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sseomtada · 3 days

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being [ruben dias]

so, how are you and ruben doing after everything?

warnings: 18+ | wc: 5152 | part: 8/8

a/n: literally didn't expect to write anything this year much less finish a fic?? if you read this entire thing tysm 💌

Some time had passed since that night at your place.

Even though it was an ordeal that could’ve upended everything for you, the effect it had was starkly the opposite. Sure, there were days where your chest ached and your mind got stormy. They were becoming less frequent though.

Your anger had managed to boil down to a simmer, but you still weren’t ready to have that conversation with your mom yet. After everything you’d been through, you just wanted to lean into all of the fullness that your current life had to offer.

Work had become something of a mad house again. Deals with brands like Carhartt and YSL Beauty, along with the continuing project of managing Erling’s personal branding kept the three of you on your toes.

That didn’t stop the conference room from turning into the occasional tribunal about your personal lives. You gave Cindy the rundown on your relationship with Ruben. How you’d known each other for ages, dated for a while, broke up for complicated reasons beyond your control and eventually found your way back to one another.

That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard! She cooed with clasped hands.

Aki gagged dramatically.

Her and Ruben’s friendship had began to mend. They spoke not long after she found out the truth. She expressed the same things that you did - what he was forced to do wasn’t fair. Aki also didn’t blame him for making her collateral damage. There wasn’t a world where they could’ve continued being friends after the fallout and she knew there also wasn’t one where he would’ve made her carry the burden with him.

When she tried to play it cool at the suggestion that you should all get together at your place, you hid your wide, knowing smile. You knew she missed having him around. Their bond was something she hadn’t found in anyone else during those years apart.

If you guys don’t hug it out, I’ll wrap you in the same blanket. You threatened as they stood awkwardly in each other’s presence.

Like two siblings who were forced to reconcile by their parent after a fight, they shuffled closer until they exchanged stiff pats on the back. You sneakily recorded the moment - or so you thought.

Hey, I see you! Get back here! Aki yelled as she chased after you.

Escaping the clutches of one was easier than evading the duo that boxed you in, ganging up on you like old times. She scooped you up from your arms while Ruben got your legs. You struggled but eventually conceded, letting your body turn into dead weight in their hold before you were tossed onto your sofa and pummeled with cushions.

Aki took a picture of your disheveled form, hair sticking up in several directions. Sweet revenge.

Ruben smoothed out the wild strands and peppered your face with kisses. His head was the next to fall victim to a flying pillow. He gasped with wide eyes at Aki who shrugged, do that on your own time. You chuckled and returned his gesture.

It was one of the best nights you had in a long time.

You and Ruben also finally got around to doing things like going out on dates in public. He started off by showing you his favorite spot to go when he wanted to clear his mind. The weather had warmed up, making a walk along some trails at the reservoir a comfortable excursion. He brought you an ice cream cone from one of the trucks at the car park, indulging in some as you took in nature.

Ever the romantic, he brought along a blanket and some snacks. You fought against the urge to feed the cute little birds that flitted about while he asked how far you’d made it down your travel bucket list.

I finished it last summer, you grinned.

When you first wrote it, there were only a handful of cities. At that point in your life you never could’ve imagined that you would be able to visit all of the destinations you dreamed of. So, you settled with aiming for only a few.

Let’s make a new one, he pulled out his phone.

You reclined on his chest as you told him anything that came to mind, even the most random choices that left him confused. In the calmness and serenity of your surroundings, you were lulled into a nap beneath his soothing strokes of your waist. When you got home that night, he sent you a screenshot of a booking confirmation to the first new destination.

The following date night found you getting all dressed up for a fancy dinner. As much as you liked staying in and being cozy with Ruben, you also thoroughly enjoyed the princess treatment. He never let you touch a door handle and made sure to pull out your seat for you.

Ruben gazed at you over the dimly lit table in a way that made you wonder if he was hungry for the food or something else. When he told you that you looked ravishing, your silent question was answered. Though he was visibly eager to get you out of your dress, he practiced patience.

To opt for a distraction, you decided to play a game with the other couples around you. Guess their jobs, how long they’d been together and if they actually get on well.

I would hate to be in the room when that guy finds out she’s only using him for an expensive meal, you whispered.

How do you know? Ruben’s mouth dropped.

She’s been texting this entire time under the table, you nudged your head towards the faint glow behind the linen.

Not everyone there was playing pretend. Beside you two being evidence of that, there was another couple on the other side of the room that were so obviously in love, it made your lips tug. Your eyes widened, shoes tapping Ruben’s as you saw the guy sneak a box out of his pocket.

They didn’t make a scene, her yes coming quietly with a series of excited nods before he slipped the ring onto her finger. When your bill came, Ruben asked for theirs as well. On the receipt, you both congratulated them on their engagement and wished them endless years of happiness.

In a way, you felt like you were writing that note as if it were a wish for your future. You and him had went through enough bumps in the road and derailments to last a lifetime. The only thing you wanted to experience now were moments like this - his hand enclosing yours, smiling lips dropping to your bare shoulder and you holding his head there for just one second longer.

You woke up before your alarm, but didn’t feel exhausted.

A consecutive week of good sleep had been bestowed upon you. Whether it was due to having days that left you fulfilled or nights mostly spent cuddled up to Ruben, you’d take it. Last night was one of the few occasions you’d slept alone. He was off again on football duties, but stayed with you on video call up until it was time for lights out.

You took the opportunity the extra time gave to take a long shower and put on that sapphire two piece you had as an option for Erling’s launch party. It looked even better on you today. A slight tan had returned to your skin from basking in a rare sunny day on your boyfriend’s balcony.

The outfit helped you feel like the head of a company, which was what you needed going in to today. Things were doing well enough that you were finally in the position to expand. Cindy had shortlisted some candidates for receptionist and senior developer positions. Naturally, their finals rounds would be held by you.

You made a stop at your favorite cafe on the same street as your office. Along with putting in an order for you and the crew’s regular coffees, you got a box of assorted pastries with varying options in consideration of dietary restrictions - should the prospective hires want a treat as well.

That’s definitely her. MCFCWAGS just posted a picture on their story yesterday.

Your ears caught onto a whisper coming from the table by the window. As tempting as it was to fully turn around, you instead found a reflective surface in the form of an espresso machine to spot a group of teenagers.

She’s prettier in person, how annoying.

That made you squint, unsure of how to feel. Was that a compliment or the backhanded counterpart of one? It was so hard to tell with the unironic/ironic sense of humor Generation Alpha had.

I like that she’s not some thirsty influencer trying to get more followers by being with Ruben.

True…

Someone said they actually grew up together so-

Your order was called, snapping you out of your eavesdropping spell - which perhaps was for the best. There was a simple reason you stayed away from blogs and pages about player’s personal lives: ignorance was bliss.

On your way out, you kept your eyes ahead despite seeing their gazes follow you in your periphery. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding once you were in the clear. Thank goodness they’d spotted you today and not that time you couldn’t be bothered to change out of your pajama bottoms.

“I would kiss you, but unfortunately I know where that mouth’s been.” Aki plucked her iced americano from the cup holder.

“Poetic as always.” You shook your head.

“Cheers, love!” Cindy beamed. “I’ve organized the CVs and notes from my previous interviews in the meeting room for you.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” You groaned appreciatively. “Wish me luck.”

Not long after you’d gotten through browsing the information laid out and finishing your drink, you began your rounds of interviews. The pressure was off on your end since they wouldn’t have made it here if they didn’t meet all the necessary criteria.

All you were interested in was hearing about them. How they preferred to work, any goals they had set professionally or personally and how working at Bana could help in achieving them. Also, any unique qualities, hobbies or experiences, no matter how irrelevant they sounded to the position. You wanted to surround yourself with people that you could learn from, no matter their background.

The good news was that the interviews flew by and went well. That unfortunately was also the bad news. It made an already difficult decision of having to choose only one of them per role even harder. You roped Aki in for objectivity since she didn’t have bias formed on a face to face basis.

By the time you’d came to a consensus, working hours had wrapped up. There was no need to go overtime. For once, you didn’t feel the urge to overachieve and push your projects ahead of schedule. Everything was moving right on track and that was enough. You were learning to be satisfied with that.

“Did you get Ruben’s message?” You asked Aki in the lift back up to your floor.

“Yeah.” She rolled her eyes and when she caught you waiting for the response to your unasked follow up, she plastered on a smile. “And yes, I’ll be there.”

One of the few things you had yet to do as his girlfriend was go to see him play in person. It wasn’t as if you were actively avoiding doing so, at least not in your eyes. You were just waiting to feel comfortable enough to step into a space where you’d only be seen as Ruben Dias’ WAG.

The reason behind why that made you feel a bit of pressure was still unclear, but you didn’t want to delay things any longer. Besides, Erling was pestering you about not taking up his offer from ages ago to give the Etihad a visit. You were approaching the upcoming debut of sorts with a two birds, one stone mentality.

When the weekend rolled around, you found yourself pulling on one of Ruben’s jerseys. A myriad of emotions spun through your mind. One part of you was blushing and giddy, pride swelling at having his name stretched across your back. The other made fun of you for being so cheesy, it sounded like your own mini subconscious Aki.

Hurry up, I need over-buttered popcorn stat.

You laughed at the text sent by your best friend and then clutched your growling stomach. That did sound like it would hit the spot in your intense ovulation cravings. Your purse was quickly stuffed with its essentials before you dashed down to the garage to meet her.

As tempting as it was to poke fun at her wearing a sky blue jersey of her own, although not sporting a name on the back, you kept it inside. She might’ve been the master at heckling, but couldn’t take a jab when she was expressing a bit of vulnerability in her own way.

Cindy was bouncing excitedly when Aki pulled up to load her into the car. She mentioned that she was in fact seeing John and that they were taking things slow. It was her first time attending a game as well, which also added to your reasons for finally mustering up the courage.

Settling into the stadium was a breeze. If there was one thing you wouldn’t complain about that your girlfriend status brought you, it was gonna be the VIP treatment. Aki finally got her popcorn (which you raided), Cindy was joining in with the crowd’s chants and you were busy keeping your eyes peeled for Ruben.

They spotted him as he emerged from the tunnel for team warmups. You blamed your upcoming period for the wetness gathering in your tear ducts. It was just such a full circle moment to be here, seeing him do the thing he’d always wanted to. You cursed yourself for letting your mind overthink and keep you away for so long.

Ruben was completely focused on hyping himself and his teammates up. To be honest, you were getting kind of jealous. Did he forget that you were coming today? Why were they getting all of his attention? You flinched as a stray kernel landed on your forehead.

“No long faces!” Aki did a gesture that told you to smile.

Luckily, you didn’t have to force one on her account. It seemed like her playing it cool act was out of the window then. She was very superstitious when it came to matches. No one was allowed to be negative - not even badmouthing the opponents, should karma be swift - until the final whistle blew.

Your smile turned into a full on beam once warmups were done and Ruben found you. He waved happily, blowing you a kiss to add to the collection in your pocket. It put you at ease enough to recline in your seat until the team came back out for the match start.

Ruben looked…so fucking good. Your gaze found itself falling into his strong arms and back, that jersey of his really doing him every favor possible in emphasizing his best features. Then there were those long, lean legs of his. And his firm ass -

Another popcorn kernel, judgmental glare on the other side of it. “Don’t make that face either.”

You untucked your bottom lip from your teeth and pulled at the neck of your shirt as you mentally smacked yourself. Trying to not fall into some jazzy background music, heavy sigh sound effect riddled daydream about Ruben was easier said than done.

Football was a fun sport, but it was personally not the most entertaining. You were only invested where he was involved. As long as he played to his standard, stayed healthy and won, you were a happy camper. When things didn’t go so well, you were there to be his shoulder to lean on.

Thankfully, the current match seemed to be going in City’s favor. The ball stayed mostly in the opposition’s half, but on the odd chance that it wandered to the home team’s back line, Ruben or John were there to snuff out any threat. Your mini erotic fantasies nearly returned when he made a clean sliding tackle. How did he manage to move so gracefully while literally throwing his body to the floor?

You shook your head to snap out of it just as the final whistle blew. Cindy and Aki stood to their feet, their arms pulling you into a hug that ended in your small huddle jumping together. It was refreshing to be with the girls outside of the office, and you had a sneaking suspicion that match days would be a regular for you three moving forward.

“We’re gonna grab some pints at a nearby pub, you in?” Aki did a shimmy.

“I have plans.” Your face scrunched, response earning you a round of boo’s. “I’ll be there next time and I’ll even pick up the tab for missing out tonight!”

“No taking that back, you know?” Cindy pointed.

You swore you would do no such thing before sending them on their merry way. They skipped happily, probably already contemplating how much damage they were going to do to your poor debit card.

Ruben texted you instructions on how to get to the player’s car park. The pass you had around your neck allowed you to navigate without being stopped or questioned. You were pretty sure that security knew what the player’s partners looked like though. Or rather, you were certain Ruben had shown them a photo of you at least. There were a few extra warm smiles aimed at you as you made your way around back.

“Perfect timing.” Ruben’s voice sounded from behind.

You spun around to see him closing the gap between you two. His arms circled your body as your chin tilted upwards, lips pursing in search for his own. He chuckled and met your request with a firm peck.

“I understand why you have so many obsessed fans now.” You sighed.

“Stop!” Ruben gasped, taking your hand in his.

“Okay, but seriously.” You laced your fingers together. “Watching you play was mesmerizing, awe inspiring, everything of the sort. I’ve never been prouder.”

Reducing him to blushing was one of your favorite things to do, especially because it was so hard to achieve. He was normally the one dealing out the sweet words that had you mentally kicking your feet. This time around though, you promised yourself that you’d return the favor of much as possible.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Ruben kissed your forehead and then your lips again.

You sank into the passenger seat after he opened the door for you to slide in. He ran around to his side and started up the car to get your seat warmer on. The nights were still a bit unforgiving despite the days not being too miserable anymore.

Ruben’s eyes kept darting to your torso. You thought that you were maybe painting him with your own brush when you caught him the first few times, but when his tongue darted to the corner of his lips, you were validated. He was definitely playing his own version of a sensual montage in his head.

“Careful, you might start drooling.” You warned playfully.

His deep laugh slipped out. “I can’t help it! You look so good in that.”

“Do I?” You bit your finger. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to cook breakfast in nothing but your jersey…”

That made him pick up the pace. A drive that already wasn’t too lengthy, the stadium visible from his balcony and all, went by even quicker than usual with your tempting words replaying in a loop in his mind.

Your lips were claimed by Ruben as soon as you both crossed his threshold. It was a desperate and dizzying kiss that spelled out the need to show you everything he’d imagined doing to you earlier. The same energy was returned, if not more so, from your end. You cupped the back of his head, tongue grinding against his urgently.

“I wanna ask you something.” He rasped after you pulled back.

“Ask later,” Your head shook as you dropped to your knees and tugged at his joggers. “This first…”

Any protest he might’ve had subsided rather easily with your hand wrapped around his cock. Ruben groaned, brows pinching at the sight of you knelt before him. You opened your mouth wide and took him as deeply as you could without pause.

That was the kind of mood you were in tonight. All you wanted to do was taste him, take him, make him feel so good that he begged you to stop - or not. Ruben saw it in your eyes that looked up innocently. A startling contrast to the lewd noises his length made while prodding into your throat.

You came up gasping for air. It was a rather quick intermission, your lips skimming along the side of his dick while your jerked him off slightly. You kissed his leaking tip and then you were sucking him off to the point of gagging once again.

“Fuck you’re so pretty like that, baby.” He ran his fingers through your hair. “Can you handle some more?”

You nodded rapidly, begging for him to use your mouth the way you knew he was hoping to from the moment you fell to your knees. Ruben’s palm rested flat against the back of your head before he pushed it forward slowly.

He had you locked in place, there was no way for you to retreat without him releasing you first. You hummed around his cock, relaxing your throat for him. Ruben bared his teeth as he moved his hips back and forth.

Hot tears ran down your cheeks while he fucked your face. You held out for as long as you could, fingernails biting into your palms to help your focus. If he wanted to see who would break first, you were hellbent on making it a very tortuous experience for him.

Your tongue flattened even more, spreading along the back of his cock and sliding side to side across the large vein. Just as you began to curl it slightly, Ruben yanked you off of him and back to your feet.

“Trying to make me cum?” He murmured.

“That’s typically the point of giving head, Gato.” You taunted.

It was a ploy to continue receiving this same version of your boyfriend. He could save the loving and romantic side of himself for the inevitable second round. Right now, you just wanted to be used by him until you were aching.

Ruben spun you around and bent you over the kitchen counter. You bit your lips as he made quick work of getting rid of your trousers and panties, arching your back so that he could see your soaking cunt.

“You’re lucky I need you so bad right now.” Ruben leaned over your body, nibbling your ear.

One of his hands slipped between your thighs to rub your clit in painfully languid circles. You pressed against him with a drawn out moan, eyes fluttering shut. Your hips had barely picked up the rhythm of his fingers before he pulled them away.

“Ru-“

The rest of his name was cut off by a sharp inhale. He had thrusted fully into you, quickly and powerfully. Your walls trembled with the shock and only began to relax when he slowly started to rock his hips into yours.

Your hands searched blindly for something, anything to grip onto while your pussy got the same treatment that your mouth did earlier. They settled for the other edge of the counter, arms stretched above your head. Ruben found a steady pace with ease, going so deep every time he bottomed out that he had you on your tippy toes.

“Where you going, hm?” He circled your waist, pulling you flush against him.

Something between a laugh and a mewl left your mouth, “Fuck you.”

How was it that every time you made a plan to overwhelm him, it always backfired? Okay, it was definitely your fault that things didn’t play out the way you hoped on this occasion. You shouldn’t have riled him up, much less when he still had residual adrenaline pumping from his match.

You certainly weren’t complaining, though. Ruben had you a shaking mess in his hold in no time. You let your cries out, some floating into the air and the rest of them swallowed by him. Your legs turned to jello and were all but useless until you felt a hand come down hard on your ass.

“Shit!” You whimpered.

“Keep these open nice and wide for me.” Ruben chuckled.

He actually didn’t leave you much of a choice. One of your legs was lifted, bent knee propping up onto the counter. You muttered something about him just taking the piss at that point, your head dropping back to rest on his shoulder.

It felt like he was everywhere all at once. A hand toying with one of your swollen nipples, the other swiping some of your slick from your soaking core before two fingers dipped into your mouth. All while he fucked your cum back into you until his own was released, so much that you felt a hot trail run down your inner thigh.

Before even more mess was made in his kitchen, you both scurried over to the bathroom for a quick shower. He sat on the bench while you perched on his lap to wash his hair. Once you were done, you closed your eyes to let him do the same.

“That mouth of yours is…” Ruben shook his head.

“Hmm, let me guess.” You snuggled into the pillow. “It’s your favorite?”

His teeth softly sank into the back of your thigh and you yelped. The sweet version of him was back. He was so concerned that he was a bit too rough earlier. It lead him to kiss up your legs and back as you lied on your stomach.

“And people think I’m the cocky one.” Ruben nuzzled his face in your neck.

You couldn’t help breaking out into laughter. Not because his words were that hilarious, but because his beard was making the gesture tickle. You wiggled around to face him and cupped his cheeks.

God, he was so beautiful. Your fingers connected random lines between his freckles, ran down the length of his nose and traced the shape of his mouth. You’d never get tired of him watching as you marveled in his features.

“Oh!” You gasped. “What did you want to ask me earlier?”

Ruben peeled himself from your hold and disappeared out into the main living area. You sat up, bunching the sheets around your naked body in an attempt to replicate the warmth you’d just lost.

“Close your eyes.” He poked his head back into the room.

Unlike seemingly a lot of people, you loved surprises. There was just something so sweet about someone wanting to do an act or provide a gift, no matter how big or small, that would make their loved one happy.

You did as you were told and let your other senses take over. Ruben’s footsteps came closer until they seized, the bed sinking under his weight again. He took one of your hands in his, quickly placed a slightly sticky object into your palm and wrapped your fingers around it to form a fist.

“Okay, you can open them.” He whispered.

Your left eyelid lifted slowly and then your right. The hand resting in his own remained folded, shaking. It was obviously what your mind deduced it be to based on the size and feel, but seeing it was going to leave you even more wordless than you already were.

You let your fingers spread to reveal a ring.

Not just any engagement piece that was trending or gaudy, but one that held special meaning. You were taken back to the moment you were making vision boards with him on New Year’s in 2017. The company logo you wanted to intern with, pictures of southern Italy and your dream designer shoes made the cut.

What interested Ruben the most was the image of a ring. It wasn’t the most extravagant thing in the world, just a simple but elegant cut of your birthstone surrounded by tiny diamonds. You remembered blushing furiously, making light of its presence on your vision board by saying a girl can dream…

The exact ring was now sitting in the palm of your hand seven years later. It made you wonder if he had it this entire time, if he had gotten it shortly after that day and was waiting for the right moment that year to propose.

“I’ve never pictured my life with anyone but you. At each turn, in every corner of my mind and my heart, I always find you, Y/N.” Ruben stroked your wrist. “This might be sudden, but I just had to ask since I’ve been meaning to for so long.”

He confirmed what you were thinking, making your eyes weld with tears. On top of everything, he carried the additional burden and pain of being robbed of the chance to do this back then.

“What are you waiting for then?” You sniffed. “Ask me.”

Ruben took the ring and held it up, “Will you let me call you mine, forever?”

A laugh broke through your tears. You stuck your left hand out, wiggling your fingers in anticipation. It didn’t shock you that the ring fit perfectly given that your size hadn’t changed. Your ring finger moved up and down, testing the weight of its newest addition. It felt good, right. You grinned.

“Is that a yes?” His thumb ran along your knuckles.

“Yes,” You opened your arms. “Come here.”

Ruben pounced on you, kissing you all over. You surrendered to his seemingly never-ending pecks and compliments. You let go of past anger, hurt and miscommunication. Instead, you opened yourself up to make room for everything that was to come.

All of the moments that would make you proud to call Ruben yours. Forever.

#ruben dias x you #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias #being

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cgtg · 23 hours

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Do you have an opinion on all the beta trolls? Or dancestorssss

hmm, i havent gotten 2 the dancestors yet on my reread (srry 2 da other person that asked abt them, i was saving the ask til i got there but ive been slow reading lately...)

this is probably all stuff other ppl have said before but its my opinion & im just living my reality here ok

thank u for asking :J

i think the dancestors r a perfect example of how hussie's character-creating method of "lampoon on an annoying/weird internet archetype" can fall completely flat. i really do not like any of them, and the ones i don't actively dislike i feel nothing about.

i think part of its jusdt that i always got the sense that hussie also did'nt give a shit about any of them beyond making the jokes he wanted to make (aside from meenah and aranea, who i also just really didnt care about anyways haha). pretty much every homestuck character is about making a joke, but the best characters all get the breathing room to develop *actual* personalities and value beyond watever theyre icons of yk?

so incidentally the worst of the beta trolls tend to be the ones where hussie just didnt, for watevr reason they had, explore them in a meaningful or earnest way.

its fine to have charzcters that are just made to do a bit, & its beyond fine that not every character is as fleshed out as the others, i think that woul;dve officially caused hussie 2 go off da deep end. hahah. but yeah i just couldnt get myself 2 give a shit about them if i tried at all. & im not even getting into the shit they're actually harping on & how that affects my view of them (read: badly)

these opinions will prbly change/develop whenever i get to that point in the story again, but i rly doubt ill feel more than "nothing" abt any of those dancestors

#qna

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mcytscienceside · 2 days

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what kind of infection are these guys facing? Is it a classic zombie virus or something else entirely? Is there anyone so far who is completely gone?

Love the art, by the way

Ty so much for the question!! :D Happy to see people interested in this au!! @gearstorm actually has written up a whole document describing the infection from Pix's pov! I'll put the first part here but if anyone wants more information surrounding infection levels and the strange glitch itself it will be under the read more! --- Glitch Infection Journal Section 2; The glitch By Pixlriffs

Entry #1 stages, symptoms and tracking

It would be good to keep written documentation of what we refer to by many names, but mostly the glitch infection. Because we don't know where it came from, or why, or even how it works beyond observation.

This ‘infection’ is a glitch that gets into the very core of a player's being and changes their mental and emotional state, only affecting the physical appearance slightly in late stages. We initially thought that those without symptoms were glitch free but using my watcher powers, I've taught myself and Mumbo how to see the infectious code separate from the player code it infects. And now we know that we all have it, but early stages are asymptomatic, treatable but not curable yet, and thankfully not yet contagious. Unfortunately it is also imperceivable without looking directly at the player's code, which is why it's so important that I maintain constant watch of the others with my powers.

I have made a scale to refer to it with. Who had it first and how they got it to the point of being contagious is unknown as most of the server had it by the time we were aware of it.

A scale of 1-10, here is what each number means.

0, no one but Hermes is completely clean of the virus. He was lucky enough to not go near anyone who was infected to the point of being contagious when this started and has been kept safe since.

1-2, the infection is treatable. It will never go down to 0 unless we find a cure, but it will only go up when around those at 4 or higher and go down with isolation from those whom are contagious. Though it seems other factors affect this. I have no definitive proof, but the current hypothesis towards it is your physical health has something to do with it. Supporting this, is I have been sitting at 2 for some time now without going down but I am also recovering from severe injuries. Meanwhile Joel is suffering in the mental health department but his levels go from 1.5 to 1 at the same rate as Oli who is better off then both of us.

3-3.5, you have gone past the point of natural recovery. I have yet the chance to observe if 2.5 is too far but do not wish to test it. This is when you'd first notice something is wrong, Shelby having been able to tell without my Sight, but it is subtle according to her. Like a slight itch or pinching in your chest. Easily missable if you weren't paying attention for it. You are unlikely to experience changes to personality at this stage and are not contagious. But your infection will now increase no matter what you do. Proximity to those who are contagious affecting the speed of your own level of infection at this stage remains untested.

4-5, early stages of the infection taking noticeable effect. You are now contagious. Your sanity decreases quickly and significantly, personality changes leading to inability to express empathy and masochistic behavior, and slips of memory occur frequently. As well as violent urges but these seem slightly less common depending on will power. Not being aware you are infected greatly increases vulnerability to these urges.

6-7, Most infected at this stage are unable to recognize bonds and connections to other players, exceptions occurring when the connection was built during early stages of sanity lost in which case they seem to become dependent on each other willing to do anything to protect what little they now hold dear. Players act in cruel and violent ways they never would have done before they got infected, such as building deadly traps and attacking one another on sight. Screaming matches, psychological manipulation, and violent attempts to protect their perceived territory are common.

8-9, all previously mentioned behaviors become even worse. Conversation only occurs when the infected is trying to manipulate you or harm you emotionally or mentally. Depending on what behaviors they have developed as forms of violence, they are likely to try to capture you either for crossing territory, being perceived as a threat, or in worst cases simply for being seen. And will not hesitate to torture you how they see fit when they have you. Their memories seem to become selective at this point, falling to madness and only knowing lust for violence and torment.

10, the only one so far I've seen at 10 is Jimmy. But opposite to Joel's Lore powers, Jimmy is connected to the powers of Law. The order of the world. Truthfully I do not know the extent of his power, but what I do know is the server is sick. Joel tells me Jimmy is likely reflecting the world itself rather than being infected the same way the others are. Fortunately, the world itself does not seem to count as being near contagious stage infection. Unfortunately, Jimmy himself is still contagious. Learned the hard way when we lost Shelby. He acts the most cruel of all the infected server members. I hope that when we find a cure, he doesn't remember what he's done. I don't blame him for what happened and don't want to see him blame himself.

#mcyt #empires smp #hermitcraft #empires smp s2 #pixlriffs #smallishbeans #oli orionsound #shubble #solidaritygaming #mumbo jumbo #mcyt infection au

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jaimexbrienne-fic-finder · 10 hours

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Wedding

May is Wedding month, so here are stories about weddings! Some are only about a wedding, some just have a bigger part about a wedding. There are lots more I can't remember right now, if I think of many more there will be a part 2!

Found Wanting by dreadwulf

Brienne is still convinced that the entire affair is a joke on her. Surely there is a real bride somewhere in the castle, who will be brought out once the crowd has had a good laugh at the cow in a satin gown. When she said as much to her intended, he said it was surely a joke on them both. Let them laugh, he said. What’s funnier is that Queen Daenerys made the match in the first place – she must have thought them intolerable to one another. The Beauty and the Kingslayer. Surely Brienne could see the humor in it?

Something Drastic by bearsofair

Brienne ducks out of a wedding reception early. Her "date" comes looking for her.

the battlefield between us (isn't here tonight) by robotsdance

“I missed you, ” Brienne says like she’s admitting something else, and Jaime wants to say it back to her in exactly the same way: loaded with all of the things they’re not saying. Let that truth settle between them, unsaid but at least somewhat spoken. That could be enough. To share that quiet understanding with Brienne, here, alone together in the middle of the woods, in the middle of a war, in which one of them will be on the losing side. That could be enough. I missed you too.

Brienne would understand.

What Jaime says instead is “Marry me.”

The Lion, the Wench, and the Wardrobe Trailer by GilShalos1

Jaime Lannister’s entire acting career has been built on playing reckless cads and heartless villains – ever since a scandalous death on his first film, Kingslayer, was quickly hushed up at his father’s behest. Nearly fifteen years later, acclaimed director Olenna Tyrell has announced her retirement: after one last film, Oathkeeper, inspired by the mythic story of the Long Night. She wants Jaime to do what he does so well, play into his on-screen persona and off-screen reputation, and be a villain for the ages in her final film. But to make sure his infamous ways don’t interfere with production, she requires his personal assistant to keep him on the straight, narrow and sober. Brienne Tarth, in her first job on a film set, finds herself tasked with keeping the impossible Jaime Lannister under control …

Something Blue by Aviss

Jaime Lannister was a wedding planner, though he sometimes missed his old job where he was actually allowed to kill people. Ten minutes with his latest clients and he was already convinced they should not get married. He wasn't a marriage counsellor though, he wasn't invested in this Hunt and Tarth wedding beyond the planning of the ceremony.

Never A Bride by CourtingDisaster

(Modern AU) Wedding bells are ringing in Westeros. After an unpleasant first meeting, Brienne and Jaime find themselves being thrown together over and over as their friends and family marry off. After all, as Tyrion likes to point out, there really aren't any other groomsmen tall enough to escort everyone's favorite bridesmaid...

Over the course of several weddings and receptions, Brienne and Jaime form a sort of truce, perhaps they even become friends. But Brienne isn't going to let the atmosphere of romance carry her away, no matter how handsome Jaime is...is she?

Vows by theworldunseen

Jaime Lannister profiles the most interesting and romantic weddings in the country for his super popular blog, The only problem? His own heart has been stomped on, and it might have ruined weddings for him forever. When he finds out about a woman who’s going to be in her twenty-seventh wedding party, he thinks writing about her might be his way back to loving weddings. But Brienne Tarth isn’t anything he ever expected.

What happens in Sunspear (doesn't) stay in Sunspear Series by Luthien

Brienne wakes up the morning after a night on the town in Vegas Sunspear, with unexpected company in her bed - and that's just the first surprising discovery she makes.

My Best Friend's Wedding by wildlingoftarth

A desperate Brienne hires a “professional party date” to accompany her to Renly’s wedding on Tarth. It’s just a weekend – what could go wrong?

so keep me close. by SeeThemFlying

Brienne pines for her husband, Jaime, who she is convinced is not madly in love with her.

#jaime x brienne #braime

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rubenesque-as-fuck · 1 year

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Worried that eventually I'm gonna get so stupid lonely and touchstarved that I'm gonna end up posting a sad personals ad on Fetlife or something ughhh 😫

#and immediately regret it of course #lonely touchstarved idiot brain #i used to fuck so much out of desperation to prove to myself that I was desirable #but it just made me feel worse to know that I ultimately had no value beyond being a wet hole to those hookups #feeling pathetic because I'm in love with someone who doesn't feel the same and probably never will so how do I get beyond that?#i am so tied of being alone and unloved and it feels like I am completely unlovable in a romantic context #which is maddening because it also feels like it's financially impossible to build a real life without a partner #so I'm just here unloved unfucked and unfulfilled with no hope of ever having a stable life #no family for me to lean on and all of my friends are in solid relationships of their own and happily building lives together #so how long until i give up and just go back to taking whatever scraps of physical contact I can get to feel something?#kinda hope I get hit by a bus before I get to that point honestly

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transgenderfivepebbles · 1 year

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clawing at the walls

#ramblings #there was Literally No Spring this year it was winter and now it's going to hit 27 degrees today #why. what the hell happened #i mean i know exactly why but. you know #vent in tags beyond this point proceed with caution ->#it's just. what is there to do. what is there to say that hasn't been said already. what is there to say that anyone will listen to #no one says anything about it. do they notice? do they care? do they think they're alone like me?#i see blackbirds and juncos together now. summer and winter blending into one. it scares me and no one else #i get what he was saying now. i'm tired of trying and trying. and angry that they left us here #and afraid that there'll be nothing left for me. and sad for what's already been lost #i wish i could fight. i wish i could do something the way all of you do #and yet i'm too paralyzed by my own emotions to even say anything. what's my problem #i wasn't made for this #i just want to know i'll be able to live #is that too much to ask #i'm. going through it. don't look at me

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thymewayster · 1 year

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Really good Twitter thread originally about Elon Musk and Twitter, but also applies to Netflix and a lot of other corporations.

Full thread. Text transcription under cut.

John Bull @garius

One of the things I occasionally get paid to do by companies/execs is to tell them why everything seemed to SUDDENLY go wrong, and subs/readers dropped like a stone. So, with everything going on at Twitter rn, time for a thread about the Trust Thermocline /1

So: what's a thermocline?

Well large bodies of water are made of layers of differing temperatures. Like a layer cake. The top bit is where all the the waves happen and has a gradually decreasing temperature. Then SUDDENLY there's a point where it gets super-cold.

That suddenly is important. There's reasons for it (Science!) but it's just a good metaphor. Indeed you may also be interested in the "Thermocline of Truth" which a project management term for how things on a RAG board all suddenly go from amber to red.

But I digress. The Trust Thermocline is something that, over (many) years of digital, I have seen both digital and regular content publishers hit time and time again. Despite warnings (at least when I've worked there). And it has a similar effect. You have lots of users then suddenly... nope. And this does effect print publications as much as trendy digital media companies. They'll be flying along making loads of money, with lots of users/readers, rolling out new products that get bought. Or events. Or Sub-brands.

And then SUDDENLY those people just abandon them. Often it's not even to "new" competitor products, but stuff they thought were already not a threat. Nor is there lots of obvious dissatisfaction reported from sales and marketing (other than general grumbling). Nor is it a general drift away, it's just a sudden big slide. So why does this happen? As I explain to these people and places, it's because they breached the Trust Thermocline.

I ask them if they'd been increasing prices. Changed service offerings. Modified the product.

The answer is normally: "yes, but not much. And everyone still paid" Then I ask if they did that the year before. Did they increase prices last year? Change the offering? Modify the product?

Again: "yes, but not much."

The answer is normally: "yes, but not much. And everyone still paid." "And the year before?"

"Yes but not much. And everyone still paid."

Well, you get the idea. And here is where the Trust Thermocline kicks in. Because too many people see service use as always following an arc. They think that as long as usage is ticking up, they can do what they like to cost and product.

And (critically) that they can just react when the curve flattens But with a lot of CONTENT products (inc social media) that's not actually how it works. Because it doesn't account for sunk-cost lock-in.

Users and readers will stick to what they know, and use, well beyond the point where they START to lose trust in it. And you won't see that. But they'll only MOVE when they hit the Trust Thermocline. The point where their lack of trust in the product to meet their needs, and the emotional investment they'd made in it, have finally been outweighed by the physical and emotional effort required to abandon it. At this point, I normally get asked something like:

"So if we undo the last few changes and drop the price, we get them back?"

And then I have to break the news that nope: that's not how it works.

Because you're past the Thermocline now. You can't make them trust you again.

#netflix #twitter #economics #corporations #social media

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inkskinned · 1 year

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probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

#this is true #writeblr #warm up #relatedly for some reason one of our Favorite Jokes #amongst the Siblings #is like - ''this is so good u will love it''#while we are reacting to something we OBVIOUSLY find viscerally disgusting #like we will be actively retching and be like ''nooooo it's so good''#to the point that i sometimes get nervous if someone outside my family is like oh u should try it its good #(obvi we never force each other to eat anything. we are all just curious birds and #like. we're GONNA try the new thing.)#edit to answer why we had so much vanilla:#my mom is a very good cook and we LOVE to bake. so she just had a lot of staples in the house.#it's one of those things that's like. have u ever continuously thought ''ah i should get butter im probably out''#even tho u are not out of butter. so u end up with like 5 years of butter.#my mom would do that in a costco but like with vanilla extract #to be fair we WERE always using WAY TOO MUCH bc we were kids #so like she was right to stock up #ps. yes we were VERY sick after this lol i just didn't want to include it in the post in case ppl had an ick about that #u can tell it's real bc we knew "oh no we fucked up that's too much vanilla to waste'' but our reaction was to just. keep drinking it #> sibling understanding that vanilla extract isn't free > knowledge mother doesnt mind if we use it for milkshakes #> sibling choice to maybe get in a loophole of ''not wasting it'' if we drink it bc that's the same as using it (not throwing it out)#listen bud i was like 13 and my sister was like 9 #when my mom discovered this we. got in. A LOT. of trouble. a lot of it. a LOT of it.#3rd edit bc i guess it isn't clear - i am 1 of my brother's 2 little sisters #i am the middle child #out of all the ways i have had to explain a post before being like ''did u forget a middle child can happen'' is my favorite

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yandere-daydreams · 3 months

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Title: Ferine.

Pairing: Yandere!Toji x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 4.1k.

TW: Hybrid AU, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Slight Manipulation, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Knotting, Mentions of Blood + Violence, Slight Breeding, and Biting.

Toji was, by far, the largest hybrid you’d ever taken care of.

Which, technically speaking, wasn’t that big of an accomplishment. This was barely your third month at the research facility, and you could count the number of hybrids you’d encountered before being hired here on a single hand. Still, even compared to the other wolves you currently looked after, Toji was beyond impressive. His long, pointed ears and stocky build set him well above six-foot, and even if he’d lacked height, he would’ve been able to make up for it with the planes of sculpted muscle circled around his biceps and thighs, laid over his chest and back. Top it all off with a set of claws each longer than your pointer finger and sharp enough to pierce reinforced steel, and he was practically fit for exhibit. Not that Toji could ever actually be a show dog, no – he’d tear the judges apart before they’d so much as heard his name. He was sweet, but he had a temper. You had to be careful not to set him off.

His fangs were impressive, too – perfectly in-tact despite years of less-than-adequate care, only a touch duller than a real wolf’s. You were careful not to let your hand stray from where it cupped his cheek as you looked for signs of damage or rot only to, of course, come up empty. The longer you spent with him, the more convinced you were that nothing could actually hurt Toji, even if the faded scar stitched into the corner of his mouth suggested otherwise.

“All done,” you started, letting go of his cheek. Immediately, Toji’s jaw snapped shut with enough strength to take off a finger, had you given him the chance. “Perfect as always, Toji. I think you might be my best patient.”

A cocky smile found its way to his lips, and you could hear his tail beating lazily against the dirt floor of his enclosure. The facility was committed to replicating the natural environments of their more exotic hybrids as closely as possible, even if Toji claimed he’d trade it all for a punching bag, or better yet, something ‘real’ to dig his teeth into, whatever that meant. “Do I get a treat, doc?”

It was asked playfully, but still, you hummed by way of confirmation, pulling your duffle bag into your lap and fishing Toji’s well-earned rewards – a generic chocolate bar and a can of some painfully acidic, sickeningly sweet brand of soda your hybrid patients couldn’t seem to get enough of. It was a meager prize, but it was as much as you were able to spare considering how strict his caretakers were when it came to his diet. You’d probably save yourself a few dirty looks if you didn’t give him anything at all, but it didn’t feel right to leave him empty-handed.

He accepted your humble offering greedily. While the chocolate bar was stowed away for later consumption, the can was pierced with a clawed thumb and emptied in one long, unpleasantly audible swig. You’d only started to push yourself to your feet when Tojj finished, letting the now empty can fall to the ground before turning his attention back to you. “It hurts my feelings, knowing you’re just gonna run off and put your hands on another animal.” His ear pressed flat against his scalp, as if he was trying (and failing) to feign disappointment. “If I didn’t know better, I’d start to think you didn’t really care about all the time we’ve spent together.”

“You’re not exactly in desperate need of medical attention,” you chided, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “And I’m on a schedule. Not all of us can sit around, grooming ourselves all day.”

That earned a breathy laugh, a coy lilt to his smile. “Well, if you wanted to take a shot at it, I wouldn’t—”

“Save it. I get enough of that with the cats.” Just thinking about it made you grimace. It was one thing to think that Toji might bite you. Knowing Satoru and Suguru – the bonded leopard and panther pair who shared a check-up date with Toji – would insist on licking any exposed skin raw before letting you do your job was a much more tangible reality. “I’ll see you in a couple of days. You’ll be good until then, right?”

“I’m gonna gut those fucking strays.” His answer was blunt, immediate, but he cracked as soon you shot him a purse-lipped frown. “Kidding, kidding. I’ll just rough ‘em up a little – make ‘em regret putting their paws on you, y’know?”

You couldn’t help but soften. Toji was rough around the edges, but he wasn’t a bad dog. He just had a protective streak and that, paired with his brash personality and tendency to bite before he barked, was enough for most people to write him off.

You really did have a long, long list of other appointments you had to get to before the end of the day, but against your better judgement, you paused as you passed him, reaching down to rake your fingers through sleek black hair. He was stoic, especially for a hybrid, but even his cool, dark eyes and wry smile couldn’t hide the way his tail moved just a little faster at the feeling of your nails raking over his scalp, his ears immediately perking up. It only took a second for him to bat your hand away, but you only laughed as you started towards the staff exit, waving to Toji over your shoulder.

Maybe, for his next check-up, you’d see if you could sneak in something special.

“Your mutt’s been unruly, lately.”

You glanced up from your clipboard, turning your full attention to Nanami and quickly finding that he hadn’t paid you the same courtesy. He was one of the senior researchers and, so far, the only one you could stand to be around for any longer than a few minutes. Since the higher-ups expected you to fill out your reports with one hand while you took a four-hundred-pound tiger’s temperature with the other, you tended to camp out in Nanami’s office when you had paperwork to file. “Toji?” Nanami nodded, and you rolled your eyes. “I’m just the vet, Kento. If his handlers aren’t doing their—”

“The problem isn’t his handlers, it’s him.”

His voice was flat, his tone icy. You laid your clipboard over your lap, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s an animal. It’d be more out of character if he didn’t lash out occasionally.”

Nanami opened his mouth, but closed it just as quickly. After a lengthy pause, he leaned back in his seat, bringing a hand to his temples and massaging absentmindedly. “Do you know why he hasn’t been released back into the wild, yet?”

Obviously. Working with hybrids – let alone exotic hybrids – was dangerous, and your debriefing had drilled the face, name, and background of every animal in the facility into your memory. “He was born in captivity. He’s too acclimated to human society to adjust to the wilderness.”

Nanami pressed his lips into a thin line – an expression you’d learned to read as ‘you’re right, but I’m not going to say that’. Still, a degree of satisfaction accompanied his silent confirmation. “He was found in a dog fighting ring – or, what was left of one, at least. It took three rounds of sedation and two broken muzzles before our recovery team was able to get him under control.”

A knot formed at the base of your throat. Fuck chocolate, Toji deserved a blanket and as many hugs as he would let you give him. “That’s terrible, Kento. Were the organizers arrested?”

“The organizers—” Nanami straightened. “—were found mauled and stuffed into a kennel. Their bodies were so thoroughly mutilated, we had to rely on blood samples to identify them.”

“Wolves aren’t known for attacking unprovoked. It could’ve been another—”

“One of his handlers is currently hospitalized,” Nanami went on, as if you hadn’t cut in. “And two have already turned in their resignations – a resounding fear for their welfare in the workplace, supposedly.”

Your eyes fell to the floor, and that knot in your throat tightened until only the barest whisper could find its way out. “He’s not a bad dog,” you muttered, nearly under your breath. “He just— He loses his temper, sometimes. He doesn’t mean to hurt anymore.”

“He’s never tried to hurt you?”

You didn’t have to think before shaking your head. “Never.”

That, of all things, seemed to catch Nanami’s attention. For the first time, his eyes flickered briefly to you before falling back to his desk, his paperwork. “Good,” he said, marking down something on a piece of scrap paper in front of him. If he felt the need to elaborate, he clearly didn’t deem it worth the effort.

Later that day, you were informed that you were being transferred to the reptile wing indefinitely. If you’d been there for a few more months, if you’d had a little more experience to throw around, if you’d had a little more authority, you might’ve protested, but it was all you could do to nod and set to memorizing your new schedule.

It took exactly three weeks for you to see Toji again.

One of his handlers – a woman in her early twenties sporting a pressed scowl and a gauze-padded bandage on her cheek – met you at the facility’s gates and flatly told you that Toji was injured. You’d never been in the facilities (much less with a hybrid) after sundown, and in the simulated wilderness of his enclosure, it was easy to forget that you were never more than twenty feet away from a security camera, that there was only one apex predator you had to be afraid of. After checking your usual meeting spot (clear spot near the center of his enclosure – neutral territory, safe territory) and finding it vacant, you reluctantly stumbled your way to his den, dragging your feet despite the urgency of the situation. Toji wouldn’t deliberately attack you, but any animal could react if provoked. You didn’t want to set him off. More importantly, you didn’t want to prove Nanami right.

You’d never ventured far enough to see his den, but you knew what to expect. A square shell of cement occupied the deepest corner of Toji’s enclosure, bracketed off by a metal door tucked inside of a deep entryway meant to give the illusion of privacy. You approached it slowly, stepping underneath the shadowed overhang with no small amount of caution, but you didn’t get the chance to knock before a hand manifested on your shoulder and shoved you against the cold steel.

Claws bit into to the dip of your shoulder, then your wrist, too, as he caught your hand and shoved it into the small of your back. You felt hot air on the nape of your neck, heard heavy panting laced with the barest trace of a throaty growl, and it took everything you had not to panic, not to struggle, not to give him a reason to dig his teeth into your neck and tear. Toji wasn’t a bad dog, but he was still a dog. He’d still bite, if given an excuse.

“Toji,” you started, slowly, taking care to soften each harsh syllable of his name. “I’m here to help you.”

He didn’t respond, his hold only tightening. His check pressed into your back, and there was a short, airy noise – sniffing, as little as you wanted to put a name to it. “Toji,” you repeated, with more urgency. “I heard you were hurt. Will you let me help you?”

A second passed in silence, then another. Finally, he pulled away from you, releasing your wrist first, then your shoulder. He remained where he was – a little too close, a little too looming – as you shuffled to face him, forcing yourself not to consciously acknowledge that you were in a very big cage with a very poorly behaved animal. His handlers hadn’t mentioned why they’d needed you, but you didn’t have to wonder for very long. Even in the pitch dark, you could see the dark blood covering his jaw, washed over his throat and chest. It was on his hands, too, coating the white bone of his claws, and matted into his dark hair. Your waning self-control faltered then shattered altogether, your hands shooting to his head, his face, searching for bruising or swelling or broken bones, but surprisingly, all your worry earned was an airy laugh. “It’s not mine, doc.” He laid a hand over yours. “I’m doin’ just fine. Even better, now that you’re here.”

But he wasn’t. Twin sets of puncture marks were littered across his throat, his face, his arms. Something had taken a chunk out of his left bicep, and five matching scratch marks had been etched deep into the skin of his chest. The wounds looked feline, but you couldn’t bring yourself to linger on the implications. “You’re hurt,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your hands fell to his shoulders, pushing him downward gently. “I— I’ve got bandages, and sutures—” You let your bag fall from your shoulder to your elbow, already reaching for the zipper. “Find somewhere to sit. We should get you cleaned up before something worse sets in.”

Panic was quickly overshadowing your better judgement, but Toji didn’t move, didn’t look away from you. He was still wearing that coy, sardonic grin – almost teasing, given your anxiety. “I already told you, I’m just fine.” His smile widened, until his pointed fangs caught in the dim light. “I didn’t think you’d actually come. They said I could ask for whatever I wanted, but—” He paused, sucked in a sharp breath. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“Toji, you’re not making any sense. You need help.” Again, you pushed gently on his shoulders, and again, he didn’t seem to notice. This time, though, he shifted, leaned toward you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You scowled, shoving a little less gently on his chest, but Toji didn’t move. “Toji, please, just let me help—”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” You felt his hands on your waist, then your ass. His chest was slotted against yours, and his tongue ran unabashedly over the curve of your neck once, then twice before he went on. “Keep sayin’ my name like that, and I won’t be able to control myself.”

Something pressed into your thigh – hot and hard and, like the rest of Toji, fucking huge. Your heart fell into your stomach, the air flooding out of your lungs and leaving you dazed, breathless.

Fuck. Fuck.

You should’ve stuck with the fucking reptiles.

Toji was panting audibly, again; his tongue lapping over your neck, your cheek. You were still cursing yourself for ever applying for this shitty job in the first place when Toji fell to his knees, forcing your thighs onto his shoulders as his claws caught on the fabric of your pants, decimating the thin material in an instant. His teeth tore away your panties just as quickly, leaving you exposed, splayed out on a silver platter in front of him. You reacted reflectively – knotting your fingers in his hair and doing your best to pry him away from you, but your strength was nothing compared to his and in the end, all you earned was a throaty groan, a tight squeeze to your ass before he buried his face in your cunt. His teeth grazed against the tender insides of your thighs, his claws biting into your now-unprotected skin, but the feeling of his tongue laving over the length of your slit replaced every other sensation with pure heat.

Predictably, he was near animalistic – his thick tongue fucking into you as the bridge of his nose ground shamelessly into your clit. From a distance, it would’ve been hard to tell if he was trying to eat you out or eat you alive; every noise he made feral and wet, punctuated with rough growls and little, uncharacteristic whines. It would’ve been impossible not to feel anything, but still, you couldn’t help but hate yourself when it started to feel good. His tongue was thick and textured, long enough to fill your pussy and flexible enough to curl inside of you, abusing the walls of your cunt without mercy. It was difficult to tell how much of the gloss staining his chin and the inside of your thighs was his drool and how much of it was your arousal, but even if your mind was disgusted by every slick noise and sharp flick of his tongue, there was nothing your body could do to block out the sudden pang of heat in your core, to fight the way your legs ached to clench around his head and pull the source of your revulsion that much closer.

“To—Toji, no, st—” you tried to say, like you were scolding a normal dog, like any part of you still thought he was listening. A cracked moan cut you off prematurely, and even if it hadn’t, Toji’s only response was a bruising squeeze to your ass, a low moan just loud enough to reverberate against your sensitive clit. Blinding white flashed across your vision, and before you could stop, before you could bring yourself back from that edge, you were coming undone on his tongue, your hips bucking against his face as he nursed you through your mind-numbing climax. Rather than pull away, he forced his tongue that much deeper into your pussy – taking advantage of your hypersensitivity to drag another unwilling orgasm out of you, then another, until the dried blood smeared across his lips was tacky and dripping onto your skin. He only pulled away when your little, pained sounds began to die into half-choked pleas and your limited strength failed, leaning you limp and boneless on top of him, and even then, he took the time to drag his tongue over your slit, to lap up what would’ve been wasted slick. You would’ve given anything for him to just leave you like that – messy and covered in your own arousal, but unfortunately, Toji had never been a bad dog.

His gaze flitted up to meet yours. “Sorry, princess,” he muttered, when he saw the misery knitted into your expression. The broad grin he wore was anything but apologetic, though. “Might’ve gotten carried away after all. Can’t help it – you always come to me, smellin’ like other men, and nobody ever lets me do anything about it.” He nuzzled into the inside of your thigh, nipping at the tender flesh with just enough force to break the skin. There was a tight pinch, of bright spark of pain, but Toji tended to the minimal wound lovingly, running his tongue over the thin stream of blood. “Gonna have you nice n’ scented by the end of the night.” A sharp whimper slipped past your grit teeth as the points of his fangs grazed over your skin, and Toji sighed. “Gonna have you nice n’ bred, too, if you keep making those sounds.”

Bred. Bred. Bred. You turned the offensive word over in your mind, unable to grasp what it possibly could’ve meant, as Toji carefully lowered you onto the ground – never so much as toying with the idea of fucking you into anything other than the cold, raw earth. It wasn’t until his clawed hand fell to the hard, pulsing cock standing stiffly between his legs that you were able to fully process what he’d said, what he was threatening to do to you. Your thoughts went blank, your years of veterinary school and countless hours of animal-handling training and common sense all dissolving into total nonexistence in an instant. It didn’t matter that he was taller than you, stronger than you – you were already throwing your full weight against him, scratching at his chest with your blunt nails, doing everything in your so incredibly limited power just to get away from him. Your latest wave of resistance wasn’t enough to overwhelm him, but it earned a frustrated rumble at the base of his throat, a downward quirk to his cocky smile. Your nails caught one of the puncture marks on his cheek and, reflexively, he straightened his back, brought his hand to his face, left just enough space between your body and his for you to roll onto your chest and scramble desperately towards freedom. You’d barely gotten your knees underneath you when his hand lashed out, catching you by the collar and forcing your cheek into the soil. His chest pressed into your back, his legs caging yours in on either side, and worst of all, his cock throbbed against your ass – somehow, impossibly, harder than it’d been a few seconds ago. You might’ve jotted it down as an impressive display of canine resilience, if you hadn’t felt so desolated.

“Shoulda figured you wouldn’t make this easy on yourself.” His voice was rougher than it had been, but no less self-satisfied. That made sense. Wolves were endurance predators. He would’ve come into this expecting there to be a struggle. “I thought you’d be more of a mate than a bitch, but—” He paused, his mouth settling against the nape of your neck. “—either’s fine by me.”

You clenched your eyes shut. “Please, Toji, don’t do—”

But, it was already too late. He rutted your ass once, then twice, before his tip caught on the entrance to your abused pussy and he was inside of you, fully sheathed without a trace of resistance.

Toji was big, even for a hybrid. He was a hunter, tried and true, all muscle and agility and pure, unfaltering strength. Even with his generous (albeit, unwelcomed) prep, it was all you could do to convince yourself that his cock wouldn’t tear you apart. He was thick enough to press against every soft and sensitive spot inside of you, long enough to leave a tight knot of pressure sitting in the pit of your stomach, and when he started to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, the force alone was enough to scatter little black spots in the corner of your vision and leave you hazy, light-headed. The way he was fucking into you didn’t help anything, either. Keening whines slipped out of some deep, feral pocket of his chest as he took advantage of your vulnerable cunt, alternating between grinding into you with a desperate sort of clinginess and trying to bully his way that much deeper with bruising, brutal thrusts. One arm wrapped around your midriff, dragging you even close to him, while a groping hand found the delicate buttons of your top and tore, ridding you of what was left of your protection against him. He kneaded half-consciously at your chest as he fucked into you; his own pleasure suddenly his only priority.

His selfishness should’ve been a welcome change, but you were too far gone, your body too eager to find a silver lining to his rough affection. Your hands clawed mindlessly at the ground as he pumped into you, the heat of his body against yours clouding your senses and making the feeling of cock stretching you open, his dull head pounding against your cervix all the more unbearable. You doubted he’d be able to talk, even if he’d had anything left to say, but he was still vocal enough. Raspy groans and harsh grunts rung distantly in your ears, his calloused hands groping mercilessly at your chest, your stomach, your waist. Finally, his thumb found its way to your neglected clit, and with less than a full second of stimulation, you were buckling into yourself, clamping down around his cock with a fractured whimper. As humiliated as you were, Toji wasn’t far behind. With something between a moan and a howl, he was cumming inside of you – predictably making no attempt to pull out. Something hot and vile flooded into you, but it was hard to focus on that when you could feel something hard and bloated and wrong press into your entrance. Toji’s breath hitched as he forced his knot into your tight cunt, and whatever hope you had for coming out of this unscathed curled up and died inside of you.

You could feel him slacken on top of you. You almost thought he would collapse like that, leave you locked to him and trapped under his weight, but instead, he nuzzled against the crook of your neck, his fangs ghosting over your throat before sinking into the soft flesh just underneath your jugular. He stayed like that, his knot splitting open your pussy and his teeth buried in your neck, until you lost any hope of him ever pulling away.

Exhausted, you shut your eyes, sinking into yourself. You’d been right, in a way. Toji wasn’t a bad dog.

He was just a terrible terrible man.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere oneshot #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #yandere jjk #toji x reader #yandere toji #fushiguro toji x reader #yandere fushiguro toji #hybrid au

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appocalipse · 4 months

Text

MAKE IT EASY : ̗̀➛ STEVE HARRINGTON

・❥・part 1・part 2 ❥・3.8k words

Summary: steve asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family dinner. the problem is: after all is said and done, he gives you the cold shoulder. have you done something wrong?

requested by my beloved @stevebabey 🥺

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble, and now, oh well...I had to split it into two parts. here we go.

・❥・

It was the epitome of a terrible idea.

And it had started that day.

The very moment Steve walked into the diner your family owned, you knew something was wrong. Not that it was uncommon for Steve to visit you at work — not at all. In fact, it was almost a weekly occurrence, the highlight of it, in fact, for you; the odd part was that Steve never showed up alone, without at least a few of the kids. On that Wednesday night, he was not only alone but also strangely nervous.

You rarely saw Steve get nervous. His confidence was as much a part of him as his signature perfect hair. But tonight, his hands fidgeted with the edge of his jacket, eyes darting around the diner as if searching for an escape route. He looked like he was trying to convince himself to leave.

Weird.

"Steve," you greeted him with a warm smile, hoping to ease his obvious tension a little bit as he approached the counter. "You look like you've seen a Demogorgon."

It was supposed to be a joke. You only felt comfortable saying that now because — luckily — things had been quiet at Hawkins. It had been a long time since you and your friends had to deal with one. But something about Steve's demeanor really made you wonder if there was more to this visit than just a friendly catch-up.

He tried for a convincing chuckle, but it came out tinged with a hint of sadness instead. "I wish," he said, and then quickly shook his head, "Actually no, of course not. I kinda…There's something I wanted to-"

You furrowed your brows, concern knitting your features together. At this point, Steve's tension seemed to be rubbing off on you.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine, just…can we talk?"

"Of course."

He glanced around the diner, gaze briefly flitting over the empty tables and the neon glow of the jukebox. "Not here," he murmured, voice barely audible above the din of conversation and clinking dishes. It was a busy night, despite being Wednesday. "Can you, like, take a break?"

For Steve, of course you could.

Curiosity mingled with concern, and you followed his lead, stepping out into the cool night air. The streets were bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, casting elongated shadows that danced upon the pavement. You leaned against the side of the building, your eyes fixed on Steve, awaiting an explanation for his beyond unusual behavior.

He raked his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit that seemed magnified in this moment. "Look," he began, his voice tinged with a vulnerability you hadn't heard before, "I need a favor- a big one."

Oh, Jesus. "Steve," you placed a hand over your chest, breathing a sigh of relief. "For a moment there I thought you were going to say something terrible. A favor? C'mon, sure. What do you want me to do?"

Steve's eyes met yours, his gaze earnest and…vulnerable?

"I... I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend... Just for one night!" he quickly added, like he was afraid you might misinterpret his request, say no even before he could finish… but no, of course you wouldn't. Far from it.

Who wouldn't want to date Steve Harrington?

"But why would you-"

"My parents," Steve interjected, tone deeply tinged with unease, "they're in town."

"Oh." Steve rarely ever spoke about his parents, and their mere presence seemed to have stirred a sense of apprehension within him. "Are they still... difficult?"

You knew you were touching scars, deep scars. You made sure to be gentle.

Steve sighed, gaze fixed on the ground.

"Yeah, you could say that," a hint of frustration colored his voice, as if he were carrying on his shoulders the weight of every little judgemental glare they had ever sent his way. "Nothing I do is ever enough for them. They've always been focused on money and success. To them, that's the measure of worth. And because I don't fit their mold of the perfect, ambitious son, they treat me like…well, you know how they treat me."

Indeed, you knew.

Steve looked like he didn't know you were unable to say no to him.

And that's how you put yourself into one hell of a mess.

It's Saturday night and you're standing in front of the mirror, desperately trying to zip up your stupid dress. Why anyone would put a zipper in the back of a dress, in the most difficult possible place for a person to reach on their own, is something you are unable to fathom.

But then again, maybe you're the stupid one in this story, you think bitterly, since it was you who chose the dress with the zipper in the back in the first place.

Why are you trying so hard, though?

"I'm not," you tell yourself out loud, stubbornly.

There is a big pile of discarded clothes on your bed that says otherwise.

With a feeling akin to fear bubbling in your stomach, you glance at the clock. It's almost seven. For fuck's sake.

You're late.

Steve will arrive soon, and you are apparently unable to close the damn zipper of your own dress, no matter in which awkward positions you try twisting yourself into…you just can't reach it.

The doorbell rings.

The world is truly a dark place, isn't it?

You freeze. It can only be Steve. Shit, shit, shit! For a moment, you consider the idea of simply not opening the door, turning off the lights and pretending you never agreed to take part in this madness that is dining with the Harringtons.

HA! As if you'd really be able to turn your back on Steve.

You take a deep breath, accepting the battle you just lost, and decide that your only and best option is to simply open the door and ask Steve for help — mortified or not. With no choice but to leave the dress with the zipper still open and your back somewhat exposed, you quickly walk to the door to open it.

"Sorry, I'm late," you say, a little out of breath. "I had a little problem with the dress and I... flowers?"

Flowers, for sure. Steve holds a beautiful bouquet of red roses. He looks at you for a moment, then his eyes run over the partly open dress and your exposed skin for a couple of seconds too long to be accidental. You swallow thickly.

"Yeah I..." he shakes his head, a little uncomfortable standing there, and then his eyes meet yours. "The flowers are for you. Do you want me to...?" he mimics the motion of closing a zipper.

You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but there is no choice but to accept. You look at him, a mix of gratitude and nervousness in your eyes.

"Yeah, that would be great," you reply, stumbling over the words.

If he notices, he doesn't say anything.

Steve comes closer and hands you the bouquet, your fingers briefly touching his. You catch a whiff of his cologne — citrusy fruit and wood notes — as you turn around, brushing your hair away from your neck.

For a moment, Steve does nothing, and you wonder if he is just figuring out the best way to close the zipper…or something else entirely.

His touch ghosts down your bare back before his hand finally, finally finds the zipper. Slowly, he pulls it up, inch by inch, and you hold your breath for a moment, lost in a feeling your best friend is definitely not supposed to evoke in you. You feel the dress tighten, fabric adjusting to your body, his fingers inevitably brushing your skin and sending unexpected tingles up your spine. You try to ignore the trail of electricity left by the tip of his fingers as you turn to face him, eyes finding his.

"There you go", he murmurs, taking his hands off you and taking a small step back. "You look very... girlfriend."

You laugh.

"Thank you", you say softly, your heart beating faster. "You also look very boyfriend."

A small smile plays on Steve's lips, a flush creeping up his cheeks. Or maybe it's just the cold night breeze coming through the open door...

Steve's gaze drifts to your lips and lingers there for way too long to be accidental. He is so close that he starts crushing the bouquet between the two of you…

Something clicks inside of you. Common sense, perhaps.

"Thank you... for the flowers."

The spell breaks; he moves away so fast that you almost drop the flowers on the floor.

"Yeah, uh, no problem," he says quickly, regaining his composure. "Ready to go?"

Disappointment stabs at you, but you try to hide it. Maybe you imagined too much, read signs where there were none.

"Sure. I'll just put the flowers in a vase."

It's an excuse to catch your breath. You walk to the kitchen, put water in the first clean container you find and put the flowers in it. Deep breaths, deep breaths.

Your heart is racing and yet nothing has happened. It's just dinner, you tell yourself, I've had dinner with Steve and the others before. It's just dinner.

So why did you try so hard to look beautiful? insists the other voice in your mind. You decide it's best not to answer.

"You okay?"

Steve is at the kitchen door, all concern and soft brown eyes. You must have taken too long.

"Yes, I'm fine," you reply, forcing a smile to calm your own anxiety. "I was just taking care of the flowers. Ready to go?"

Steve nods. A gentleman, he opens the car door for you to get in. It's a short drive to the Harrington house, and you take the opportunity to try to calm your nerves. Looking out the window, you watch the city lights blinking as you approach your destination.

You look at him. You have the impression that Steve is driving slightly slower than necessary.

"Can I ask you something?" you say, unsure.

Steve briefly glances at you before returning his attention to the road, looking so stiff you're under the impression he might break his back at any moment.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Why did you ask me to pretend to be your girlfriend? I mean, I understand the part about your parents…but why didn't you bring someone you're actually dating or something?"

There's a brief moment of silence before Steve responds, his voice a bit softer.

"Actually, I'm not really dating anyone at the moment," he admits. "And when my parents mentioned the dinner, I kind of panicked. I didn't want to show up alone and face more questions about my life, you know?"

"I know," you respond, understandingly. "And why did you choose me specifically?"

He looks away for a moment before answering.

"Because you're perfect," he says, finally looking back at you. Then quickly, as if he only just realized the words slipped out on their own, he adds, nervously staring back at the road, "I mean, my parents, they... you're perfect for them. They're going to love you."

You feel a mix of surprise, satisfaction, and confusion with Steve's response. You try not to read any deeper meaning behind the words, telling yourself not to notice how he quickly tries to disguise them.

"I see," you reply, although you don't really understand anything. Steve seems to say one thing when he means another. "Well, I hope I can do well. I mean, I'm not very convincing when I lie."

Steve smiles briefly and nods.

"I'm sure you'll be great. Just... be yourself."

You appreciate Steve's vote of confidence and focus on staying calm as the car approaches the Harringtons' house. Although there's still a lingering questioning in your mind about Steve's earlier response, you decide to set it aside for now and focus on the immediate task.

Steve parks the car, and you both step out together. Nervousness returns as you approach the front door. You exchange a quick glance with Steve, seeking mutual encouragement.

As you walk toward the house's entrance, Steve's hand finds yours. He gently squeezes it, and you're not sure if he's trying to convey or seek comfort himself. You don't mind anyway.

The door opens, revealing Steve's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. As you prepare to enter their house, they cast evaluative glances your way, as you had expected. Mrs. Harrington's smile seems a bit forced, while Mr. Harrington maintains a serious expression you can't even begin to try to read.

It's not like you expected anything different.

"Mom," says Steve in lieu of a greeting. "Dad."

"Steve, you finally made it," says Mrs. Harrington, her tone somehow a mix of relief and disapproval. "And this must be your... girlfriend."

Steve maintains his composure as he introduces you, although you can sense a slight tension in his shoulders. It's only when he says your last name that Steve's parents' gazes turn into something completely different, almost a scientific interest.

Hawkins is a small place. Your parents' business is respected enough in town.

All eyes turn to you, and you try not to show the insecurity you feel inside. Mr. Harrington studies you for a moment, his penetrating gaze seeming to assess your suitability for his son.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Mr. Harrington," he finally says, extending an unusually large hand for a formal greeting.

You shake his hand firmly, trying to convey a confidence you're not quite sure you feel. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Harrington. Thank you for the invitation."

Mrs. Harrington still seems a bit unsettled but composes herself as she invites you inside. You're making your way toward the dining room when you feel Steve's hand intertwine with yours again, and when your gaze meets his, he's smiling.

Thank you, he mouths.

You smile back.

During dinner, you make an effort to be as pleasant and interesting as you can possibly be in the eyes of Steve's parents, responding politely and trying to find points of common interest. In turn, Steve makes an effort to showcase his worth, defending his accomplishments, however small and sharing his plans for the future, painting an image of maturity that, you can tell by the look in his parents' eyes, they were not expecting.

Throughout the evening, you realize that although Steve's parents are demanding and neglectful in many aspects, they also seem to have their own insecurities and concerns. They want the best for Steve, even if their way of expressing it is at least…unusual.

As the night progresses, you find yourself navigating this strange family dynamic better and better, to the point where Steve's parents' attention is fully on you, and it doesn't even feel that uncomfortable anymore. You even laugh at one point.

By the end of the dinner, as you two prepare to leave, you notice a very similar expression of relief on the faces of Steve's parents. They seem to have found some kind of approval in the way you both behaved together during the evening.

As you say goodbye, Mr. Harrington extends his hand again, but this time, his handshake is warmer, less formal, and Mrs. Harrington's smile almost seems genuine. Almost.

"It was a pleasure having you here," she says. "You should bring her more often, Steve."

You and Steve exchange a look of surprise. Had you somehow managed to create a connection with his parents?

As you walk away from the Harringtons' house, Steve's hand finds yours for the third time that night, and an optimistic part of you registers the fact that there's no one else here to see. He gently squeezes it, his brown eyes filled with gratitude when they meet yours.

"You were amazing," he says, genuinely smiling.

In the car, during the ride back, you both talk animatedly about the night and his parents' reactions. The tension from dinner seems to have diminished, leaving you both more relaxed and confident.

When you arrive in front of your house, Steve turns off the car and gets out to accompany you to the front door, even after you— out of politeness, mind you — said it's really not necessary.

"You know, I didn't expect everything to go so well tonight," says Steve, with a playful smile. "I can't believe I'm saying this about a dinner with my parents, but thanks to you, it was even fun."

You laugh. "I kinda had fun too. I think we did better than we thought possible."

"You're amazing," he says again, and this time his voice carries a softer, more intimate tone. His eyes meet yours, shining, and you see admiration there…maybe, you dare to think, something even deeper.

The silence grows tense. Your heart races. There's something special happening between you, you know there is; this goes beyond mere friendship or pretending to be a couple for one night…doesn't it?

Are you imagining this?

"Steve..."

You can't finish before he's leaning in slowly, and you're almost certain his eyes are fixed on your lips. For a feverish moment, you think Steve is going to kiss you.

He tilts his head last second. You feel the softness of his lips brushing against your cheek a moment later, a light and brief kiss, mouth almost uncertain against your warm skin….and then it's over.

Steve pulls back slowly.

"Goodnight," he says, eyes soft, smile softer. "Thank you…for today."

"You're welcome."

It's only when you enter the house that the dress dilemma comes to mind.

Well…shit.

The zipper at the back is still unreachable for you, and you can't undo it yourself unless you use scissors — which, considering the price you paid for it, you really don't want to do.

With few options and too much embarrassment, you decide to call Steve back while you still can.

"Steve?" you practically shout, your embarrassment immediately doubling. He's about to open the door of his trusted BMW when he turns to you, confused and unfairly handsome under the street light.

Suddenly using the scissors on the dress doesn't seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Well, too late.

"Could you, you know... " you ask, gesturing to the back of your dress, "help me with the zipper?"

His initial surprise quickly gives way to a nervous smile.

"Sure. What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn't help?"

"I'm sure that's one of the many job duties."

"Definitely. And I strive to be a top-notch fake boyfriend."

He steps in. With the door closed behind the two of you, the atmosphere takes on a sense of intimacy and anticipation.

"I really can't reach the zipper," you feel the need to explain, even more flustered by his silence.

"No problem," Steve says with that gentle tone that makes your heart do funny things inside your chest. "Turn around."

You turn so that he can reach the dress' zipper, and now you're facing the large oval mirror in the hallway, with Steve standing right behind you.

He reaches out gently, his fingers lightly brushing the back of your dress.

Breathe in.

The temperature around you seems to rise a few degrees.

Breath out.

You feel the gentle pressure of his fingers as he starts to slide the zipper down. He touches your skin and you tell yourself that this is inevitable, that he didn't mean to…but he lingers. Lingers just enough for you to tense up and let out a breathless sigh you certainly didn't intend to.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks, his voice soft, filled with concern. You know he's looking at you through the mirror and that's precisely why you keep your gaze on the floor. "Are my fingers cold?"

"No, your fingers..." your voice sounds hoarse. You clear your throat. "...it's fine, I'm okay."

I'm great. I'm more than okay. Nothing out of the ordinary happening here.

However, when the zipper seems to momentarily get stuck — because of course it had to — the two of you exchange equally panicked looks through the mirror, though perhaps for different reasons. An uncomfortable silence fills the air as Steve tries to fix the issue.

"I'm... it's just... sorry, it seems to be stuck."

There's a moment of awkward silence as he tries to figure out a way to open the zipper. You can feel the tension in the air as he struggles to handle the situation.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" you joke, desperately trying to ease the tension.

Steve lets out a low laugh, his warm breath gently caressing your neck.

"Absolutely," he replies, his voice slightly husky. Then, probably without so much as noticing, he adds, "I've taken off many dresses before."

Oh.

"Steve-"

Steve doesn't give up. With skilled fingers, he adjusts the position of the zipper and makes another attempt. It moves.

"We're almost there," he murmurs softly, his voice close to your ear.

Finally, with a smooth motion, the zipper gives way, sliding all the way down. A sigh of relief escapes your lips, and you turn around to face Steve, finding his eyes filled with excitement.

"I did it!"

His enthusiastic smile soon gives way to something else as he realizes how close — and technically partly undressed — you are.

And close you are, so very close. Close enough that you and Steve are somehow breathing the same air now.

Close enough, you realize, that a slight tilt of the head and...you'd be kissing.

Kissing.

Did he notice that too?

You hold your dress up over your chest to make sure it doesn't fall because, well…no matter how distracted you are, it's not enough that you'd risk a wardrobe malfunction that'll leave you standing there naked in front of Steve Harrington.

"...thanks," you manage a whisper, lips a hair's breadth away from his. You do know that Steve has no reason not to go now that dinner is over and everything went (surprisingly) well, but a part of you wonders if maybe…

Steve's hands hover around your waist as if unsure of what to do next.

So close...

You hold still.

In that breathless silence, you're under the impression that Steve leans closer, even if just the slightest bit, maybe without even noticing.

"Steve…" you slowly tilt your head to the side.

Steve's heart is pounding in his chest as he feels the warmth of your breath against his lips. Stop, he thinks. His eyes flutter closed, and Steve can't help but lean in just a little bit more.

He raises his arm as if to touch you, wanting to touch you, to hold your face, to bring you closer…but he stops with one of his hands hovering near your cheek.

He pulls away with a gasp, his hands flying up to his face in shock. "I should-" he stammers. "I need to go."

Bam.

Door closed.

And just like that, he's out of the house before you can even open your eyes properly.

He just…pulled away.

What the hell was that?

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington drabble

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