that in a long time.” He tried to keep his voice light, as much as the stifling atmosphere would allow it.

“No one is anything here. It’s easier that way. If you’re somebody, you can be hurt. If you have too much personality, too many little facets and cracks, things start to snag and catch on it, and it drags you down to where things ache. But if you’re nothing, then they don’t have anything to cling onto. You can just slip away unharmed.” The voice sounded like it was moving, curling around him and moving from ear to ear, forward and back as it droned on in that echoing monotone that Jon had hoped he would never hear again, and at the same time, had longed to.

“And what about the good things?”

“There isn’t anything good, not anymore. You saw to that.”

Jon snorted. “Low blow, but fair.” He hesitated for a moment, trying to summon the words.

He’d had time, after he left the Lonely, to consider his actions. Regret pooled like acid in his stomach at the memory, and somehow it hurt more than ending the world. He wouldn’t say it was more important. He knew whatever he felt, and moreso, knew that one human life, was not paramount to the suffering of every creature great and small, but it felt more tangible. When he walked through the hellscapes, they were dreamlike, hazy, information in such clarity but to an extreme where it still felt nonsensical to perceive it as reality. He knew the fundamental truths that surrounded him but it still felt hard to accept them even as he lived them.

Yet despite having lived without it for eight months prior, the space beside him that failed to solidify into Martin still stung with his absence. And Jon regretted it every not-day he spent walking the hellscape, both in knowing he doomed a good man to suffering, or worse, revelry, in this new world, and in the far more personal, and far more selfish, part of him that missed him so goddamn much.

“But- But Martin, I think I made a mistake.”

“Obviously.”

“Not- Not that. I mean, when we were in the Lonely. The- The first time. With Peter Lukas.” The silence droned on, and Jon took that as his cue to continue. “Do you remember what I said? That maybe you were safer here? And that’s… That’s why I let you stay. I didn’t push you to, to leave with me because I thought you wanted to be here, that you’d be safer here than you’d be with me. But I don’t think that was entirely true.”

“I am safe here.”

“Maybe so. It doesn’t mean it’s better though, does it. Martin, I saw those people, in the last Lonely domain. I know it’s different, they were victims and you’re… You’re an avatar, here, you’re feeding off of all of this, but I promise you they were not happy. They were so alone and it didn’t protect them, it just made it worse. Think about it, the logic of this world. There are threats out there of unimaginable horror, and yet they were still assigned here, it’s their worst nightmare. And you were assigned here too. You’re all suffering, just in different ways, but all calculated to be your personal worst.”

“The Martin Blackwood you thought you knew doesn’t exist anymore. He had to be filed down, too many breaks and tears in him that grew and grew, any time someone raised a harsh word. The best way for him to be protected, is for him to go away entirely. You cannot hurt something that doesn’t exist.”

“Are you sure about that? Because you just said ‘I’.”

“What? ” That anger reemerged again, and as staunched as it was it was beautiful, a return to form amongst the dull monotone, reminiscent of the few times Jon had been privileged enough to witness a truly pissed off Martin Blackwood.

Jon found himself grinning. “You said ‘I am safe here’. Emphasis on the ‘I’. Ergo, you still have some form of identity left, and thus I would wager that the part of you left is Martin. Unless I’ve wandered across some other avatar of the Lonely who sounds like him, of course.”

“You’re always so fucking smug, you know that?”

The voice is coming from behind him. Actually, physically, presently behind him and Jon spins around so fast he’s almost dizzy.

And as much as it made his heart soar, and much as he was glad to finally, finally , see him again when he’d thought he never would, Martin looked… Bad.

His skin had darkened, mottled and blotchy with large swathes of a bruise-like blue or sickly green cropping up across his face and neck, or the parts of his forearms visible where his cable knit sleeves rolled back. It was like frostbite from the cold, or some disturbing onset of trench-foot from the damp, corpselike and unsettling. What was worse, though, were the parts that simply ceased. His hair didn’t even reach the tips, simply fading out into a grey static that merged with the mist, and it consumed his eyes whole, tear tracks streaking down his face in patterns of fuzzy, crackling grey that snapped and popped in the silence, far too reminiscent of a tape.

The sight made Jon’s heart clench like a fist, the combination of relief and horror, and in that moment he understood Jane Prentiss more completely than he ever had before. It would’ve felt like a rude comparison to consciously make, the person he cared for most equated to a pulped and writhing mass that churned out creatures that made your skin crawl before tearing into it. But he knew what she had seen in it, that call towards the thing that fascinated you, despite the turning it causes in your stomach.

Despite this, however, Jon steeled himself. This was rapidly becoming a battle, and he couldn’t afford the cost of emotions. He had to keep Martin, well… Martin. Draw out the emotion. In short, be a bit of a bastard. So instead, he cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you liked that about me?”

He could see Martin’s fists clench, the colour of his extremities dyed black from frostbite. The irritation was still clear as he started into “Fucking hell J-” but they both appeared taken aback as he dissolved into a choking, hacking cough.

It took everything in him for Jon to tamp down the need to surge forward, put a hand on his back and ask if he was okay. It was a strangely mundane thing; the man was made out of static and fog and despite seeming to have an on-and-off-again relationship with his corporeal form, this was the first recognisably human thing to adversely affect him. Why, though? What had Martin done to trigger- Oh. Oh .

“That- That priest from the statement… 0113005? Father Burroughs. He couldn’t say the name of god. Anything related to it, really. And you… You couldn’t say my…”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Martin spat. “You’re not a god or thee god, whatever your new eye magic might imply. It’s just…” He let out a breath that turned into a grumble. While his eyes had always been cloudy, he was now refusing to meet Jon’s gaze.

Regardless, it still drew a breathy laugh out of him. “No, I’m not that far gone into my own self importance yet. But… It’s about the connection, isn’t it?” Something in the conversation had changed, it’s tone or it’s flow, that felt contradicting. Tension coiling up to spring, or they’re barrelling towards a culmination, but at the same time, Jon felt like the wind had been kicked right out of him. He lowered himself to the ground, slowly, settling among the grass and trying to ignore the unpleasant dampness under him. Hey, he could feel the damp again. That was something.

“That’s more flattering, actually, I would say… The Lonely, it thinks if you acknowledge me directly, that would loosen it’s hold on you.” Jon huffed out a breath. “You know I listened to all the tapes. What was it that Daisy said to you, when I was on the run? ‘People say you two are close’? Well, the Lonely appears to agree.” He took a minute before adding, “I would, as well. And, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was too… Too in my own head, before, to admit it. Too much of a coward to do it before that, even. But you need to know I love you. And I know that you… Cared for me, at least? Even if I stuck my head in the sand to ignore it. But the Lonely seems to think you do, still. So will you please come back to me? I know it’s not- I know it won’t be much better, travelling through the domains, but it’s all I can offer and it has to be better than this. I can’t promise anything kind will be waiting for us in London, but you’d be yourself again, and I can’t… Martin, I can’t lose you again. To leave here, again, without you, I’d be losing you. Please.”

“No.”

There wasn’t even a delay to his response, stating it in monotone the second Jon had finished speaking. It felt like ice, lancing through his heart.

“Martin. Martin, please -”

“I said no. I thought you would’ve learned by now; I’m not exactly amenable when you come crawling to me with half baked plans of escape. Because you don’t love me, you love the idea of me. You are quite literally the only free man left in the world and you’re lonely . So you’re looking for a familiar face. Kind Martin, caring Martin, always there with tea and taking your side in every argument. Defending you to Tim when you’d just as soon slag him off behind his back, or on tape. Pretty appealing when everyone else is trying to kill you. At least he treated you like a god before this even started.”

Each sentence felt like another dagger to the chest, and it took him a moment to compose himself, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. Eventually, though, Jon spoke. “That’s not true, though. I- Martin I can’t apologise enough that that’s what it’s felt like, for you. But I need you to know, that isn’t true. A-At the start, maybe, I can’t deny I was stupid and spiteful, but you didn’t deserve any of it. And after that… I didn’t do a one-eighty and decide you were a doormat. I liked you because you were secretly enough of a prick as well. Any time you’d pull me out for lunch when I dragged my heels, or argued back when I said something shitty, that was… It felt like I was seeing the real you. The one you didn’t want to let people think of you as, but the one you were, because despite wanting to appear like the picture of innocence, you are a bitch, Martin Blackwood. And that’s my favourite thing about you. Maybe time is sweetening my memory, slightly, but I truly don’t believe there’s rose coloured glasses here. If we walk out of here, I’m not under any sort of illusion that it’ll be a honeymoon. We will doubtless find something to argue over, if not several, but I want that. I want you at my side to, to disagree and point out all my blind spots. We’re both stubborn bastards but I’m stupidly fallible, and I need you to keep me balanced. I don’t want a yes-man, I want you, Martin, and I’m asking for that knowing full well what it entails.”

When the words stopped flowing, he found himself gasping for breath, sobs building in his chest and threatening to spill over. But Martin was standing closer.

“That’s- I don’t- Fuck.” As Jon looked up, wiping at his own eyes, he could see fog starting to trickle from Martin’s mouth, coming in short bursts as his nostrils flared and chest rose and fell noticeably for the first time that Jon had seen since he stepped foot onto the moors. This caused a conflict of emotion in Jon, because while it seemed to be another step towards humanity, Martin letting the Lonely fall to the wayside in favour of reclaiming himself, it also looked far too close to a panic attack to be something worth celebrating.

“I don’t understand,” he finally settled on, voice cracking on the words. He slowly let himself sink to the ground opposite Jon, knees pulled up to his chest. “I left you. Time and again I left you. I left you to work with Lukas, and I left you when you tried to get me to run away, and I left you when I stayed on the beach.” His palms were pressed into his eyes, mist seeping from between his knuckles as he dragged them across his face, though Jon couldn’t be sure if he was attempting to wipe the fog away, or if he was stalling while he faltered, trying to summon the words. Both, maybe. Jon took the silence from him.

“You didn’t really choose that, though. You didn’t feel like you even had a choice. So Martin if… If you’re worried that I think badly of you for that, I don’t. Martin, I’ve done so many terrible things, so to- No, no, actually I don’t mean it like that. I don’t mean that you’re a good person, compared with me. I think you’re a good person full stop. And I just want you to be able to see that. I know the Lonely is quite literally clouding your judgement right now but… Please, just, just make me a deal?”

Martin’s palms were resting on his chin now, cupping his cheeks and curving around his neck. He nodded once, wearily, for Jon to continue.

Jon drew in a breath “I think I’m in some sort of… Bubble. Like a miniature domain, when I’m travelling. I think, if you agree to come with me, even for a little bit, that might dissolve some of the Lonely’s more adverse effects. Make it easier to think, to, to be yourself without its influence. If that is what happens, and you want to return… I’ll bring you back. But please, just… Try? For me?”

Martin sighed, hands dropping from his face. “...Fine.”

“You- Really?”

“Yes. I… Look, J-” Martin bit back another coughing fit. “Look. I am… There is a lot of me right now that wants to leave. The fog is… It’s in my head, figuratively, probably even literally, but… I remember something Basira said. When she got back, from, from The Unknowing . Melanie wanted to know how she got out, when the other three… When you, and Daisy, and Tim, didn’t. She said she reasoned her way out. So I’m going to listen to reason for a minute, as much as it’s paining me.”

Despite those final words, Jon felt his face crack into a smile. “That’s… Yes, you’re right. Well that’s… That’s a very reasonable connection to make.”

And for the first time in a long time, Martin smiled.

“Uhm, so how does this work then?” He eventually said, hand coming up again to scratch the back of his neck in an old nervous habit Jon could not be more happy to see.

“Well”, Jon said, taking a moment to brush sodden grass from his trousers as he got to his feet, “I would say, based on the dream logic that everything here seems to run on here, it should be rather simple.” He held out a hand to tug Martin up after him.

Martin took it.

It was almost cliché, how the Lonely fell away from him. It only took a few seconds, all in all, for the bruising to fade, receding their colourful splotches until his skin lay clear again. His frostbitten fingers healing themselves, sewing broken skin back together and returning to a healthy colour. His face, too, was returning to its original pallor, the change creeping up his neck and across his cheeks and leaving rich brown in its wake. Dark eyes stared down at Jon from behind long lashes, blinking away the last of the fog. He was beautiful.

“Hi,” Jon managed to choke out.

“Hi,” Martin said, and pulled him into his arms.

Jon just let himself be held in the pressure of the embrace for a moment, before bringing a hand up to card his fingers through Martin’s hair. While it had solidified into soft curls, the colour had stayed the same, bleaching it white under his fingertips. He wasn’t sure if Martin had noticed or not, but that was a conversation for another time. They were both a little preoccupied for the moment.

“How do you feel?” Jon eventually said, words pressed into the side of Martin’s neck.

“Uhm. Strange?” Martin eventually settled on. “It’s… I can remember what my thought process was, what the Lonely was pushing me to believe, but it’s like… It’s like the camera panned out, and now I can see it all clearly, and it looks… It looks stupid. Thank you, Jon. For coming to get me.”

“Of course,” Jon whispered, “Of course.”

Another moment passed before Martin spoke up again. “...Did you mean what you said, though? Or was that… Was that just to try and get me to leave? I- I won’t be angry, if it was, that- that’s very clever, I just want to know.”

Jon furrowed his brow. “Which part do you mean?”

Martin let out an agitated sigh. “You- You know which one I mean, Jon. The- The part where that you said that you…”

“That I love you?” Jon said, picking up where Martin trailed off.

Martin’s face flushed, and just the sight of colour spreading across it made Jon’s heart soar, let alone the implications of why . “Of course I did. I- I’m sorry that you would think I would lie about that, even for something like this. No, Martin, I love you. So very much. And I know you might not feel that way anymore, in which case I am very much embarrassing myself here, but I know that you did at one stage so I hope it won’t make things too awkward between us.” “I do, Jon.”

“What?”

“I do. Still feel that way. I love you too, of course I do. My hero.”

It was Jon’s turn to feel his face flush, pleasant warmth bubbling to the surface. “Oh,” was all he managed to stutter out.

“Can I- Jon do you mind if I…” Martin trailed off again, and Jon began to think this might be a recurring theme between them. He’d make it work. He was pretty good at reading Martin, and the eyeline pointed directly at his lips made intentions quite clear.

“Is- Would just the cheek be okay?” He replied. It didn’t really feel like the time for a full run down on where boundaries lay, but he figured it was a start.

“More than,” Martin said, leaning down to press his lips softly against Jon’s cheek. He lingered for a few seconds, skin largely healed but still chapped from the cold, and it was one of the most beautiful things Jon had ever felt. He slipped one hand into Martin’s, and he felt their fingers twine together.

Martin leaned back, clearly trying to calm his grin into something more close-lipped and calm. “Where to now then?”

“Uhm. Forward, really, is just how I’ve been going. There isn’t any real sense of geography to it, we’ll just…. Get there when we get there.”

“Right. Because nothing can be simple these days.”

Jon missed this. He missed him. But he didn’t have to miss him anymore, did he? He was right there.

He squeezed his hand once, and started leading the way.

#My Post #Jonmartin #The Magnus Archives #I'm maybe pushing this one a little hard but I just. crave validation okay #And I want to see what the difference is between how a fic does as a tumblr post vs ao3 #lets call it science #My Writing #Martin Blackwood #Jonathan Sims

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pearl-blue-musings · 3 years

Text

Never Been Kissed: EraserMic

HI WELCOME TO SAD BOI HOURS

so i didn’t technically have an idea for them but yall know how the brain be sometimes....

This will be longer than some of the other ones because SAD and gets a little steamy at the end so I might make a smutty part to get better at writing smut who knows

Warnings: language, suggestive content, 18+ to be safe, also angst whoops

Pairing: EraserMic x fem!reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say you were surprised is an understatement. You figured your two best friends wouldn’t be spending their New Years Eve with you in your lonely apartment eating pizza and watching crazy countdown shows.

And yet, here you were. Snuggled in between them with your head on the stoic and quiet dark haired man, laughing at whatever joke the loud blond squawked during a commercial break. To you, this was bliss; just a woman with her two male best friends.

Two best friends who were in love with each other and had been for awhile.

Two best friends that you were also in love with.

But you did as you normally do: squash them down into nothingness, trapping them in a locked box with no means of finding the key.

You had met the duo as a transfer student in your third year at U.A. Since Hizashi was better with English, he was your guide and helper for the first couple of weeks helping you get adjusted to life and catching you up on things you might’ve missed. You can never forget the way his eyes lit up at you upon first glance. His presence was overwhelming but nary in a bad way. He was overwhelmingly sweet and patient with you, despite his enormous personality.

In time you met Aizawa, his counterpart, the Yin to his Yang. Where Hizashi was large, he was small. Where Aizawa would ponder his thoughts, the blond would blurt them out. They really were perfect together and somehow you had entered into their perfect world.

It was no wonder you had developed feelings and fast.

They welcomed you when no one would. Looked after you when you were stressed, the butt of a joke, or were missing home. They were always there, always by your side.

So why did it hurt so much when you found them together?

You hadn’t meant to arrive at his house early for your study session, but you were in such a good mood! Were you thinking of confessing? Maybe. But that all went away when you turned the corner too early. There they were, your two best friends kissing in the most passionate way imaginable.

And you just watched.

How had you not known? Of course you had known, they were perfect for each other. All you did was complicate the narrative of their life. You knew about the friend they had lost almost a year ago so you understood their close ties even more now. They found solace in each other. And who were you? Some new foreign transfer student stupidly and hopelessly in love with the two guys who gave you attention and the time of day?

You only watched seconds longer for them to break apart and then peck each other on the lips again. You hear Hizashi whisper, “Do you think we should tell her?”

Aizawa sigh’s, “Only if you want to. I know how much you care about her.”

You didn’t dare listen to the rest of their conversation as you turned heel and ran. Tears beginning to cloud your vision as you run back to your place. Once you got your breath and quirk under control, you had sent them both a text saying that something had come up. For now, it was enough for them and for you.

You began to avoid them for a few weeks, forcing yourself to move on and bury your feelings deeper. You had resided to being the third wheel, the one that’s always left out, the black sheep, the odd one out; as if that hadn’t been your life before so it wasn’t anything new. What had shocked you one day as the lunch bell rang, was a pale hand grabbing onto your uniform.

“Hizashi is worried about you.”

You couldn’t meet his gaze.

“I’m worried about you. You’ve been avoiding us.”

You conjure up a quick lie that doesn’t get past the observant student. “Sorry, I’ve been really try to focus more on school and graduation and trying to find my own identity. Having to make up internship time while getting a provisional license has taken up most of my time.”

Aizawa was unconvinced but played along. “I get it. Talk to us when you can, okay?”

You only nod and kept your head down to avoid his knowing gaze. You had walked away just in time for a tear to fall, and for you to run into the other person from the dynamic duo.

“You’re lying to us, princess,” Hizashi says surprisingly low. “What’s wrong?”

Soon you were joined by his partner and had both of them boring into you. Well it was better tell a half truth, not like they needed to know.

“Sorry you guys,” you mumble. “I’ve been really stressed with all i have to do to graduate with you all. I didn’t wanna burden you with that.”

And my unresolved feelings

“Is that all?! You had us worried sick! Don’t keep us out like that okay? Ya dig?”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread onto your lips at his usual language. “Yeah,” you giggle, “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll tell you two everything.”

“Speaking of truths,” Aizawa interrupts, “there’s something we’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“You’re dating, I know. I wanted to give you two space so...”

Lime green eyes widen and his jaw dropped. “You knew?! Is it that obvious??”

You full on laughed at that. “It kinda is. You two are perfect for each other.”

Ever since the unveiling of particular truths the three of you were always close. You didn’t always feel like a third wheel to their relationship but all of you were open books to each other. Except about your feelings; that is a secret you are willing to take to your grave.

It was only ten minutes until midnight and the drinks had finally slowed from their free flowing. The three of you enjoyed a couple drinking games of watching the different countdowns and by this point, you were drunk. You had noticed the time and lifted your head from Shouta’s shoulder and began to get up.

“Hey you, why are you moving?”

You had paused and were halfway standing when those almond eyes bore into yours. “Oh, well it’s, it’s almost midnight. Ion wanna get in the way of your kiss so I’ll, I will move.”

The couple exchange a glance, a look on their faces one you had never seen before then back to you. You don’t pick up on it and continue to stand.

“(Y/n)...it’s a stupid thing it doesn’t-”

“I’ll get the champagne. Sham. Pain. Sham pahgney. Wait there.”

The two men on the floor remain in their same spots. Hizashi trying not to chortle too much at your pronouncing of champagne and Aizawa trying to figure your mood. He never thought anything was awkward between the three of you, but lately it had begun to be. He’d find himself wondering what you were doing or how it would be nice to cuddle you in his sleeping bag. Even Hizashi doesn’t get sleeping bag rights.

And Hizashi can act aloof and unaware, but he’s been having urges for you in a way that he thought he had gotten rid of. He had told Shouta back in U.A. but the first time he saw you he wanted to believe in love at first sight but he was already with him by then. Why? He already loved someone, why did he still feel incomplete?

As much as they loved you showering them in compliments that they were perfect for each other, the couple had always felt empty. But that feeling would change when you were around. How were they to tell you how they really felt? It should be obvious how much they care and love you, they each cancelled their radio show and patrol for the evening to be with you. Why couldn’t you see?

You had returned with three champagne flutes filled with the golden bubbly drink. You frown a little that they hadn’t moved, so you sat down and handed them their drinks. The only sound that was heard between the trio was the announcement of the final five minutes of the year. You rested your head against the couch and deeply exhaled.

“(Y/n),” Shouta starts, “are you okay?”

“Yeah dove! It looks like you were crying! Talk to us!”

Your head quickly snaps up and you take your empty hand to touch your face. Fuck, you had been crying. When did that happen?

“Oh you two,” you sniffle out while wiping your face. “It’s nothing, nothing! I was remembering my, uh, ex and how we were supposed to kiss at midnight and I guess I got sad. It’s nothing.”

“He wasn’t worth your time, ya dig? You’re beautiful!”

“You can do better. He didn’t treat you right.”

It seems that they both spoke at the same time, making the three of you break into laughter. But once you take in their words, you begin to sober up slightly. Did they really mean it? There’s no way, you need to keep those feelings locked up. Suddenly the flood works were opened.

Hizashi is the first to wrap an arm around you. “(Y/n) princess. Talk to us.”

Lock it up, bury it deeper.

“Like I said, my ex. I was finally going to get my New Years kiss but it’s not gonna happen.”

Throw away the key.

“Dumb right? I’ve never had a New Years kiss and that’s what’s got me so upset.”

They can never know.

And now there’s only 30 seconds left of the year and you’ve already come up with a resolution. Let them go. Let go of your feelings for your two best friends. You had started that resolution earlier in the year with a new boyfriend but he had dumped you at the beginning of December. He claimed that your heart wasn’t in it and that you didn’t love him. You did, you just happened to love two other men too. That’s how it is.

“It’s not dumb, Kitten. You have a right to be sad.”

The timer began to dwindle from 10. You hadn’t realized how your tears were being wiped away from both sides of your face. All three of you had abandoned your drinks in exchange for this moment. Your cheeks were warm but not from the alcohol. You began to smell two distinct scents overcoming you as you began to feel them come closer into your space.

Don’t let them know, and let them go.

“Happy New Year!”

You had barely heard the announcer say those words when you felt two sets of lips on your cheeks. This is all you had ever wanted but you couldn’t stop crying when they didn’t stop touching and caressing you.

“Please stop,” you whimper out as you feel yourself being pulled in one direction.

You meet lime green irises as he holds your chin. “No, we won’t. Fuck, can’t you see how much we love you?” The blond silences your rebuttal by kissing your lips in a way you had only dreamed of. A different set of hands had rested themselves underneath you sweater and was feeling all of your skin, reaching the front of your bra.

When you part for air panting, your eyebrows furrow. “I don’t, I don’t understand. Please don’t hurt me anymore. I, I mean... How long have you known?”

You’re turned around to face Shouta and his dilated pupils. “We’ve always known about our feelings for you. We were waiting for you to see how much we love you.” He pecks your lips lightly.

“You love me?”

Their words and actions are incredible to you right now. But you can’t think clearly as Aizawa cups your face to clear it of more tears as he affectionately places his lips on yours, kissing some of your tears and hurt away.

Aizawa nods into your kiss and pulls back, noticing a string of saliva connecting your plump lips to his. “We have, for a while now.”

“We realized our feelings for you a year after we had all graduated,” Hizashi intercepts. He takes the two of you up onto the couch and places you in his lap comfortably. “Well, I knew I liked you from the moment I met you! And I think for Shou it was when you didn’t speak to us for a few weeks. But then,” he stops to kiss your cheek and then trail down to the corner of your lips, “after you had gotten hurt as a sidekick and were severely injured,” his hand draws circles on your thigh, “we realized we didn’t know what to do if you weren’t around, ya know?” He finishes with a kiss.

You pull away, “But that was five years ago?” You feel the couch dip behind you as Aizawa takes your free hand and interlocks it with his, giving you comforting rubs. But he also takes your hands closer to his crotch. He’s hard? “You kept dating shitty guys.”

“Yeah! To try to get over you!” You cover your face in your hands as you begin to remember the people you had dated and how they didn’t compare to the two men beside you right now. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to get the feeling that they had some more plans in mind for your new year start, considering one was already hard and the other hadn’t stopped touching you. The touches went from friendly to lust filled in mere seconds.

“Listener, baby girl I gotta know. Why did you really stop talking to us back then?” the blond pinches your thigh and moves his hand closer and closer to your heat making your heart beat race.

“I, hah, I caught you two.”

The pair stops and looks to you.

“Kissing. Before one of our study sessions. I was heartbroken. I overheard part of the conversation but I ran away crying.”

Aizawa catches your neck and you end up meeting his lips again, as another pair trail up and down your neck. “Kitten, if you had staid longer you would have heard us talk about maybe opening it up to you. It was his idea since he caught feels first.”

The man at your neck whines and bites down, eliciting a moan from you as he pouts at his lover. “Don’t put this on me! You wanted to include her too but you were too chicken to admit your feelings.”

“Guys...”

Aizawa runs his hand down to your ass and gives it a tight squeeze. Your lips involuntarily open and he prods his tongue inside your mouth. Your hands find purchase in his shirt, finding some sort of stability. From how this was going, you weren’t going to be able to walk tomorrow.

Both men look up to you with love in their eyes and hearts and you smile fondly at them both.

“(Y/n),” Hizashi breathes, “we love you so much.”

“I love you guys too.”

Aizawa grunts and mumbles out,

“Let us show you how much we love you, okay Kitten?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@cupcake-rogue

#my writing #i did the thing #never been kissed #erasermic #erasermic x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #hizashi yamada x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #hizashi yamada #present mic x reader #eraserhead x reader #bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #mha x reader #present mic x fem!reader #aizawa x female reader #erasermic x fem!reader

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retrievablememories · 3 years

Text

matched | ten (m)

title: matched pairing: alien!ten x black!reader genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool. word count: 9.7k warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected

i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃

AM 2074 (After Migration)

You are lonely.

Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.

The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.

Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.

With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.

You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”

“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”

“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”

Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”

“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”

You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”

Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.

Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.

➤ Species Preference ❐ Human ❐ Extraterrestrial

Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?

You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.

Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.

You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.

You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.

The first few matches you make are not very successful.

Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app.

You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.

“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”

“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”

“I’m saying, just give it time!”

“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.

“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”

“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”

“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.

“Don’t forget about it, either.”

“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”

“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”

You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.

“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.

You click on his profile.

You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.

“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”

The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.

➤ Nice pictures :)

You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.

You eventually get a reply back from Ten.

➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos

You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?

The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.

To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.

Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.

For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.

“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.

“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.

Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.

“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.

“Warned you about what?”

“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.

“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, let’s go!”

You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.

You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.

“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.

“It’s a stingray!”

He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”

You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.

After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.

“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.

“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.

Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”

You give him a curious look. “Why not?”

“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”

You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”

“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”

“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”

“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.

“Uh, wow.”

“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”

“...Empathetic?”

“Yeah, that.”

“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”

You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”

At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.

“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.

“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take.

“What—”

“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.

“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.

“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.

“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.

“So...can I expect to see you again?”

“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”

Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.

You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.

You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.

After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.

You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.

You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.

“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.

“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.

When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.

“Um…hi, mom, dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”

Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.

“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.

Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.

“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.

“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.

“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.

“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”

“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.

“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.

“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”

A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.

You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.

There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?”

Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”

You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.

“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”

“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.

“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”

You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.

“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”

Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.

You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”

You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”

“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”

“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.

“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.

The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.

He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.

When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...”

“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.

You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.

“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.

“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.

Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.

He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.

More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.

Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.

On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.

Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human.

Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.

Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.

You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Can you please—”

You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards.

“You can talk first,” Ten says.

“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”

Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.

“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”

Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.

“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.

“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.

You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.

Ten’s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.

“Go where?” he asks.

“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”

Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.

Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.

You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.

Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.

Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.

When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.

You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.

“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”

“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.

When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”

On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it’s always remained firmly shut until now.

“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.

You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.

The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.

Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.

“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.

“I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”

You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”

“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.

The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.

Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.

“What if we stayed here?”

You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.

Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.

“Stayed?”

“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”

He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.

You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”

“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.

You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.

This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.

You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your mouth drops open slightly.

“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway.

Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.

You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.

Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.

You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.

Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.

“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.

His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.

He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.

Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.

Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust.

He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button.

Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.

His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.

He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.

“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.

You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”

“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.

“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”

You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.

The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.

“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.

Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.

Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.

When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.

The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.

You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.

The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.

He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.

When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.

As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.

Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.

You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.

When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.

“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”

You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.

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