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azrielbrainrot · 11 months ago

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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: You're back home right when Azriel was starting to lose all hope, but is the person standing in front of him the same who disappeared all those years ago?

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury

Word Count: 6670

Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 ○ Part 3

Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.

Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.

His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.

In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.

Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.

He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.

You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.

As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.

He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.

Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.

He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.

He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.

His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.

His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.

“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.

He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.

Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.

Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.

Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.

He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.

“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.

He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.

He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.

“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.

“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.

“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.

“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”

“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.

Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.

“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”

“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.

“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.

“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.

He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.

“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?

Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.

Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.

“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.

“I will not leave her.”

“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.

Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.

He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.

He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.

Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.

“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.

“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”

He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.

“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.

When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.

Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.

Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.

That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.

“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.

“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”

“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.

“Why would she hurt you then?”

“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.

“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.

“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”

“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?

“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.

“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”

“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”

Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.

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You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.

You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.

The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.

You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.

Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.

Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.

You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.

As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.

You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.

As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.

You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.

You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.

The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.

When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.

“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.

“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.

“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.

Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.

The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.

As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.

If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.

Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.

Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.

You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.

When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.

Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.

You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.

A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?

“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.

Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.

You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?

Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.

“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.

He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.

You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.

“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.

Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.

“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.

“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.

You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.

The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.

“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”

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(for some reason I couldn't tag some of you. check your settings because you might have tags disabled)

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar

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queenshelby · 8 months ago

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AMERICAN GIRL (PART TWO)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader

Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo, slow-burn

The following morning, when you woke up, it felt like a dream, hazy and blurred around the edges. But as the memories of the past few days came rushing back, accompanied by the now familiar feeling of unease, you remembered it was no dream.

You were living a new life now and you were determined to make the best of it. It could be exciting, even thrilling.

The next few days passed by without any major incident, although the tension in the air was palpable especially since you and Emma never really left the house. These were Grace's orders and within the confinement of this mansion, you tried to find solace in the quiet moments: the few minutes you stole for yourself in the library, that early morning walk in the garden, without Grace's or anyone else's presence.

It helped you maintain your calm, just as it did in prison, but there was no denying that this house carried a certain unease everywhere you went, instilled in its foundations and passed on from person to person, until it had become an unspoken presence.

Tommy had been away for most days, busying himself with work and illegal dealings while Grace either stayed at home or indulged in some shopping trips to either Birmingham or London.

Over the days that had passed, when Tommy was around, mostly in the evenings or the early mornings, you heard him arguing with Grace. They argued a lot and you wondered why he was still with her after all those years.

You have heard some gossip from the maids in the house, the ones that were nosy and talking a lot, about how Grace had betrayed Tommy and, yet, he had fallen for her charm and her wit. She was his first true love after France and you wondered whether, perhaps, he held on to that or whether this had become strictly business now that Grace had connections to both, the US and Ireland.

One of the arguments in particular surrounded the fact that you and Emma were here, which was something that made you uneasy.

You overheard them talking about you and Emma in Tommy's office late one night, and you couldn't help but listen in - not because you wanted to snoop, but because their hushed conversation piqued your curiosity.

"I don't fucking understand, Grace. Why would you bring them here?" Tommy's voice was low and controlled, but there was no mistaking the frustration in his tone.

"They're my stepdaughters, Thomas. It's not as if I had a choice in the matter. The Americans made a demand and I adhered, for your sake and for the sake of your business interests with them," Grace replied, her voice equally measured.

"For my sake, eh?" Tommy 's voice was dripping with sarcasm now, his eyebrows furrowing together as he leaned forward against the desk. "You adhered for my sake? I'm not so fucking sure, Grace. But then again, I am never so fucking sure with you," he spat and Grace let out a derisive snort.

"Alright, Thomas. I brought them here because I felt guilty for what happened. Emma was abused by another family member, which is why Y/N interfered. None of this would have happened if I had been a better person," Grace lied, feigning innocence which is when you clenched your fists, but held your tongue, knowing that getting involved in their argument would do nothing but add fuel to the fire.

Tommy's gaze was fixed on Grace, his expression unreadable. "And you felt so guilty that you put them in the staffing quarters, Grace? Why is that?" he said, his tone ominous. "I suppose your guilt has limits, eh? Because clearly, you do not want to spend time with either of them and, yet, they are here, in my fucking house," Tommy's voice was low and dangerous, his eyes never leaving Grace's face.

Grace pursed her lips, her eyes flashing angrily. "You know as well as I do, Thomas, that having them in our living quarters complicates things. They will be a distraction and-"

"You are afraid of Y/N, aren't you?" Tommy interrupted her , his voice laced with amusement that sent a chill down her spine.

"Alright Tommy, perhaps I am afraid of her," Grace then admitted , her words barely escaping her lips, catching even herself by surprise.

She recovered quickly, continuing, "But with the connection they have to the American family, our business interests could be compromised. Surely you understand the implications-"

Tommy held up a hand, silencing Grace midsentence. "I understand the implications too well, Grace. But now I want to know why you are afraid of a 19-year-old woman ." Tommy's blue eyes bore into Grace's, his voice steady and unwavering. He had always been intuitive and perceptive and it was no different this time.

Grace took a deep breath, silently cursing herself for revealing her fear. "I am afraid of her because her father killed himself after the things I did to him. I cheated him for years and he never forgave me for that," Grace murmured, her voice barely audible. "I broke his heart in every imaginable way and he, in turn, destroyed himself because of me."

Thomas regarded Grace for a moment, absorbing what she just revealed to him. "And I am the man you cheated on him with?" he ought to confirm , the seriousness of his tone causing Grace's heart to quicken.

"Yes, Thomas." Her voice was a mere whisper, but she could sense his focus intensifying, the air in the room growing thicker by the second.

"Fucking Hell Grace," Thomas muttered slowly, dragging a hand through his jet-black hair. "So, you thought it would be good idea to bring them into the man's house who you know they would likely blame for their father's death? Are you fucking serious?" Thomas' voice was laced with a mixture of confusion and anger. "You really thought bringing them here would be a good idea? Bringing them to the place where they could see you with the man you had an affair with, the man who you had betrayed their father’s trust with?" Thomas' words came out in a harsh whisper as he shook his head in disappointment.

Grace swallowed hard, her throat suddenly feeling dry as she tried her best to justify her actions.

"Y/N killed a man, with a single gunshot to the head, and you bring her to my house, eh?" he then asked, raising an eyebrow at Grace and causing her to flinch at the harshness of his words.

Grace averted her gaze, carefully selecting her next words. "I brought them to the safest place I knew, and I secured two more years of trade with New York," she reasoned, though her words held more desperation than conviction.

Tommy took a deep breath, gritting his teeth as he tried to swallow his anger which is when you swallowed your pride and tore yourself away from the door, your bare feet silently padding the length of the hallway as you made your way back to your guest room. There was no use in listening to their quarrel anymore; the truth was out of the bag now, and it hung between them like a noose, waiting for an opportunity to tighten around their throats.

But as much as you tried to focus on the silence of the mansion, the words you had just heard continued to play at the forefront of your mind, an inescapable echo that threatened to consume you entirely.

You knew who Tommy was and it served Grace right to be afraid of you , because you would never forgive her for the things she had done to your father. Not entirely. And yet, despite that knowledge, you also couldn't help but feel some small fragment of gratitude for the roof over your head and food on your table.

You sighed, pushing yourself off the bed and opening the windows to let in a cool breeze. The sound of trees rustling in the wind and the distant chatter of birds momentarily soothed your racing thoughts and, when you looked out of the window, you noticed Tommy retreating from the house , his shoulders tense and his gait heavy with what appeared to be an inner turmoil.

A ripple of guilt washed over you, knowing you may have contributed to his stress, and yet, you couldn't shake the sense of betrayal that lingered following what you had heard in the hallway.

Instinctively, you slipped on a silk robe, its emerald green color mirroring the depths of your eyes, as you left your room to join him outside. The mansion was quiet except for the distant echo of your footsteps as you traversed the corridor.

Tommy was out on the patio when you found him and his gaze was fixed on the darkness of the woods nearby.

A glass of whiskey dangled loosely from his hand, the amber liquid sloshing gently with each movement. You could see his jaw clenched tightly, and the rigid line of his shoulders told you this was uncomfortable somehow.

As you approached, Tommy glanced up and offered you a small, weary smile.

"Can't sleep?" he asked, the huskiness in his voice betraying his own restless night.

You shook your head slightly, shuddering against the cool spring breeze that drifted across the open patio. "I must admit, the house is somewhat... unsettling at night."

Tommy's eyes narrowed thoughtfully for a moment, as though weighing his words. "I imagine it would be," he conceded as you tentatively reached for the whiskey glass in his hand.

Tommy didn't hesitate to release it to you, his fingers brushing against yours with an unexpected warmth, sending a jolt through your body once again.

The whiskey burned pleasantly as you swallowed it down, letting the warmth spread through your chest and help to calm your racing thoughts. "I guess it's just going to take some time getting used to," you replied with a soft smile as you handed the glass back to him.

Tommy looked at you thoughtfully for a moment, his gaze unwavering, and you could feel yourself sinking into the depth of those blue eyes.

"I suppose it will," he finally responded, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a fleeting moment, silence hung in the air between you, pregnant with an expectation that neither of you dared to acknowledge. He took another sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving yours as the silence continued to stretched on, forming a strange intimacy that you had not anticipated. It was almost as if only the two of you existed in that moment, and everything else faded away into oblivion.

Despite the tension, Tommy felt the need to fill the void that had settled between you.

"I suppose we all have our ghosts to face in this house," he finally admitted, a whimsical smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You followed his gaze as it travelled towards the dense trees standing tall in the distance. The darkness seemed inviting, and the quiet seemed soothing, contrasting sharply with the unrest that churned within the walls of the mansion.

"My father once told me that we all have our stories to tell and so do the houses we live in. If these walls could talk, what do you suppose they would have to say?" you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the words floating effortlessly into the cool night air.

A faint smile graced your lips as a myriad of memories from your childhood invaded your thoughts.

"They would tell many tales indeed," Tommy agreed, swirling the contents of his glass before taking another sip of the fiery amber liquid. "This house belonged to a respectable man once, but he was also a lonely man, with no one to inherit his fortune," he began, casting a brief look over his shoulder to where the mansion stood, towering behind you both like an impenetrable fortress. "He took in strays, gave them a roof over their head and food on their table - but he never took in a woman whom he loved," Tommy told you and you watched him as he recalled the story, transported to another time and another place by the weight of his words. "I suppose love is a myth after all. There is desire and lust, sure, but love? I don't think it exists," Tommy said as if he was talking to himself, his gaze lost in the fire that flickered dangerously low in the outdoor hearth. "So if you ask me, this house once belonged to a smart man," he finished off as the night had grown colder around you, and the flickering light danced across your skin, casting shadows along your collarbones and the delicate slope of your shoulders.

"Maybe you are right. Maybe it doesn't exist and yet I wonder what kind of tales this man would tell if he were to speak now? He may have found love with someone who never reciprocated it. It's possible" you murmured thoughtfully, wrapping your arms around yourself as a chill ran down your spine.

The air seemed to grow heavy in the wake of your words, and neither of you dared to speak for a few moments. An invisible thread stretched between you, a curious connection that seemed to defy all reason, but you couldn't ignore the way it made your heart race.

Thomas' gaze lingered on you for a heartbeat longer than was necessary before breaking eye contact and taking another sip of whiskey.

"Perhaps," he eventually said candidly as the air grew colder around you when a sudden breeze picked up, rustling the leaves and sending a shiver down your spine. "But love requires vulnerability and trust and a man who can afford a house like this, is neither vulnerable nor trusting," Thomas went on to explain, his words heavy with a hidden melancholy that made your heart clench. For the first time since you met him, you could sense a profound pain lingering underneath his usual charismatic and confident façade.

"Is this why you do not love Grace? Because you don't trust her?" you asked, your voice gentle and curious. The words hung in the air for a moment, a question that seemed to hover between the two of you, as though waiting for the perfect moment to be answered.

Thomas' gaze shifted towards the glass in his hand before flicking back up to meet yours. "Love is a concept I struggle to understand, and it's not something I openly welcome in my life, whether trust someone or not," he told you, avoiding answering your question before observing the way you shivered from the cold. "Come," he said, standing straight with his drink in hand and moving back towards the mansion. "Let's get you inside. You don't want to catch a cold now, do you?"

You followed him to the French doors, as you entered the grand mansion, taking one last glance at the patio with its dying fire. The stillness of the evening only heightened your senses and left you feeling strangely aware of his presence beside you.

Something about being near him stirred unspeakable emotions inside of you, feelings you couldn't justify nor understand. The strange allure of his tortured soul called out to a deep, primal part of you, begging to be explored. But you knew better than to indulge in such reckless desires.

"Tommy?" you asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between you as you walked towards the grand staircase which you knew was where you were going to part ways. "Do you think I could work for one of your businesses, just to make some money for a tutor, for my sister? She is still young and needs to be schooled," you asked, the words slipping from your lips before you could think them through.

Tommy paused, his gaze locked with yours as a battle of emotions seemed to wage behind the depths of his eyes.

"I will arrange a tutor for her tomorrow. There is no need for you to work simply so that your sister can be educated," Tommy replied sharply, breaking eye contact first as he continued to climb the grand staircase.

You lingered in the dimly lit foyer, your gaze following the broad line of his shoulders as he made his way up the stairs. There was a subtle firmness in his tone that you couldn't quite place - but it was strangely arousing all the same.

"Thank you, Tommy. I truly appreciate it," you said softly, maintaining your composure even as your thoughts tumbled recklessly. "But I would still like to work, please. It is very boring here," you pressed on, hoping to persuade him. "I could help in one of your pubs, or -"

Tommy stopped mid-step and turned to look down at you, his eyes softening ever so slightly. "We will find you something more suitable than bar work, eh? The pubs in Birmingham are not like the establishments that you are used to from New York," Tommy said with a hint of reproach in his voice.

You watched this play of emotions across his face, your thoughts momentarily thrown off kilter by the sight of his dimpled smile. That alone sparked an inexplicable warmth deep within your chest, a feeling that you quickly fought to suppress. You had no business feeling such joy in the presence of Thomas Shelby.

You knew that. You understood that. But you couldn't help yourself around him. There was an inexplicable pull, an attraction that went beyond his devilishly handsome features or his powerful presence. You found yourself entranced by his pain, his tortured spirit that was slowly unraveling before your very eyes. It was as if he wore a veil and every time he spoke, a piece of it would fade away, revealing a snapshot of his true self.

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#cillian murphy x you #tommy shelby #cillian murphy x y/n #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction

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bigfan-fanfic · 3 months ago

Text

I'd Hammer in the Morning (Male!Reader x Thor)

Part One

"What do you mean, you're quitting?" Tony practically shouts.

"Hey, hey, I didn't say the Q-word."

"But you are."

"I... I'm going to be moving to Asgard, Tony. I can't be your personal assistant from a realm away."

Tony fidgets, swinging an arm in your direction. "A 'realm away?' Look how they've got you talking - you can say 'realm' with a straight face!"

"Please don't make this difficult." you try to get that stern but kind note in your voice that Frigga gets when managing Odin or Thor, but you don't quite get there.

"Fine, I won't. Recharge, I don't accept your resignation."

"Pretty sure it doesn't work that way."

"Don't care." Tony quips petulantly. When Pepper walks in, he immediately bursts out. "Recharge is quitting!"

Pepper smiles at you. "Yes, he is, and we're so excited for you. Congratulations, Y/N."

Tony's jaw drops.

"I know it's short notice, but Tony's going to host your goodbye party before you leave, if that's alright."

"I am?"

She silences him with a look. Oh, there it is.

"Fine, fine..."

And with that, after an all-too-wild party that Pepper does her best to manage, you're ready to leave Midgard as your primary residence.

Thor meets you atop the Avengers Tower, the burning runic circle etched into the helipad, little drones already trying to clear up the ash and cinders.

You run to his arms, excited to see him.

"Did you truly think I would not wish to witness every moment of your arrival to my home? Our home, now." Thor chuckles.

"No, I actually thought I was going to awkwardly have to call Heimdall."

You notice a few other Asgardians are here, glancing around interestedly. "Father is eager for your arrival. He assumed you'd have more... luggage. Insisted I bring porters."

You don't really have much more than a couple large suitcases and a few boxes to contain everything you own. Tony had insisted on digitizing all of your books and movies and games and ensuring you'd have communication and internet even on Asgard with a tiny prism he assured you had a copy of JARVIS on it for your use.

It's his way of showing he cares, because he can't go more than two sentences without snarking, by law, apparently.

"Wait... your father is eager for my arrival? I... I kinda thought Lord Odin wasn't too fond of Midgardians."

"No, he's not disdainful, simply... he worries about me. Our... lifespans."

You balk instinctively, the notion that Thor may long outlive you a little depressing. "Oh."

"But he seems to be much more open. So either he has a plan, or you have simply won him over as a mortal that can wield Mjolnir and learn my mother's seidr."

You do recall Odin becoming more warm to your presence, especially once you got over the hump of learning magic and started to transcend your electrokinesis. Frigga, of course, loves you. "A plan? To, like... deal with my lifespan?"

"Perhaps. Mother mentioned something about a coronation gift."

"Wow, all of this for your boyfriend? They're that eager to have me?"

"All of Asgard is eager. To be completely honest..." Thor chuckles, almost nervously. "I believe they expect a proposal soon."

"Oh." You chuckle a little, almost nervous as well. "And should they?"

"My prince... my king... you know this has been the greatest year of my life. I am more than eager to share all my days with you."

"Thor... I love you too."

"Then perhaps a proposal is not far off at all." He smirks. "Now, are you certain this is all your luggage?"

"Yes. Underwhelming, I know."

"Not at all. It simply means you will have plenty of room for the gifts I will shower you with."

You giggle. And then it hits you that you are truly leaving Earth. You frown softly, looking around as nostalgia crashes over you in waves.

"What ails you, my love?"

"Just... it's suddenly very hard to leave."

Thor takes you in his arms and kisses you. "I swear that as long as the Bifrost stands, I shall take you to Midgard whenever you wish."

You kiss him back. "You're sweet. But... it's just the change. It's always a big moment. But I'm not leaving home, not really. I'm coming home. To you. To Odin and Frigga. Even to Loki."

Thor grins. "Truly, you think of my misguided brother as your family?"

You nod. "Frigga and I have been taking lessons outside his cell lately as part of his rehabilitation."

His eyes shine with something surpassing gratitude and admiration.

"My king... allow me the honor of bringing you home."

And in a flash of rainbow and lightning, he does.

#thor x male reader #thor headcanons #thor x reader #marvel headcanons #headcanons

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urgonnaneedabiggership · 2 years ago

Note

Could you make a fic where Miguel gets the female reader pregnant and they're happy but he's worried about her safety? Maybe have a villain find out? Cause some angst?

Risk Something (You're Losing Me)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Angst! Alert!, Unplanned pregnancy!Alert.

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Since I had already established some background and emotional intimacy, I thought I could write this as a sort-of-sequel to my previous one-shot Host of a Ghost. I was so excited to write this, especially because I don't usually write angst but I like to push my boundaries and leave my confort zone. Hope that it pays off and, of course dear anon, that you like it <3

Part III

You’d never really believed in long-distance relationships. After being witness to so many unsuccessful ones, you’d cataloged the entire concept into a box labeled “certain failure” and tucked it away in the back of your head. And yet, with an inconsistency worthy of your friend Hobie, you’d gone and gotten yourself involved in no less than an interdimensional relationship.

How? Well, that was a good question.

All it took was five simple steps:

Step one: Live a regular life. Go to school, graduate, and try to go for a Ph.D. that gets you working near genetically modified insects for just the right amount of time for you to become careless enough to let one crawl onto your backpack, take it to your apartment, and let it sting you. Throw in some negligence, forfeit going to the hospital, and go on about your afternoon. Warning, some side effects like loss of consciousness or intense headaches can be expected.

Step two: Congratulations! You’ve now become a super-powered person with abilities that range from climbing walls and performing gravity-challenging parkour to creating a sticky web-like element that helped you swing from one building to another. Toy around with your new talents, and grow comfortable with them before realizing that you can actually use them to be the much-needed help your city needs.

Step three: Turns out you’re not the only one with this kind of ability out there. There’s a whole Spider-Society full of similarly enhanced people who try and do their best to keep their own dimensions safe, and you’ve not only caught their eye but have actually been invited to join them. Let your new guide Jess Drews show you around, and explain all the benefits that come from joining a team such as theirs. If you decline, you can go back home and that’ll be all.

If you’re interested, it’ll be necessary to convince the leader but they could use some extra help so it shouldn’t be particularly hard. It sounds like an amazing chance. Information you wouldn’t have access to otherwise, mind-blowing facilities where you can polish your newly acquired abilities, possible new friends that actually know what you’re going through…Say you’ll think about it. Right as you’re about to leave, the most fucking gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your entire life walks past without paying either of you any mind, busy while speaking to another Spider-Person. You ask who that is, turns out he’s the aforementioned leader, “will I ever have to work with him?”, you ask. “Probably, eventually” Replies Jess. Ask when you can start.

Step four: Do your best to earn your place in this elite group. Successfully improve your fighting skills, read everything available on interdimensional traveling and the multiverse. Understand it almost instantly because that’s how smart you are, kudos to you. Realize that for some reason, despite never actually interacting with you, Spider-Society leader Miguel O’Hara tends to stare. A lot. Is it because you’re progressing as fast as Jessica says or because she’s a complete liar and you’re actually doing it all wrong? No idea. All you know is that even during mundane scenarios like laughing in the hall with all the newest additions to the team or in line at the cafeteria, you feel a certain tingle in the back of your head that makes you turn around. Of course, the moment your eyes meet, he turns around and leaves. An odd one, yes. But you’ve also heard things. Rumors, here and there about his life before creating the Society. Whispers about a lost family and some video archives being the only evidence that they even existed in the first place. And, of course, the fault he had in the destruction of their dimension. You sympathize with him, despite his apathetic attitude towards you. You’ve seen him interact with those he’s closer to, and you know there’s more to him than he lets on. You’d be elated if he ever let you take just one look at the smidge of his old self that sometimes peeked out from behind the iron curtain. Well, not really. One look wouldn’t be enough. If anything, it would only cement your feelings for the man.

Step five: Curiosity killed the cat. We all know that. You know that. And yet, you decided to go snooping around Miguel O’Hara’s computer and personal files until you accidentally switch his computer on for long enough to let the videos he’s always watching start playing. He…his daughter…an entire lost life gone before his eyes. Then, before you could do the right thing and turn the computer off, an eerily familiar voice called at him from behind the camera. So, of course, you had to keep watching. Long story short? All those oddly constant stares, that coldness towards you, unwillingness to look you in the eye, was because of two reasons: first, you were a nearly identical interdimensional variant of the wife he’d lost in the dimension he unwittingly erased from existence. Two, as he’d confessed after realizing you’d found out about the truth, Miguel had come to terms with the fact that he was in love with you, not as a replacement for somebody from his past but as a new presence in his life that he’d been struggling to watch from afar, unwilling to let all his repressed feelings spill out like water from a broken dam. Until that night, of course.

Now, eight months later, you’d come to realize there was actually a sixth step you’d never actually considered until now that you were in this…situationship.

Step six: Uncomfortably avoid every and all circumstances in which interdimensional disparities and canon consistency regarding your relationship could come up. Don’t say anything like “Well, it’s been nice but I’ve got to go back to my own dimension” because that would remind him that his dimension was not yours too. That you were after all still a stranger in a strange land. Which of course also meant never inviting him to stay in your dimension.

Deep inside, you knew that all those details would eventually cause problems, especially regarding the inner conflict Miguel was always dealing with knowing what he was doing…what you were both doing, went against his strongest principle. But by God he was happy. Happier than he’d thought he could ever feel again. More than he deserved. So he just ignored those intrusive thoughts and focused on whatever task was at hand. And you were too. Even after just eight months, life without him already seemed unimaginable. He was your first thought in the morning and your last before you went to sleep, and more than once his presence beside you had been not just a figment of your imagination, but a part of your reality as you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer whenever you strayed too far from him in bed as he groggily whispered, “¿Y a dónde crees que vas, preciosa?”, Or when he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, lining it up with soft kisses that sometimes ended up in both of you being late for your assigned tasks. With so much on the line, you were more than happy to avoid those spiky subjects. It seemed like such a small price to pay with all you were getting in return.

You weren’t sure of where all this was going, but none of that mattered. Right now, you were together. Inside the Spider-Society you were a great team and each one was a valuable asset. Outside, every second spent in your arms was enough to make him forget Spider-Man. To you, he was Miguel and nothing more. And that was all you needed.

Life was good. You were happy with the way things were. Until, as it usually happens, a necessary disruption came quite literally crashing into your life in the shape of a fifteen-year-old that carelessly swung around a corner and crashed into you after you’d been chasing him like the rest of the Spider-People after receiving Miguel’s message.

“Miles?” You asked, recalling his name, which you’d actually been hearing for quite some time since the circumstances of his existence started being a problem for your boyfriend. The boy didn’t answer. He just looked at you, his eyes filled with confusion and fear until you hesitantly took a step aside to leave the escape route open for him. If anything he looked even more baffled, but when the noise of his pursuers reached your ears he rushed down the hall and you lost him after he took a sharp turn.

Before you could be spotted, you ran in the opposite direction and hid around a corner as you tried to call Miguel on your watch. Of course, it was in vain. Well, Plan B. Fortunately, this time you did get a reply.

“(Y/N)?”

“Peter! Yes, it’s me! Where are you?”

“Where do you think? I’m going after him like everybody else. I need to get to him before…sweetie, please just get back in there, Daddy’s on the phone right now…I need to get to him before- “

“He’s already left the headquarters,” You informed him.

“Wait, you saw him?”

“About a minute ago. He was on his way to the North exit.”

“(Y/N), are you sure you should be a part of this chase right now?”

“Why not? Jessica is there, isn’t she?” You replied, smiling to yourself. Good old Peter B., looking out for you like some sort of self-appointed brother figure.

“Well yeah, but she’s not running, kid. Although I don’t think she should be on one of those death machines either, I don’t what she’s…”

While he kept on rambling for a bit, you looked around and wondered if you’d ever seen the building this empty.

Empty.

Your eyes slowly ran along the pearly white walls until they landed on the hallway that led to the room where the Go Home Machine was kept. Practically unchecked, if Spider-Byte had joined the pursuit.

“P.B., I’ll talk to you later,” You absent-mindedly replied, hanging up on him without waiting for an answer as you dashed down the hallway.

You kept thinking about that poor kid’s eyes. After having all that information unloaded onto him, instead being given enough time to somewhat process everything he now had to escape from the very people he was supposed to feel safe amongst. When he sat on the floor right in front of you right after the crash, he was sure you would immediately hand him over. Maybe a few months ago you would’ve done it without hesitation but now…things had changed.

There it was. The Go-Home Machine. You thought you saw a purple blast inside that let you know Byte was still there. However, if your theory was correct, Miles would have to go through that hall and therefore, you. A few minutes later, a sudden voice booming from your watch startled you.

“(Y/N)!”

“Miguel? Where are you? I’ve been trying to…”

“(Y/N), listen to me! Miles lured everybody out on purpose, he’s trying to get to the machine. I can see your location back at the headquarters and he should be coming your way in less than a minute!”

“Alright. I’ll handle it.” You replied, ending the call before he could ask you to elaborate on that.

Sure enough, light footsteps came in your direction shortly after. Right as Miles entered your field of view, an alert issued by your watch made your stomach drop and a dreadful feeling fill your chest. However, you’d made up your mind. There was no going back now.

Mile spotted you at the end of the hall and stopped in his tracks. His eyes were determined, not as afraid as a few moments earlier. If he was there that meant he’d somehow gotten past Miguel. You fought back a smile when you wondered how pissed he’d be about it. Having his ass kicked by a teenager was something that, maybe under different circumstances, you could tease him about.

“He’s a delight, isn’t he?” You finally spoke, trying to somewhat lighten the mood while taking a step toward the kid. However, he got in a defensive stance, furrowing his eyebrows in distrust.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk.” You assured, showing him both your hands, “Miles, listen very carefully. This is exactly what Miguel was talking about a while ago. At this very moment. Right now, I’m supposed to stop you from getting to that machine and handing you over,”

Of course, he took another step back.

“Miles I’m not going to do that,” You assured him.

“Why not?” He immediately asked, constantly looking behind him, wondering if this was just you trying to stall him like, unbeknownst to you, he thought Peter had tried to do a while ago.

“Because I’m sure there’s a better way to go about all this. I love him so much, I do, but he’s so afraid that I don’t think he’s willing to see other possibilities and by the time he does, it might be too late for you. Now go before anybody else gets here.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Miles darted past you as soon as you finished talking, taking a second to look back before reaching the dimly lit room where his ticket home was. His eyes scanned your face and darted down for one second before he looked up at you, a new worry in his eyes that had you wondering whether his spider-sense was strong enough to perceive something you’d just found out yourself.

“Are you going to be okay?” Miles asked, his eyes looking down for a moment once again. Did he know? Did he mean “you” as in just you or as in…?

“Yes, don’t worry. Now get out of here.” You insisted. With one last hasty “thanks”, he ran into the room as your left in the opposite direction. You weren’t worried about Spider-Byte. She was a good kid, and she’d do the right thing.

The right thing. What did that even mean anymore?

You’d deal with the moral implications later. For now, as you found yourself on the other side of the headquarters, your mind was set on finding Miguel. Maybe you could try and talk some sense into him, make him reconsider whether this was…

“What the hell was that?”

By now you’d gotten used to Miguel’s habit of sneaking up on you. Usually, hearing his voice coming out of nowhere brought a smile to your face. This time, you closed your eyes and winced as you felt his presence behind you.

“Don’t even try lying. I know that voice you used in the call. The one for when you’re about to ignore whatever order I’m about to give you, so I checked the cameras.”

“Miguel, I…” You began to explain yourself just to be harshly cut off.

“(Y/N), what were you thinking? Do you realize what you just did? Do you have the slightest idea of the consequences…?”

“I do realize that you just asked a fifteen-year-old child to stand by and let his father get killed right before calling his existence a mistake, Miguel. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking of our safety, and that includes Miles’. You’re right, he’s a kid and that means he’s selfish and immature enough to endanger everything we’ve all been risking our lives to protect for years.”

“Miguel, listen to me,” You insisted, “You’re scared. I know. I am, too, but have you ever considered that maybe there’s another solution? Do we even know for sure that allowing the kid to go and try to save his father is going to cause any real damage?”

“What if it does? Are you just going to tell me “Sorry, Miguel, you were right” and that’s all? (Y/N), Dios mío, piensa. Gwen said the same thing but we couldn’t trust her with being objective because he’s her friend,”

“Wait, what do you mean couldn’t?” You asked. Miguel clenched his jaw and turned away, unable or unwilling to look at you.

“Miguel, please tell me you didn’t send her back. Not with how she left things back there,”

His absolute silence told you everything. Shaken, you took a step back.

“What is wrong with you?” You hissed the disappointed look in your eyes hurting like a sharp dagger to his chest.

“(Y/N), mi amor, I’m just trying to…”

“You’re such a hypocrite,” You angrily spat out, “You go around preaching about how important sticking to your stupid canon is and the delicate balance of the multiverse when you know damn well that what we’re doing goes against every single one of those things,”

“No, no, that’s very different,” Miguel disputed,

“How is it different?” You argued back, boldly moving closer to him wishing you were taller so you could face him, “I’m from another dimension, there is no way that we were supposed to meet from the beginning. You had your world, this world, and when you tried to live another life in a different one, an entire dimension was destroyed. I had my world, and for all I know maybe there was somebody there that I was supposed to meet but thankfully I ended up here first so I could meet you. But you know what? My universe is fine, yours is too and I swear I had never been happier in my entire life.”

“You’re right.” He muttered in deep thought.

“Yes, I am. And maybe…” You started to say, a relieved smile tugging at the edges of your mouth until he looked up and the expression in his eyes made your throat dry up.

“We’ve been messing with fire all this time. There is probably somebody you can be with without endangering your entire dimension. And this…this is the hand I was dealt and I should just accept it and live with it. You’re right. Maybe this was all a mistake from the beginning.”

“No. No, come on, you don’t mean that.” You shook your head in denial, lifting both your hands to cup his face in your hands, to bring him close like he had done the night you finally could let all the love you felt for him escape its confinement in your chest.

Miguel grabbed your hands before you could touch him and moved away from you before releasing them as he finally built up the courage to look you in the eye.

“Are you serious?” You asked, your voice quivering with anger as you felt tears begin to dwell in your eyes, “So that’s it? You’d rather sacrifice us than find a different way to solve this?”

“Well, what did you think was going to happen, (Y/N)? That this would go on forever and we’d keep pretending everything is fine and that you don’t have to wear a fucking machine on your wrist every time you come to see me because even the cells in your body know you were never supposed to be here?”

“Oh, right, so you expect me to believe that you always knew this was going to be temporary? Then what was this? Something to take the edge off after a rough day until you decided it was time to stop fooling around and just be done with it?”

Deep inside, you knew what his response was going to be, but every inch of your heart silently pleaded for you to be wrong. To pull you into his arms and apologize for trying to send you away and promise that you’d get through this because you loved each other and that was all that mattered.

“I don’t know why you thought it was anything else,”

For a minute, you wondered if this was all actually happening. Maybe this was all a nightmare fueled by all the training simulations you’d gone over lately, and you’d wake up crying just to find Miguel asleep next to you, his wide back slowly rising and sinking with every calm breath he took. Your crying would wake him up and he’d furrow his eyebrows and ask what had happened.

“I had a nightmare, that’s all,” You’d say, wiping your tears off and trying to downplay it. But he knew better. He always knew better. He would pull you close and bury your head in his chest, placing a kiss on top of your head while warning you that he was the only one allowed to have nightmares because otherwise he’d have to start comforting you too and neither would get a full night of rest. And you would laugh softly as you drifted off, lulled by the warmth of his chest and his smell of sage lotion and cheap fabric softener.

But no. You were very much awake, and instead of comforting you with promises and reassurances, he was walking away from you after delivering the final blow to your heart.

Since he had his back turned to you, you felt free to let the repressed tears freely fall down your face as you helplessly watch him go until he disappeared around a corner. All of a sudden, you felt as if the walls of the headquarters had begun to close around you to asphyxiate you, and the sound of the returning Spider-People made you realize you didn’t want to be there for one more second.

Thanks to your watch, you were back “home” in a few seconds.

“Home”. Your empty apartment where you’d lived alone for years. Where he’d never set foot, and at least in that way it was free of his memory. Or so you thought until you looked over your shoulder at the ajar bathroom door. Inside, atop the porcelain sink, still rested the positive pregnancy test you’d left there before having to rush over to the headquarters to help with the latest anomaly.

That memory felt so distant now. As if it had happened years ago, in a different life. You suppose in a way, it did belong to another life. A life that was over now.

Numbly, you made your way toward the ragged sofa, collapsing on top of it as soon as you were close enough. It was only then that the full weight of the last day and a half sank in and, as you gently wrapped your arms around your stomach, you let the tears fall until your throat burned, the dusty cushions muffling your broken sobs.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard correctly, you did what?”

The seriousness of the situation was enough for Peter to fasten a small strap in Mayday’s baby carrier to make sure she won’t go anywhere for a few minutes as he waited for his friend’s platform to reach ground level. He couldn’t be chasing his toddler around and ripping Miguel a new one at the same time.

“I did what I had to do. It’s for her own good,”

“Right, because you’re such an arrogant…” He paused to carefully place his hands over Mayday’s tiny ears, “…such an arrogant dick that you think you know what’s best for everyone, including a fully grown, intelligent, woman like (Y/N)”

“Shit, Parker, do you think it was easy for me?” Miguel uttered, pinching the bridge of his nose before resting his face against the palm of his hand, “What I said about this being the hand I was dealt…I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with that. Hell, I don’t even know how I’m going to keep myself from showing up at her dimension to try and get her back here the first chance I get.”

“And why would you have to keep yourself from doing that?” Peter asked patiently. It sounded like a better alternative to “Miguel, I love you man but I swear you’ve got the emotional availability of a tree stump. Beats me how (Y/N) was able to get you to admit your feelings without prying your chest open with a jigsaw to see your pounding heart for herself.”

“She was right. We were never supposed to meet in the first place. Not like this. It’s not…”

“Miguel, I swear if I hear the word ‘canon’ even once in this conversation I’m going to drive my head through a wall,”

“Just because you don’t take anything seriously doesn’t mean everybody’s the same,” Miguel hissed back.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Last time I didn’t take something seriously, I ended up just like you will unless you get your priorities sorted out. Alone, and regretting not focusing on what was important,”

“This is important,” Miguel stubbornly argued.

“More important than what you had? Look at yourself. Just forty-eight hours ago you were as happy with (Y/N) as you’d been for the past eight months. And as happy as I’ve been with Mayday and my wife who, by the way, wouldn’t even be with me if it wasn’t for that kid you just called a mistake. And do you see my dimension going up in flames? Or yours? Or hers?”

Unable to find an argument against that, Miguel remained silent, his eyes fixed on an empty spot on the wall in front of him.

“Listen, I know you’re afraid. You don’t want her to get hurt, but if you love her as much as you claim to, then you’re taking the choice of a coward right now. And you can’t afford to be one, especially now.”

“Especially now?” Miguel inquired, turning to look at his friend who, much to his surprise, pressed his lips together as if he’d made a mistake and instead focused on getting Mayday’s hair out of her face.

“My point is; I know you well enough to know you worship that woman. And she thinks you’re pretty decent too. And I can tell you from experience that you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life if you let this come between you.”

Not knowing what else to add, Peter gently patted Miguel’s shoulder before leaving the room, hoping he’d given him enough to think about. Hopefully, enough to make him change his mind.

Meanwhile, Miguel hadn’t moved since Peter left the room, mulling his words over.

Two, particularly, had stuck with him for some reason.

Especially now.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x female reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv #angst #female reader #reader insert

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afewproblems · 2 years ago

Text

Give me Steve, Eddie, and Robin at a bar on a Friday night.

They've had a few drinks, and a shot or two when a song comes on, and Steve immediately jumps to his feet with an, "Oh shit!!"

It's Madonna's Get Into the Groove and for a moment Robin and Eddie think Steve is in pain, that he hates the song as is going to ask the DJ to change it.

Except Steve waltzes onto the dance floor, right into the center.

There aren't too many others dancing, it's early still, barely nine in the evening but the spot lights are on and the DJ flicks on the multicolor strobe as Steve parks himself on the dance floor.

Robin laughs and wishes she had brought the disposable camera instead of leaving it in her junk drawer at home.

Eddie meanwhile rolls his eyes, and pretends not to notice the tightness of Steve's jeans or how the light catches the flecks of gold in his hair and eyes.

He's been attempting to hide his pathetic little crush for awhile now, complaining to Robin every chance he gets when Steve does something particularly charming or handsome.

She tells him, as sagely as she can muster, to grow a pair and do something about it already.

But how can he, Steve was, well, Steve...lovely caring, hot as hell, Steve.

What chance did Eddie have?

So he sits there, miserable, nursing his beer, letting his eyes trail after Steve while Robin giggles beside him.

They've never seen him dance, it's bar, they're drunk, the worst that could happen is he makes an ass out of himself and they all go home with a great new story to tell the party later.

God Robin really wishes she brought her camera with her.

But then Steve is moving and he's fluid, never missing a beat. It's some kind of choreography, intentional and practiced movements that wouldn't be out of place in a music video. Eddie and Robin look at each other because, what the fuck, where did this come from??

And people are cheering and whooping, strangers scattered here and there sitting off of the dance floor. There's a sense of comradery, like they're all witness to something and being allowed to share and indulge in this little impromptu performance, but all too soon the song is over and Steve heads back to his seat with a small round of applause and a blinding smile pulling at his flushed cheeks.

"Steve, what the fuck was that??" Robin blurts out before Steve can even sit. Eddie nods, a little dazed, beside her and tears at the paper label on his beer bottle, maybe if he can keep his hands occupied he can keep them to himself.

"What was what?" Steve breathes out as he hops onto the stool beside them, Robin in the middle.

Robin's mouth falls open as her face scrunches into something exasperated but fond, "What was--that! The dancing!"

"Oh, that," Steve huffs with a lazy smile, he leans his elbow on the sticky wood bar and waves at the bartender to signal for another gin and tonic, "I used to help Carol with her choreography for cheer".

Eddie pinches his thigh below the bartop and chews the inside of his cheek as the image of Steve in the Hawkins High cheer uniform begins to solidify in his minds eye, fuck.

Robin elbows Eddie without looking, somehow reading his mind, and throws her hands out, beckoning Steve to continue because that isn't nearly enough information.

"Yeah, she'd come up with routines and you know, they are meant to be done with more than one person, and I mean she and I were friends before Tommy so," he shrugs and smiles at the bartender as they pass him the drink, "I dunno, it was fun, and I remember that one the most".

"Plus," he says with a smirk, "Carol always said the best thing about dance is that you can tell who appreciates the performance and who appreciates the person doing it," he winks as Robin scoffs and calls him gross, but Steve isn't looking at Robin.

Eddie swallows as molten heat creeps up his neck and over his ears, the urge to hide his face, run for the door, melt into the floor, is immense.

But Steve doesn't move his gaze, he smiles softly at Eddie and winks again over Robin's head which she promptly drops into her hands.

"I'm surrounded by horny idiots," she grumbles but the words are muffled in the din of the bar and her own hands as Steve tips his head back to the dance floor and holds out his hand for Eddie to take.

#im pretending this song came out in 1981 or 82 when they were still friends #dont come for me #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #robin is fed up with all this pining #i 100% want steve and carol to be the childhood besties #tommy came after and he and steve were good friends but maybe tommy is the reason why they stopped being so close #i just like the idea of steve and carol doing fun silly things like this #steve and eddie absolutely go home together after this #they have a short talk and then a long night #and then a longer talk in the morning

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slaymitchabernathy · 14 days ago

Text

Cruel Intentions

| based off the man requests i have gotten for a new arranged marriage series!!! |

Coriolanus often wonders how he missed it. How it slipped his mind, how he was so naive, so stupid to miss it.

He thinks back to their wedding day, how sweet she was, how well behaved and perfect she was. To him, it made total sense, she was perfect because he deserved someone perfect, someone to devote their life to making him happy.

After all, Snow lands on top.

So he gave her his last name, slipped the ring on her finger, smiled for the photos, cut the cake, and whisked her away to his penthouse that would forever be her home.

The ring on his finger now feels like a ball and chain and he wants nothing more than to rip it off and toss it into the trash.

Three months ago Coriolanus Snow married Soarynn Nightingale. It was an arranged marriage, nothing new in the Capitol's elite circles who intended on keeping their circles small and exclusive. Why risk your son or daughter marrying out of their tax bracket when you can just arrange the whole thing?

Coriolanus met Soarynn at a dinner with both their parents, or well, his parents and her father. Apparently, her mother tragically passed away during childbirth, leaving Glen Nightingale with a baby girl and not a clue as to how to raise her. But he did good, he raised a polite, quiet, submissive daughter who conformed to all societal norms without the blink of an eye.

She was perfect.

Or so he thought.

The more he thinks about it, the more the signs become so obvious. Glen's eagerness to get the show on the road, how quiet Soarynn always was, how they never went on a date alone despite him being twenty-five and her being twenty. Coriolanus had brushed it off, his parents didn't want to risk a failed marriage so they were simply making sure that everything went as perfectly as possible.

Soarynn was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen, with dazzling eyes and luscious hair. She put other women to shame with her natural beauty. She dressed impeccably for someone her age and always used her manners when they were in public. Which was a good thing considering that Coriolanus was an aspiring politician who could not afford a bad reputation.

So when it came time to propose, he had no hesitation. He went out and bought a beautiful, expensive ring and slipped it on her finger without batting an eye.

Like a lamb to the fucking slaughter.

Their wedding was huge, it wasn't every day two prominent families became one. Everyone in the Capitol tuned in to watch their wedding and all their friends were there to witness the exchanging of vows.

Soarynn had been all sweet smiles and blushing cheeks, curling into him the moment too much attention landed in her lap. She had looked stunning in her wedding dress, it had been classy yet flattering for her figure, once again solidifying that he made the right choice in marrying Soarynn.

Once the wedding was over, he took her home and prepared to take her virginity, something every man planned for and every woman somewhat dreaded. He had been prepared to be gentle yet stern, she'd have to know who was the dominant party in their relationship.

She let him get the both of them undressed, on the bed and just as he was about to sink into her, she sunk her claws into him.

Soarynn was a fucking thorn in his side.

Coriolanus was quick to find out that the pretty quiet girl he thought he married was only like that in public. Behind closed doors, she gave him a run for his money. It had truly surprised him and the worst part was, no one would believe him if he told anyone. To everyone who knew her, Soarynn was so pliant, so sweet and willing to please.

He knows that he vowed to stand by her side no matter what but this has been a true testament to their marriage and they're only three months in. But he can't give up now, no, he has to push through, be strong and break her into the woman he wants her to be.

Right now she looks as innocent as ever, laughing with his mother across the room, sipping her tea. That little liar. Coriolanus looks at the man next to him who happens to be his father-in-law and wonders if Glen Nightingale is aware of the little fucking tyrant his daughter really is.

Soarynn should really consider becoming an actress based on the performance she's given everyone, including him. He was the dumbest audience member, drinking up every second of her lies.

"So when can we be expecting grandchildren?" His father asks him, causing his throat to dry up. Coriolanus has barely had time to think about children with his current campaign for President but he knows that children are expected with marriage, and sooner than possible. He can't imagine having children with Soarynn right now, they barely even have sex.

Despite her undesirable attitude towards him, Coriolanus wasn't going to let anything keep him from what was rightfully his. Sex was the one thing they could agree on. He only partook in sex when he needed to put her in her place, fucking her until she was screaming into the pillows.

It wasn't the most effective method, unfortunately. It would keep her quiet and put her in her place for about a day before she sparked back up and then he'd have to do it all over again. Coriolanus never thought he'd live in a time when sex felt like a chore but Soarynn really did bring out the worst in him.

"Soon," is all he says, watching his wife place her hand on top of his mother's. It's even worse because his mother loves Soarynn, she adores that girl like she's her own daughter. His father is more reserved in showing affection in general but Coriolanus can see it in his eyes that he's pleased with this union between them.

To his father, this is a successful business deal.

To Coriolanus, it's a punishment from an unknown source.

"How has she been doing?" Glen asks him, sipping his drink, "I know she was a bit nervous to move out." Coriolanus wants to roll his eyes at Glen's naivety but he too was once a fool who believed Soarynn's little act, "She's good," he tells Glen, offering him a tight-lipped smile, "it's been an adjustment for the both of us." The understatement of the fucking century but who's counting?

Glen nods, pleased that this has been going so well, "Ah good, I worried for the longest time that she wouldn't find someone, she's just so shy." She's also a fucking minx but what Glen doesn't know about his daughter won't hurt him.

It'll only hurt Coriolanus.

꧁ ꧂

Later that night the young Snow couple returns to their penthouse apartment and the act is dropped the second Soarynn steps through the door. "Keep your hands to yourself next time," she snaps, glaring up at him, "I'm not your fucking dog."

Coriolanus gave up on trying to be nice to her about a week into their marriage, "Well you certainly act like a little bitch," he shoots back, enjoying how her face falls. It's a battle of wits between the two of them and to his dismay, they're very well matched.

Soarynn is sharp and quick, never giving him too much time to recover from her little jabs. But Coriolanus sleeps well knowing that at the end of the day, she belongs to him.

"I'm not the one with my tail between my legs whenever we're around our parents," she says, walking down the hallway with haste. Coriolanus is right on her heels because she has no idea what he has to worry about on a daily basis. Soarynn spends her days shopping with friends and going to social events. She doesn't lift a fucking finger and yet she loves to show him her middle one.

He grabs her arm and pulls her back until they're face to face and he's fuming, "Fix your fucking attitude," he hisses, "before I fix it for you." If Soarynn was who she pretended to be, she'd be cowering in front of him with tears in her eyes, begging for forgiveness.

But she's not.

She smirks and tilts her head in the most sinister way possible, "What're you gonna do? Fuck me again? You know, you can't solve all of your problems by sticking your cock in me. One of these days you're going to have to actually grow a pair Coriolanus."

He's seething now, he'd never hit a woman but boy does she tempt him. "You belong to me," he says through gritted teeth, "and as my wife, your main priority should be to make me happy, not fucking miserable."

Soarynn rips her arm away from his grip, glaring up at him with her stormy blue eyes, "I don't belong to anyone," she spits out, "especially you."

Coriolanus watches her walk down the hall, furious and defeated at the same time.

He needs to get her under control, but how?

꧁ ꧂

"It's simple," Festus says, leaning over the table, "stop giving her what she wants."

Coriolanus feels terribly lost. He had come to his good friend Festus Creed for advice about his marriage since Festus actually believes his tales about Soarynn's behavior but now he's starting to wonder if he really is doomed.

"I don't give her anything," he claims and Festus shakes his head. "You keep giving her the reactions she's looking for," he explains, "she wants you to get upset, so you get upset. She wants you to doubt yourself and then you go ahead and doubt yourself. Stop reacting to her behavior and then you can correct it."

Coriolanus sits there dumbfounded, for once, Festus might be right.

Soarynn is clearly acting this way on purpose, to evoke a response, and one of these days if he's not careful, he's going to snap in public and then he will be the bad guy.

"Stop giving her what she wants and she'll be on her knees in no time," Festus promises, "it's reverse psychology."

Well, it's worth a shot.

꧁ ꧂

When Coriolanus comes home later that day, he doesn't go to find Soarynn like he usually does. Mostly because all he'll get in return is a glare and a scoff. Soarynn has made it very clear to him that she wants nothing to do with him unless they're in public. Behind closed doors, they stay apart, go their separate ways until it's time for bed.

He goes to his study instead, figuring he might as well prepare for his interview on Sunday. The Capitol News is interviewing all of the candidates running in the race and this will be a good time for him to gain some new supporters. He spends a few hours holed up in his study, going over questions, coming up with new, clever answers.

He still has time to go over anything with his advisors but he feels much better now that he knows what to expect. He glances at the clock on his desk and is shocked to see that it's well past dinner time. They usually have dinner together if he's home although they rarely speak and sit on opposite ends of the table.

Very domestic.

He considers getting up and going to the dining room to join her but decides against it, calling the maid to bring his dinner to him instead so he can do some more work.

It's nearing eight o'clock when he's disturbed by a soft knock at the door. "Come in," he says, still looking down at the papers in front of him. The door slowly opens and he hears her soft voice, "When did you get home?"

"Around one," he answers, not even looking at her.

"Oh."

Coriolanus resists the urge to grin, he might need to kiss Festus on the forehead because he's a genius for this idea.

"Did you need something?" He asks, flipping to the next page casually, "No," she says, "no I didn't need anything."

Coriolanus grunts, "Close the door behind you then."

He doesn't see her face but he can tell how his dismissing her makes her feel. Soarynn closes the door behind her and he listens to her quick receding footsteps.

Coriolanus finally breaks into a grin, it'll be a slow process to break Soarynn down but he's willing to put in the effort.

It's all about moves and countermoves.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus dives deep into his strategy of being cold and distant towards Soarynn. He doesn't speak to her unless absolutely necessary or if they're in public. He keeps himself busy with work and locked away in his study whenever he's home and refrains from taking any bait she lays out for him.

It's working tremendously well for him. Soarynn has been much more quiet and a lot more drawn back since he started acting this way. In public she's sweet but he can tell that she's desperate for the smallest touch he can offer her. But the second they're back home, he doesn't even look at her.

She did this to herself really, he's not the one to blame.

He's officially two months out from the election and the polls are in his favor. For now, though, something could always change as his advisors love to remind him. His mother is over the moon for his success and his father for once, seems genuinely proud of him. Running for President hasn't been an easy feat but he's doing exceptionally well if he says so himself.

He's getting ready for a charity dinner tonight, anything to show face and shake hands. Soarynn is coming with him to show support for her husband and he's got her in the palm of his hand.

He checks his reflection in the mirror one last time, making sure that his curls look perfect and that his tie is straight. The press will be there and he needs to be prepared for any questions they might ask him.

He can hear a small struggle ensuing in their bathroom and looks through the doors to see Soarynn struggling with the zipper of her dress. He sighs, he's been doing an excellent job of remaining cold and withdrawn so far but the small, hopeful part of him knows he should help her. After all, he is her husband.

He steps into the bathroom and she immediately tenses, watching him through the mirror, "Need some help?" He nods at the back of her dress and she looks unsure as to whether or not this is some sort of trap.

She finally nods, "Yes," she says softly.

Coriolanus walks up to her and rests one hand on her back while the other pulls the zipper up with ease. "Thank you," she says, turning to face him. He can see it in her eyes how lonely she is, despite having lots of friends and visiting her father, she's lonely in this big apartment when it's just the two of them. At least when they were arguing she could talk to someone.

"Tonight is very important," he tells her, ignoring her gratitude, "best behavior tonight." He walks out before she can say anything else, it's better this way.

It's better this way.

| Part 1. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @strawberriicakes @wonderlandbound111 @kickmybark @villiansarehottest @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @melodyoflovee |

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dailyadventureprompts · 9 months ago

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Dungeon: A Bleak Picture

Unsure whether they've been trapped inside a painting or been cast back in time, the party must venture through the desolate ruins of a once warm and familiar place to rescue a number of innocents that've gone missing after being abducted by some shadowy force.

Adventure Hooks:

The party arrive in the town of Valasren on innocuous business, following the rumors of a ruin, attending a nearby shrine, or visiting some old friends. When they arrive they're given an unexpectedly amiable welcome by lord Lucas Kevral, who's heard of their earlier exploits and wants to cultivate a good relationship with such aspiring heroes. While taking him up on an invitation to dine at his castle, the party spy a gloomy painting depicting Valasren in ruins. Lord Kevral explains that it was painted to commemorate the near destruction of the town some generations ago, when one of his ancestors left the settlement defenceless to go off seeking glory in war. His grandmother commissioned the painting from one of the survivors, and hung it in a place of honour so she nor any of her descendants would forget their duty to defend the people.

As the party pursue their mission around Valasren they'll begin to notice a number of disappearances that only seems to climb as time ticks on. Rumors begin to circulate about something moving in the night, stalking people, creeping into their homes when they're asleep, leaving only open doors and empty beds come daylight. These rumours become all too real when the party awake one morning to find one of their number missing, taken without a whisper from where they slept. A scattering of untrustworthy witnesses say they saw an unnatural figure carrying a sack up the hill towards the Lord's castle, giving them at least a ghost of a trail.

Following the trail back to the palace eventually leads the party to the painting, an inexplicable cold draft intermittently drifting from its now permeable surface.

Background: The painter who witnessed the destruction of Valasren was a true master, and was years later able to immortalize the hopelessness they felt in that moment through their skill with the brush. There is power in such emotional resonance, and transformed the painting into an overlap with the shadowfell, where the town's sorrow had likewise been reflected. Not quite a portal, the painting never did much harm but making the already drafty castle hall a little more cold and unwelcoming at night, at least until recent days.

Drawn by the warmth of life and merriment on the air, A Snatcher has discovered the painting and forced its way through, one by one dragging inhabitants of Valasren into the upside down for an unknown purpose.

Challenges & Complications:

Once the party figure out there's something up with the painting, cut to the abducted player waking up in the ruined shadow-town. There's no corresponding painting anywhere to be seen, and because they were taken while they were asleep they're likely a bit exhausted and missing most of their gear. They'll have to be quiet and clever to escape the nightmare things and lingering spirits that dwell within Valasren's shadow, but doing so may give them vital clues about what's really going on. Keep the tension on until the isolated hero is backed into a corner, then have the rest of their friends arrive.

It's a grim irony that before war came to Valasren, the painter was working on capturing the beauty and peace of their home town on canvas, only for that work to be destroyed in the town's raising. Thinking it lost forever, the painter added it in as a detail nearby the burnt out remains of their workshop as a meditation on the happiness thought taken from them. Like many things lost to the mortal world, an echo of the painting has come to reside in the shadowfell, and acts as the exit portal back into the land of light. Finding it though is a problem, the snatcher has removed it from it's resting place and given it over to the terrible entity lairing in the castle. Where they've put it, who can say?

Numerous townsfolk have been pulled into the shadowfell and are scattered about the echo of a place they thought they knew. Lost, affraid, and isolated, many of them have run for cover or have started to sink into the spirit siphoning torpor that afflicts all to dwell too long in shadow.

Extra special thanks to @dm-tuz , who's monsters are ALWAYS an inspiration.

Artsource

#shadowfell #shadowfell dungeon #town #town encounter #rescue mission #hub #dungeon

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 7 months ago

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Reckoner: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: Your world is turned upside down when you get in trouble for something you didn't even do. The entire team is in uproar over this but Hotch says he will take care of it. Can he? Or are you doomed to live out the rest of your days in misery?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

"Justice without force is powerless; force without justice is tyrannical." - Blaise Pascal

"How is your knee feeling?" you ask Spencer when you walk out of the elevator.

"Still hurts, but the brace you have around it is helping. I'm not moving it too much."

"I might not be a doctor in medicine but I know a thing or two."

You two walk into the bullpen where the rest of the team is. Derek, Emily, and Penelope are huddled around JJ who is showing them pictures on her phone.

"What are you guys looking at?" you ask and set your things on your desk.

"Pictures of Henry."

"My Godson? Let me see!" You and Spencer head over to her and admire the pictures of her son. "Look at his chubby cheeks. He's so cute. You guys are still bringing him over this weekend, right?"

"Yes. Will and I are very excited to go out of town."

"Well, don't worry. Spencer might be crippled but we can take care of him," you joke.

"Hey!"

You look up and see Hotch and Rossi in Hotch's office with an agent sent from the Witness Protection Program. Everyone knows it's Jack's birthday so it's especially hard on Hotch right now. The agent leaves promptly, leaving both older men to talk alone.

"How he is doing?" you ask and nod to your boss.

"How do you think?" Derek sighs. "That agent came by earlier to show him a video of Jack. It sucks but that's about as much as Hotch is gonna get for it."

"We're gonna catch Foyet before something bad happens," you promise.

"We should get to the briefing room," JJ announces and puts her phone away.

You're about to follow everyone when you see several Virginia police officers walk into the bullpen.

"Excuse me, where can I find SSA Y/N?"

"Right here. What can I do for you?" you ask and step forward.

"You're under arrest for the murders of Juan Lopez, John Dimateo, Chase Williams, Eric Price, Jeffrey--"

As the officer is speaking, he turns you around and handcuffs your wrists behind your back. Your gun and badge are still on your person which he also removes. He says two more names which makes a total of seven people he thinks you're responsible for. The entire bullpen is in chaos as Spencer and JJ protest against your involvement, Penelope is just confused and asking why, and Derek immediately gets Hotch and Rossi involved.

"Hotch! Rossi!" Derek yells.

Hotch looks through the window and sees you in handcuffs. He and Rossi are out of their seats and out of the office in record time.

"Excuse me, what is going on?"

"Who are you?" the officer who handcuffed you asks.

"I'm her superior. What is going on here?"

"She's being arrested for the murders of seven men."

"Hotch! I didn't do it!" you say but they're already pulling you away.

"Wait, where are you taking her?"

"Virginia Police Department for questioning."

"Hotch! Spencer!" you say as they practically drag you away.

For five seconds, no one can say anything. No one can believe what they just witnessed. You? Murder? You dedicate your life to helping others, not to end their lives. You've had so many bad things happen to you and by doing good, you think you're making up for the bad. Why would you go out and murder seven people? When would you have the time to? If you're not at work, you're at home with Spencer.

After those shocking five seconds, all hell breaks loose. Everyone starts talking over each other. What is going on? Who are these victims? There has to be some kind of mistake. Y/N would never murder anyone. They've got the wrong woman. Even people who are not on the team start whispering to each other.

"Everyone calm down," Hotch says loudly. He turns to Rossi who is trying to keep a confident face on. "Take the team with you to Long Island." He addresses the team. "Listen, I'm going to go down there and figure out what's going on. In the meantime, there is still a case going on that needs our attention. JJ and Rossi will brief you on the case. When I'm done, I'll fly up there on my own."

"Let me go with you," Spencer says.

"Spencer, I know how hard it is for you right now, but I need you with the team. I'm going to take care of it."

Everyone hates that they can't be there for you right now but they understand where Hotch is coming from. When Hotch was released from the hospital, they all wanted to take care of him but stayed with the team and worked on other cases. However, Hotch was bedridden. You're in fucking jail.

After Hotch leaves and the rest of the team is getting ready to fly to New York, Spencer is still stuck in his spot. He can't seem to move from it because all he is thinking about is you. He wants to cry. He wants to break down at the thought of you being all alone in that interrogation room. Derek does a double take and walks over to Spencer.

"She's going to be okay, man. They have the wrong person. We both know this."

Spencer has to believe this otherwise he doesn't know what he is going to do. Everyone piles into the briefing room but it's like they are zombies. No one knows how to act because your chair is empty. Spencer won't be able to concentrate on a word JJ says much less anyone else, but she begins the briefing.

"Last night, Ben Vanderwaal was killed in Commack, Long Island. He was shot at close range once in the heart, once in the head with a .22 caliber. They found hair and blood trances from Ben's wife, Heather."

"Not Heather?" Rossi asks.

"No, she's still missing and presumed dead. The caliber and placement of the bullets match that of two previous victims. The first is Rita Haslat. Eight months ago, she went missing from her home in New Jersey. Four weeks later, she was found in a trash bin."

JJ puts pictures of what Rita looked like before and after being found.

"She went from that to this in under three weeks? She's totally emaciated," Emily says.

"Ligature marks on her wrists and ankles indicate she was constrained." Derek looks over at Spencer to see him staring at the desk. "One in the heart, one in the head like Ben."

"It sounds more like an execution," Rossi says. "What about the third victim?"

"His name is Bill Levington. His appearance was certainly altered."

JJ allows the others to read about what happened to Bill. There's no way she's going to put those pictures on the screen. Spencer grabs the file and flips through it but he's not really reading it. He's only doing this so he doesn't get in trouble for not paying attention.

"His genitals are missing. Though the method of mutilation is different in each crime, there is clearly a signature. The question is, what?"

"In Ben's case, his hands were taken. Bill's genitals were taken. Rita was completely different. She was starved, tortured, and executed. There's no sign of postmortem mutilation," JJ says.

"Why would he take Heather and not simply kill her?"

"Maybe he hasn't and she's still alive," Derek says.

"The only thing concrete is the MO which depicts an efficient no-nonsense murder. We need to figure out what each act of mutilation means to the unsub or to the victim. Wheels up in twenty," Rossi announces.

He gets up, takes out a file from his inner jacket pocket, and places it in front of Spencer. The noise of the paper slapping the desk is enough to break Spencer out of his trance. He looks at the file and then up at Rossi.

"What's this?"

"You told us you were cleared to fly. You lied."

"Naughty boy," Emily chuckles.

"No, I didn't. I am a doctor, so technically, it wasn't a lie," Spencer stutters.

"What was it, then?" Penelope asks.

"Second opinion."

"You're my bitch now," she smiles and walks out of the briefing room. Everyone else walks out leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts. He allows his tears to fall now that he's alone. Penelope pauses when she hears him sniffle so she backtracks into the room. "Spence..."

"I'm fine," he sniffles and wipes his eyes.

"No, you're not. We're all not fine. She's going to be okay. Hotch is going to get her out of this."

"Yeah, I know," he whispers.

Hotch arrives at the Virginia Police Department sooner than he thought. He won't let you go down for something you never did. He's known you for around five years. He knows the kind of person you are, especially when you tackled him away from a car bomb and stayed by his side when he was stabbed by Foyet. He's not going to let anything happen to you.

The police department must know he was coming because they are on his ass as soon as he walks through the front door.

"You can't be here. You have no authority. This case isn't Federal," the arresting officer says.

"Like hell, I can't. I am her boss. She has rights."

"Which have been read to her. She hasn't lawyered up."

"There is a big misunderstanding here--"

"There is no misunderstanding. Y/N committed these crimes and didn't try to hide it very well."

"With what evidence?"

"Oh, we got a buttload of evidence and it all points to her. Sorry, but you're not on the case. I can't release that kind of information."

"I need to see her. I have a right to talk to her as her superior and as a lawyer."

The officer knows he's not going to win this argument so he decides to let it become his supervisor's problem.

"Be my guest."

The officer leads Hotch to where you are. They took you to one of the interrogation rooms as soon as you arrived, and you've been sitting here with an incompetent officer asking you questions. You're handcuffed to the desk even though you've shown no signs of being violent. You've complied with all of their rules but you haven't said a word to them. You know how interrogations work. You know how someone can incriminate themselves just by talking. You're going to let them get all their questions out before lawyering up.

"Care to explain to us why we found your DNA on all seven men?" No answer. "All seven men were murdered with different weapons that we traced back to your apartment. Your possession. Care to explain?" No answer. "My question is how did you manage to murder seven very fit and strong men that brutally? You're an FBI agent. You must know how to cover your tracks, no?"

"I want my lawyer."

The officer sighs and closes the file they have on you. He can't ask any more questions until your lawyer arrives. He chooses to leave the file there and exits the interrogation room. You immediately grab the file and look through it to see what they have. All seven men were brutally murdered like he said, but you didn't think it would be this bad. You're a strong woman but not strong enough to do this kind of damage.

Each man was killed with a different murder weapon--all that you recognize. They're items from your and Spencer's apartment. A kitchen knife that JJ gave you as a set for you moving into Spencer's apartment, a worn-down hammer you got from your parent's house to put up more shelves, one of your heels that Spencer got you as a present just because he loves you, the fire extinguisher you keep underneath the sink, the iron you keep in the bathroom, one of your phone chargers, and a box of Spencer's matches.

All of these items can come back to you since you're the one who bought them all besides the heels. Who are these men? Who actually killed them? They were all killed in close proximity to your home and work, so whoever killed them must be local to the area. Why frame you for the murders? What does this person or people get for framing you? There are a whole lot of questions that the police aren't asking.

It seems like all they see is murders, some DNA that belongs to you, so you must be the killer without asking the important questions. The door opens and you quickly close the file and return it to the spot in which you found it. You go back to the stoic look on your face but that drops when you see Hotch at the door.

"Hotch!" He closes the door to give you two some privacy even though you know someone is watching you. "I didn't do it. You have to believe me."

"I know. I believe you," he nods and sits across from you, "but someone did and they really want you to suffer for it."

"I've never even met these men in my life. I don't know who they are. How could I have murdered them? I practically live at the BAU."

"They say they have strong evidence against you but they're not saying what it is. I'm not your lawyer."

"How's Spencer?"

"As much as you'd expect him to be. He wanted to come here but the team is on a case on Long Island."

"Hotch, what do I do?" you sigh with tears in your eyes.

"I'm going to do everything I can to get you out of here. It's just a matter of time. You might be spending a few days with PD."

"Yeah. You should go to Long Island and help the team. Like you said, they're not gonna let me leave anytime soon. I'll probably still be here when you get back."

"I can stay here."

"Hotch, go help the team. People are dying. I'll be fine."

"Okay."

Hotch gets up to leave but you stop him before he can.

"Tell Spencer I am okay. My family has a lawyer I am going to use. Tell him I will be home soon."

"Alright."

As soon as Hotch leaves, your confident shell fades away. You're not sure if you're going to be okay. PD has their suspect in custody. They're not going to let you go easily.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #criminal minds season 5

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beelijah4894 · 8 months ago

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I want to examine Chilcuck's change in relationship with Marcille

Quite frankly, I want to discuss the way his general trust changes and how it affects him.

Marcille and Chilcuck are good coworkers, especially at the start of the show. They respect boundaries and share a teasingly platonic relationship. Beyond that, they are fairly good friends; not extremely close but still good. For lack of a better explanation, they are close enough to be able to show genuine concern for the others comfortability rather than just their safety. For example, when Marcille is attack by the slime, Chilchuck offers his hanky to blow out the excess. Or when Marcille helped Chilchuck stitch up his neck wrap.

This show does a tremendous job of showing how these characters have already gotten to know each other and that they know each other well. When Chilchuck is trapped with the mimic, he trusts Marcille would be concerned enough to get help, but also knows her well enough to know she probably fell back asleep. Still, Chilchuck does trust these people. Enough even to share his age and very minor details about his life outside the dungeon.

A scene that really shows Chilchuck's trust in the group is right before the Undine attack when he is laying out the plan for the rest of the trip. It shows just how well they work together and Chil doesn't have to worry about too many details. He knows he is with a strong group. In fact, I'd say they are at their strongest right before and during the dragon attack. They make a plan together and work out each others strengths, in which Chil is able to help in the actual fight. (another less important fact, but when Laios is mentioning how they used to fight dragons, children isn't even named).

Then, the resurrection happens. Chilchuck is the number one person against it. So why does he stay? Why doesn't he stop it or leave the party? There are quite a few reasons. He can't go home without his party, he'd never survive. But he also doesn't want them to die and I think deep down, he does trust their judgement. They've stayed alive this long doing things he wasn't comfortable with and, while this is an extreme, he does have some form of trust there.

Chilchuck is such a follower of what is ethically right and he obviously doesn't agree with this. While, on the other side, Marcille thinks that "there is no morality in magic." It drives a stake through that bond because they both feel so strongly about it. And all of those adventures they had before almost don't matter when Chilchuck is talking to Laios about how, "[He] always found it strange. A well off elf girl wanting to explore the dungeon." (quote may not be exactly correct). Chil doesn't trust "that Marcille" anymore, at least, not as much as he used to. It doesn't help that she is frightening when she is walking the mini dragons away.

When Chil is complaining about his group to the orc (I can't remember her name, forgive me), he admits that they are consistently near death and how his party is reckless and stupid. We know now that he is afraid of losing them and was generally projecting his own feelings of fear. Marcille is included in this, as he complains about her. He, however, mentions her life after the dungeon. "How is she going to live a normal life after this?" He does care for her, but I believe he is projecting here also. How would he live a normal life after witnessing that. What would he do if they're found out?

And this is projected onto Marcille after a while. When Marcille is teaching Laios healing magic and Marcille and Chilchuck discuss party relationships. He implies that she shouldn't have even been let into the group. "I wish he had a better judge of character. That way he'd never find himself in a situation involving black magic." Not to mention in this episode, This being the shot after he says this. They are metaphorically further apart than they have been up until this point and Laios is right in the middle of it.

That friendship is still there. We can see it in places like when Marcille is just holding Chilchuck during the cleaners episode and he's not really angry. But that trust and fear is still there. We see in the Chimera episode, Chilchuck trying to let Marcille know about Shuro and a few others knowing what happened; he is still unhappy to be in this situation and wants to find a way out, but there really isn't a way out.

"I knew it. I had a feeling it would turn out like this. Dammit!"

"Sorry, guys…"

followed by Chilchucks defeated expression. No reassurance, but no fighting either.

This wasn't my best analysis but I am putting my one year of college to use!

I can't wait to see how this changes and expands. I am still only on anime right now, bc my manga are on back order but I'll get there soon enough! @burnazog

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #chilchuck #chilchuk tims #marcille donato #marcille dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 7 months ago

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Unattainable | 7

"Ah my little Schnucki! It's good to see you not through a Webcam! Are you sure you want to do the whole school thing?"

"Noiz! We already talked about this!"

That feeling of family warmth overtook your heart as you watched your brother bicker with his husband. Pulling on eacother's ears and cheeks as they went back and forth on the familiar subject.

"We can't keep them locked up for ever no matter how much we want to!"

"Why not? We have the means and Schnucki doesn't get along with others anyway."

"SHHH don't say that in front of them! (Y/n) we think your plenty capable of making new friends!"

"Well don't lie to them! They're better off staying home. It worked for me I'm sure it'll work for them too!"

"You were locked away for years and hardly knew how to talk to people!"

"And look at me now! It would suit them best to stay-"

"Don't. Undermine me, mister!"

Haruhi huffed at the sight. When would she stop baring witness to men acting like children? Idiots, all of them. She loudly cleared her throat, smiling cheekily when they turned to her.

"Nice to see you two are as energetic as always."

The strawberry blonde chuckled holding his husband by the waist.

"It's the only way I can keep him happy!"

He winked as Aoba hit his suited chest with a blushing face. Haruhi resisted the urge to gag turning to you. You were staring at the seemingly bottomless container of your (f/t), pouting at the sleepiness that interrupted your joyful reward. Noiz crept beside you poking his forehead into yours as he looked down to sample your view. He looked up, identifying the tired glaze over your eyes.. Holding in a giggle he put a hand on your head, keeping firm as you looked up at him. Guiding you into his body he held you tight cradling your back as you hugged him.

"I see you found my 'secret' compartment!"

"Not much of a secret when the design is so obvious."

He feigned a stabbing pain in his heart, "Well leave it to my kid to see the idiosyncrasies of my engineering."

"Sorry." The monotone voice would have come off sarcastic to anyone else. But Noiz knew. He knew that you meant it and you just didn't know how to say that without offensive social cues. He knew that your attempted eye contact was you're insecurity about reacting properly. And he was proud you were even trying.

""It's all good Schnucki!"

He let his hug reduce to an arm around your shoulders as he turned back to Haruhi and Aoba who seemed to be finished whispering about something. And he couldn't help but be a little petty.

"What're you two whispering about? Making fun of how much cuter the two of us are?"

Aoba quickly scowled before flashing a smile as he copied Noiz.

"Not cuter than us I bet! (Y/n) will you judge us real fast?"

"Sure. They are the cutest."

"Gagh! How cruel! Turning my own child against me! But I'll do you one better!"

He pulled you along with his left arm while he reached for Aoba with his right. Firmly grabbing his husband's waist he looped his finger into his belt loops before cheekily holding him in place. Squeezing you both as tight as he could he turned to Haruhi.

"How about now aren't we just the cutest trio you ever did see?"

The reluctant host club member paused, taking in the way you playfully pretended to struggle while Aoba began to scold him. Pushing down an ugly feeling she let a somber smile spread on her face.

"Yep I can guarantee I've never seen anyone cuter...picture?"

She pulled out her phone while Noiz enthusiastically nodded. After a few seconds she tucks her phone in her pocket and Noiz finally releases his hold on Aoba. Doubling down to cuddle into you as you fruitlessly protested.

"Send that to me Haruhi."

Looking into the golden hues of the Serigaki head she nodded, holding back laughter.

Aoba was truly talented.

She hadn't seen anyone be so threatening without meaning to at all. But Sharks aren't exactly aware they're considered frightening. Not until you were their next meal.

Haruhi Fujioka had no intentions of being so, instead she'd consider herself a lesser threat. More like a feeder fish.

Because she likes the remains of the initial attack. The remains of the defeated are exactly her type.

"Oh Haruhi, are we having the fish you like with those friends of yours?"

"I think we should. They've never gotten to taste it the Serigaki way. I think it'd blow them out the water."

_____________

Schnucki - "Sweety" according to Google translate

#yandere x reader #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere x you #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere harem #yandere ouran highschool host club #yandere ouran highschool #yandere ouran host club #yandere ohshc x reader #yandere ohsch #yandere ohshc #yandere haruhi x reader #yandere haruhi fujioka #yandere haruhi #yandere aoba serigaki #yandere noiz

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cocogum · 9 days ago

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What if Yugo never had a growth spurt because of Toross?

It’s strange to admit, but it needs to be said: Yugo’s growth would not have happened if his mother hadn’t returned. So if there's no eliatrope mommy, there's no toross going after Yugo's ass. Toross would never have been able to escape his prison if Nora hadn’t come along to try to rescue her mother.

Like think about the remarkable timing of witnessing this woman abruptly enter without any warning. She could have returned to the Inglorium hundreds or even thousands of years later.

I'm not saying it's impossible that she came back so soon. I'm just saying that there was also a high possibility that she couldn't have come on time when Yugo needed her to get to Toross.

The odds were 50/50 really. She could've come back anytime.

So let's say, for this hypothetical situation, the Eliatrope goddess didn't arrive on time. Now what? Yugo and his group would've been...stuck??

None of the demigods would have known how to return. Not even Dathura could do so without Sadida's magic flute. Since the gods would not be present to detect their arrival, they wouldn’t be able to help them escape from their realm. This indicates that entering the Inglorium requires the use of an artifact belonging to a god, an otherworldly object like a mechasm's heart, a dofus, or simply being a god. Similarly, leaving the Inglorium necessitates using one of the same means mentioned for entry.

So like....they're fucked??

Not having the Eliatrope goddess to take them back with portals means they would officially be stuck there. Damn.

And since the Inglorium is the realm of the gods, everyone except Yugo and the other demigods will not age. Oropo wanted to include mortals like Arpagone, Ruel, and Flopin because he understood that once they took on the place of their corresponding gods in Inglorium, the realm would be able to completely halt their aging.

As if that wasn't enough, their only connection to the World of Twelve will be through the gods' library, which records the lives of all living mortals in real-time.

Chibi and Grougal will grow up without Yugo, Adamaï, and eventually Alibert. They will have to manage the inn by themselves.

Armand will rule the kingdom and have an heir with Aurora. He will come to resent Amalia for never returning to him and for not witnessing their father's death as he called for her.

Kamasutar Junior will grow old and die without ever seeing Ruel again, just like how Az and his family will never see Yugo.

Madagaskan would only have been able to find Cleophee. She would have learned about him but would also be just as confused and anxious about where her sister and family went.

Ogrest would feel confused and saddened that he would not see Elely and Flopin anymore, while Otomaï would try to comfort him, genuinely wondering where they could have all gone.

The island of Irene would be left unprotected for a long time without Coqueline, leaving Yrehn alone with the Elante.

Poo would take care of the percedal family's home. As much as he would wonder where they are, he won't have anywhere else to go to, so he'll have no choice but to stay there for who knows how long.

There would have been no traces of the Brotherhood, and no one would have known if they were even alive in the first place. The people would likely have turned them into an old myth by then.

The Brotherhood would have been aware of everything their loved ones were doing by reading each of their mortal books, but they would have been powerless to intervene.

Time would have taken its natural course, and the group would have built their own places in the realm while living in constant fear, confusion, and horror at the idea of not being able to return without any artifact.

When the Eliatrope goddess finally arrives, it will be too late for anyone to reunite with their loved ones in the World of Twelve. Everyone will have already passed away, except for Chibi and Grougal, who will most likely feel betrayed by Yugo and Adamaï.

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wonder-mei · 11 months ago

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Fate has spoken (MK1 Bi-han)

Author's note; reminder this is not lore accurate to the Mortal Kombat universe. I write because they're hot. I also do no have beta reader or i read my fan fic from top to bottom to see any errors. I'm lazy okay.

“Is it true?”

A familiar soft voice appears behind him right after he enters his room upon arriving at the Lin Kuei Clan. Bih-han didn’t move an inch,just standing there not knowing what to respond to her. The light of his life.

“You already heard from the others. There’s nothing for me to tell you”

“I want you to tell me. Say it infront of my face,Bi-han”, her tone is frustrated but with a hint of sadness that she tried to bury.

The Lin Kuei grandmaster clenched his fists. His heart is beating. His heart always beats for her. The stern Bi-han who everyone fears and respects him has always been afraid of her. Her kindness and gentle nature scares him, the thing he fears is losing her.

Bi-han turns around. Her eyes are already on her on edge to cry from betrayal. The eyes that always sees him as human and shows him that kindness still exist in his miserable life, “I took Shang Tsung’s offer for more power…. against the Lin Kuei oaths”

A single tear dropped from her eyes. Bi-han stares at her fighting the urge to touch her “And i let father die”

“How could you,Bi-han. He’s like a father to me!”, all the memories of her with the former grandmaster plays in her mind. He welcomed her and her mother with open arms when he found them living by the street after the death of her own father. She and her mother were given a home to live comfortably by his generosity. “He believed you’ll be a great grandmaster for Lin Kuei!” she hits him in the chest “He believed you can take care of us,Bi-han…”

Bi-han just stood there letting her get her anger out on him “You have betrayed Lin Kuei,your family…. You have betrayed me,Bi-han. It hurts. It hurts so much…” she cries and cries showing her pain to him.

“If you won’t follow my orders as the grandmaster. You can leave”

Her heart skips a beat at his words, she tilts her head up looking into his eyes. His eyes tell he is also in pain, “I do not need you anymore here. Leave the Lin Kuei. I am not like my father. I am a tyrant like they called me”

“Does everything we had mean nothing to you?”

Bi-han stares at her shocked,the question is unexpected. Her voice and eyes are demanding him to tell the truth, “Were every night we had walking together in the forest means nothing to you? Tell me”

“No… all of those we had together does not mean nothing to me”

She takes a step away from him. Taking a deep breath without her eyes leaving him “Say that you love me”

Bi-han heart got more heavy. Somehow he forgot to breathe.

“Say that you love me and then I will leave… letting you go on what you desire in life”

Words stuck in his throat. He just stares at her as she stares at him too. She wants to know if their feelings are equal before they went apart forever, “Tell me,Bi-han”

“I…. i love you very dearly”

She can feel the weight she’s carrying on her shoulders lift up upon hearing his confession. Her heart melts even in this betrayal situation “And i too,love you Bi-han”

Bi-han witnesses her last smile he will ever see. He won’t see the kind smile ever again. She won’t even be by his side for now on. He doesn’t show emotions, he doesn’t want her to see him in weakness. But before he was not afraid to cry, this time was different. Those before she is with him to get through the tough time. Now, she won’t be there to comfort him.

“Goodbye,Bi-han. May you live your ambitions and… live with happiness.Farewell”

With that she left. Forever. Bi-han didn’t call her name or hold her hand to prevent her from leaving. He did nothing. Just standing there.

He stood there for hours. His mind is blank. With a heavy heart he left his room approaching her room. Her room is empty, her mother also cannot be seen. She brought her mother with her too. Bi-han closes the door, he sits in the middle of the room. Her scent is still in the room. He sits there to feel everything that is left in the room until her scent and present are gone forever.

“In every timeline, she still won’t be yours,Bi-han. I am sorry”

Liu Kang had told him that;even in multiple timelines existed, they are not fated to be together.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #bi han x reader #bi han x you #sub zero x reader #bi han mk #sub zero

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melancholy-of-nadia · 1 year ago

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love u lately (m) #5 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately chapter title: #5 - home girl pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: after getting entangled with jimin and him revealing that he knows your secret at the halloween party, you decide coming clean to yoongi about what happened would be the best choice. however, this doesn't come without consequences, as it creates a distance between you two. when jimin comes to remedy this with a wild idea, what would happen is something you'd never expect. warnings: halloween party ending bits, smut, cunninglingus, blowjob, alcohol/recreational drug mentions, swearing, kissing, A LOT, fingering, CONSENSUAL and PROTECTED sex, penetration, HEAVYYYYYY on the ANGST, does this count as cheating if they're not together, confessions???, good end of the chapter!, jimin being a wild card note: as always thank you to @daegudrama for editing this chapter and writing the smut as I struggled with life last month. truly appreciate all the hard work and support you give me to write this fic total word count: 10.5k drop date: December 13th, 2023, 4:00PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #4 | Series Masterlist | #6 →

“I knew it.”

Huh? What does he mean he ‘knew it?’ Knew what? Jimin’s response sounds coy, which is definitely not what you were expecting. A brief moment of silence and confusion passes by before you verbally react.

“Wait what?”

The ringing coming from your phone comes to an end. You guess Yoongi reached your voicemail and just hung up. You’re a little relieved, but that’s not the point. Forget the call! Forget the orgasm! What is Jimin talking about?

Jimin starts giggling, “Jungkook spilled the beans to me, actually.”

Jungkook? What? How does he know? You feel that you’re missing a big piece of information that Jimin is withholding from you and even Yoongi.

You grab Jimin’s arms, flipping him onto his back until you’re on top of him and straddling his thighs. Jimin’s eyes are agape confused by your sudden quick movements. You've always managed to over power him with your strength, which he has always admired. In a different scenario similar to that of an erotica novel, this would lead to steamy sex, however now you’re trying to get him to spill whatever he knows.

“Now tell me everything you know, Park!”

—————————————

October 13th [Sunday] — past —

"Are you good, Jimin?"

Jimin, caught off guard while deleting pictures and Irene's contact from his phone, replied, "I'm fine. It was long overdue anyway."

The purple lighting added an mystic ambiance to the conversation.

After Jimin broke up with Irene and she decided to leave the party, Jungkook entered the hallway where Irene had just left Jimin standing, eyes wide from witnessing their breakup. Jungkook, clearly a bit more talkative than usual due to the alcohol, casually put his arm around Jimin, concern etched in his features.

Clearly intoxicated, Jungkook's chattiness took a turn towards your direction. "So what finally got you to do it? Was it her?" He gestured towards you across the room, engaging in a lively conversation with Namjoon and Yoongi. Jimin’s gaze fixed on you in an endeared way, admiring the way you glowed and laughed while conversing with the two men. He admitted, "Maybe." Interrupting abruptly, Jungkook said, "Well, you better start making moves before it's too late, Jiminie, because—" He immediately covered his mouth, realizing he was about to spill something he shouldn't. "Because what? What are you talking about?" Jimin questioned, feeling a sudden pang of anxiety. Was there someone else already pursuing you? His mind raced, wondering if it was JB or someone else. He wouldn't let Jungkook leave without answers. The younger boy was suddenly sweating, eyes looking around for an escape to exit the scene he unintentionally created. "You better fucking spill, Jeon! I'm not letting you leave until you tell me." Jimin threatened, his voice a mix of sweetness and poison. Jimin is one of the scarier members in the house, so frankly, Jungkook was fucked if he stayed silent. The younger boy sighed, finally relenting, “Okay, fine. But will you please, please, PLEASE promise me you won’t get mad with what I’m about to tell you.” Rolling his eyes, Jimin held his pinky up, "Yes, I promise."

Sealing the promise with a pinky swear. Of course he won’t be mad, he thinks. How bad could it even be? "Okay, well, uh, do you remember last Friday when we couldn't have game night because the majority of us had plans except for honey and Yoongi hyung?" Jimin nodded, prompting Jungkook to continue. "So, um, they went to the Gamma party." Jimin eyed him curiously. "A party? So they lied about having a game night somewhere else. Interesting, keep going."

"Okay thought the only reason I know that is because my friend Yugyeom told me! I didn't know they went together. But when I came home earlier that Friday night since I wasn't feeling well…I...uh...I heard sounds."

"Sounds? What sounds—" It took Jimin a full minute to catch on to what Jungkook was hinting at, the realization dawning on him with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Fucking. They were fucking? No way. Yoongi was the one least likely out of the three of them to ever make moves on you first. Jimin had always assumed that even someone like Jungkook would've made the first move, especially since he had a minor crush on you last year. Not in a million years would he had thought Yoongi would do it.

"Are you being serious with me right now?" Jimin leaned into Jungkook, his eyes searching for any signs of deceit.

"Yes, the fuck? Do you think I would be lying to you?!" Jungkook defended himself, his tone firm and resolute. "No, this is just so insane. But wait, are they dating or something?" Jimin cut to the chase, seeking clarification.

Jungkook sighed, "I don't think so. I think they're still friends, but I haven't heard them do it since that time. So I don't know if it's anything more serious or just a one-night thing."

"Interesting."

"So you're not mad?"

"Nope. If they're still friends and maybe doing that on the side, I still have a chance."

"Jimin." Jungkook looked at his close friend, appalled that he would even say that.

Jimin continued to blabber out his thoughts, "I wouldn’t even mind if we’re both taking turns fucking her if he was done. Hell, maybe get Namjoon in on this too if he wants."

"JIMIN."

"Oh, sorry." Jimin paused as Jungkook cut him off, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. The alcohol had also exposed his inner desires, which wasn't entirely surprising. The house knew Jimin was adventurous in the sheets, but Jungkook hearing and know all these details made him rethink the life decisions that had led him to this peculiar group of people.

"But it seems they're being lowkey about it, so please," Jungkook implored, grabbing Jimin's shoulders and towering over him. "For the love of God, don't tell anyone you know what I just told you."

"I won't! Lips are sealed!" Jimin grinned, miming the action of zipping his lips and locking them with an invisible key.

Jungkook sighed, looking down at the older boy. He knew Jimin was a wild card, and the revelation of your situation with Yoongi could indeed flip the whole house upside down. He hoped Jimin would exercise discretion and make wise decisions with the new info he had been given, in a rather seductive manner, threatened to spill.

———————————

"Holy fuck..." you mumble curses under your breath as Jimin explains his story from weeks prior.

He ends it by explaining his decision to find you soon after to start planting ideas in your head, like that birthday kiss wish. He admits to acting like nothing happened afterward, just to see you stressed out, fully aware of how well he knew you.

You couldn't help but berate yourself for not checking everyone's location the night you got home from the party and fucked Yoongi. While you weren't exactly in you right mind, you were still rational enough to want what you did with him. Yet, you seemed to have missed the fact that Jungkook had entered the house while the deed was taking place. Maybe you’ll need to treat him to some bubble tea as an apology.

"I have a lot of questions to ask you, but one I should ask right now is, are you two dating?" He inquires, a mix of concern and curiosity in his voice.

You know the answer to this question is an obvious ‘no’, yet for some reason, a part of you wishes it wasn't. Before you can overthink it, you answer, "Nope. We're just...you could say, best friends with benefits?"

"And it's nothing serious?" Jimin inquires further.

"Well…no. We’re just…fucking each other?" Jimin looks at you waiting for you to continue with the new info drop you’re giving him. “It’s a long story…”

You really don’t want to get into the nitty gritty details about this right now. It would take all night and you know Jimin would jokingly call you an idiot for crafting up such an interesting friends-with-benefits deal with Yoongi just because you didn’t like that he and Namjoon were distancing themselves due to their relationships. Even thinking about that now, you’re not sure why you were so incredibly eager to do that.

"Good,” He answers right away, catching you off guard. “So I don't have to feel bad for doing this to hyung." He says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Confused, you look at Jimin until he playfully flips you back onto the bed, kissing up your neck. This back-and-forth banter reminds you of the playful wrestling you two engaged in as middle schoolers, only now the context is entirely different.

With gentle but firm hands, he takes hold of each of your wrists and presses them against your sides, keeping you in place. Before you can fully understand what’s going on, Jimin leans down and ducks his head under your skirt. His warm breath sends shivers down your spine as he wastes no time in flicking his skilled tongue against your already sensitive clit. You squirm against his grip on your wrists, desperately wanting to move your dress up to get a better view of him pleasuring you. The anticipation and desire building inside you is almost unbearable as he continues to expertly bring you closer to ecstasy with every flick of his tongue.

“Do you want me to stop?” He breathes out sending another shiver of pleasure up your spine.

“Don’t you dare, Park!” You reply in a haste, breaking your wrists free of his grasp.

With a light force, you push his head down, feeling giddiness within you as he eagerly obliges, his tongue zigzagging through your slick folds. His hands run up and down your thighs adding to the array of sensations coursing through your body. Your head falls back while your back arches in response to the one finger he uses to circle your entrance.

But as Jimin continues to suck, lick, and kiss your wet pussy with expert precision, you suddenly become aware of how uncomfortable your once cute angel wings are in this situation. Frustrated by their presence, you sit up just enough to rid yourself of the accessory, determined to fully enjoy the pleasure that Jimin is bringing you. His tongue works wonders on your sensitive skin, earning breathy moans from your lips. It's almost as if you can feel him smirking against you, his teasing movements only adding to the intense sensations enchanting you.

Jimin's hand slides under your ass, gripping and squeezing before he emerges from under your skirt. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand with a sly grin, your own heart fluttering in response. As he sits back on his feet, you reach for the button on his pants, eager to feel him against you. Your breath hitches as you trace the outline of his cock through his pants, drool pooling in your mouth at the thought of tasting him. In your drunken state, it takes you longer than usual to unbutton his pants and push down his boxers.

Finally free, Jimin's cock springs up, throbbing and ready for you to please him. You wrap your fingers around him, stroking lightly as you watch his reaction. His lips part as he sucks in a sharp breath of air, his eyes never leaving your face. Without hesitation, you dip your head and take his tip into your mouth.

“Are you sure you want to—” Jimin begins cutting himself off when your tongue begins swirling around his tip before sinking further, taking more of his length into your mouth. You’re definitely more than sure, you think.

With cheeks caving in and a steady rhythm, you expertly slide his dick in and out of your mouth, eliciting a song of pleasure from Jimin's pretty lips. Just when he's getting close to the edge, you pop your mouth off with a teasing grin, drawing a desperate whine from Jimin's mouth.

As much of a tease as he is, you would think he could handle some himself. With a devilish smirk, he guides you onto your back again before standing to remove his pants. As he grinds his naked cock against your slick folds, every cell in your body screams for him to just fuck into you already.

“Jimin, please!” You whimper, taking his cock in your hand and stroking.

“What do you want, Y/N?” He asks smirking like he knows you might be hesitant to ask for what you want.

“You.”

With that he stands searching for a condom in his pants before muttering curses. Jimin turns to Matthew’s bedside table, opening the top drawer first and finding what he was looking for. Also some things he wasn’t looking for. He holds up a whip thinking he is learning so much about his friend that he doesn’t want to know.

“Next time.” Jimin says with a wink and you can feel your face flushing despite the situation. This is definitely a premonition for something to come and you don’t know whether to be excited or scared.

With a swift motion, Jimin tears open the condom packaging using his teeth and expertly rolls it onto himself. He positions himself between your legs and lines up with your entrance, pushing in slowly and groaning at the ease of his entry.

And once he finally enters, it feels like pure ecstasy.

A curse tumbles from your lips as he reaches the hilt and holds himself there for a moment, savoring the tightness.

Unable to resist any longer, he leans over and captures your lips in a heated kiss as his hips begin to rock back and forth. The pace is anything but gentle, as if he's releasing all the pent-up sexual tension and frustration that has built up over the years. Jimin breaks away from the kiss, leaning back to thrust into you with even more force. Your body arches off the bed in response, and you can't help the moans and cries that escape your mouth.

"Do you want everyone to hear you?" His voice is laced with pleasure and teasing as his fingers dig into your hips, urging you closer to him.

“Oh, is that what you’re into?” You indulge him with your words, biting your lip in pleasure.

“Let’s talk about that another time.” Jimin laughs before he leans down to capture your lips again, his tongue pushing through and tasting all of you. His hips continue to thrust into you and the friction mixed with his tongue and warm breath is almost too much for you to take.

He thrusts into you with a fierce force, causing your whole body to jolt and your nails to dig into the sheets. Jimin flips you onto your stomach and kneads your ass with strong, experienced hands. You let out a small whimper as he positions himself on his hands and knees behind you.

Without warning, two of his fingers slip inside of you, stretching you in a way that makes you press your face into the soft mattress beneath you. For several seconds, Jimin drills his fingers in and out of you, making you moan in pleasure before you quickly cover your lips.

Just when you think you can't take it anymore, Jimin pulls his fingers out and pushes his cock back inside of you with one swift motion. His length is hitting new angles in this position, rebuilding the pleasure that was torn away from you earlier.

Jimin's hand comes down hard on your ass, giving a satisfying slap, before he lets you take charge. After a few moments of adjusting, you find a rhythm that elicits intoxicating sounds from deep within his throat. You are completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure when suddenly, a faint crackle fills the air behind you followed by the unmistakable scent of peach.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you shift your gaze over your shoulder to see Jimin taking a hit from a familiar vape pen – one that you've seen in Matthew's hands many times before. All movement halts as confusion washes over your face before quickly being replaced by desire once again when Jimin resumes thrusting his cock into you lazily as if it’s an afterthought.

“Jimin! Are you seriously vaping right now? And using Matthew’s pen!?” Your eyes widen as you watch him take another hit from the small device. He’s so unserious at a time like this, but it’s somehow attractive. He’s so hot.

Jimin exhales a thick cloud of smoke and then tosses the vape onto the other side of the mattress with a mischievous glint in his eye. He snickers while glancing at you and your amused expression. His strong hands grip your hips tightly as he thrusts deep inside of you, sending shivers down your spine.

And just when you think things couldn't get any more wild, Jimin blows out a stream of smoke and shapes it into a playful heart with his fingers, making you burst into giggles.

"Don't worry about it, angel." he says with a innocent grin before diving back to fucking you deep in Matthew’s mattress. This man is really hustling you with the same nickname Yoongi gave you… fuck.

He picks up the pace pounding into you, filling the air with the sound of your pleasure and skin slapping together. Heat is pooling in your stomach bringing you back to the brink of orgasm.

With a low growl, Jimin pulls away pulling you up to kiss your lips hungrily. He guides you onto your back and pulls your legs onto his shoulders. Heat and electricity surge through you as he effortlessly moves your legs onto his shoulders, positioning himself between them.

Jimin’s dick slides in easily and perfectly into the warm embrace of your body. The sensation is overwhelming as he rubs his thumb expertly over your clit, setting fire to every nerve ending in your body. You bite down hard on your lip to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.

Jimin's head falls back, lips parted in pleasure as he rides the waves of ecstasy building within him. Your best friend looks like a dream, with sweat glistening on his skin and his brows furrowed in concentration. And all of this pleasure is because of you.

His brow scrunches together when you clench your pussy around him, and it only fuels his desire further. He runs his finger quickly over your clit without resistance, thanks to the soaked state he’s left you in. His actions soon send you tumbling over the edge into pure blissful orgasm. Your toes curl and your legs shake as Jimin carefully removes them from his shoulders, leaving a soft kiss on the side of your leg.

As he pulls out and removes the condom, you watch curiously as he jerks himself off with one hand while looking at you lying completely spent and disheveled before him. It doesn't take long for hot ribbons of cum to spill from him and land on your legs, creating an erotic mess.

But the mood quickly shifts as Jimin loses his balance and falls onto the wet spot, making a mess of the sheets. You grab his hand and pull him upright, both of you bursting into a fit of giggles at the ridiculousness of the moment you two are in.

Surveying your wet patch on the sheets mixed with Jimin's own release, you can't help but laugh even harder. In this moment, there is no one else in the world but the two of you, lost in each other's company and overcome with pure joy.

"Fuck, we made a mess of Matthew's sheets," Jimin exclaims, looking down with panic.

"Huh? Oh shit!" You quickly get up, hastily fixing your outfit before darting into the closet, searching for extra clean sheets. Oh he’s going to be so pissed his marketing class team members just fucked on his bed.

Your eyes light up as you find your solution on the top shelf. "Jimin, please help me take off those sheets and put them in a basket or something! I need to put these clean ones on, and...how are we going to sneak them into the washing machine so he doesn't see or smell them!"

Panic takes over your tone, and Jimin finds amusement in your flustered state.

The two of you hurriedly set about cleaning up the evidence of your sex session, trying to maintain a semblance of order in Matthew's room. As you wrestle with the sheets, Jimin can’t help but chuckle at the comical situation unfolding before him. "I'll take care of the rest, darling," Jimin assures, placing his hand on your bare shoulder. "The majority of this house is drunk or stoned, so a guy carrying a bunch of sheets downstairs into the laundry room isn't going to spark obvious suspicion." He chuckles, in a way that sounds like what you imagine an actual angel to laugh like. "You should get your stuff and go back out to your friends. Tell me all the details about your thing with hyung tomorrow.” He pauses a bit before continuing “Talk to hyung too..something tells me that his sixth sense is aware."

Your tense shoulders deflate in slight relief, until they tense up once again at the thought of talking to Yoongi about this. You nod at Jimin, "Okay, I trust you'll do some 'Jimin Magic' and fix this, so I'm going now. I'll talk to Yoongs too, so, see you at home?"

"See you at home, love."

The endearing nickname, the same one Yoongi gave you, somehow gives off a different vibe when Jimin uses it. You can’t pinpoint why and decide not to dwell on it right now. Exiting the room, you head downstairs, pulling out your phone to type a message to Yoongi.

You [12:58 PM]: Sorry I couldn’t answer your call Yoongs.You [12:58 PM]: When you come back, can we talk?

+++++++++++++++++++++

November 5th [Monday]

Yoongi arrives at the airport early that morning, greeted by the sight of you waiting by the curb with Jimin's car with the trunk open. He smiles as he places his luggage in the trunk, appreciating the effort you made to pick him up. After a brief moment of pleading, you convince Yoongi to take the driver's seat since you are hesitant about driving Jimin's fancy car. Without much resistance, he agrees, and you settle into the passenger seat.

"So where to, princess?" Yoongi teases, catching you off guard with the nickname.

"Princess?!" You sputter, cheeks reddening. "You’re clearly the passenger princess here," He says, gesturing to your seat and chuckling.

"D-Damn, you just got back, and you already got me good, Min." You laugh, using your hands to cover your flushed cheeks. "Anyways, I was thinking of going to the breakfast place on Main Street."

You take your phone, perched on the dashboard, to navigate Yoongi on the road.

"Is this also where we're going to discuss what you wanted to talk about?"

You take a moment before responding, "Yeah, there was something we may have overlooked in our rules while I was too busy sealing the deal by giving you a blowjob." You shyly admit, your gaze focusing on the road as he starts to drive.

"I think I know what you mean." Yoongi chuckles, using his right hand to pat your head, reassuring you about the upcoming conversation.

The two of you change the topic for the time being, deciding to wait until you are at the restaurant to delve into the important discussion. The anticipation lingers in the air, adding a layer of tension to the otherwise casual breakfast outing. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It would be a lie to say that you’re not nervous to be having this conversation with Yoongi. It’s odd. You’ve never been this nervous about talking to him. It’s always been easy to approach Yoongi when it comes to difficult topics compared to your other besties. He always takes a more logic or reason-based approach rather than letting his feelings consume him. He’s the Yin to your Yang. When you tend to let your feelings get the best of you, he always comes to ground you with reason. Come on, Y/N. It’s a simple conversation. He’ll understand, right? Nothing can go wrong.

"So, we need to establish a new boundary in our agreement…" You finally let yourself begin, taking a bite of your blueberry pancakes.

"And the reason behind this is because..." Yoongi prompts after swallowing a piece of his bacon and spinach omelet that just arrived at the table.

Sitting on the restaurant's patio, shielded from the sun by a patio umbrella and surrounded by a variety of plants, you and Yoongi engage in a conversation. Despite it being November, it is comfortable enough to eat outdoors. You prefer the open space to avoid the risk of eavesdroppers inside the restaurant.

You fiddle around with your pancake, breaking the silence with, "Okay, you remember our talk about communication and our friends-with-benefits arrangement..."

Yoongi nods, signaling for you to continue with your confession. A momentary hesitation lingers, aware that Yoongi values straightforwardness without any sugar coating. This isn’t just about the communication rule; it is a characteristic of how he deals with everyone, especially you.

You sigh, making a deliberate effort to meet his gaze, conveying the sincerity of your words. "Well, I may have done something last week on Halloween...consensually, of course." Your eyes briefly wander, finding solace in a purple flower still blooming despite the season.

“You had sex with someone else?” “Yeah…” You continue, words carefully releasing from your lips from the anxiety. “I had debated that whole night before this encounter whether getting involved in this would break our agreement, but then I realized we never even discussed exclusivity.” You turn your gaze back to Yoongi, noting the firm expression on his face. However, his eyes betray a different story—they looked slightly glassy and sad. Despite this, he remains silent, leaving his thoughts unreadable. You hesitate to delve into what he might be feeling, fearing the unknown and the potential overthinking it could trigger.

Why did the weight of this situation suddenly hit you so hard? You aren’t in a relationship with Yoongi, yet it feels like cheating on him. In the past few days, you actively avoided confronting these conflicting emotions, aiming to shield yourself from the potential consequences. If you did, you probably would’ve tried to hide it in fear of the possibility of hurting him until you couldn't hide it anymore. But deep down, you know that wouldn't have lasted long; hiding anything from him is an impossible feat when he knows you so well.

"Would you mind if I asked who it was?" Yoongi inquires firmly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." His eyes look into yours reassuringly.

Although you're not obligated to share, you feel it is only fair to Yoongi that you reveal the truth. Keeping it from him would likely make you feel even worse. You are aware that Jimin, to some extent, also feels a level of remorse for this shared encounter, despite his enjoyment in the moment.

"It was Jimin." You reply in a similar tone, keeping your gaze fixed on Yoongi. A brief silence settles over the small space that contains you and Yoongi, feeling like it lasts a century. You decide to add on, “Jimin also found out about us, from Jungkook, actually.”

Yoongi’s eyes flickered in confusion at the added revelation. A thousand more questions popped onto his mind. Did he tell more people? But he figured Jungkook was smart enough to not blabber about this to anyone unless he was be forced it cough it up, by none other than Jimin. And it didn’t seem like anyone else knew, yet at least.

Finally, he sighs lowly, shifting his gaze down to his remaining food while rubbing his left temple. "Okay. Well shit, that was an oversight in our deal. I admit it."

Yoongi has pondered the possibility before, but he hasn't considered it a significant issue. Especially given his more prominent concern over JB, rather than Jimin, who was with Irene up until a few weeks ago. Namjoon is another factor that lingers in his thoughts since you ran after him when he and Jihyo broke up, but he seems to maintain a distance from anything too intimate with you. At least, from what he’s seen.

Jimin must’ve questioned you and made you realize on that oversight in the deal. Leading to what happened. Thought he isn’t sure.

Yoongi looks back at you and offers a smile, a gummy grin that makes you feel undeserving in this moment. "I don't know what you and Jimin did that led to that point, but don't feel bad. You did just as we agreed after all."

"No, I should've told you either way before that happened."

Yoongi internally wants to scoff. What could he have said if you had texted him about planning to hook up with Jimin that night he wasn't there? ‘Have fun? Let me know how it goes?’ The truth is, he’s in love with you. He wouldn’t be able to say that shit without it eating away at him. He cares about you and Jimin so much, and the thought of receiving a text from one of his best friends, that he’s in love with, saying they are going to fuck another one of his best friends, who he also cares about a lot, feels like a very fucking hard pill to swallow

Opting for a chuckle instead, he replies, "Yeah, but I'd rather not know about that." His attempt at lightening the mood is a feeble defense against the complex emotions swirling within him.

You look at him puzzled, uncertainty clouding your expression. Fuck, were you not supposed to say that? Did you fuck up that bad? Your mind raced with doubts; you thought communication should’ve been key.

"I'm so sorry, Yoongi." You apologize, the tightness in your chest growing as you witness his altered demeanor.

"It's fine." He responds in a feeble voice. Despite his words, you can’t shake the feeling that things aren’t as okay as he claims. The remainder of breakfast unfolds in silence. Soon after, Yoongi signals the waiter for the bill, pays it, and both of you make your way back to the car, driving home in a heavy atmosphere.

You offer to help Yoongi with his luggage when you open the trunk, but he signals with his hands that he has it covered. Walking inside together, a quiet heaviness lingers in the air. Before entering his room, Yoongi turns to address you one last time that day.

"Y/N, I'm going to need some time," He states, his words carrying a weight that mirrors the unresolved tension between you.

You sigh quietly, "I understand."

As he enters the room, the door closes with a deliberate yet not overly loud slam. It resonates enough to signify that he needs this space to process the revelations and emotions stirred by the day's unfolding events. Left standing in the hallway, you can’t help but wonder how this will impact the dynamics of your relationships with both Yoongi and Jimin in the days to come.

Back in your room, you throw yourself onto your bed, burying your face in the pillow in frustration. The weight of the situation presses down on you. You don’t know how long it will take for Yoongi to process. You’ve never really fought with Yoongi before compared to Jimin and Namjoon. Any disagreement you’ve had with Yoongi was very minor, like firmly saying strawberries are better than tangerines. Even during times when you’ve upset each other before, you two would quickly resolve things, whether it was through a heart-to-heart talk or food. Food is always the friendly option in a ceasefire between you all.

But this situation is entirely new and different, when will that happen…if it does?

You wouldn’t blame him if he decides it's best to end this agreement with him once and for all. Would you even want it to end?

You’re not sure if that’s what you want him to do.

++++++++++++++

In the evening, you meet up with your marketing class team in the library to continue working on your group project. Jin has a Kappa Psi Pi board meeting, and Matthew has an intramural basketball match, leaving you, Hwasa, and Jimin to tackle the remaining tasks for the night. After completing the slide deck, Hwasa, with a midterm to study for, finishes her part of the work and heads back to her dorm.

Now, it's just you and Jimin in this small study room, working on the paper portion of the assignment.

Jimin has been sensing that something isn’t right since you entered the room earlier. He knows you were supposed to be talking to Yoongi today about the events at the Halloween party. By the looks of it, he doesn’t think the talk went well. He decides to ask you about it.

"So, how did the talk with Yoongi hyung go?" Jimin inquires, his eyes reflecting genuine concern for your well-being. Despite your attempts to stay strong throughout the day, Jimin's question finally shatters your exterior. Tears stream down your face as sobs escape uncontrollably. The intensity of your emotions surprises you, and you struggle to pinpoint the exact reason behind this overwhelming surge of despair. After all, it was your choice to have sex with Jimin that night; there was no commitment or exclusivity with Yoongi to tie you down to him. You’re not dating each other. Yet, witnessing his saddened and upset expression has an inexplicable impact on your heart, leaving you burdened with an empty pit filled with guilt. What kind of friend are you, using him for sex and moving on to the next when he’s not around? You didn’t even have the audacity to at least tell him beforehand.

“Hey, hey,” Jimin gets up from his seat soon after the first tears fall and wraps you in a tight hug that cradles your head in his hands. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.” he reassures you, giving you a smile of encouragement as you nod, trying to control your sobs.

You pull away from him, taking a long breath, you open your mouth and finally speak again. “H-He said he wants to take some time away from me…I think he actually hates me…” You continue to sob.

It feels dumb somehow to be crying when you were the one who let everything happen with Jimin. It also feels dumb that you pushed this friends-with-benefits idea to Yoongi, only to be the one to hurt him as you failed to make rules that wouldn’t have you questioning them.

”Oh honey,” Jimin pulls you into another hug again. “Yoongi can’t stay mad at you forever. He’s literally like your soulmate. You guys are so alike, and I know he feels heartbroken to do this too. I feel like he’ll come around soon.” The doubt lingers in your voice as you question through sobs, "You really believe that?"

"Of course I do!" Jimin pulls away, gazing directly into your eyes with sincerity. He wipes your tears away with the sleeves of his purple hoodie. His words act as a reassuring remedy for your overwhelmed mind. Maybe he's right; Yoongi will come around. You're just overthinking everything, scared because you've never faced this kind of thing before. But looking back at your past, you managed to overcome obstacles and reach resolutions, right?

Your mind drifts to your past relationship with Yeonjun, the one time you weren't able to do that.

You don't want to end up in the same situation, growing strained from your best friend.

With a heavy heart, you and Jimin manage to compose yourselves and finish up some of the remaining parts of the project that night in the small study room. The weight of everything lingers in the air, and as you both head home, your thoughts continue to bother you. The uncertainty of when you and Yoongi will be able to speak to each other again weighs heavily on your mind, leaving you in a state of contemplation and anticipation.

++++++++++++++ November 16th [Friday]

The lingering tension between you and Yoongi seems to magnify with each passing day. The unspoken unease hangs in the air. As the days progress, a noticeable distance grows between you and Yoongi, creating an emotional chasm that neither of you seems eager to bridge.

Yoongi usually wakes up early before you and makes breakfast before you two head off to campus to go wherever you need to go. However, after Monday, he wakes up early, eats and leaves campus without you. Even in the evenings, when he comes home from classes or work, he barely mutters a single greeting before he scurries to his room. Luckily, because everyone has been busy with studying for midterms, no one questions his change in behavior.

However, the lack of any effort of communication from Min Yoongi starts to raise concern from Jimin.

He knows how Yoongi is like a soulmate to you, and reassures you that he can’t be upset for too long. But now it’s Friday evening, 11 days since you last genuinely talked to Yoongi. Too long. Jimin feels like he needs to get more involved since you getting into this mess was very much his fault. He cares about Yoongi, and while he too, loves you, this wasn’t fair of him to do.

There’s also the friends-with-benefits deal that you and Yoongi have. He still has many questions about how and why it even happened, which you have yet to really answer. The one thing he’s sure about is that he senses that neither of you want to end it despite this strain he caused.

There's also a part of him feeling bitter at the thought of just continuing his life knowing his best friends are sleeping with each other until God knows when. Will this eventually lead you guys to date and eventually marry each other? Is this how Jimin will lose the girl he’s been interested in for years? He trusts Yoongi with his and your life as well, but he doesn’t like the thought of just letting Yoongi end up with you. What if there was a solution that could satisfy everyone in this situation? Jimin, being the wild card he is, comes up with an idea.

Determine to address this conflict, he approaches Yoongi's room and knocks on the door. "Hyung, can you come out?"

Evening falls, and the house that has been a hub of laughter and camaraderie now echoing with a quiet solemnity. Yoongi and Jimin are the only ones home at this time, which is perfect timing for the confrontation. You, Hoseok and Namjoon are gone on a Trader Joe’s run to get more groceries for the house. Jin, Jungkook, and Taehyung are gone to compete for the university’s first esports tournament.

Jimin is a bit worried that Yoongi will be stubborn and refuse to open the door. If that happens, he plans to stand outside his window making noise until he decides to open it. Luckily for him, he doesn’t have to do that. Yoongi opens the door slightly ajar and looks at the younger man.

"We need to talk." Jimin asserts with a serious tone.

"About?" Yoongi yawns, feigning ignorance as to why Jimin is here. Though, a couple of theories swirl in his mind.

"You know what about!"

Yoongi lets out a groan, opening the door wider and gesturing for Jimin to enter. The room is cast in partial darkness, the ambient glow of LED strip lights on the ceiling and the illumination from Yoongi's laptop the only sources of light. Jimin settles on Jin's bed, positioned across from Yoongi's, as the air becomes charged with the weight of an impending conversation.

"Say what you gotta say, Jimin. I'm not really in the mood to talk." Yoongi responds, his tone carrying a coldness that sets the stage for a tense conversation. He takes a seat on his own bed, exuding an air of detachment.

“Asshole,” Jimin mutters under his breath, biting back the urge to argue. He knows any confrontation might result in an immediate dismissal from the room, cutting off any chance of dialogue. Instead, he pushes ahead with the purpose of his visit.

"Let's both be Y/N’s friends with benefits."

Yoongi's eyes widen, a mix of surprise and disbelief crossing his face. The proposal catches him off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless. Out of all the things he was expecting, this was not one of them at all. Did he really hear that right? "Huh? What did you just—"

"You heard me, Yoongi. Let's both fuck Y/N for a period of time, and then make her pick between us."

Yoongi scoffs at the proposition, disbelief etched across his face. Jimin must have lost his mind, he thinks. The competitive antics of their high school days, especially the virginity race, was one thing, but this suggestion takes the cake for ‘insane shit Park Jimin wants to do’. Words fail him momentarily.

"Whoa. Out of all the shit I thought I'd be hearing you out on, this was not one of them."

"What's so crazy about the idea? You're in love with her, aren't you?" Jimin points out.

Yoongi's eyes widen even further, blinking rapidly, and a flush of bright red colors his cheeks as if he were intoxicated. Love. He recalls the way you’d smile at him with those soft pink lips and sparkling eyes whenever you were intrigued with some of the random bullshit fun facts he’d talk to you about. He loves that about you. When he was 11 years old and fixated on marine biology for a period of time, he would talk to you about unique kinds of fish in the vast ocean and you would respond with further questions out of curiosity. For the first time in his life, he felt like someone was genuinely interested in spending time with him and hearing him out on whatever nonsense he wanted to share. Later on, he started making music because of you. You were the one who went to one of his piano recitals and suggested that he should make his own music. "Yoongi, you really do have so much talent and potential. Wouldn't it be cool if you made your own music and shared that with the world instead of playing pieces that already exist?" you once told him. This advice led him to study music production as a major, with a minor in psychology, driven by the desire to use music as a means of healing—a realization you inspired.

However, was his crush on you over the years that obvious to Jimin? What does that say about everyone else? Do they know? Do you even know how much he is in love with you?

Recalling that Friday night a month ago, he remembers confessing that he had wanted to touch you for so long. Does that revelation linger in your memory, or are you still oblivious to the emotions he has harbored over the years? Now, Yoongi finds himself questioning the sudden proposal of a fuck buddies arrangement and its purpose. Was it merely a distraction from the others, or does it signify something more?

"I am," Yoongi admits to Jimin, prompting a brief silence before he adds, "And what are you trying to say?" "Have you told her?" Jimin presses on.

Reluctantly, Yoongi admits, "No."

"Because you don't want to ruin the friendship we have, right?"

"Exactly."

"Then we're both in the same boat! I like her too, and I haven't told her yet." Yoongi scoffs at Jimin's words, leaving the younger man puzzled. He has been more concerned about Namjoon being the one to potentially sway you away, not Jimin. Until a few weeks ago, Jimin really had seemed committed to his relationship with Irene—a rare occurrence. Jimin usually hops in and out of relationships, so this revelation sounds a bit unbelievable to Yoongi.

Yoongi sneers at Jimin's revelation, disbelief etched in his voice. "You like her too? The guy with the largest body count in this house since high school?"

Jimin responds with a seriousness that belies his usual carefree demeanor. "What's so hard to believe? I've liked her since we were in the last year of middle school together. I was just...scared. So I coped in other ways to move on, but it never worked."

"Scared of telling her and changing our friendship? Welcome to the club." Yoongi sarcastically chuckles, narrowing his eyes at Jimin.

Jimin groans in frustration. "I know you, Namjoon, and I had an unspoken agreement in high school that we wouldn't get involved with her like that, but I think that's out of the window since you two decided to fuck behind our backs. I'm not okay with letting that happen because I like her too. So why don't we become her fuck buddies, and then she picks which one of us she wants to be with?"

"This is fucking ridiculous," Yoongi facepalms at the idea Jimin is proposing. He leans back against the headboard, his expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. "We don't even know if she loves us in a romantic sense or if she'd be down to do something like that."

Jimin, undeterred, leans forward, his eyes searching Yoongi's for any sign of agreement. "Then how did you make it happen, huh?" He raises an eyebrow, a challenge in his tone. Yoongi, once again, isn't really sure how to answer the question. He takes a deep breath before he spills his own point of view of the situation from weeks ago.

"She was upset because of you and Namjoon being assholes, so I kissed her to distract her from those thoughts, and she kissed me back. Then we just came home and fucked. Then a few days later, she just came up to me while I was TA-ing, saying that she wanted to be fuck buddies. And me, being fully in love with her, agreed. I didn't question her motives nor did I want to."

"I'm guessing you hoped she would eventually start to fall for you through that experience." Jimin comments, a speculative tone in his voice. Yoongi sighs, but nods in agreement. Jimin. finally understanding the sequence of events that led to the being friends with benefits. Though, he wonders about your feelings. Why else would you want to do that with Yoongi? The same question lingers in his own mind regarding his own actions on Halloween. There has to be underlying feelings that pushed both of you to take such risks. Feelings still left untold by you.

After a bit of contemplation from Yoongi, he finally breaks the silence. ”Mm, I wouldn’t be opposed to your idea, Jimin.” Jimin beams at Yoongi’s words as he continues. "Maybe through this, we could get a definite answer about who she'd rather be with. Then we can finally be free and move on from the feelings we have for her and find other people." Yoongi feels a bit liberated by saying his thoughts. As much as he'd love to keep this up forever, he wants to truly shower you with his uttermost love and affection instead of being bound to the restrictions of this friends with benefits situation. He knows it would hurt both of you in the long run due to uncertainty of your futures.

"Exactly! So please don't be mad at Honey or me anymore for what happened. I know nothing we do will be able to turn back time to whenever you made your arrangement, but this new agreement will provide more clarity for all of us." Jimin explains, seeking understanding from Yoongi.

"I hate to agree to this, but fine. Let’s try this," Yoongi nods in agreement. "We should talk to her in her room when she gets back."

"Really?!" Jimin's response carries a hint of excitement, slightly more than he intended, prompting a chuckle from Yoongi. "Sounds good." he adds, signaling a tentative step toward resolving their intertwined feelings.

+++++++++++++

You just got home from buying groceries with Namjoon and Hoseok. While you hoped that leaving campus for a bit would take your mind off of Yoongi, it doesn’t prove to be as effective as you want. It’s been days and you don’t really know what to do except wait. Though it’s not easy because in no way are you a patient person. If you didn’t have Jimin or Hwasa to talk to about your struggle, you would’ve been having an agonizing time. Hwasa advised you earlier to do what you felt was best, but you didn’t know what that could be. You care a lot about Yoongi, and seeing him hurt makes you realize you never want to see him in that position again. Is it the best idea to end this arrangement? You don’t really want to do that, and that makes you question things further. Do you actually love him beyond the scope of friends?

As more questions continue to plague your mind, you decide to go up to your room to change into your pajamas after helping unload groceries.

What you don’t expect to find once you close your door and turn on the lights are Yoongi and Jimin sitting on your bed with their arms crossed.

"Holy fucking shit?!" The exclamation bursts from you in fear, but before you can utter any more words, Jimin hastily shushes you.

"Please shut up before you make the other two downstairs suspicious!" Jimin insists with an aggressive whisper. As he utters those words, Namjoon's voice drifts from downstairs, inquiring if something is wrong.

”Uh, nothing wrong! Just…killed a spider!” You open the door and shout back to him, receiving a nonchalant 'okay' before closing and locking your door this time.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on?" You whisper, eyeing both men with suspicion, unsettled by their secretive behavior.

"Well, the good news is that Yoongi's not mad at us, right, hyung?" Jimin nudges the older man gently in the side, and Yoongi nods while looking at you.

Your shoulders slump in relief upon hearing and seeing that Yoongi's doing better. "O-Okay, that's great. But I'm assuming there's gotta be something else to this, isn't there?"

Yoongi and Jimin both gesture for you to come sit on the bed so they can speak to you closer and avoid being too loud for anyone else in the house to hear. Yoongi clears his throat. "What I'm about to say might sound crazy, but Jimin proposed this idea that he wants us both to be your fuck buddies."

Similar to Yoongi’s reaction when Jimin spoke to him earlier, your eyes bulge out in shock over his bluntness. Did he really just say that him and Jimin both want to be your fuck buddies. Huh?! What even led them to reach this conclusion and propose this idea to you? While the idea sounds crazy, yet enticing, it definitely sounds too good to be true. They can’t be serious, can they?! What the fuck.

”Hahahahaha!” You find yourself suddenly giggling manically with hints of nervousness laced to your laughs, but then you remember you have to keep quiet so you cover your mouth. They stare at you with confused expressions on their faces. “You guys are joking right? Is this a test of my loyalty or what? I’m trying to understand the motives behind this.”

”We…” Jimin slowly voices out, with hints of hesitation and fear. “We have feelings for you, Y/N.”

Huh…

Your heart instantly drops to your ass as he finishes his sentence. You stop laughing suddenly and look at them anxiously.

Did Jimin really just say that they both have feelings for you? No way. This new revelation just adds onto the previous questions you had within the last month. You remember when Hwasa said that Yoongi seemed obviously in love with you last year, but you brushed it off by saying he’s being kind to you because you’re his best friend. Maybe she was really cooking with that theory, you think. On the otherhand, Jimin breaking up with Irene, coming to find you right after and kissing you? Could they really think of you beyond being their best friend? Or is this just because we’re horny college students mistaking an orgasm high for something else…

"What...feelings for me? When? How?"

You've been evading the questions Yoongi posed to you on that October night at the GOT party. The notion of being in love with your best friends feels forbidden, but you fear you can't escape those thoughts any longer as you’re being presented with this deal.

"We talked, and we thought this would be a good way to figure out whatever feelings we’ve been struggling with, while also… enjoying ourselves?" Jimin's voice is hesitant as he struggles to articulate this in the most convincing way possible. He's a business student and can't pitch this idea, he screams internally. Well, to be honest, he never thought he'd ever have to pitch this to anyone.

Yoongi cuts in before Jimin could say something else, "I thought he was insane too, not gonna lie. Even hesitated smacking him—"

"Hey!" Jimin uses his elbow this time to smack him in the side, making Yoongi wince.

"But he had good points. And also, you've been clearly trying to figure out your feelings since I asked you how you felt about us that one night. Maybe this will help you figure out some of those answers." Yoongi hits the nail with those words, sparking an epiphany within you. As crazy as the idea sounds, maybe this really could help resolve your dilemma. Oh god, you're really about to agree to this.

There's a bit of silence as you glance at both of them. You still have a lot of questions about their alleged feelings for you, but you go ahead and respond, "I-I'm down for the idea."

"You are?!" Both men say in unison, each with a different tone.

"Yeah, but we just really have to set better boundaries this time so we don't end up in another fight. Please." You look at them with pleading eyes, hoping to avoid another conflict with them. They exchange glances and nod in agreement.

Yoongi clears his throat, breaking the momentary silence. "Alright then, let's establish some to make sure we don't mess things up again." He leans back on his palms, breaking into a smirk. "Rule number one, we need to be brutally honest with each other. No cryptic messages, no hidden meanings. Just straight talk, yeah?"

Jimin, slouching comfortably, nods, "Yeah, I like that. We could also add a rule on emotional check-ins. We’re still best friends at the end of the day, so we gotta make sure we’re all doing this and we’re feeling good about it. And if any of you are having doubts, we need to discuss it, like hyung said."

"Oh! That’s a good one!” You add, tapping your fingers on your knee, trying to think of something else. “Transparency is kinda similar to Yoong’s idea, but just want to add that so we don’t keep secrets from each other. I’m going to be sleeping with both of you, but we don’t have to stay exclusive if you don’t want to. Just let me know whatever booty calls you decide to have and I’ll let you know too. Don’t think I will have any more though!” You laugh lightly, trying to brighten up the atmosphere from this tough conversation.

You know you’ll be plenty occupied being filled by 2 men, so the thought of someone else filling up another slot doesn’t cross your mind right now. Maybe it does, but you’re actively trying to avoid thinking about it too hard. That person would make things more complicated than these two.

Yoongi nods silently in agreement while Jimin responds, "Yeah, I agree with that. I don’t think we’ll get involved with anyone else because we’re trying to settle this, but we’ll keep the rules in mind,”

“Any other stuff we're missing?" Jimin continues, staring at both of you before he clears his throat to speak up, “Well, it’s time to bring up my grand idea to make things more exciting: experimentation. I don’t know if you two had something like that.” Well, it was mentioned, but you guys didn’t do anything too crazy besides the blowjob in Mr. Kang’s office and the mirror sex. Otherwise, things were pretty tame. You exchange glances with Yoongi, both intrigued and wary. "We kinda did, but we didn’t really do much. What kind of things are you suggesting we experiment." The idea excites you, injecting a thrill into arrangement, yet beneath the excitement lurks a hint of nervousness. The unknown territory of experimentation sparks curiosity, but you wonder how it will affect the dynamic between you three. What things could they both even suggest? "You'll find out soon," Jimin says, a deep smile forming, his eyes transforming into crescent moons. It sends a shiver down your spine—this man is undeniably dangerous. "But, of course, consent is crucial in whatever we do. And protection! We'll use condoms, and it's up to you if you wanna use birth control. I know it sucks for you guys."

You’re glad Jimin is aware of the complications of women’s birth control and is considerate of your needs. The birth control idea is something you'll need to think about, but it does spark a tinge of fear to use it. Though, there is something you wanted to try out and that would require you on birth control. You’ll see.

“Would a group chat between us be good to stay up to date or whatever?” Yoongi suggests. You and Jimin hum and nod in agreement. Yoongi begins setting it up, naming it 0309x1013. Right after he does that, he looks up, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Now, we gotta seal the deal somehow,"

You look at him innocently, "Seal the deal? How?" You of all people know how this went last time with Yoongi, but you want to hear from them this time.

Both Yoongi and Jimin exchange a knowing glance, and then Jimin speaks up, "How about with a kiss?"

Your eyes widen in surprise. The thought of a kiss catches you off guard, especially with the awareness that Namjoon and Hoseok could come up any minute to randomly check on you. You might not have enough time, and you realize you all need to act quickly.

"Are you sure we should do that, what about them?" you ask, a mix of curiosity and nervousness in your voice as you point out to the two men downstairs

"It’ll be fine!" Jimin shrugs, “We’ll be quick,”

"Yeah, and the kiss will make it official," Yoongi adds, his gaze still fixed on you.

You take a moment to assess the situation. The idea of sealing the deal with a kiss feels surreal, but you can't deny the underlying excitement. Glancing at the clock, you calculate the time left before Namjoon and Hoseok might come by to check on you since you haven’t returned downstairs. You did mention wanting to watch a movie with Namjoon after they finished putting groceries away. Shit.

"Okay," you say, a hint of a smile forming. "But make it quick. We don't want any unexpected guests."

The three of you lean in, creating a makeshift circle on your bed. The atmosphere is charged with a blend of anticipation and curiosity as the prospect of this unusual arrangement takes a concrete step forward.

As Yoongi and Jimin lean in to kiss your cheeks, the gesture feels surprisingly tender, a prelude to what's to come. Yoongi places a gentle kiss on your left cheek, while Jimin follows suit on the right. The air seems to crackle with a newfound intensity. Your heart is beating fast, and for some reason, you can sense that things are about to take an unexpected turn.

Just when you thought it would end there, Yoongi's actions catch you off guard. After planting a sweet kiss on your cheek, he quickly redirects his lips to yours with an undeniable hunger. The kiss becomes heated, fueled by a fire that seems to have been lingering beneath the surface. For a moment, you're swept away by the intensity. This kiss feels more intense than the first one you had with him. You find yourselves detaching, breathless as a thin string of saliva still keeps you connected

As you process what the fuck just happened, Jimin seizes the opportunity. With a sly smile, he leans in, taking over where Yoongi left off. The transition is seamless. Jimin's lips, warm and soft, carry a subtle taste of anticipation as they meet yours. The sensation is both thrilling and delicate, creating a vivid contrast to the bold move he just orchestrated. The plushness of his lips melds seamlessly with yours, each movement leaving a lingering lust. Just as you feel yourself get more into it, he lets go of your lips. You’re still stuck in the haze of lust when you suddenly hear the distinct sound of footsteps ascending the stairs. Fuck. Panic sets in, dispersing the remnants of horniness as the reality of your situation dawns on you. With a synchronized effort, you and the two men scramble to discreetly rearrange yourselves around the room, attempting to appear less conspicuous. You go into the bathroom.

Just as you manage to compose yourself, a knock echoes through the room, and Jimin swiftly moves to open the door. He opens the door, revealing Namjoon on the other side, you try to suppress the nervous flutter in your chest. Jimin's casual greeting conceals the recent tumultuous events within your room. “Oh! Hyung, hello!” Jimin looks surprised, and smiles.

“Jimin? You’re here,” Namjoon remarks, his gaze briefly darting around the room and sees the other cat-eyed man seated on the floor scrolling on his phone. “Yoongi too? Where’s Y/N?” He’s a little caught off guard by the little club in your room, but nothing too suspicious because you all are best friends.

Yoongi nonchalantly points to the bathroom. “She’s in the bathroom taking a shit.”

You can't help but scoff from behind the closed door, annoyed at Yoongi's less-than-dignified explanation. "I’m not! I’m changing!" you retort, cursing Yoongi silently for his misinformation.

Namjoon lets out an understanding sound. "Well, I have the TV set up so we can watch the movie. You better come down after you finish," he shouts towards your direction before heading back downstairs.

As the coast clears, you slide down against the bathroom door in relief, feeling the weight of the chaotic deal you’re in.

“This is the virginity race all over again, isn’t it?”

Yoongi and Jimin can't help but chuckle at your question from outside the door. Their laughter, in a strange way, reminds you of the random antics you all would get involved in from high school.

A time when your best friends would orbit your life like planets encircling the sun. Things are really starting to feel back to normal.

However these grown men now, with their absurd proposal and spontaneous antics, will undoubtedly be the end of you.

tbc :o a/n: still so much left to uncover! holidays are approaching for these peeps, so many questions left unanswered, also NAMJOON. we need more of him so don't worry I'M ON IT! anyone have any thoughts? i'd love to heart about them so lmk hehehe if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! reblog, like, share with friends!

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