#if you do not ask for happy ending I will have fun with angst | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crescenthistory · 5 months ago

Text

It's Nice To Have A Friend

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Synopsis: Remus' childhood best friend is the only person he is comfortable showing unrestrained affection towards – until he one day gets in his own head about it.

Words: 14.4k

Warnings/tags: there are some suggestive remarks, brief references to "shagging" and implied underage drinking, but i would classify it as safe for minors! fem!reader, use of y/n, childhood best friends to lovers (thus you grew up in wales and use welsh terms, but you aren't said to be welsh), you are in ravenclaw (only for one plot point, not personality), platonic physical affection, romantic physical affection, kissing, "it was revealed to me in a dream" trope, some miscommunication trope, deep yearning, remus' pov (meaning loads of self-loathing and overthinking), panic attack-ish, remus cursing like a sailor and joking about jumping, kind of shy/reserved!remus, some angst, happy ending ofc, background jilypad

Note: phew this was intense but sosososo much fun to write. it is very much a fluffy fic tho, don't be worried<3 i fucking love this story/dynamic so much

a blurb about their happily ever after

It is an ill-kept secret that Remus John Lupin struggles with romantic public displays of affection.

It was something his best friends had teased him relentlessly for since the first time he was given a Valentine Day’s card in year two by a boy that he didn’t even have a crush on mind you, and became a stuttering, spluttering mess. He could still hear James and Sirius’ barks of laughter the second that Hufflepuff was out of view and could still feel the bench shake from when Peter fell off it, clutching his stomach. Remus had been sure his cheeks would be permanently dyed red from the shame.

His one friend who did not betray him in such a manner was his oldest, namely you. Remus’ sweetheart, as Sirius called you, his childhood best friend from back home who he broke the statute of secrecy for when he was too young to realise what that meant, but who thankfully turned out to be a witch too. Something you both wept tears of joy for, as you did not have to be separated when he went off to Hogwarts.

On that horrid day, you only pinched his darkening cheeks and laughed quietly – still teasing, but in a way that felt more like admiring and less like humiliating. He faintly remembers scrunching his nose at you in response, a look you immediately mirrored before you went to hide him in the crook of your neck and gave the others a faux scolding for “embarrassing poor Rem when he is wholly capable of doing so himself”.

His makeshift pack of friends kept that routine up for the rest of his school years, consisting of James and Sirius poking constant fun, Peter enjoying it all a tad bit too much, and you “protecting” him while laughing all the same. His affliction only worsened throughout his time at Hogwarts, but if one of his afflictions were to be the butt of a joke, he supposed he was grateful it was this one.

In moments like these, it was a tad bit difficult to keep that sentiment up, though.

“You should have seen the look on his face, doll!” Sirius made out through a laugh as the group made their way back from Hogsmeade.

He was recounting Remus’ dance on the Three Broomsticks dancefloor with one slightly-more-rowdy-than-normal Emmeline Vance who all but dragged him out there despite his quiet sputters. You had been off on some endless errands that Remus had passionately attempted to join you for before Sirius all but bolted him to the bench because “you owe me a round, you mangy wolf”.

“I believe I have seen it many a time, Siri,” you laughed out, yelping slightly when Remus pinched your side from where he had his arm around you. “Hey!” you scolded him half-heartedly, point diminished by your grin.

“Cheeky minx, don’t side with the devil!” Remus conspired with you through a stage-whisper while glaring at Sirius, whose laughter only doubled in intensity.

“You can’t ask me to lie for you, del,” you replied in the same tone of voice, leaning up to kiss his cheek as if to apologise for your treachery. An apology that was wholly accepted as Remus tugged you closer into his side and allowed for the laughter around him to continue with a sigh.

Because therein lies the one exception – Remus Lupin was pathetically incapable of public displays of affection, unless they were with you.

His problem with these displayals was the insinuation behind them and the attention that was brought to him because of it. If Emmeline dances with him, leaving a scandalously little amount of room between them, he knows what she wants from him and everyone else does, too. If his current romantic partner kisses him in the hallway, it is a glimpse into something that otherwise occurs behind closed doors, a reveal of his private life that he does not enjoy. He wants that part hidden, and embarrassment flares through him like a rocket at the thought that others bear witness to it – and then the flames are stoked when they notice that he knows and has enough dignity to be embarrassed, which just fuels an eternal evil cycle.

You, however – your wonderful self he has known all his life, you who refused to ever leave his side despite his lycanthropy and subsequent grumpy, isolationist persona, you who are his absolute better half and light of his life – there was no reason that affection should be hidden. There was nothing secretive nor fragile in your relationship, it was the purest thing he had ever had the pleasure of having.

There was nothing insinuative or blasphemous about it, there was nothing to be held against him. He would hold you, hug you, even kiss your shoulder, cheek and forehead, because he and all else around knew that it meant nothing more. It was nothing out of the norm, nothing for others to point out and bring attention to. There was no glance into something hidden away, there was no line being overstepped. It was just two best friends, aware and proud of how much they meant to one another.

So Remus never had any hesitations about leaning into your touch, about seeking yours out, about lips identifying exposed skin and staying there for a moment or two. It was something he began doing before he truly knew what embarrassment entailed, it was muscle memory as much as instinct these days.

And if others did not understand it fully, that was an issue Remus for once felt no confinement to public opinion on. If people made assumptions or threw glances, it held no importance to him. Even his Marauders, Sirius especially, raised their eyebrows at your proximity when you all first met, but they understood the routine of it all quickly. That these two first years before them were a package deal in every form of the word. It was quickly accepted within your little pack, albeit fondly commented on every now and again. James had Sirius in that same unrestrained way, bodies strewn across each other at any given opportunity, so why couldn’t Remus have you? Why wouldn’t he?

Never mind that Sirius was officially brought into James and Lily's relationship at the end of last term.

“Well, James would hug anything that moved and seemed like it might need it.” Sirius had argued one night many years ago, not needing to add the and I need it.

“And isn’t that lovely for Prongs,” Remus had drawled in return. “But I need a few years to get there, and Y/N happened to be more strategic than you lot.”

“By knowing you first?”

“Precisely. Also, she’s lovelier than you.”

It had earned him a snort and a pillow to the face, but it was accepted without further questioning. With the exceptions only occurring in a drunken babble here and there from Sirius, alone in their dorm after a party. Remus is quite certain he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence if his life depended on it in those states, and so he never took it to heart.

Remus revelled in having something of his own, someone only he understood on that level, and his heart always warmed when he thought about how lucky he was that that someone was you.

He subconsciously pulled you even closer at that thought, content and comfortable to do so whether that be around his marauders or in front of the whole Great Hall; there was nothing more to it to be embarrassed of. It was just you; just Y/N and Remus. Like always.

“You occluding yourself away from your menace of a dorm mate?” you whispered to him then, and he angled his chin down slightly with a smile to find you looking at him curiously.

“Oh, yeah,” Remus agreed with a solemn nod. “Must prepare for being locked up in a room with him all night. It’s tedious work, you know?”

“Most certainly.” You attempted to match his faux severity, but a giggle escaped you nonetheless – a beautiful one that Remus decided to mentally save for the night, should Sirius become unbearable.

Speaking of; “I take great offence to that,” Sirius proclaimed from the few strides ahead he was, pointing his finger in Remus’ direction without turning around. “Dog-like hearing, Moony, don’t think you can get away with badmouthing me here!”

“Dog-like he says,” Remus whispered to you, earning him an indignant “oi!” as Sirius finally turned around.

“Gorgeous, would you tell your worse half to knock it off?”

“I sure will,” you declared, turning your body more towards Sirius in Remus’ grasp. “Siri, sweetheart, would you knock it off?”

Within the second, Sirius’ offended expression transformed into one of giddiness. “Awe, princess, you think of me as your other half?”

“Worse half, Pads,” James interjected, looking over his shoulder bemusedly.

“Do keep up,” Remus added with a half-hearted glare.

“Irrelevant!” Sirius threw his hands up and spun around in celebration. “I have won the title of her other half, you can get lost Moons.”

Remus used his arm around your shoulders to angle you back away from Sirius. “I think not. I’ve been keeping this friendship for so long, she’ll need a lawyer to get rid of me,” he stated matter-of-factly, looking down at you at the last bit. “Capiche?” He tilted his head at you.

You hummed through a poorly-withheld smile, as if you were considering it. “Sure thing, cariad. Meet with our lawyers tomorrow after lunch?”

Remus gasped as you ripped out of his grasp and stuck your tongue out at him. Flashbacks of your younger days chasing each other down dirt roads came to his mind and widened his grin as he saw you back away from him, eyes trained on his expression.

“Minx,” he breathed out through a laugh just before you sat off running away from him; Remus hot on your heels, laughter escaping him freely. Sirius began running with you, though he was slowed as he twirled around and hollered, surely waking the entirety of the mountaintops surrounding the castle.

James had been minding his own business for once as he engaged in quiet conversation with Lily and Pandora, but his eyes twinkled as he eyed his three running friends, exchanging a knowing look with the redhead.

“Young love,” Pandora sighed dreamily, though James could never be certain if she was looking at the loud, carefree forms before them or at something entirely different.

Remus saw you stopped running while still some dozens of metres away from the castle, still facing away from him, but arms opening to accommodate for the impending crash of his body against yours. It does something funny to his heart to think about, but he just lets it widen his smile as he did exactly as expected – let his arms loop around your waist and twirl you around as he caught up to you.

Your out-of-breath giggles permeated into his ears as his face was tucked in between your neck and shoulder as he slowed down, laughter calming in his own chest.

“Caught you,” he whispered through his own breathlessness. “Happy now?”

You turned in his grasp, squeezing at his shoulders both to show affection and seemingly to steady yourself as your chest still heaved; Remus held you tighter to help you in the latter endeavour. “Shook off Sirius for a bit, so yeah, I am. As should you be.”

He dropped his head laughing at that, glancing behind him through his hair to see Sirius bent over, hands on his knees as James had already caught up to him and was patting his back in sympathy. Any other time of the month, Remus would likely have been right there with him, but this was a good week and you always seemed to be able to find some semblance of energy within him, even if he thought he had none.

“I take back my calling you minx, then.” He looked at you with a smile. “That was strategic.”

“Are you saying minxes can’t be strategic, Loopy?” You raised your eyebrows at him teasingly, pulling slightly out of his grasp to breathe better.

“I’m saying– don’t call me Loopy.”

Your smile became almost taunting at that, and Remus knew his comment likely only worsened the likelihood of you using that nickname now. “I just remembered how I used to call you that the other day actually,” you mused, putting on an innocent smile. “I don’t remember why I stopped, I just forgot about it. I think it might be time for a renaissance.”

“I think I’m too out of breath for you to say things like that. I can’t chase you any further, but that deserves to be chased.”

You shoved lightly at his shoulder at that. “You’re getting too old, you’re no fun.”

“I’m super fun. Textbook definition,” Remus harrumphed, gleaning when you rolled your eyes through a burst of laughter.

“No one who references textbook definitions is fun, Moons!” James called from where the group was catching up to you two, finally within earshot.

Sirius was practically draped across James’ shoulder, breath still coming heavy. He pointed yet another accusatory finger, this time at you. “You’ll be the death of me, dollface. Merlin’s tits.”

“Don’t blame me for your own inadequacy, gorgeous,” you quipped back. It made Remus rather proud, especially when Sirius groaned dramatically in response.

“Time to get some beauty sleep then, yeah?” James coaxed, giving Sirius’ cheek a peck as he continued effortlessly dragging him in through the entrance of the castle.

Lily hummed in agreement, poking one of her boyfriends in the side. “Yeah, Sirius seems to need it.”

“You think I’m so sexy, Red, don’t lie to yourself,” Sirius mumbled, petulantly remaining worn out over James’ shoulders.

Remus smiled at his friends, hand reaching out behind him blindly, knowing you’d find it. Surely enough, your fingers intertwined with his own and gave him a little tug to hasten his gait down the hallways.

Moving up the staircases with surprisingly little trouble, the group finally found themselves outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, ready to split up with you and Pandora heading to Ravenclaw and the rest clambering inside.

You made your goodbyes, quick hugs and kisses on cheeks with Lily and James and a kiss to the hand from Sirius who had decided to lay down dramatically on the floor. When you turned to Remus at last, just a tad bit away from the others, he enveloped you in a warm hug, breathing you in as he settled his chin on your shoulder.

“Let me walk you?” he asked, already knowing you would say no.

“Nice try Loopy, but I’d rather you go inside to the warmth and head to bed,” you murmured into his neck. “Thank you, though.”

You always said no. He always asked, anyway. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly protective or otherwise missed you too much, he’d go with you anyway. Today he decided to respect your wishes.

“Tell me again why you had to be an independent person and get sorted into your own house?” he grumbled against you, smiling when he felt your chest rumbling beneath him. That same smile softened when your grip on him grew just the slightest bit tighter.

“Something tells me you’ll survive.”

He tightened his hold on you in turn, one arm around your waist and the other stabilising your neck, before he spun your body around twice, twirling along the hallway. He relished in the laughter that escaped you and ensured to stamp a proper kiss to your hair before he released you back down to the floor.

“Sleep well, dove.”

“Goodnight, cariad,” you said through a soft smile, giving him and the others a small wave before turning around to where Pandora was waiting, grabbing her hand as you two all but skipped down the hallway together.

With his eyes still glued on your disappearing form, Remus nearly yelped as James’ hands came up to settle roughly on his shoulders – albeit somewhat careful of his joints – steering him through the now-opened portrait, who was rambling on with complaints about students taking up the space in front of her for too long.

“Funny that,” James started.

Remus gave him a puzzled look. “What, Prongs?”

“Just that you danced with one Ravenclaw at the Three Broomsticks for two minutes and gained the colour and conversational skills of a tomato; but when you twirl and kiss this Ravenclaw, all you’re left with is that goofy grin of yours.” James’ comment seemed off-handed, said over his shoulder as they walked through the empty common room.

“First of all, it’s Y/N we’re talking about and not some Ravenclaw,” he started, confusion laced in his voice. In the meantime, James and Sirius kissed Lily goodbye, the latter giving her bum a light tap as she moved up the stairs to the girls’ dorms. “Secondly, it’s Y/N. She’s my best friend, and one of yours, mind you. What’s there to go all tomato for?”

“Some would argue, there is never any reason to go all tomato,” Sirius taunted, ducking the smack Remus aimed towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” James laughed, literally waving it off. “Just pointing out the parallel. Ironic, innit?”

“Don’t see why it would be,” Remus grumbled petulantly in return. Sirius reached up to ruffle his hair somewhat roughly before entering their dorm, where Peter was already waiting for them, tucked into bed.

“What’re we laughing about tonight, fellas?” he questioned without looking up from the magazine he was reading through. Remus was fairly certain he had seen Mary reading through that very same magazine last week.

“Oh just at Remus’ peculiarities with birds.” Sirius felt emboldened with his comment from where he was crouched behind his bed – ample distance to protect him from Remus, he surely gathered.

“So, nothing new? Nice.” Peter returned his attention to the magazine it never really left.

“Yeah, don’t worry Pete – your friends are just as big arseholes as on any other day.” Remus bent down to pat the boy on the shoulder before moving over to his own bed, between Peter and Sirius’.

“Hey, I don’t mean to be an arsehole,” James complained with almost a full pout across his lips within a second of Remus’ comment. “We’re just having a bit of fun psychoanalysing you, s’all.”

“Which, of course, is a generally accepted polite thing to do.” Remus nodded as if he was gravely understanding, only flipping James off when the other boy didn’t catch his sarcasm.

“No, Remmy, what would be rude is to point out how you are desperately–” Sirius began with taunting mirth plastered all over his face, but he was cut off as James all but jumped on him to cover his mouth.

The black haired boy looked up at his boyfriend first with some offence and then a look Remus didn’t want to witness.

“How about we leave poor Moony alone for the night, huh baby?” James questioned, moving his hand away from Sirius’ mouth as the other boy nodded almost dumbly, still staring up at him.

“Who’s turning red now?” Remus whispered to himself as he looked through his trunk for his pyjamas. He barely had the reflexes to catch the pillow Sirius hurled at him, tossing it back with a loud laugh that was quickly reciprocated by his best mates.

As if a miracle had been awarded them by some forgiving gods, the boys’ dorm room quieted down fairly quickly after that. Sirius and James settled in Sirius’ bed for the night, barely fitting themselves onto the mattress that was almost too small for one boy, let alone two. Once in each other’s arms, however, it was an easy thing to drift off. Peter was asleep before the other three had even brushed their teeth.

Remus was the only one tossing. Not unusual, but he couldn’t really understand why that was tonight.

His sleep cycle often closely followed the moon’s, and he was almost two weeks away from the full moon, a perfectly decent time for falling and staying asleep. Tonight, though, his body was once more fighting him. He kept replaying the night, the conversations, the interactions, trying to pin his unrest on something. He supposed that dance with Vance had been unexpected and the adrenaline spike of all the attention following it might still linger and make sleep evade him.

Despite what his dismay for public romantic displays might indicate, Remus was no prude. As a matter of fact, just as Sirius had before he was locked down, Remus was no stranger to making his rounds at the occasional common room party. Rarer was it that he shagged anyone back home, as he spent most of his time with you, but it had happened here and there too. Vance and him had even spent a night together once at a quidditch afterparty, but he had no significant interest in her apart from a mutually understood night of fun. He never really did, even when his partners were great in all capacities. It just didn’t seem that romance was an object for Remus – and good riddance, if the struggles of dealing with it so far was any sign.

Perhaps that was it then, dancing with Vance had rehashed something for him. Though the idea didn’t settle well in his bones, Remus also knew that he would never settle if he didn’t give his mind an excuse for his sudden restlessness.

After checking the time with a hefty sigh, he decided to throw in the towel and took a small sip of a sleeping draught potion he had at the ready in his bedside table at all times. If sleep would not come to him, he would hunt it down damn it. His friends’ playful mockery and a dance he didn’t even want to partake in would not cause him any more torment.

As Remus slipped into the land of dreams, he may come to regret that sentiment, if but a bit.

There are warm bodies pressed uncomfortably close to him – the warmest of which has her arms around his neck, one hand scraping through his hair. It should feel good, Remus enjoys when his hair is played with, but this feels sharp enough to draw blood. Emmeline’s laugh is all he can make out over the chatter and stomping around him, but it feels wrong, scratchy like a record player. Her fingers on him are cold, unlike anything else in the room.

It is spinning. The room, that is. Remus is unfocused, as if he had been shooting vodka and not butterbeer earlier. He can’t quite make out any of his friends, or anyone really, Emmeline’s features bleeding out into the background.

For some reason his heart is pounding the way it does before his transformation. Everything feels painfully wrong and he is aware of every inch of his body where Emmeline is touching him.

She is still laughing and Remus is sure it would make his ears bleed, which only confuses him further because Emmeline is truly a nice girl. Just not one he wants to feel flush against himself at the moment.

He reaches a hand up to touch his ear – realising only now that his arms are hanging limply by his sides, the only static thing in the otherwise spinning room – and when he retracts his hand to look at it, his fingers are coated with blood.

His breathing grows ragged as he feels the blood running down the side of his neck. He has half a mind to tell Emmeline, to shout for help. He doesn’t. Nothing comes out when he tries to open his mouth, all control of his body ripped from his grasp.

With no warning he realises the wetness on his neck is not blood, but someone’s open mouth smearing kisses down it with reckless abandon. His stomach ties in knots and he wants to push Emmeline off of him, still to no avail.

Her grip on him tightens painfully, and Remus swears he feels a bone break. He would know.

The flurry behind her has just become a swirl of colours and sounds to him and Remus feels himself drowning in a moment he desperately wants away from. He shuts his eyes hard, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

He feels a warmth in his chest, starkly different from the heat around him, that slowly, like thawing ice, begins to spread throughout him. He hums the melody you sang to him during his first ever panic attack, the sweet one that always lulls him to sleep, and the warmth spreads faster.

With his eyes still screwed shut, Remus begins to regain the feeling in his legs first, noticing them swaying back and forth to some calmer, unknown rhythm.

The feeling in his hand returns too, and it’s clasped around someone else's. Theirs is also warm, light and fits much better in his, though he’s not quite sure what he’s comparing it to.

The front of his body is warmer than the back as he’s pressed up against someone, swaying with them in a slow dance that would never have worked in the middle of Three Broomsticks. It flows with his soul.

At last, Remus can hear again, as if coming up from water. He hears that it was not him humming, but rather a soft figure tucked under his chin, humming the vibrations of the melody against the side of his neck.

When he tightens his arms instinctively, he does not need to open his eyes to know it is you.

He does anyway, looking down at you, standing in his arms, swaying together in an empty Gryffindor common room. There is a lazy smile on your lips as you look up at him, cheek against his chest, eyes twinkling like the starlight.

Remus feels right. Remus feels good. His thoughts are honey, sweet but slow, coating over any coherent reactions he might have to standing here with you like this. He escaped and he is with you and all is right once more.

Have you danced like this before? Did it feel like this then?

You seem unpuzzled, relaxed. The warmth settles in Remus for good.

“Hey handsome,” you whispered, as if you were sharing a secret with him before angling your face more up towards his.

Remus is not in charge of his body when his neck dips down and lets his lips meet yours halfway, casual and expectantly, a habit as much as a wish. You taste like yourself. You smell like yourself. Remus is surrounded by you, cornered by your smile against his lips.

You pull back all too quickly, furrowing your brows at him. Dream-Remus has no hesitation of removing the hand from around your back to thumb at the furrow, brushing away any negative thoughts from you. He kisses the spot between your eyebrows.

Everything is right.

When his eyes meet yours again, the concerned look in them has not changed. You reach a tentative hand up to his cheek, thumb swiping over his cheekbone as you hold him with what he irrevocably knows to be love.

“It’s time to wake up, cariad,” you said with a small sad smile.

The last thing Remus remembers is the feeling of the floor disappearing beneath him.

Remus sat up with a gasp, and for a rare moment in time he was speechless.

He was not a stranger to invasive, questionable or downright spiritual dreams, a side effect of both his connection with the moon and the tons of potions he has taken over the years. Usually, he is present in his dreams and acts as his own little commentator during and after them, narrating what happens and what he thinks of it.

It was not uncommon for him to think “I think I will remember this one” as the final thought in a dream. Or when he wakes up in tears, his first thought was often “that was a bit dramatic of you, calm down”.

Now, he had nothing. Now, he was speechless.

Worse yet, usually when he wakes up with a jolt, it is in the middle of the night – but now, as his senses began to trickle back in, he could hear the commotion around him that only could mean the boys are at various stages in the process of getting ready.

Remus Lupin had just had a life-altering, earth-shattering dream, and James Fleamont Potter was repeatedly knocking his knee into his nightstand as he jumped around while tying his shoes on, instead of sitting down to do it like a normal person would.

He thought James was saying something, and maybe even to Remus specifically, but he could still hear the blood rushing through his head. Beneath that again, he could hear your humming.

With a groan, Remus let himself topple over from his sitting position to land face-first into his duvet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck?

“Oi!” Remus finally heard, as what felt like a rolled up pair of socks hit his head. “What in Godrick’s name has gotten into you, mate? You good?” It was Sirius voice calling, seemingly from across the room.

Remus just groaned in reply. His eyes were wide open as he stared directly into his sheets, feeling both freezing cold and like his brain was slowed by a fever.

“You okay, Moons?” Peter’s voice came gentler from beside him. Remus thought his hand might be hovering near him, as if he was considering consolingly patting him but was unsure if he should.

Another groan.

“Okay, what about this: groan once if this is Moony mooning over something and twice if you’re in actual crisis,” James suggested, not unkindly.

A singular groan, though it sure did feel like two.

“Groan once if you’re a prick and twice if you’re insufferable,” Sirius felt the need to comment.

Instead of making any further sounds, Remus wrangled his arm from beneath the blanket to show Sirius how he felt about him in the moment with a gesture.

“Fantastic!” James exclaimed. “You have class in 35 minutes, Moons, and breakfast now, so best get a move on.” Remus heard the telltale sound of James leaving – as in, James’ heavy footsteps moving across the floor and Sirius scrambling like a dog to follow after him. At the complete lack of sounds in the rooms after that, he assumed Peter moused after them as well.

At last Remus sat up with a sigh and stared emptily in front of him, mind moving too fast for him to catch a thought but too slow for him to properly process anything.

What does this mean?

Except Remus could no longer deny that he knew what it meant. That the instant your humming caressed his ears, he knew what it meant. That his subconsciousness wanted to replace a girl who saw him as a romantic prospect in a place Remus felt queasy in with you in a place he considered home. That is no coincidence.

And that when you kissed him–

Except you did not kiss him. Remus shook his head at that, as if the thoughts could just tumble out of his ears. You did not kiss him and he did not kiss you. Because this was a dream, it was not real and Remus must just be really, really unwell.

He felt unwell, but not in the way he was trying to convince himself.

Taking one deep breath, Remus looked to the awning of their little dormitory and shot out a silent prayer for any higher power to listen.

Put me back together, I cannot fall apart like this.

Bury this back down deep, I cannot feel like this.

It was going to be a long day.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

By the time Remus had made it to the entryway to the Great Hall, feeling frazzled and less put together than he had an excuse to, he saw his group of friends making their way out.

“Rem!” It was you who caught sight of him first, and immediately beelined towards him, the others following closely behind, wearing varying degrees of concern and confusion as they looked him up and down.

Your face was by far the most concerned, as you immediately brought your left hand up to cup his cheek. “Are you alright, cariad?”

For the first time in your almost two decades of friendship, Remus was painfully aware of your physical proximity.

He always knew, of course, but it never really registered with him – it was completely natural. Right now, nothing about him felt natural. You stood flush with him and he felt you against him like a fire, skin singeing beneath his clothes. Your eyes seemed so big looking into his that he could get lost in them, his only internal monologue being a dreamy sigh and a long string of curse words at the absolute madhouse chaos that his mind was becoming. As he looked at you, it was like he could see his version of you from his dream as well, how you looked at him with so much love and admiration, how your lips inched closer to his.

“Mate?” Remus realised then, that he had been staring at you for far too long, not answering your question, to the point where James had to try to catch his attention.

“I– uh,” Remus sputtered, eyes flickering wildly all over your face, panic rising in his chest as he realised he could not think clearly with you so close.

He took a step back without thinking, just barely out of your grasp but still close, and shook his head. “Sorry, yeah, no, yes, I just feel a bit… off today.”

The furrow between your brows deepend, and once more his mind flashed back to his dream. His hand twitched. It seemed like you weren’t even aware of it when you took a step closer, to be back by his side, reaching your wrist up to place it on his forehead to feel his temperature. “You’re feeling poorly?” you whispered so quietly and so lovingly Remus thought he might faint.

Was it always like this? It was always like this. Why was he freaking out about it then? He was freaking out. What the fuck was wrong with him?

With horror, Remus realised that a slight blush was creeping up his neck, and he fought hell to keep it down as he cleared his throat. “Just a little, uh, dove, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Do you want to go lay down?” You began what he knew would be a string of suggestions for things to do to make him feel better, and he could not stand watching you be so concerned when he was lying to you.

Almost like a flinch, he pulled back out of your arms – properly this time, taking several strides backwards away from the group. It barely registered with him that James and Sirius were looking at him with some confused amusement while Lily looked sympathetic.

“I, erm, will be fine, yeah? Nothing to worry about.” Without properly looking, he reached an arm out to grab Peter by the shoulder and all but manhandled him to his side. “Peter and I have Herbology now, but uh, I’ll catch you later?”

Remus hated how everything he said sounded like a question, like he was running a lie by you for you to confirm if it was believable. Remus hated that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face for more than a few seconds and most of all he hated that he was spiraling under the weight of your gaze in turn. A horrible combination.

“Take care, Rem,” you whispered as he all but ran away from you, hauling Peter along.

You stood looking after him for a moment, only turning your head when you felt Lily’s reassuring hand on your shoulder to find a small smile on her face.

“What in the buggering hell was that?” Sirius questioned, looking mostly at you for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you said, honestly. Had you known, you might still not have told him, though, if you thought Remus wouldn’t want you to. “I usually always know about his moods before they come, but this has me stumped,” you murmured, mostly to yourself.

“He woke up weirdly,” James mused, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I guess we’ll just see where the day goes, yeah?”

The four of you nodded at each other, but you still gnawed on your lip in concern, glancing over your shoulder to where he disappeared.

Whatever it was, you hoped he would come talk with you about it when he was ready.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus only had one hour to compose himself during Herbology before he had Charms with you. Sharing most of his classes with you was something he had always considered a blessing, and while that sentiment would likely never fade, it was also causing him some distress as he almost toppled the work desk with his jittering.

Peter didn’t question him, but Remus’ obvious nerves were apparently contagious for the anxious boy who jittered right along with him, casting him the occasional glance.

Letting his elbows fall heavily on the desk, Remus put his head in his hands and ignored the instructions Professor Sprout was walking them through – he would let Peter pick up the slack for once and then subsequently accept the lower marks. Right now, Remus had to think and get his shit together.

He breathed his way through some panic exercises and pictured you in his mind. It almost brought a smile to his lips in an instant and for the first time, he let the realisation of how irrevocably wrecked for you he was.

Has it always been like this? Why have I never put this into words before? How can I revert back?

In that moment, Remus decided two things. Firstly, there was no possibility of you returning his feelings nor would he ever expect you to. It was true that you accepted and loved him in a way he never could quite believe himself deserving of, but that in itself is testament that it couldn’t be any more. What you gave him was already too much, it would be unthinkable for you to harbour even deeper feelings for him.

Second, and most importantly, he could not lose you. Remus has made many mistakes in his time, but he could not live with himself if he lost you. It would be too much. Because regardless of the fact that he now knew he was– that he now knew what he knew, the friendship between you was the most important thing. It was Remus and Y/N, right?

He could not be weird and sputtering, he could not make you uncomfortable. Meaning, he could not withdraw from you despite his instinct to run and hide. Shame burned within him at the thought that even if he could withdraw he didn’t know if he could fight his want not to. You were muscle memory.

Remus opened his eyes and slowly dragged his palms down his face in resolution. He would have to act as if nothing was wrong, and he would have to lie through his bloody teeth to explain away whatever bodily reactions he has.

If he starts stammering, he will have to shut up and lie that he is tired. If he becomes an embarrassing shade of auburn, he will have to cough and lie that he might be coming down with a fever. If he shakes, it is because of lack of sleep. If he, Merlin forbids, cries, he will have to claim he must be coming down with some odd moonsickness. You will surely follow him to Madam Pomfrey and maybe it will be easier when you’re alone.

Or maybe it will be worse.

No matter which it was, Remus would have to soldier it, for your sake. You did not deserve his imposing infatuation, but you also did not deserve to lose what you thought to be a loyal friend.

When him and Peter packed up the barely-used desk and mumbled a goodbye to a disapproving Sprout in the door, Remus made it his mission to focus on his breathing again as he almost ran down the hallways to where your friend group always met up outside the Charms classroom.

Be normal, be normal, be normal.

Your eyes found him the second he rounded the final corner, almost as if you had been watching it, waiting for him. A beautiful smile lit up on your face as soon as you saw him, albeit a bit dampened by the worry in your eyes – he simultaneously wanted desperately to soothe you while also berating himself for it being there. His fault.

“Hey dovey.” He forced his words to be casual, his smile to be measured as he strode up beside you.

This is where he is supposed to drag you into a sideways hug, squeezing your hips while dropping a kiss on the top of your head, causing Sirius to make some quip about “you were literally just gone an hour. He stood beside you perhaps a beat too long before he began to do so with shaking hands, and he felt your burning look as you studied him. Remus made it all the way up to where he would kiss your head before he chickened out due to the tornado screaming in his stomach.

“Hi, Rem,” you all but whispered, your words just for him. You opened your mouth to say more, but he was afraid of what it would be.

“Waited long?” he asked to distract you from it.

“Nah,” you said and leaned further into his side. “But I’m glad you’re here now. How’re you feeling?”

At that, he saw Peter, Sirius, James and Lily – who had been stuck in their own little world – look up and try to hear what he has to say. Remus crumbled under their watchful gazes, knowing they knew him well enough to pick apart his every little reaction. He cleared his throat.

“I don’t really know,” he settled for. “My head’s murky, didn’t sleep well.”

You made a soft cooing sound and started rubbing circles on the side of his hip from where your arms were circled around him. It knocked a wave of dizziness into him that made him want to take a step back to lean against the cold stone wall behind you. In replacement he settled for holding onto you tighter; it only made it worse.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go lay down? Merlin knows we won’t be missing out on anything with the way Flitwick rambles away any sense he might have.”

This is where Remus would laugh heartily at your obvious disdain for the professor that he never truly understood. Instead, his mind zeroed in on one word you said.

We. We, we, we, we.

Circe’s tits, did he want to take you up on that.

He swallowed, acutely aware that you must have heard the sound when stood so close to him, though you didn’t give away any reaction. To buy himself a moment to collect his thoughts, Remus finally dared tilt his chin downwards to kiss the top of your head. It might have been too slow, too tentative, but his heart was beating so fast the rest of his body felt too slowed down in comparison. He hoped you thought the kiss was a thank you for caring and not the nervous stall it was. He hoped he wouldn’t be eternally damned for breathing in the scent of you.

“I’m quite alright, dove,” he murmured instead, furiously avoiding the surely questioning gazes of his other friends. “Thank you, though.”

You grumbled some but didn’t push him on it. He silently thanked you for that, too.

His throat was too parched to partake in the silent banter amongst his friends as you walked into Charms, too focused on where your bodies brushed as you walked, too deafened by the sound of your laughter.

You sat down in your regular spots, you and Remus side by side in the front, with Sirius and James behind you and Lily and Mary to your right. This was normal, this was alright. Flitwick droned on about the theoretics and debates around the charms you learned last lesson, it went in one ear and out the other.

Absentmindedly, you had grabbed Remus’ hand lightly between yours and were tracing soothing circles along his wrist and palm. You meant so well, and this would have cured likely any other ailment Remus struggled with, but right now there were fireworks going off in his head.

Taking advantage of the notice Dumbledore had given all of his professors to not call Remus out on sleeping in class, he folded his arms and laid his head down on them, carefully not to take his hand away from you. If he could shield his face, he could probably talk himself down before class ended.

In the solitude of his arms, he could picture it was just the two of you, sitting in the treehouse you built between your houses as children. If he focused enough, he could smell the apples that grew around him and feel the rough wood beneath his stomach. There, your hand would still be in his, maybe even your cheek on his chest, and it would be alright. It would all be alright because it was just you, and Remus could play dumb and he would never have to realise his feelings and fuck himself over.

It almost worked. Until he was interrupted.

“Psst! L/N?” The whisper was laced with a laughter Remus knew too well and did not care for.

You clearly ignored it – Remus could practically see the eye roll you surely threw his way – but that wasn’t enough to stop his theatrics.

“L/N!” Barty called once more from a couple seats behind you to your right, voice threatening to alert Flitwick to your inattention. “What’s wrong with your dog?”

“What?” you whispered back in equal parts confusion and irritation.

“Your puppy, Lupin,” Barty said, as if it was obvious. Unfortunately, Remus could picture his eye roll too, though his stomach was turning for a wholly different reason. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Remus is quite alright, Junior,” you hissed back, hand tightening on Remus’ at the same time as he loosened it. “And don’t call him a dog.”

Remus slowly lifted his head from his arms and took back his hands to wipe harshly at his face, still not looking towards Junior who barked a low laugh.

“Follows you around like one. Wouldn’t surprise me if you had some invisible leash going on–” Barty quipped, cutting himself off before you could respond and turning to Evan Rosier sitting beside him. “Oooooh, an invisible leash is a marvellous idea, Rosie.”

It was clear you had lost his attention, but Remus’ face still burned painfully as he shifted in his seat. With a harrumphing sound, you turned to look at him. He didn’t meet your eye, couldn’t.

“Ignore him.” Remus always marvelled at how you manage to convey your frustration and care at the same time.

He just hummed in the affirmative, still wiping a bit harshly at his face. If he treated it harshly enough, could he blame his violent flush on it?

“Cariad,” you mumbled, gently taking his hands away from his face, clearly spotting his efforts.

He saw your furrowed eyebrows looking at him, and that was the end of what he could take for the lesson. As you opened your mouth, surely to inquire about how he is, like the beautifully kind person he knows you to be, he pushed his chair backwards.

“I think I should probably listen to you and go lay down, dove,” he murmured, avoiding your gaze. Before you could shoot in and say you would come with him, he continued. “Can you please take notes for me in Transfiguration after this?”

An indirect rejection, a plea for isolation. He didn’t look at your face as he gathered his things, waiting for you to respond instead.

“Sure, if that’s what you want,” you said carefully.

What I want is you.

“Yes, please.” Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and pressed a parting goodbye kiss to your cheek, tradition. “Thank you, love.”

Then he was sneaking his way out around the desks, barely catching a murmured voice he knew to be Sirius’, likely leaning forward to ask you about him. His lips singed.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus hid away in his room for two hours, actually being truthful and trying to get a nap in. The dorm room felt serendipitous, being swept up in rare silence and a grace of darkness as he trickled in and out of consciousness. If he dreamed more of you, he would not admit it.

Any semblance of reprieve he might have chased down was ripped away from him by the creaking of the door and the wall of sound that followed his three favourite boys who always got on his last three nerves.

“Oi, Moons!” Sirius exclaimed, far too cheerily. “You know the rules!”

Remus propped his head up on his elbow from where he was sprawled on his stomach, looking blearily at the three figures as they situated themselves within the dorm. “The rule to not wake a sleeping sod? Yes, I’m the only one who knows that rule it seems.”

Sirius took off his sweater as he discarded his uniform and used it to swat at Remus. “Nope! No wallowing on your own. Sharing is caring.”

“‘M not wallowing,” Remus grumbled as he let his head fall back into his pillow.

Letting his guard down was undoubtedly a mistake because the second Sirius was out of sight, he had the audacity to jump into Remus’ bed, nearly flinging him off from the impact. Both Sirius and James were laughing boisterously as Sirius collapsed on top of Remus and ruffled his hair when he tried to shove him off. “Not anymore, no, we won’t let you.”

Remus hated that he loved them.

“Precisely,” James added as he pointed at Remus from where he was changing into his non-uniform clothes as well. “So either speak your mind or perk up, buttercup.”

Remus groaned but let Sirius drag him up into a sitting position. “Can a poor lycanthrope not have one off day without you lot getting your knickers in a twist?” Despite his best efforts, there was no ire in his voice.

“Nope!” James said, popping the p. “Not on our watch.”

“Life is simply miserable without our Moony,” Sirius said, clutching his chest as if he was ailing. “And do you have any idea how weird it is to see your sweetheart without you by her side? It’s like watching a cut up picture.”

All humour that had been creeping into Remus’ expression was washed away in and instant as he swallowed harshly, suddenly averting his gaze from Sirius. Instead, James caught it, who looked at him with big eyes behind his glasses, cocking his head to the side. He looked far too much like the stag he is, before his mouth opened in a small gasp. “Oh,” he whispered softly.

Remus’ heart was beating painfully hard at the look of realisation that crossed his face, turning back to Sirius who had a similar knowing, almost pitying look in his eyes. No, no, no, no.

“I’ll be fine, you, erm, won’t have to live without me much longer,” Remus tried to volley back, just a few seconds too late, tongue feeling heavy at being found out.

If his best mates could see through him that quickly, then you probably already had. He had half a mind to take you up to the Astronomy Tower like old times, so he could apologise and then jump off as an act of redemption.

Sirius gave his shoulder a rough squeeze, shaking him a little as if he knew what was going through his mind. “Fantastic. Then you’ll join us for our free periods, yeah? And the party later tonight?”

Still somewhat sputtering, Remus’ eyes widened to an extent he was sure was comedic. “The pa– the party?”

James smiled at him. “Yeah, Moons. Gryffindor half-term party? That we have talked about all week?”

“Merlin, maybe Pomfrey needs to go easy on the potions she gives you,” Sirius teased, getting up to finish changing.

“Or she could give me more,” Remus whispered hopefully, earning him a round of chuckles.

“You’ll be fine, Rem,” James said, with an undertone Remus did not care for. “If you’re still feeling… off throughout the day and night, you can always snuggle up with a book and ignore us hooligans.” Then, almost as if he was testing the waters. “I’m sure Y/N would love to join you.”

Remus didn’t deign any of that with a response, but he suddenly thought he should get out of his bed so his face didn’t seem so red in contrast with the white sheets.

“I have some essays to knock out, so yeah, I’ll join you to study,” Remus relented. He opened his own trunk to get changed, but decided to half-ass it and just take off his tie and replace his uniform wool with one of his own patterned jumpers.

“And for the party later!” Sirius corrected, ensuring Remus didn’t think he could back out.

“Sure, sure.” He ruffled his own hair so it was Remus-messy and not Sirius-messed-up-my-hair-messy. “Let’s just go.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Considering the extent to which he could fuck this up for himself, Remus reckoned he had been doing fairly good keeping his shit together throughout the day.

If he mentally cursed more than normal, contemplated the murder of each one of his friends including himself and generally couldn’t breathe, well, that was merely part of it.

The whole lot had shacked up in the library for the triple free periods you had back to back on Fridays. While you doted concernedly over him for the first thirty minutes, you eased up once you seemed to decide that this wasn’t Remus shoving down some lycanthropy-struggles and avoiding support and help.

As always, the two of you sat in the love seat, your legs sprawled over his lap as you read through your textbooks in the oddest positions. This was usually something he might chide you for – “your neck will hurt if you hang over the edge like that, love” – but today he buried his face into his textbooks with all his might to not seem like he was aware of your body. He was, of course, you burned over his skin and lit up his heart, and Circe’s tits was he the stupidest sod in the whole castle.

Nonetheless, he made it through all three hours, engaging in comforting banter and low laughs with his best mates. When you teamed up with him to mess with Sirius, he at least knew that you weren’t upset with him in any way, even though he was being a lunatic today, even though he most definitely would have deserved it.

What Remus knew would be his breaking point was the Gryffindor party.

It was a laid back event, a party thrown for all of Gryffindor, though it was mostly the upper years who were encouraged to attend. They arranged it halfway through every term to celebrate making it through and engaging with each other. Meaning, most people didn’t get shitfaced but there was some good bubbling energy maintained throughout the whole night.

You and Remus had a tradition for how you dealt with parties – just as you had a tradition for pretty much everything, he had come to notice. Gods, he lov– Stop it.

Neither one of you were necessarily fond of large crowds, but you both were incredibly loyal and fond of your friends and wanted to spend time with them. Thus, you attended the parties, but you always did so together. The more uncomfortable you got, the closer you would get to each other, and if one ever needed a break, they would tap the other three times and they would make up an excuse to usher them out of there.

It had never felt so unnerving to be so known.

Throughout the whole party he had been jittery, head rushing with thoughts. He desperately tried not to take in your outfit and then he desperately tried not to read into it when you seemed disappointed he didn’t compliment you for it like he usually did. Why did he have to be such a sweet best friend normally? Remus can’t keep up with himself.

It did not help him in the slightest that others around the party seemed to focus on your outfit much more openly than he could dare. It made him gravitate even closer to you, tighten his hand on his hip, momentarily rest his chin on the top of your head – and then his actions made him want to kick himself. Possessiveness was the last thing he could be engaging with when he was already betraying you in such a manner.

Leave it to Remus to fuck up something beautiful.

To say you didn’t seem to notice that he was troubled would be taking it too far, but at least you didn’t seem to notice why. You kept him close to your side and would at random points stroke his back soothingly. He wondered if you just thought he was uncomfortable with the party.

You were chatting with Pandora by the drinks table when Barty and Evan strolled up to you both with cheshire cat grins.

“There he is, back on his leash,” Junior said through a menacing laugh, ignoring Evan’s slight elbow to his side. “Feeling better, darling?”

“What brings you to the lions' den, Junior?” Remus asked carefully to divert the topic.

“Well. Y/N’s going so Pandora’s going so Evan’s going, and thus–” he did a small flourishing spin “– I’m going.”

“You’re impossible,” Evan murmured, while Pandora just smiled happily.

“Is he feeling better, then?” Barty asked once more, this time looking at you.

“No, actually,” you said with a small smile Remus knew not to be genuine. “He is absolutely devastated you’re not in the Slytherin common room right now. He had big plans for you there, you know.”

Remus tried to choke down his laugh as Barty looked torn between glee and irritation. Somehow he made both work. “Sorry to soil your plans then, Lupin. Better luck next time.”

Then he stalked off in almost a hurry and Remus couldn’t help but hope he was going to Slytherin to check if you were telling the truth.

He looked down at where you were standing beside him and squeezed your shoulder lightly. “You really are a minx,” he whispered conspiratorially.

That turned out to be his undoing. You turned your head to the side to look up at him with mirth playing around in your enamouring eyes, a soft tilt to the corner of your mouth. And your face was oh so painfully close to his.

Remus became acutely aware that he could easily lean in and catch your smile with his. That the air he was breathing had been close to you in some of the only ways he had not yet. That he must look like your boyfriend when you’re standing essentially pressed up against each other like this.

That he most certainly has been looking at your lips for far too long.

When he flicks his gaze back up, he sees a slight furrow between your brows again as you seem to take in his reaction, and suddenly he goes from having butterflies in his stomach to needing to throw them all up. He took a sudden staggering step backwards, almost crashing into James who was engaging in some animated discussion with Marlene.

“I, uh,” Remus said and dear Godrick he was stammering. “I’ll get us some drinks and we can sit down, yeah?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, instead spinning his back to you and hoping you pick up conversation with Pandora again.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t be a bloody arse.

He hoped he had steadied himself enough by the time he plopped down in his favourite grandfather chair near the fire. He placed both of your drinks on the table in front of him, vowing to touch his as minimally as possible to make sure he keeps whatever wits he has left with him.

A dumb smile takes over his face as his breathing quickens when he sees you make your way over to the seating area, after having listened to his desperate silent plea and finished your conversation with Pandora. Pushing his luck, he shoots another silent prayer that it will be smooth sailing from here, which is apparently promptly ignored as you happily sit down in his lap.

Fuck.

This, he reminds himself, is also normal for the two of you. Especially at parties, especially if you have reason to believe he is unsteady in any sense of the word, which he most certainly has given you plenty of reason to believe.

You give him some form of greeting he can’t quite catch and isn’t sure if he reciprocated as you settle down, putting majority of your weight on his right thigh as you lean your body sideways against his. One of your arms snuck around his shoulders, fingers winding up playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, while the other is stabilising yourself on his knee. Majority of your close friends had followed your lead by sitting down in the small gathering, chattering amongst themselves. He was half-aware that you were rambling on about something to him, something he probably really wanted to listen to, but it felt like his head was underwater.

Unsure of what else to do, he lowered his face into your shoulder and took deep breaths there.

You seemed wholly unbothered, fingers continuing in his hair as your soothing voice carried him through what he feared might become a panic attack. He was almost there, when the cocoon you two had in your chair was burst by the presence of your other friends.

“You alright there, Moons? You’re not going to go all vampire on poor Y/N?” Sirius’ tone was lighthearted and teasing, but Remus felt as if he might actually die.

“Oh, he’s quite alright,” you answered for him with a smile before he could embarrass himself, immediately switching over to engage in conversation with the friends sitting closest to you. Your hand on his knee squeezed reassuringly.

Fuck, how could he not love you?

He loved you.

Remus almost had to fight crying as he hid in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by his own emotions and the surely watchful gazes of those around him – the latter of which was why he couldn’t.

With a deep breath he let his desire win for just one second and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before emerging from his hiding place. He shifted you carefully to be more comfortable, so that your back was against him and he could rest his head on the shoulder he just kissed.

He did fairly good, partaking in conversation, engaging with the others, albeit more quietly and less than usual. He laughed and he smiled and you were so soft against him, as if you had melted. Remus was in heaven while being tortured.

Marlene wolf whistled quietly from where she was sat on the floor, eyeing Remus with mirth. Though he still did not know why, he was already turning red, the tips of his ears burning.

“Hi, Remmy.” He heard the soft voice say beside him and he turned his head to see Emmeline giving him a somewhat sly smile. “The dance floor’s picking up. Want to go for another round?”

Remus’ stomach churned. Emmeline was such a sweet girl and he never could say no to her, the only thing that felt worse than the embarrassment from his friends’ teasing was the thought of embarrassing her – though Remus was sure even thinking like that made him into an even bigger arse.

Sirius and James had told him multiple times that he could say no. As had you, reminding him how important it was to have boundaries, even while you were sitting practically on top of him at the time. He just could never bring himself to.

Yet his mouth seemed to move on its own accord before he could think, arms tightening around you. “No, not tonight Emmeline, sorry. Knock yourself out, though.” He tried to give her a warm smile, but his movements seemed to be outside of his control at the moment, breath sucked from his lungs.

He realised with a sting that he should have given her more credit all along when she beams back at him. “No worries, enjoy your night!” she cheered before twirling towards the dance floor herself.

Remus let out a shaky breath and turned to his friends who were almost staring him down. James’ mouth was even open in shock, which he thought was a bit dramatic.

“Hold on, what just happened?” Sirius guffawed. “Has our little Moony learned to say no?”

Remus flushed even further. “Shut up, Pads.”

“Don’t think I will,” his mate replied with a wolfish grin turning to look to the others for support. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“What’s inspired this change in you?” Mary asked thoughtfully, propping her head into her hands as if she was settling in for a lengthy response.

All eyes were back on Remus and he felt like the mask he had been clinging to all day was crumbling. The nerves that shot through him like lightning now was not his usual humiliation from being in a charged spotlight – no, this was fear. Genuine fear that if he didn’t get his head screwed back on within two seconds, he might say something too revealing, or his face would do it without him having to open his mouth. That his fiery ears would somehow spell out I am in love with my very best friend and I realised it too late and am making it everybody else’s problem. He had no idea what to do.

In his time of despair, with Mary’s big eyes staring up at him, Marlene and Lily already snickering between them and Sirius raising an expecting brow, his instincts knew of only one way out.

His finger on your hip lifted. Tap, tap, tap.

Almost as if a switch had gone off, you made a soft gasp and turned to look at him in his lap. “Gods, Rem, speaking of Emmeline, I totally forgot our gift for Sirius in my dorm room in Ravenclaw!” you exclaimed, putting your all into the act. Your excuse seemed to be a good one as Sirius’ head immediately picked up, not unlike that of a dog’s if you said the word ‘treat’ around them. “We have to go get it before the party’s over.”

You elegantly hopped up and out of his lap, dragging him behind him with a grip on his elbow. Remus stumbled and scrambled behind you, tossing a sorry don’t know what that’s about look to the others over his shoulder. He barely caught sight of what he could only classify as a knowing exchange of smiles between James and Lily.

Before he could truly process your rescue mission, he was standing outside in the cool hallway breathing heavily, portrait closed behind him.

Before him, you stood with your hands on your hips, scanning his face thoroughly, making him almost cower beneath your gaze. You seemed to make up your mind about something as you took his hand once more and walked with him down the hall in silence, rounding the corners until you reached one of the deep windowsills, the kind the two of you would always sit in and read.

You jumped to lift yourself into it and once you were sat with one hand on each side of your body, you levelled him with a look.

“Okay, spill,” you said, directly but not unkindly. “What is going on with you?”

Remus did not think this through. He needed help and so he called upon you for it like he always does, not thinking to consider that that might very well make this worse for him.

“It’s…” he began, picking at straws in his mind for an excuse. “It’s nothing, dove. Really.”

“When’s my birthday?” you asked then, to his surprise. He furrowed his brows at you and told you the date. You smiled a bit smugly. “Exactly. So you know I wasn’t born yesterday.”

He genuinely laughed at that, even if it was at his expense. He let his body do as it wished and took a small step closer to you. Not enough for your bodies to touch, but enough to feel like he was in your space. Safe, even in his panic.

“Remus,” you said softly, painfully gently. You rarely used his first name, and now when you did, it was laced with an undertone he couldn’t stomach. It was beginning to sound a bit like hurt. “What is going on with you? Why… why are you acting this way towards me?”

Because you are the one thing I have never had to question and now I’m questioning everything. Because I’m a bloody prick who has one dream and ruins his life over it. Because my mind is running a mile a minute and your lips feel like magnets and I swear I am losing control in a way I only do during full moons.

“I don’t know what to do,” he ended up whimpering quietly, cowardly.

You looked around the hallway as if the answer would be written on any of the walls and moved your arms slightly to gesture around you. “About what? I can’t help you unless I know what it is, cariad.”

He scrunched his face for a moment, looking away from you. “Can we not do this? It’s nothing you can fix, dove.”

You seemed to grow even more confused at that, almost frustrated. “Why not?” He realised then that the two of you had always helped each other through everything. Being locked out must hurt. He wanted to kick himself, but he didn't know what else to do. “What’s wrong, Remus, please I just–”

Remus is besieged by the power of someone much more reckless, driven by desire to alleviate you of your confusion and him of his pain.

He cut you off with a kiss.

He took a large stride forward to slot himself in between your thighs, eliminating the space between you within a second, bringing both hands up to cup the sides of your face and bring it towards him. His eyes were shut tightly, furrow in his brows as his lips all but smashed against yours in a kiss that felt sacrificially sacred. Your lips are just as soft as in his dream, as is the small gasp that escapes you as you tense in his grasp.

Remus has never felt better and he has never felt worse.

The kiss lasts for about 10 seconds before he pulls away in even more of a flurry. His hands lost their grip on you first, hovering over your cheeks briefly, as if considering going back in before thinking better of it. He still had you captured in the kiss, hanging on to it for as long as he could deign himself, knowing it was his last opportunity to do so, all the while kicking himself over it.

Backing away, he put double the distance between you. He felt drunk, stumbling slightly as he all but scrambled away, a stinging sensation behind his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I don't know why I did that. I didn’t mean to,” he breathed out, reeling at his own impulsivity. “That,” he said through a shaking voice as he looked anywhere but your face, “is my problem, and Y/N, I am so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

For the shortest second, he lets his eyes flicker quickly over your face before rushing back to stare at a statue on the wall beside you. Your face was blank, eyes wide. Your fingers were barely touching the lips he had just enclosed in his own.

You must be disgusted. You must be horrified. You must feel violated and Remus wanted nothing more than to disappear from the face of the earth and rid you of this undying problem.

He was every bit the beast you had tried to convince him he wasn’t.

“Why…” you began, voice but a whisper, before you trailed off.

Remus had to shut his eyes at that, tilting his head slightly to the side. If he breathed through his nose, he might not cry. He was sitting before the highest court he knew, and you were about to ask him to explain himself.

“Why are you sorry?”

The words floored him a little, enough to make his eyes snap open and land back on your face. You looked deeply concerned, brows tilted upwards as you seemed to take his face in. “Remus,” you whispered now that you finally had his eyes on you. “Why are you sorry?”

He shook his head in confusion, feeling every bit like the boy he was. “I shouldn’t have done that.” It was all he could get out through his hoarse voice. He also had no idea how to answer that question in a satisfactory way.

You took in a short sharp breath and then lowered yourself onto the ground to stand before him. With your hands held out in front of you, almost as if you were ready to lunge out and catch him if he was to run – an idea that was becoming increasingly enticing to him – you took a small step towards him. “Why?” There was a growing spark in your eye, dimmed only by your worried frown.

“Y/N.” He didn’t know what else to say, eyes trained on you.

“Cariad,” you replied in the same tone, and a tear slipped down his left cheek. You took another measured step towards him, enough to reach out for him if you wanted to – but of course, you wouldn’t want to, not anymore. “It’s alright.”

He felt dizzy at the lack of the scolding or disgust he had braced himself for, realising how stupid he was for even fearing that from you. No, you would reject him sweetly and kindly, and his heart would never be mended from it. That felt worse, somehow.

“It’s not,” he whispered. “Please don’t say it is.”

You smiled ruefully and took another small step towards him. He could feel the warmth eminating from you. Tentatively, you reached up a hand to wipe at the tear still sitting on his left cheek. He held his breath and fought the urge to lean into your touch, but when you pressed your palm more firmly against his cheek, he couldn’t anymore. A soft sigh escaped him and he let his eyes fall shut as your touch supported him. “It is, my sweet boy,” you whispered with an urgency that almost convinced him. “Remus, can you answer me honestly?”

His body tensed once more as his eyes fluttered open to find yours, reverent. Most parts of him were still screaming at him to run away, to shut up, to do anything but this. His heart seemed to be in charge for the moment, though, and he nodded slowly. Trusting you with his world even as he felt like a traitor in yours.

“All this, today… has it been because you have realised you’re… in love with me?” You seemed to be piecing it together as you said the words out loud, eyes carefully searching his face for his reaction.

Another tear slipped down his cheek, and you quickly caught it with your other thumb, both hands now cradling his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said once more.

“You’re not allowed to be,” you whispered, giving him a half-smile, almost as if you were indulging him in a secret of yours. “Please answer the question?”

It was now or never. “Yes.”

To his utter surprise and deep-seated confusion, the smile on your face grew genuine, settling into the one he always searched for. He almost opened his mouth to question it before he was cut off.

No words can describe the sensations that bloomed in his chest, the butterflies that flitted in his stomach, when you used your hands on his face as leverage to pull him towards you for another kiss.

You kissed him. You kissed him. You were kissing.

His mind was threatening to take off like a rocket and captiulate, but his hands had never been more steady as they circled around your waist, splaying out over the small of your back as he dragged you closer. You sighed against him, smile still evident over your lips, and Remus dared – like the bastard he was – to mirror it.

You were warm against him, but wholly different than you had been in his dream. This felt distinctly real. And just as right.

When you pulled away, your hands had migrated to the back of his neck and you kept your forehead leaned against his. “Good,” you murmured with your eyes still closed. “Because the feeling is mutual.”

He almost reared his head away from you, but managed to only pull back a few centimetres to stare at you in awe. Remus opened his mouth, but no words came out; he could find none intelligent enough to verbalise how utterly gobsmacked he felt.

You seemed to understand him just as well, going by your breathy laugh. There was still that spark in your eye, now shining brightly in the absence of your worry. Had the worry been for him?

“I know I don’t say this enough, but you really are quite an idiot, aren’t you?” you laughed and he slowly felt his heart start beating again.

“Spent too much time with Sirius and James, clearly,” he muttered, half expecting the joke to land flat and you to remember how disgusting he was. Instead, your laugh intensified and you leaned your body further against his. It emboldened him to ask, “What do you mean the feeling is mutual, dove?”

You let your arms glide further up, crossing behind his neck and over his shoulder, bringing him impossibly closer. “Remus John Lupin,” you whispered sincerely. “I am madly in love with you. Romantically. Genuinely. Any thoughts you have that explain that away are false and you mustn't listen to them. I thought you knew by now that I’m always right.”

Even as the grin involuntarily established itself on his face, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. He looked at your face, truly studied it, and he could feel his mind ever so slowly calm down. “You are.”

“What am I?” You were testing him, and he allowed it wholeheartedly.

“Right,” he confirmed. Albeit a bit more hesitantly, he knew better than not to add, “and… in love with me?”

“Two points to Gryffindor.” You reached up to give his lips a soft peck. It felt so natural, like it was already habit for you. He desperately wanted it to be.

“I’m sorry, I’m still reeling from this, dovey,” he confessed, trying to process everything.

There had never been any judgement to be found in your face. “Which parts are you struggling with the most?”

Your eyes were full of understanding, your face scrunched up in concentration. Remus indulged himself in an old habit by reaching up with one hand to thumb the furrows away. It made you smile just like he wanted it to, and gave him a minute to think. “I don’t understand how I didn’t get it before now. I don’t understand how or why you put up with me. I don’t understand how to keep all these feelings inside such a small heart.”

Your hands were stroking his back carefully as you considered his words. “Well, firstly I would argue your heart isn’t small at all, though I get what you mean. You’re not meant to keep all the feelings inside, you know? That’s when you get all sputtery and jittery and start avoiding your best friends.” You gave him a pointed look and he almost shied under your glance. “Sharing them before you bubble over is always a good thing. We’ll work on it together. As for why I put up with you; I don’t. There’s nothing to put up with, I just enjoy you like we always have.”

Your eyes had trailed off into the distance as you thought, but you brought them back to him with a small smile as you added the final part. “I don’t know what did make you realise, so I can’t help you much there. All I can say is, sometimes we don’t see what is right in front of us.”

Remus nodded along to your words, feeling peace spreading within in that manner only you could inspire in him. He truly was an idiot, wasn’t he? “How long have you known?” he asked then, curiously.

“About you or me?”

“Both?” His smile was becoming closer to his standard sheepish one, and you seemed to preen at the sight.

You bobbed your head side to side as you considered. “It’s hard to pinpoint an exact date – it wasn’t an overnight discovery you know?” Remus did in fact not know nor relate. “But I realised we were in love, not either one’s feelings. It just sat calmly within me.”

“You mean you didn’t freak out to the extent where all students and professors alike were worried about you?”

He grinned at the small giggle that drew from you as you decidedly said, “No. Definitely not.” You studied him for a minute more. “I think I realised about five months ago, but I didn’t feel any real need to rush anything. It felt less like being given a to-do list and more like being revealed the plot twist in a movie before it happens, if you understand? The two best friends get together in the end, don’t tell anyone.”

He ducked his head at that. While he could not relate, your explanation and experience was so wholeheartedly you that it endeared him to no end. “Does that mean we should just ignore it for five more months or…?” His grin turned cheeky as you lightly swatted his shoulder.

“Nah,” you chuckled. “I reckon we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”

He sighed with a smile. “Yeah.”

You both leaned forward at the same time, as if to seal the deal with a kiss. Remus could feel it like electricity in the tips of his fingers, and he understood what you meant about knowing. Now that he was no longer in a constant state of panic, he felt incredibly calm about the whole ordeal.

Or maybe that’s just how he feels around you.

“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.

Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”

“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.

Like he had so many times before, he tightened his arms around your waist and twirled you around in a few circles, legs flying out behind you. Except this time, your giggles were not hidden in his neck but pressed against his lips, and he tried to capture as many kisses as possible while he spun you.

When you landed with a breathless giggle, he kept one arm firmly around your waist as the two of you slowly made your way back to the Gryffindor common room. He wondered if maybe he could grab some blankets and bring you up to the Astronomy Tower so you could be alone without his friends’ meddling. Yet, he wanted to see them as well, ready to volley back any quips about “took you long enough” and “I fucking called it”. Plus, you argued that you should prove that he was in fact alive and sane.

When he walked the halls back to the Gryffindor common room with your body against his, everything felt right. When you entered together, and everyone read what had happened written clearly across your faces, resorting to their usual hoots and hollers, arguably louder than ever before, it never stopped feeling right.

Remus being Remus, flushed deeply and averted his gaze, as he would continue doing under any uncalled for attention – but your arms squeezing him around the middle brought him right back down and your kiss to his shoulder soothed the burn of their gazes.

“What’s my gift then?” Sirius later asked salaciously as he eyed you two up and down where you cuddled together right back in the same chair, as if nothing changed. Maybe nothing really did.

You grinned widely and cleared your throat. “I honourably present to you,” you said and opened your arms towards Remus with a flourish. “A Moony who is no longer mooning.”

The little group erupted in even more cheers, celebrating the massive feat of taming their brooding boy. Remus couldn’t help but laugh along, even at his own expense. His cheeks were red but it was equally due to the exertion of laughing as it was a tinge of embarrassment. When he hid his face into the crook of your neck again, he didn’t feel nearly as guilty when he pressed a few kisses to the bare skin he found there – even less so when you melted against him with a sigh.

It felt as if a permanent smile had been sown onto his face where he sat, more content than he believed he had been while inside this castle.

Despite Remus Lupin’s disdain for public displays of affection, he had held you publicly many times before this. They all paled in comparison to the feeling of you in his arms now.

It had always been significant to him in its casualty, just as you have always been significant to him long before he had the mind to put the feeling into words. He will always treasure every moment of your existence in his orbit. Yet the way you melted into his skin now, growing roots in each one of his aching bones – no, nothing could compare to it.

Yes, Remus Lupin ailed from public displays of affection. But you were his cure.

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humanjarvis · 30 days ago

Text

forever boy

synopsis: you used to tell caleb everything. so why doesn’t he know about your new tattoos?

tags: fluff to angst to fluff, you get tattoos without telling caleb and he freaks out and you argue, he guilts you into showing him, surprise reveal (guess what the tattoos are), references to the fleet stuff and his bionic arm, caleb has nightmares, pathetic puppy caleb is back, he’s in the doghouse (ha get it) for less than a day, groveling, happy ending word count: 2.3k

a/n: i am proud of this i think. i made up some dates bc idk the timeline in this game. i also have no tattoos if you were wondering. there are allusions to a beloved recent drabble of mine in here can you guess which one

“Get off of me!” you squeal, gasping through chortles as Caleb's fiendish fingers dance over your belly.

“No can do, pips. Tickle monster doesn’t let his victims off that easy.”

He’s had you pinned down on the couch for almost 10 minutes now, poking and prodding at your sides until you’d grown nauseous from laughter.

But still, Caleb won’t relent. Each time you swat his chest, try to bring your knee up between his legs—cute—he only moves his hands faster. For all the months he’d spent starved for your smile, he’s making up for lost time, he thinks.

“I’m not…laughing because I’m having fun,” you wheeze, wriggling under him unsuccessfully. “This is basically torture. When I get free…I’m making sure you get a dishonorable discharge.”

“What?” he smirks down at you. “If this is so torturous, why don’t you just push me off? Waitttt,” he gasps, leaning in conspiratorially. “It can’t be because I’m stronger than you, can it?”

As his infuriatingly smug, annoyingly handsome face looms over you, Caleb doesn’t realize he’s flown too close to the sun. Before he can react, you capitalize on the opening. Squirming out from beneath him, you take advantage of his surprise and use the momentum to flip him over, your hips now on his waist in a straddle.

“What were you saying?” you ask sweetly, the triumph in your voice slightly dampened by the way you’re still gulping down oxygen.

“Huh,” he shrugs, voice entirely too cheery for someone who’d just been bested. “I guess I stand corrected. Looks like someone’s been getting their reps in.”

“Won’t you admit defeat, then, Mr. Monster?” you smirk. And as you lean over him to assert your victory, Caleb can’t help but gawk at the way your lips part, your shirt rides up, your tattoo shines in the warm light of the—Wait. Your tattoo?!?

No matter how many times he blinked, there was no mistaking it. There, right on the side of your once-bare ribcage, lies the prominent, pitch-black ink.

You’re still hovering over him, your light, playful chuckles fanning his face, but they slowly fade out when his muscles go rigid. Perplexed, you follow his gaze down your body until you finally spot your exposed skin, and with the way you go rigid, Caleb can tell an argument is brewing between you.

The tense silence permeates the air, as if erasing the precious laughter he’d so giddily won from you just moments before.

Like usual, you break first. You couldn’t stand his silence, you’d said the last time. The way it makes you feel small, like you’ve done something wrong, like you’re in trouble. “So help me God, Caleb, I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions. Whatever you’re about to say, drop it. You can tickle me until my sides bleed, just—don’t.”

But Caleb, as much as he loved hearing your voice, wasn’t listening. While you were begging him to drop it, to leave it alone, he was too busy simmering over you doing something so drastic, so permanent to your body without his knowledge—like you didn’t trust him with the information. Didn’t trust him to hold your hand through the pain, to drive you home from the parlor, to wash and treat your tender flesh.

That awful feeling he thought you’d both moved past—had worked so hard to move you past—made him suffocate in his skin.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asks lowly, gravel filling his voice. “Were you…hiding it from me?”

As he rises to lift your shirt and get a clearer view, you intercept his hand in uncompromising resistance. He’d reached for you with his right arm. But somehow, your touch still manages to sting.

It’s Caleb’s turn to laugh, now, but the sound is hollow. “You won’t even show me,” he chuckles humorlessly. “Not even when I already know.” Firmly, but gently as ever, he lifts you off of him and onto the opposite side of the sofa.

You scoff at him, and the look of incredulity on your face would cause a less devoted man to back down. “Don’t lecture me about keeping secrets. I have a tattoo, Caleb. You have a double life.”

“It’s for your own safety that I—”

“Is it for my own safety that you treat me like a child?”

He pauses, and before he can stop it, he feels his face shift into the mask molded for him against his will. The face—his own, but somehow not—that plagues his nightmares. Cold, unfeeling, uncaring, indomitable.

“You don’t have to trust me anymore. But I’d appreciate it if you said it to my face instead of making me believe you did.”

He hears the soft gasp that escapes you, but he refuses to look—too consumed by his emotions, too ashamed to face yours. It’s when he turns to leave that he hears your quick footsteps, and almost immediately, you’re whipping him around to look at you.

Your shirt is raised to the base of your sternum.

And in the warm light of the living room, the soft glow of the summer evening illuminating the streaks on your skin, Caleb sucks in a breath.

VIII IX MMXLVIII

August 9, 2048.

The date your lives had changed. The date he’d broken his promise to always be by your side. The date part of him—physical, or something more—had died.

With a bold, decisive line striking through it.

His eyes dart to the space below. You had another one, he realized. This was the one he’d glimpsed earlier, then—the one that’d made him question your faith in him.

IV XVIII MMXLIX

April 18, 2049.

The date his life had been revealed to you. The date you’d fought your way back into it. The date your shattered souls had met again and vowed to mend each other.

This one is different from the last. The numerals are pure. Pristine, clear, unmarred. Unapologetic.

An insidious, deserved pang spreads through his chest. You’d wanted to remember both dates, to etch them into your skin. You’d needed to move past the first. You’d needed to savor the second.

A space on your sacred body, dedicated to him—to you both. To your tragic end, to your new beginning. Forever.

“Are you happy now, you jerk?” You seethe, yanking your shirt down and snapping him out of his reverie.

And as your voice wobbles, Caleb is anything but.

“Pip-squeak,” he starts hoarsely, feeling anxious bile scald the back of his throat. “I didn’t think…If I’d known….”

“But you didn’t know, Caleb. You didn’t need to know,” you stress. The pained inflections in your voice seem to sync with your steps as you walk to him, your head level with his shuddering chest. “I will bare my soul to you. Happily. When I am good and ready. But forcing me to do it before then? Just so you can convince yourself that I trust you? That gives me all the more reason not to.”

The bite in your tone numbs him to the way you push past him, shoving his shoulder hard enough to bruise. When you retreat to your bedroom, he hears the sharp click of the door lock and allows a wry grin to cross his face at the irony. And he thought you’d been shutting him out before.

You wake up with swollen eyes. An uncomfortable reminder of last night’s humiliation.

With a sigh, you roll your way out of bed, your limbs sore from being hunched in the fetal position for so long. You usually slept with a human-shaped back pillow, but you supposed that arrangement was on pause for the time being.

You wonder how he’s doing. How he’d spend the night, if he’d left in the middle of it. As much as you hate to think it, you wouldn’t blame him.

As you exit—or try to exit—your bedroom, though, it seems your worries are unfounded.

There, slumped against the wooden door, is a sleeping, miserable-looking Caleb. Eyebrows drawn, nose scrunched, hands twitching—he must be having a nightmare.

With a resolute swallow, you push down the pain from the night before and, against your better judgment, prop the door open just enough to slip out.

Kneeling beside him, you stroke his hair gently and hold his left hand in yours. “Caleb,” you call softly. “Wake up, please.”

At the sound of your voice, his eyes flutter open—slowly, at first, until they focus on you. In an instant, surprise, regret, and a flicker of hope flash across his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, tightening his grip on your hand. “I shouldn’t have—even if you hadn’t gotten them for us,” he breathes shakily, “I shouldn’t have pried.”

He’s sitting up now, having pushed himself off the door to get as close to you as you’d allow. The next time he speaks, the rasp in his voice suggests he’d slept about as well as you had.

“You should…” he begins, swallowing thickly. “You should only tell me your secrets when you’re ready. I’ll wait. I’m lucky to know anything about you at all.”

Your chest constricts, and the ghosts of mortification and unwarranted guilt are the only things stopping you from forgiving him. With a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, you remove your palm from his grasp, pretending not to notice when he chases your touch. “You should stretch your legs.”

The day is slow and awkward.

Your top-floor apartment is sweltering in the summer heat, so you don a loose crop top—it’s not like you have anything to lose anymore—and Caleb tries not to stare at your ribs.

It’s Sunday, the day you usually reserve for chores, and you try to ignore the way he follows you through every room: dusting your bedroom fan, mopping the kitchen floor, cleaning the bathtub while you wipe the counter. It’s a wordless process, but a seamless one—evidently, even a stalemate can’t jeopardize your synchrony.

He disappears when you’re finishing up, and as you wonder if he’d gotten sick of your anger, the scent of your favorite food wafts through the air. In curiosity, hunger, and abashed dependence—you couldn’t boil an egg without starting a fire—you warily make your way to the kitchen you’d both left spotless.

It still is, for the most part; the only hint of disturbance is the freshly cooked meal sitting on the island. One plate, one glass, one set of silverware. And Caleb sits in the living room, pretending to busy himself with a diagram, forlornly glancing over to you every few seconds. There if you need him, but not daring to intrude.

It’s nighttime when he tries again.

You’re reading on the couch, instinctively avoiding the cursed spot from the night before, when Caleb shuffles into the room. In utter dejection, he makes room for himself on the floor between your legs and hugs his knees to his chest. The action tugs at your dwindling resolve, weakened by the care he’d shown you today, and before you know it, you’re running your fingers through his hair.

He stiffens and relaxes at your touch before leaning back into you, enveloping himself in your embrace. As he presses innocent, lingering kisses to the inside of your knee, you feel the quiet tension in the room begin to build.

This time, he breaks the silence.

“I never would have imagined those days meant so much to you,” he begins softly. “Wasn’t sure if you thought the first was a blessing in disguise. If you thought the second was some kind of curse.” Your hand falters in his tousled locks, and he exhales shakily. “I was just…surprised, pips. And hurt, I guess. You doin’ something so serious without tellin’ me—it never would’ve happened before,” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean to guilt trip you into showing me, I just…”

“I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed,” you whisper, saving him from the struggle of finding the right words. “Not because I don’t trust you. I do, if you can believe it. More than anyone.”

Caleb stills against you, and you place a hand on his shoulder before continuing with a sigh. “I basically saw those numbers in my sleep, at one point,” you chuckle in self-deprecation. “They flashed in my head over, and over, and over—the day I lost you, the day I found you. So I figured the only way to stop it was to carry them with me, always. And when the clarity hit…I thought I was silly. Immature. Like, I had something etched onto my body for you, Caleb. I felt like I was too attached. Too dependent on you.”

“Is it bad if I say I’d like that?” he quips with a tired smile. “Pip-squeak,” he sighs. “You could never be too attached to me. When I saw those dates—when I realized what they meant,” he swallows, “I wanted to hold you to me ‘til I couldn’t breathe. Wanted to tattoo your tattoos inside my eyelids so I could see them every time I blink,” he jokes, kissing your palm. “That’s too attached, by the way.”

As you giggle at him—your first in almost 24 hours—he brightens slightly. “I really am sorry for forcing your hand. Makin’ you feel like your only choice was to tell me. But, for the record, those are the least embarrassing tattoos I’ve ever seen. Gideon has one of a monkey, you know.”

And after you duck your head into his shoulder to stifle your laughter, you haul him up and into your bedroom—no door for a mattress, this time. You’re both due for some much-needed sleep.

The next day, you stand in front of your bathroom mirror while Caleb hugs you from behind, admiring the inky black lines on your exposed waist. Leaning in to kiss your cheek, he whispers into your ear: “You know, they say rib tattoos hurt a lot. You shouldn’t have had to go through all that alone. Why don’t I get matching ones so we can share the pain?”

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downbad4sylus · 4 months ago

Text

“Sylus, something’s wrong.”

(inspired by this post)

synopsis: After an impromptu mission with Sylus, you have a sudden flare up of your Protocore Syndrome.

content: sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; established relationship; angst. so much angst; zayne cameo; happy ending; mostly proofread

word count: ~2.4k

a/n: been cooking this up for a while, then was inspired by the post referenced above. hope everyone enjoys like two thousand words of pure angst :D

Sylus always enjoyed tagging along on your missions. He enjoyed all the time he spent with you of course, but fighting beside you was like seeing a physical manifestation of how far you’d come in your relationship. You moved in perfect synchronicity, supporting and anticipating the other’s moves without so much as a word passed between you. And when you resonated, when your powers combined and your light filled his darkness, Sylus felt like he was floating on air. Oh how far you’d come with him, and now you were his and only his.

Working in tandem, you and Sylus finished off the last of the Wanderers that had interrupted your walk through the park, the protofield dissipating.

Breathing heavily, but otherwise unharmed, you checked your Hunter’s Watch. “The area’s all clear,” you announced.

“That was fun, sweetie,” Sylus drawled with a grin. “We should fight Wanderers on our walks more often.”

You chucked. “They do spice things up, don’t they?”

“They do,” he agreed. He held out his hand for yours. “Come, let’s go sit and catch our breaths.”

Smiling, you reached for his hand—

A sudden wave of discomfort washed over you. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

“Sweetie?”

Instinctively, the hand that reached for his retreated, curling against your chest.

You looked up into Sylus’s red, gem-like eyes and took a staggering step toward him. “Sylus, something’s wrong. I don’t feel right.”

Sylus’s face twisted with concern, and he closed what little distance lay between you, gently gripping your upper arms. “What is it? Tell me.”

“My…heart...”

You went limp.

Sylus caught you before you could fall, tilting your head up. “Y/N?”

No answer, you were unconscious.

Sylus was well aware of your heart condition, however for as long as he’d known you, you’d never had a flare up.

A fear he hadn’t felt before—so visceral in the way it stole the air from his lungs—washed over him.

He didn’t know what to do.

You never told him what he was supposed to do if this happened.

What was he supposed to do?

Sylus moved on instinct alone, sweeping you into his arms as he strode for his car. He pulled your phone out of your pocket, unlocking it with practiced ease, and scrolled through your contacts until he found who he was looking for.

It rang only once before the caller picked up.

“Y/N, should I be worried you’re calling me out of the blue like this?” asked the cool, slightly amused voice.

“Are you at the hospital?” Sylus questioned, trying very hard to keep the panic from his voice.

He felt the shift in demeanor through the phone.

“Who is this?”

He might have appreciated Dr. Zayne’s suspicion were these different circumstances, but right now, Sylus didn’t have the patience for it.

“Her boyfriend,” Sylus snapped. “Are you at the hospital?”

There was a pause. “Yes, I’m at the hospital. Is Y/N all right?”

Sylus swallowed against the growing lump in his throat and choked out, “It’s her heart.”

Zayne swore softly. “How far away are you?” His tone was more frantic now, mirroring Sylus’s own inner turmoil.

“Maybe ten minutes,” Sylus said, finally reaching his car. He didn’t bother to put you in the passenger seat, he simply held your limp body in his lap as he started the car and peeled out of the parking lot.

“Come to the emergency room, I’ll have a stretcher and team ready by the time you arrive.”

The line went dead, so Sylus tossed your phone onto the empty passenger seat and focused on the road ahead of him.

He weaved in and out of traffic, ignoring a myriad of laws to do so. He didn’t care about the others cars on the road, or the pedestrians trying to cross the street, all that mattered to him was you.

Sylus kissed the top of your head, willing and praying for you to be okay. “Come on,” he whispered, his hand tightening around the steering wheel, “just hold on a little longer for me, kitten.”

—

Pulling up to the curb in front of Akso Hospital’s emergency room, Sylus had barely put the car in park before barreling out, leaving the door wide open as he ran for the entrance with you cradled in his arms.

Zayne was waiting inside, just as he’d said, with a team of doctors and a stretcher. Sylus carefully laid you out on the stretcher, keeping your hand in his.

“What happened?” Zayne asked, leading the team out of the lobby and into the emergency ward.

“We were fighting Wanderers,” Sylus explained, “Y/N wasn’t injured but she said something was wrong all of sudden, and before she collapsed, she said it was her heart.”

Zayne, with a clinical precision, began barking orders at his team of which Sylus paid no attention. He was laser focused on you, on your unconscious form on the stretcher, on the hand he gripped tightly with his own.

He couldn’t lose you, not so soon after he’d finally been able to call you his.

Only moments later, Zayne stopped at another set of double doors, marked for hospital staff only.

“I need to evaluate Y/N’s condition and from there I’ll determine the best course of treatment,” he explained as the team rolled you through the doors, your hand slipping from Sylus’s grasp. “I’ll update you when I can. You can wait in my office, just ask one of the nurses at the front for directions.”

Zayne didn’t wait for Sylus’s reply and strode through the doors after you.

Sylus stood frozen for a moment, still in shock that this was even happening. That you were no longer by his side and he now had to wait for updates on your condition.

He felt so useless, and Sylus hated feeling useless.

Sylus wrestled with his emotions as he finally moved from the doors and headed toward Zayne’s office. He knew the way, he’d memorized the location of where your doctor conducted your check ups long ago.

He was furious with himself as he stalked through the halls. He was supposed to take care of you but now had to rely on others to do it for him. Sylus could heal your physical wounds with his Evol, but he wouldn’t dare touch your heart with it for fear he would do much more harm than good. He did not have the wealth of knowledge and experience of Protocore Syndrome like Zayne. He could do nothing but pass you off to those more equipped to help you. He could do nothing but wait and pray that you’d be okay.

—

Sylus waited in Zayne’s office for hours.

Naturally, he’d searched through its entirety. It was mostly out of the need to do something more than just sit around and wait.

There wasn’t much of note, but Sylus did notice a few odds and ends on Zayne’s desk that he knew had come from you. Again, were the circumstances different, Sylus would’ve been more upset seeing your touches on your doctor’s desk, touches that should be reserved solely for him and no one else. But rather than be upset, seeing these things only produced a hollow ache in Sylus’s chest.

Would he lose the touches you made in his life? Would the growing collection of odds and ends on his desk back at the base stop in its tracks, never to be added to again? Would the slow plushy takeover of his bed, his couches, cease as well? What would he do with your things? He couldn’t get rid of them, but would he be able to bear looking at them, day in and day out, knowing you were no longer there alongside them? Alongside him?

The pain of losing you quite literally knocked Sylus off his feet. He collapsed on the couch, burying his face in his hands.

He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t lose you.

Sylus wondered if this was how you felt after you’d lost him, in another lifetime amongst a field of flowers. He prayed that fate be kind to him, that fate spare you, so he could make it up to you, for leaving you as he did. He would shower you in love, to make up for a lifetime lost but also to promise a lifetime anew. He never took you for granted, not for one second, but if you survived this, he would make damn sure you knew how much he loved and appreciated you.

The office door opening tore Sylus from his thoughts, his head snapping up to find Zayne striding toward him. The doctor sat on the couch beside Sylus, staring at his hands. Sylus noticed the scars on his arms, peeking out from his slightly rolled up sleeves.

“Y/N is stable,” Zayne said, prompting a tidal wave of relief to crash over Sylus. “Her flare up was nothing too serious this time, but she’ll need to rest for a few weeks before returning to work.” Zayne met Sylus’s gaze, hazel tinged with green locked on striking, ruby-red. “Can I trust you’ll make her follow my treatment plan?”

Despite himself, Sylus huffed a laugh. “She is a stubborn one, isn’t she?”

“To a fault,” replied Zayne.

“Yeah, I’ll make her,” said Sylus. “I have no intention of having her repeat this anytime soon. Once was more than enough for me.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” Zayne rose from the couch. “Would you like to see her?”

—

Seeing you laying in the hospital bed, hooked up to an IV, your steady pulse beeping from the heart monitor, was a sight that almost brought Sylus to his knees.

At first glance, he thought you were dead, despite knowing that Zayne had said you were stable. But even as his emotions caught up with his logic, it was still a hard pill from him to swallow.

As Zayne stayed near the door to give you both a semblance of privacy, Sylus swiftly crossed the room and sat in the chair beside the bed, taking your hand without the IV needle in it between both of his.

“I’m here, sweetie,” he murmured, running his thumb along your skin. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Your brow furrowed as your nose scrunched. Your eyes opened slowly, as if hearing Sylus’s voice had roused you into consciousness.

You blinked slowly, taking in the strange space in front of you. It took a few moments before it became clear, before you realized you were in the hospital, when the last thing you remembered was being in the park with Sylus.

Sylus.

Your gaze drifted to where he sat at your bedside, cradling your hand in both of his. “Sy?” you croaked. “Why are we at the hospital? I thought we were at the park.”

His face was nothing but tender as he looked at you, providing you with an innate sense of safety and comfort. “We were,” he said softly. “What do you remember?”

“We fought some Wanderers…and we were going to sit on a bench to catch our breaths…and then nothing,” you said.

“Before we could sit, you told me that you didn’t feel right,” Sylus explained. “You said something was wrong with your heart, and then you fainted. I brought you straight to the hospital.”

Your brows knitted. “Is Zayne here?”

“I am, Y/N,” Zayne said, moving from his spot near the door to the end of your bed.

“Doctor Zayne.” You managed a small smile. “What’s the prognosis?”

The exasperation was clear in your doctor’s expression as he grabbed your chart and looked it over. “You’ll live,” he replied dryly.

You chuckled. “Isn’t that a relief.”

Sylus squeezed your hand and you looked to him. He was frowning and did not seem remotely amused at your attempt at levity. Knowing you had probably scared the poor man half to death, you resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at him.

“You’ll need to stay overnight for observation,” Zayne continued, either unaware or uncaring of yours and Sylus’s silent conversation. “As long as your vitals are normal come the morning, you’ll be able to go home, under a strict treatment regiment of course.”

You rolled your eyes, earning another disapproving squeeze from Sylus.

Zayne glanced up from your chart, meeting your gaze.

“Thank you, doctor,” you said to him, genuinely meaning it.

“It’s my job,” was his simple reply. He glanced between you and Sylus. “I’ll leave you for now, but I’ll be back later to check on you.”

“Thank you,” Sylus said, surprising you.

Zayne gave a curt nod before making a swift exit.

You opened your mouth to speak to Sylus but was interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” you asked when he made no move to retrieve it.

He shook his head. “It’s just the twins looking for an update.” He reached up with one of his hands, gently cupping your cheek. “How do you feel?”

You leaned into his touch. “I feel okay.”

“Don’t ever do that to me again.” There was a rare vulnerability in Sylus’s voice as he said those words, one that told you all you needed to know about the time he spent while Zayne was treating you.

But you couldn’t make him that promise. You knew that, and you knew he knew that.

Still, this didn’t stop you from saying, “I won’t.”

Satisfied, Sylus rose from the chair and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too much to lose you, okay?” he whispered against your skin.

“Okay,” you whispered back. “And I love you too.”

—

Bonus:

“No rigorous activity of any kind for at least a week,” Zayne instructed harshly as he wrapped up your strict treatment plan before you were to be discharged. A positively smug glint sparkled in his eyes as he said, “That includes sexual activity.”

Your face went beet red. “Zayne!” you exclaimed, burying your face in your hands to hide your embarrassment. “Why would you say that?! I understood what you meant!”

“It’s a doctor’s duty to be as detailed as possible when giving a patient’s treatment plan,” he responded with a slight smirk.

“I’m seeing Greyson from now on.”

“Let’s not be dramatic.”

“Zayne! Just let me go home already!”

As Sylus silently observed the back and forth, he begrudgingly admitted to himself that he might actually like your doctor.

#l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #sylus angst #lads angst #love and deepspace angst #l&ds angst

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verstappenverse · 3 months ago

Note

oh i think i have a request 🤭 maybe max starts to date reader cause of a bet but he ends up actually falling in love with her…kinda angst but maybe fluffy and happy ending as well?

The Bet and The Fall

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max starts dating you on a bet never expecting to fall for you, but as your relationship grows he must confront the fallout of his careless gamble.

4k words / Masterlist

You never thought the end of your year would involve Max Verstappen.

The first time you saw him, he’d been exactly what you expected. Quick wit, easy smirk, and just enough arrogance to carry the weight of his success. He’d walked into the bar with a confidence that commanded attention, his laughter spilling into the room like it belonged there. And maybe it did.

You didn’t think much of him then. He was just another face, another fleeting encounter on a night out. But fate or something cruelly ironic had other plans.

It started with an accident, a spill of your drink when you turned too quickly, bumping straight into him. His reflexes were sharp, of course, the glass never hit the ground.

"Smooth," he’d said, voice tinged with amusement as he set the glass down.

You’d laughed it off, brushing away your embarrassment. "Thanks for the save. You’re faster off track than I thought."

That had earned a raised brow and a crooked grin. "You know who I am?"

"I’m not living under a rock."

Max shrugged, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You don’t look like the type who goes to parties like this.”

Your laugh was genuine, surprising even yourself. “And what does that mean exactly?”

"Nothing bad." he said, watching you closely. "But I’m good at reading people."

"And what do you read from me?"

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… you seem like you’re trying to figure out how you ended up here.”

“You’re not wrong,” you admitted, glancing around the room. “I’m here because my friend insisted. Apparently I need to ‘live a little.’”

Max’s smile widened, and there was something disarming about it, “And are you? Living a little?”

You shrugged, feeling oddly at ease despite the absurdity of the situation. “I guess I am now.”

He’d offered to replace your drink, and you’d let him, thinking it was nothing more than a kind gesture. He shifted slightly closer, the noise of the party fading into the background as the two of you talked.

The conversation flowed more easily than you expected. Max was charming in a way that felt unpolished, his humour dry and his smile boyish despite the confidence he carried. He asked questions about you, what you did, where you were from, and he actually seemed interested in your answers.

At some point, you forgot who he was. You forgot that you were talking to someone whose life was splashed across headlines and social media. And when your best friend eventually came to drag you away, Max had looked genuinely disappointed.

When he asked for your number as you were standing up to leave, you hesitated.

"I don’t usually do this," you admitted, handing him your phone anyway.

"I don’t either," he replied, though the glint in his eyes made you doubt that.

Still, he’d texted you the next day and slowly things started to unfold.

What you didn’t know at the time was that across the room someone had been watching the entire interaction with a smirk plastered on their face.

Max had been sitting at a table with his friends earlier that night, a drink in his hand and an argument brewing. It wasn’t unusual competitive personalities clashed even off the track. But tonight Daniel had been relentless, poking at Max’s habits, his so-called inability to "settle down."

"You don’t even know how to date properly," Daniel joked. "I bet you wouldn’t last two weeks with a normal girl."

Max rolled his eyes. "And what does that even mean?"

"It means," Daniel said, grin widening, "you’re all about control. You don’t let anyone in unless you’ve already decided it’s worth your time. Where’s the fun in that? Where’s the spontaneity?"

Max scoffed. "You’re talking like I don’t know how to have a real relationship."

"Because you don’t," Daniel shot back, laughing. "Prove me wrong. Bet you wouldn’t last a month with someone who isn’t already part of your world. No models, no influencers, no one born into racing. A normal person. You’d combust."

Max leaned back, unimpressed. "I could date anyone I wanted."

Daniel’s eyes gleamed with mischief. "Alright, Verstappen. Prove it." He gestured toward the bar, where you stood unaware of their gaze. "Her. One month. Bet you can’t do it."

Max followed Daniel’s line of sight, lips twitching as he took you in. You were laughing at something a friend had said, head tossed back, easy and unguarded. There was no designer handbag, no polished effort to impress.

Max smirked, arrogance slipping easily into his voice. "Easy."

"Oh, is it?" Daniel teased. "She doesn’t look like the type to fall for your usual tricks mate."

"She’ll fall," Max said, confidence unwavering. "They always do."

Daniel arched an eyebrow. "Alright then." He held out his hand. "If you pull it off drinks are on me for the rest of the year."

Max clasped Daniel’s hand without hesitation. "Deal."

What he didn’t anticipate was how easy it would be to approach you or how different you would be from what he expected. When he wandered over to the bar, leaning casually against the counter, he didn’t have to try hard to strike up a conversation. You were warm, quick-witted, and entirely uninterested in the weight of his name.

You didn’t look at him like he was Max Verstappen, Formula 1 World Champion. You looked at him like he was just a guy who spilled your drink and owed you a new one. It caught him off guard, that refreshing lack of pre-tense.

Max had meant for it to be a game, a challenge to prove his point. What he didn’t realise then was that he’d just placed a bet against his own heart. And for the first time in his life, he was about to lose.

Looking back, you’d wonder if you should have noticed the cracks sooner.

Everything felt perfect. Max was attentive, charming, and surprisingly easy to talk to. He wasn’t just the Max Verstappen the world saw he was softer with you, more thoughtful. He’d remember small details, how you liked your coffee, the book you were reading, the song stuck in your head.

He made you laugh too, really laugh, the kind that bubbled up unexpectedly, catching you off guard, leaving your cheeks aching and your stomach fluttering. And when he kissed you for the first time his hands cradled your face, careful and deliberate, like he was afraid you might slip through his fingers if he wasn’t gentle enough. There was something almost reverent about the way he touched you, like he was holding something fragile, something precious, something he wasn’t sure he deserved but wasn’t willing to let go of either, and when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting lightly against yours, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw, you realised something terrifying.

You had fallen fast, and you had fallen hard.

What you didn’t know was that Max hadn’t expected to fall at all.

A month came and went, but by then Max wasn’t counting anymore. The bet was long forgotten, buried under the weight of late-night conversations, stolen glances, and the way your laugh seemed to echo in his mind long after you were gone.

At first, it was easier to ignore the way something shifted in his chest whenever you were around, the way his mind drifted to you even in moments when he should have been focused. He told himself it was just intrigue, a fleeting distraction that would fade once the bet was over. But then, moment by moment, the reality became impossible to ignore.

It was the way you laughed, unrestrained, unselfconscious. The kind of laugh that made people turn their heads, infectious and full of life. The way you talked with your hands, so animated and expressive that he found so captivating. The way you challenged him, never intimidated by his sharp edges or his reputation, meeting him head-on with quick wit, making him feel like he didn’t have to be Verstappen, the calculated driver, the public figure, with you he could just be Max.

He fell without realising it, like slipping into a warm bath, slow, comforting, inevitable.

The tipping point came on what should have been a regular, quiet evening at your place. You’d insisted on cooking dinner for him brushing off his protests about how he could just order something instead. The kitchen was chaos, vegetables half-chopped, sauce simmering too quickly, flour dusting your shirt, but you didn’t seem to care. You were too busy laughing at yourself, muttering about how you were definitely not cut out for MasterChef.

“Come on Verstappen,” you teased, tossing him an apron. “You can’t be a world champion and not know how to chop an onion.”

Max caught the apron midair, a mock look of horror on his face. “I don’t think that’s in the championship requirements.”

“Well it’s in mine,” you quipped, tying your own apron behind your back. “Get chopping.”

Max leaned against the counter, watching you with an expression that would have given him away in an instant if you’d turned to look at him.

“You’re staring,” you teased after a while.

He smirked. “Maybe I like what I’m seeing.”

You rolled your eyes, but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you.

It was a simple moment, but it lodged itself in Max’s chest like a permanent fixture. He knew then it wasn’t just intrigue or infatuation, he loved you. And that terrified him.

The closer you got, the harder it became for him to bury the truth. He tried telling himself it didn’t matter, the bet had been stupid, something meaningless that had quickly been replaced by something real. But every time he saw the trust in your eyes, every time you looked at him like he was the best thing to ever happen to you, the guilt churned in his stomach.

There were nights he barely slept, lying awake in bed with the weight of it pressing down on him. What if you found out? What if you looked at him with disgust, walked away without giving him the chance to explain? He couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t lose you.

Every moment with you, big or small, was another thread tying him closer to you. He didn’t know how it happened so fast, but he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it. You were his home, his safe place, and he was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you.

One evening, the two of you sat curled up on the couch in his Monaco apartment, a movie playing in the background that neither of you was paying much attention to. You rested your head on his chest, and he pressed a kiss to your hair, his heart aching with how perfect it felt.

But then you spoke. “You’re quiet tonight. Everything okay?”

The words made his chest tighten. You always noticed. Even the smallest shifts in his mood never escaped your attention.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

You tilted your head to look at him, your eyes searching his face. “Are you sure? You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

The guilt surged, and for a fleeting moment, he considered telling you. The words hovered on the tip of his tongue, but then he imagined the way your expression would change, the way you’d pull away from him, he couldn’t bear it.

Instead he leaned down to kiss you hoping it would be enough to distract you. You sighed into the kiss, your hands finding their way into his hair, and for a moment he let himself believe it was enough.

“I love you,” you murmured against his lips, your voice soft and certain.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “I love you too,” he said, his voice trembling with the weight of everything he couldn’t say.

He adjusted the blanket over you and pressed another kiss to the top of your head. “Get some sleep liefje.”

Max buried the secret deeper after that night, convincing himself that it was better this way. You wouldn’t forgive him, he was sure of it, and he couldn’t risk losing you.

But the guilt didn’t go away. It lingered like a shadow, growing heavier with every passing day. He started overcompensating, showering you with affection, he’d buy you flowers every day, plan spontaneous dates, and do anything he could to keep you happy.

And it worked. You were happy. You loved him. And Max loved you so much it hurt.

The fear of losing you consumed him. It drove him to be better, to be the man you deserved, but it also ate away at him. He avoided certain conversations, terrified that you’d somehow stumble upon the truth. He cut Daniel off sharply whenever he brought up the bet, even if you were nowhere near, his tone cold and final.

“Don’t,” he snapped when Daniel jokingly mentioned it in passing. “It’s not funny.”

Daniel raised his hands in surrender, the mere mention of the bet made Max’s chest tighten, the fear creeping back in. He couldn’t let you find out because Max knew one thing with absolute certainty, if you ever did he’d lose you.

No matter how hard he tried the fallout was inevitable.

The night had started out like any other, one of those glitzy, over-the-top events Max had to attend where champagne flowed like water and conversations were laced with artificial charm. You had never particularly liked these parties, but for Max you endured them.

Maybe that’s why you had stepped outside. The ballroom was too loud, too stifling, too full of people who smiled too widely and spoke in half-truths. You had wanted air, a moment to breathe away from it all, and then you heard it.

Max’s voice, unmistakable even in the distance, low and edged with something uncharacteristically uneasy. You followed it instinctively, your heels clicking against the marble floors as you rounded the corner toward the balcony. You weren’t eavesdropping, at least that wasn’t the intention but something in his tone made you pause just before stepping into view.

"I didn’t think it’d go this far," Max said, his voice quiet with exasperation. "It was a stupid bet Daniel. A fucking drunk, meaningless bet. And now I—now she—”

His words cut off abruptly like he couldn't even bring himself to say it out loud, but the damage was already done.

Your heart stopped.

The world seemed to tilt under your feet, the music and laughter from the party fading into white noise. Bet. The word hit you like a punch to the stomach, knocking the air from your lungs.

You didn’t hear the rest. You didn’t need to.

A choked breath escaped your lips before you could stop it, and that tiny sound was enough to break whatever bubble of secrecy Max had been operating in. His head snapped toward you, his eyes widening in alarm as he registered your presence.

"Shit," he muttered, his entire body tensing.

You didn’t wait for an explanation. Your feet were already moving, the panic clawing at your throat as you turned on your heel and pushed past the doors leading inside. You needed to get out.

"Wait—"

Max was already chasing after you, shoving past Daniel, who muttered a quiet curse calling out for Max as he realised what had just happened, but Max didn’t hear him, or maybe he didn’t care. His focus was on you weaving through the crowd as you dodged between people your vision blurred with tears.

When Max found you, you were already halfway out the entrance.

"Wait," he called, his voice raw with panic. "Please just listen it's not what you think—"

"Don’t," you bit out, whirling to face him. "Don’t insult me by pretending this wasn’t exactly what it looks like."

His face crumpled, "It wasn’t supposed to be like this."

"Then what was it supposed to be Max?" Your voice shook, the weight of betrayal pressing down on your chest. "A joke? Something to laugh about with your friends? A game to pass the time until you got bored?"

"No," he said stepping forward, hands reaching for you like he could fix this if he just got close enough. "At first-when we first met I…it doesn’t matter, but not anymore. Not for a long time. I swear, I didn’t mean for this to happen-"

"But it did," you cut him off, voice breaking under the weight of it all. "And you let it happen. You let me believe in this, in you, while you knew—"

"I fell for you too," he rasped, his desperation tangible. "I swear to god, I did. And now I can't—" His breath hitched, words failing him. "I can’t imagine my life without you."

"Stop," you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks. "You don’t get to say that. Not now. Not when this," you gestured between you, "was built on a lie."

His wiped away his own tear that had fallen. "But we were happy, that was real." he pleaded, voice breaking. "I tried so fucking hard to make you happy everyday, to make everything perfect. Doesn’t that count for something?"

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head as fresh pain sliced through you. "No, Max. It doesn’t. Because it was never real. You don’t get to build something on a lie and then act like the good parts outweigh the truth."

He reached for you again, but you stepped back, the distance between you feeling impossibly vast.

"I can't do this, Max. I can't be with someone who—" Your voice faltered. "Someone who made me love them knowing it was never real."

"It is real, I swear I lov-" he pleaded, but you just turned away.

And this time, when you walked away, you didn't look back.

Max tried everything to win you back. Texts, calls, presents, even showing up at your door unannounced. But you ignored him, too hurt to entertain the idea of forgiveness. It wasn’t until over a month later that he finally got through to you.

A knock at your door interrupted the quiet of your evening. You weren’t expecting anyone. And when you peeked through the peephole, your stomach twisted. Max, again.

You hesitated, fingers hovering over the lock, but before you could turn away his voice came through the door, muffled but unmistakably determined.

"I’m not leaving until you talk to me."

You sighed, pressing your forehead against the wood. A couple of weeks ago you would have let him sit there all night. Now, all you felt was confused. But… you unlocked it, pulling it open just enough that you could stand in the door.

"Max—"

"Wait," he cut in gently, his eyes desperate. "Please. Just let me say this."

"I messed up," he admitted, his voice raw with regret. "I know I did. And part of me wishes I could go back and never agree to the stupid bet, to stop it before it ever started." He swallowed hard, his eyes searching yours. "But I can’t. And the truth is… I don’t know if I’d want to."

You reached for the door, but he pressed on.

"Because the bet led me to you. And I don’t regret that. I regret lying. I regret hurting you. But I could never regret you." His voice broke slightly. "I love you. Not because of some stupid decision, but because of who you are."

He took a step closer to the door careful, like he knew he was balancing on a knife’s edge.

"Because of the way you ramble when you're excited. The way you always text me when you see something that reminds you of me, no matter how small. The way you—" He let out a shaky breath. "The way you make me feel like I've finally found something that matters more than everything I ever thought I wanted”

"I know I don’t deserve another chance," he continued, voice softer now. "But if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that I’m not the guy who made that bet. I’m the guy who loves you. And I swear, I will never stop trying to be better for you."

Silence wrapped around you both. You swallowed hard, fighting against the warmth creeping into the cracks he had just reopened. "You had months Max. Months to tell me the truth. And you didn’t. You let me find out like that…why?”

His fingers twitched at his sides, and for a long moment he just stared at the ground, his breath coming uneven.

"Because I was scared," he admitted, "scared that if I told you, I’d lose you. That you’d look at me like you did that night, like I was just a mistake you regretted. I kept telling myself I’d find the right time, that I’d make it up to you before you ever had to know, and I fell for you, really fell, and suddenly telling you felt like handing you a reason to walk away."

For all the ways you wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the betrayal, there was something devastating about the way he said it.

"So you lied instead," you murmured.

His lips pressed together, his head bowing slightly. "I did. And it was the worst decision I’ve ever made." His eyes lifted back to yours, full of something desperate. "But I swear to you, losing you showed me exactly what kind of man I never want to be again."

"I don’t know if I can trust you again," you whispered.

Max nodded, no trace of frustration, just quiet determination. "I’ll earn it," he vowed. "No matter how long it takes."

Your gaze flickered to the flowers in his hands. Slowly, hesitantly, you reached out, fingertips brushing against his as you took them.

It wasn’t a yes. Not yet.

But it wasn’t a no, either.

And the way his lips parted slightly, the hope in his eyes you knew he’d wait for as long as you needed. A beat passed before you sighed and pushed the door open wider.

"Come in, just for a bit."

He paused, like he was afraid to move too fast, but the second you stepped back he followed slipping inside. You set the flowers down on the counter, fingers brushing over the petals as you tried to steady yourself.

"You’ve been eating right?" he asked a flicker of that familiar concern in his expression.

You huffed a small, reluctant laugh. "Seriously? That’s your first question after all that?"

Max shrugged, tentative in his smile. "I’ve been worried."

You rolled your eyes, but your chest ached in a way you hadn’t let yourself acknowledge in weeks. You had missed him, his presence, his quiet care, the way he always paid attention to the little things.

"Yes, I’ve been eating," you said, shifting your weight awkwardly.

"Good." He nodded, then hesitated. "Can I—sit?"

You hesitated to, then gave him a small nod. "Yeah. Just… don’t push your luck."

Max smiled at that, he walked over to the couch sitting at the far end, after a moment you sat down to, tucking your legs beneath you. Neither of you spoke at first. The air still felt heavy, but not unbearable. Max rubbed his palms over his thighs, glancing at you before looking away again.

"This is weird," you admitted.

"Yeah," he agreed, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "But not bad, right?"

You exhaled, staring down at your hands. "Not bad."

His grin widened, "Let’s order something, whatever you want.” his voice dropped, teasing. "Just don’t steal my fries."

"Who says I’d want your fries?" you murmured.

Max smirked. "You always want my fries."

You huffed dramatically, turning your attention back to your phone. "Fine. I’ll order my own. Happy?"

"Not yet," he murmured, the teasing edge in his voice softening into something else. "But I’m getting there."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, but the warmth creeping into your chest was impossible to ignore. No, it wasn’t forgiveness. Not yet. But later when Max stole a fry from your box, grinning at you like he hadn’t just started a war you realised it was a start, a real one.

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yuujispinkhair · 11 months ago

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College Boy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up

A while ago, I saw a post that asked which of our faves accidentally knocks us up, and I answered it with "CollegeBoy!Sukuna." So here is the fic about that ;)

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. College AU. Light angst with a happy end. 2k words. Pregnancy, mentions of Sukuna smoking a cigarette. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples

"Damn, princess, how long does that shitty thing need?"

Sukuna has dropped his usual act of aloofness. For once, there is no teasing comment coming out of his mouth, no arrogant smirk, no flirty wink, and no charming look out of those beautiful maroon eyes. Your usually so arrogant and tough bad boy is scared shitless.

For the last few minutes, he has been playing with his tongue-piercing continuously, driving you almost insane with the constant noise of the metal barbell connecting with Sukuna's teeth. But you can't blame him. You are even more nervous than Sukuna.

You lean closer to the old couch table again, looking at the pregnancy test that's lying there, and your stomach twists painfully. There's a change now. A second line has appeared on the little test strip. You feel your heart drop.

The alarm on your phone goes off right at that moment, making you jump as you grab the test with shaky fingers. Holding the sheet with the instructions in the other hand, you read them feverishly as if you haven't already learned them by heart. As if you don't already know what the two lines mean!

Sukuna leans across the table, too,

"What does it say?"

But you only hear his voice muffled as if you are underwater. You stare at the two lines on the pregnancy test, feeling your head spin. Sukuna's large hand darts out and wraps around your trembling wrist, pulling your hand and the test towards him while repeating his question more urgently this time.

But you can't say anything and just throw the test in Sukuna's lap. He grabs it and stares at it, his maroon eyes going wide as comprehension dawns on his beautiful, tattooed face.

"Fuck."

That's all he says, and then he looks at you with wide eyes, shock and fear written all over his face. He looks younger somehow, like a scared little boy. His lips open, but no words come out. He closes them again and gulps hard.

And then Sukuna gets up from the couch and practically bolts from the small living room, walking so fast that he has reached the apartment door before you even realize what he's doing.

His large hand is already on the door handle, pushing it open when your mind finally catches up with what is going on, and you feel like tumbling into darkness.

Sukuna is going to run, isn't he? Of course, he's going to leave! Of course, a guy like him is only interested in having fun but no responsibility! Of course, he will always stay the bad boy who just likes to party and fuck and do whatever the hell he wants! And a pregnant girlfriend is the last thing he needs!

Your hands ball into fists. You're about to scream at him or cry or break down.

But before you can do any of that, Sukuna stops in the doorway.

He is standing there with his back to you, so tall that his hair is almost brushing against the doorframe. You watch him fumble ungracefully with his cigarettes in a way that is completely untypical for him, nearly dropping the pack and needing several tries to light a cigarette before he brings it to his lips with a shaky hand and takes a deep drag.

You let out a slow breath, slumping back against the couch.

He didn't leave.

Sukuna turns his head slowly to look at you over his broad shoulder. Suddenly, his eyes widen, and he bangs the door shut and quickly strides back to the small living area, bending down to hastily stub his cigarette out in the ashtray on the couch table.

"Shit, I forgot that I shouldn't smoke when you are...," he stops mid-sentence, and his eyes wander to your belly, "when you are... ah fuck..."

Sukuna runs a trembling, tattooed hand through his pink hair. You both stare at each other for a long moment, both unable to say the words out loud. But your mind screams them at you:

Pregnant. You are pregnant with Sukuna's baby!

You have no idea how it even happened. Were Sukuna and you not careful enough? Maybe too horny and too drunk after one of the various parties you went to? Did a condom rip, and you didn't realize it? Maybe if it was any other month, things would have gone differently, but you had exams and were in a constant state of stress. You simply didn't have the mind to worry about anything else but studying and then fucking like bunnies for stress relief!

You feel so stupid. You were always so sure that something like this would never happen to you. An accidental pregnancy was something that only happened to those girls in those trashy reality TV shows!

Well, now look at you.

Pregnant from your college sweetheart, the bad boy with the face tattoos. The guy you are head over heels in love with but who you didn't even dare bring home to your parents yet because they took one look at a picture of the two of you, saw Sukuna's tattooed face and his pink hair, and deemed him a troublemaker who will only drag their sweet daughter into the gutter with him. And now he even managed to accidentally knock you up, and it will just be the cherry on top!

Finally, the tears spill over, and a sob escapes your trembling lips. Instinctively, you hug yourself, but your arms get pushed away just a second later, when Sukuna is pulling you to your feet and into his strong, tattooed arms, pulling you against him, holding you so tight you find it hard to breathe.

His lips press against your forehead, leaving little kisses and murmuring against your skin,

"I am sorry for almost running out that door like a fucking coward. I'm sorry, baby."

"It's ok, Kuna. You stopped and came back. That's what counts. But... I... I am so scared."

You sniffle and press yourself against Sukuna's tall, muscular body, seeking the comfort of his broad chest and his strong arms, which feel like home, letting your tears soak Sukuna's t-shirt that smells like him, like cigarette smoke and cherry blossoms and his typical sexy cologne.

Sukuna's arms tighten around you, and he makes a choked-up sound that you have never heard from him before. You feel him gulp hard, and then he speaks up in that low, velvety voice that sounds so much more serious than ever before,

"I promise I won't run. We're in this together. I got scared, too, because I am not the dad type of guy. I don't even have any idea how a dad is supposed to be because I've never had one. I mean, fuck! I am a mess! I don't even know what I want apart from living in the moment, having fun, being with you, and spending time with my brother. But you're my girl, and I'll be damned if I leave you alone with this! I won't run, princess, I promise."

You hear a strange noise, only to realize that it is coming from your own mouth, a strangled sob. You snuggle closer against Sukuna's chest, hiding your face in his t-shirt, clinging desperately to him, overwhelmed with the situation. But he is there for you. He rests his chin on top of your head and holds you, swaying you slightly from side to side.

His low voice is calm when he asks,

"Do you want to keep it?"

"I... I didn't even have the right mind to think about it yet."

Sukuna nods, and his arms tighten around you,

"It's ok. Take your time. If you want to get rid of it, then I will drive you to the hospital and take care of you afterward. And if you decide to have the baby... then I will be a dad. I never imagined myself with a kid, but this is different. This is our baby. And I know what it's like to grow up without parents. I don't want that for my child. My grandpa did a pretty good job with Yuuji and me before he became sick, but it's not the same as having a mom and a dad, I think. I won't let that happen to our kid."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling a huge weight leave your shoulders at Sukuna's reassurance. You can see things a bit clearer now. And maybe it's not as hopeless as you thought.

Technically, you are old enough to be a mom, and you could just pause your studies for a semester or two and then return to your classes. Of course, things won't be as carefree anymore, and you will have a huge responsibility. On top of that, you really have no idea what life with a baby will be like. But you know now that you won't be alone with it.

You will have the boy you love by your side. No, you correct yourself, not the boy you love, but the man you love. Because the way Sukuna reacted so maturely and responsibly showed you that he isn't a boy anymore. He is a man. Your man. And you are even beginning to be able to imagine him as a dad. He is doing a pretty decent job as Yuuji's brother, too, after all, isn't he? Sure, Yuuji is the same age as Sukuna, but Sukuna still always acts like the big brother. So protective and caring, in a grumpy way, but sweet nonetheless.

Suddenly, the thought of a miniature version of Sukuna running around doesn't seem so scary anymore. You catch yourself wondering what your baby would look like if you decide to have it. Will it have Sukuna's eyes?

You lift your head to look up at him, and Sukuna's gaze meets yours. He looks deeply into your eyes, almost making you nervous with how intense those beautiful maroon eyes look at you,

"If you want to keep it, I will make damn sure you and the kid have it good. I promise you, princess. I am not going to run like some loser. I will learn everything about taking care of a child and how to be a dad and get my shit together. I will even stop smoking. I just... I love you, and this will be our little family, and I will fucking protect it with my life! We will make this work. We can move in together. We can ask Yuuji to babysit, and I can take the little gremlin to classes with me. I had someone do that in my history class, you know? Had his ugly little brat in a baby carrier. I could do that, too. Only difference is that our baby will be super pretty, of course."

You chuckle softly despite the shock, a mix of a sob and a laugh, feeling lighter now that you know your boyfriend will be there for you.

"I love you too, Sukuna. Thank you."

"No need to thank me. We will get through this together, no matter what you decide."

You snuggle against Sukuna's tall, muscular body and smile shakily up at him, sure that your pupils must have transformed into little hearts from the way your chest feels as if it's overflowing with love for your boyfriend. Your arrogant, rude, bad boy of a boyfriend, who, deep down, is such a good guy for the people he loves.

You smile and get on your tiptoes to press a kiss to Sukuna's tattooed jaw, a tender lingering touch, before you tell him softly,

"Let's sleep over it for a night or two, and then we'll decide what to do. But either way, I want you to know that you sound like you would be an amazing dad. I guess having your baby would be quite nice."

You can see Sukuna's gaze soften, and then he smirks that attractive smirk at you and pulls you even closer against him, leaning down so his lips brush over yours when he says,

"Let's see if you will still say that when the little brat turns out to be anything like me. I wasn't an easy child."

And you laugh and reach up to ruffle Sukuna's pink hair affectionately, tangling your fingers in the soft, pink strands,

"Well, how lucky that I have you by my side to look after Sukuna Number 2 then."

You feel Sukuna grin against your lips, and then he kisses you, slow and tender, and you practically melt against him.

You are still nervous but not as scared anymore. Sukuna is right: You are going to do this together. No matter what, you have Sukuna by your side. And, even though he doesn't look like it, your bad boy is actually a good man.

And maybe your decision is already made because the mental image of Sukuna going to class with a baby carrier strapped to his broad chest just won't leave your mind anymore.

SIGHHHHHH I think I would want his baby 😭

Thank you so much for reading! I love the mess that CollegeBoy!Sukuna is. He is very dear to me 💗 I am so proud of him for being so mature about this!! A good man and a good soon-to-be daddy.

In my head, I was singing "Papa, don't preach" the whole time while writing this ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

Update: Part 2 Option A (Reader has an abortion) Part 2 Option B (Reader decides to have the baby)

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #ryomen sukuna #tw pregnancy

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all4yoi · 3 months ago

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𝒯he 𝒟addy 𝒟iaries

!? . . ★ 𝓕inding 𝓞ut — the moment they find out you're pregnant and how they react.

➹ enhypen hyungline x fem!reader ✦ cw: pregnancy, suggestive themes (sex mentioned), crying, slight angst, fluff, cringe cringe PLSS IDK let me redeem myself to the upcoming prompts.. not proofread!!

✦ taglist: open! send an ask — SERIES MASTERLIST

LEE HEESEUNG

It was practically like a tradition ever since you married Heeseung, that you would take a pregnancy test every month. It's not like you two were trying really hard to have a baby, if it turns out negative then that's that, and if it's positive, then..

Actually the thought of being pregnant was starting to be impossible for you. It has been 8 months since you've been married and all those tests turned negative. So, now that you look at the test with two lines, you stand in shock.

"Baby? You've been in there for a while." Your husband's voice comes from the other side of the closed bathroom door. Taking the test in your hand, you open the door to be met with Heeseung's towering figure.

He looks at you in confusion, his gaze averting from your face to the test on your hands. His eyes widens a bit, shakily taking the test from you. When he sees the two lines, he lets out a happy laugh, embracing you.

"You're pregnant?!" He exclaims in joy, pulling away but keeping you close. You nod with a smile as small happy tears form in your tear ducts. "Oh baby, I love you so much. Thank you." Heeseung says with a crack, his own tears flowing down his cheeks.

PARK JONGSEONG

"I think we should go see a doctor, baby." Jay says in worry as he rubs your back while you're hunched over the toilet and pour your guts out. You shake your head, wiping your mouth as you sit back up.

"I think it's the chicken last night we ordered." You say weakly and openly welcome Jay's embrace.

"If it were, then I'd be pouring my guts out every morning too baby." He sighs, helping you up your feet and helping you in brushing your teeth. "I'm texting Dr. Choi right now, go change okay? I'm getting you checked." Jay kissed your temple before exiting the bathroom, leaving no room for arguments.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, you still weren't feeling good and Jay was too worried to disturb your moment of peace.

"Sorry for the question, but are you two sexually active?" Dr. Choi asked. You look confused but nod nonetheless. "Yes, but it has been weeks since we last had sex."

Dr. Choi nods, "I see, in the urine sample we tested, it detected hCG which means you're pregnant for 6 weeks Mrs. Park. We can discuss your next steps when you're ready."

You exhale heavily, looking up at Jay who was beside you.

"Jay.." said man embraces you gently, nodding at the doctor who now left the room. "We can do whatever you want baby, choice is all yours. I love you no matter what your decision will be."

SIM JAEYUN

"This is ridiculous." You mutter as you wait for the pregnancy test. Currently, your girl friends were over at your apartment for a girls night out and they decided it was a fun idea to have you use the pregnancy test that Ningning found in her older sister's drawer.

When your phone alarms signaling the end of the 5 minutes, you flip the pregnancy test without a care, but the words "Pregnant" on it makes you freeze.

Ningning and Karina bursts inside the bathroom after hearing the alarm but their smiles drop as soon as they see your red eyes. "Y/N.."

You shook your head, fisting your hair in your hands. "No, my parents will kill me. Jake can't know." You cry and your friends embrace you.

"Atleast let Jake know.. he deserves to know too you know?" Karina mutters, brushing the strands of your hair out of your face. "No, no.." You cry harder.

You were too busy crying and your friends comforting you that no one noticed the footsteps coming in the room.

"Hey, what's happening?" Jake's voice makes your sobs halt.

"Um, we'll uh, we'll leave you two to talk." Ningning says as she pats your back before leaving the room with Karina.

Jake's brows furrows at your state before he approaches you slowly, bringing you to his chest and resting his cheek on the top of your head. "Shh, you're fine now. What happened while I was gone, lovely?"

Your silence worries him even more but when his gaze averts to the sink counter and sees the pregnancy test, he squeezes you tighter. His own tears forming on his eyes.

"I got you, 'm not going anywhere. Shh."

PARK SUNGHOON

"Whatever it shows, you know I'll still love you right?" Sunghoon whispers as he gazes at you with full of love. You and Sunghoon have been married for 2 years now and have been trying for a baby for almost a year.

All tests turned negative and you were starting to think that you were the problem. You promised yourself that if this test turns negative once more, you'll finally visit the doctor for tests.

"You turn it." You shakily whisper, keeping yourself buried on your husband's bare chest. Sunghoon does as he's told and turns the test around with shaking fingers. The sight of two lines makes him breath out shakily.

"Oh my God, baby." He says as he hugs you tight, tears flowing down and wetting your shoulder. His reaction tells you everything and you laugh in joy while your own tears cascades down your cheeks.

Sunghoon kisses you, pouring all his love in the kiss while your tears mixes with his. When he pulls away, he keeps your foreheads connected, his lips pulled in a big smile.

"I love you, we did it baby."

taglist! ( bold can't be tagged )— @stawberri @saphiranishimurashan @strxwbloody @heesexual74 @jooniesbears-blog @ayablogsblog @teddybeartaetae @gandaengene @snowprincehoon

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wwooyology · 9 months ago

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Late Night Rendezvous | P.SH

「pairing」 : bf!sunghoon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.9k

「synopsis」 : you knew your boyfriend was a very busy man; he was the 'friendly neighborhood spiderman' after all. though you did tend to get annoyed when his superhero life got in the way of his personal life, especially when you had plans for the two of you. sunghoon also wasn't a very big fan of leaving you alone, but he didn't really have a choice. this always leads to arguments; this time, though, sunghoon had enough.

「genre」 : smut, a tinge of angst, fluff at the end, marvel au, spiderman!sunghoon

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, arguments, mentions of blood and fighting, mean dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, degradation, petnames (princess, baby, sweetheart, {some are hidden for surprise}), unprotected sex, choking, slight breath play, teasing, oral (f. receiving), making out, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, fingering, pussy slapping, manhandling, cum eating, slight cockwarming, cervix fucking, overstimulation, slight clit play, multiple orgasms, biting/marking, derogatory names (slut, bitch...), spitting, bondage, implications of multiple rounds, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : this wasn't what I had originally planned for bec's (@yeonzzzn) bday but I wasn't able to finish the other one in time, but I feel like you'll enjoy this one just as much!! happy birthday wifey!! 🖤 I hope you have the best day ever and enjoy it to the fullest!! I love you sm and I hope you enjoy this!!

The bells around campus rang, signaling the end of your classes, so you quickly hopped out of your seat, hoping to run into your boyfriend before he ran off to his next class. Rushing down the halls, you managed to maneuver through all of the other students without running into very many, apologizing when you did.

As soon as you got closer to Sunghoon’s locker, you saw him grabbing a few things while talking to Seonghwa, your senior, who also happened to be your friend.

With a wide smile, you walked over slowly, trying your best to stay undetected, signaling for Seonghwa to stay quiet when he noticed you walking up. When you got within arms' reach, you went to grab his arm. However, in the blink of an eye, Sunghoon had you pinned to the lockers that sat off to the side, hand holding yours next to your head.

“You aren’t slick princess.” He chuckled as he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your cheek before releasing his hold and moving away.

“You’re no fun, Hoon.” You pouted as you pushed off of the lockers, crossing your arms over your chest, causing both of the males to start laughing at your antics. Your eyes narrowed into slits, glaring at the both of them before turning to start walking off, “Fine, I’m leaving.”

“Baby, wait.” Sunghoon laughed, reaching out to grab your arm and pull you back towards him.

Rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around his torso, soaking in his warmth. The two boys then started talking about their classes once again, and you just listened, not really caring to chime in.

Then Sunghoon’s body tensed under your hold, his head swiveling around to inspect the area around the three of you. Looking up, you saw the alarm on his face, and you knew something was wrong.

“Gotta go?” you asked, and he looked down at you with an apologetic gleam in his eyes. " Go save the city, Spider-Man,” you whispered softly as he leaned down to peck your lips.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He promised as he turned to rush out of the door of the university building.

You stood there for a moment, your lips curled inward as you fought with your inner dialogue. Sunghoon had said the same thing countless times, and more than half of those times, he never showed up at your apartment. Though there was a small hope that he would come, you knew deep down that he probably wouldn’t be there.

Noticing your troubled look, Seonghwa walked over and placed a hand on your shoulder. " He’s not gonna show up, is he?”

“Probably not.” You shook your head, lips pulling into a tight smile. Letting out a huff, you fixed your bag before turning and walking down the hall towards your next class, trying not to dwell on it too much.

It was nearing two in the morning, and there was still no sign of your boyfriend. You were perched on your couch with a half-eaten bowl of popcorn, watching the new movie that you were supposed to watch with Sunghoon. However, after waiting so long, you just said screw it and started the movie anyways.

Annoyed wouldn’t even be the word that you would use to describe how you were feeling right now. No, more like pissed and hurt; those would be better words to use.

Normally, by this time, you would have gotten a message with some excuse from Sunghoon as to why he couldn’t make it before telling you to get some rest and that he would see you the next day. This time, though, you had gotten absolutely nothing from the dark-haired male. In fact, your phone had been dry for the last four or five hours. The only notifications you received were from the stupid games that you had downloaded to pass the time.

Ping

The noise almost made you jump out of your skin, seeing as the room had been almost silent. Letting out a shaky breath, you tried to calm your erratic heart before reaching forward to grab the device that lay on the table in front of you.

Turning the screen on, you just saw an email from one of your project partners for chem sending their part. Groaning, you threw your phone off to the side, not caring that it fell between the cushions before standing to take the bowl back into the kitchen.

You tried not to let the whole thing annoy you further as you started washing the dishes, letting the sound of running water calm your nerves a bit. Then you heard a soft click, causing your body to go rigid. Turning the water off, you looked over your shoulder, looking into the living room. However, there was no sign of anyone there.

Drying your hands off, you walked over to your front door to make sure that it was locked, and it was. Eyebrows furrowing, you just shook your head, blaming it on being so late and that you were tired.

“I’m probably just hearing things,” You grumbled as you walked back into the kitchen, your bare feet making soft footsteps sounds on the old creaky floorboards.

Your heart nearly stopped as a hand wrapped around your mouth, muffling the scream that escaped from your lungs. Fear started to fill your veins, thinking that one of those villains that Sunghoon had warned you about had finally found you, but then his scent wafted around you, easing your mind.

“It’s just me, princess,” His voice was low and hoarse, a tell-tale sign that he had been yelling.

Shrugging out of his hold, you shoved him back, anger flaring once more as you turned to look at him with a glare. There he stood in a pair of sweatpants, and a hoodie with the hood pulled over his head, but what really caught your attention was his busted lip and bruise on his jaw. Even if you were utterly and completely pissed, you could help but worry if he was okay.

“What the fuck, Sunghoon?” You exclaimed, hands slapping against the bare skin of your thighs. “First, you just completely disappear off the face of the earth, then you come in here unannounced and scare the shit outta me?”

Sunghoon looked at you with an apologetic expression, ready to reach out and comfort you, but you just took a half step back. His eyebrows scrunched together, confused as to why you were so angry. He knew you didn’t take being scared that lightly, but he had never seen you get this upset over a little scare.

“Where have you been?” Your tone was harsh, arms crossing over your chest, unknowingly pushing your boobs up. Sunghoon’s eyes flickered down before looking up to meet yours once more.

“The robbery escalated, so I got stuck there longer than I was supposed to.” He started to explain, watching as your eyebrow raised, a sign for him to continue, “Then, Mister Stark wanted to train with some new tech that he got.”

Your eye started to switch slightly as your glare hardened, “And that took until damn near three in the morning?” Sunghoon opened his mouth to respond, but you stopped him by pointing your finger in his direction, “Not to mention we had plans; did you just forget about those? Just like you forgot to even send me a fucking message?”

Sunghoon’s own irritation started to rise the longer you started to shout at him for something he didn’t have full control over. He took a step towards you again, only to have you step back and keep space between the two of you.

“Dammit, y/n, I didn’t have a choice!” He exclaimed, the tone of his voice causing you to jump slightly, “Do you think I wanted to leave you alone when I was supposed to be here with you? Do you think I want to go and fight off some fucking lowlifes all of the damn time?” With every step he took towards you, you took one back until your back met the kitchen counter. “Is that what you really think?”

You scowled, fingers gripping the countertop, “doesn’t excuse the fact that this isn’t the first time you’ve done this.” You hissed, going to move away from him, not wanting to be anywhere in his vicinity right now, “I’m going to bed; you know your way out.”

Those were the words that set Sunghoon off, his hand wrapping around your bicep, pulling you back between his body and the kitchen counter. His face was merely inches away from yours, his warm breath fanning over your lips and chin. You met his glare with one of your own, not daring to back down.

“Lose the fucking attitude and talk to me like a normal person.” He growled, the action causing his upper lip to twitch, showing the point of his canines.

You felt your body start to grow warm, and you cursed yourself for getting turned on despite the current situation. Your knuckles turned a ghostly shade of white the tighter you held onto the countertop, eyes still on your boyfriend.

“Lose my attitude? Why don’t you learn to be on time, and I might.” You seethed, going to move once more, hoping to just escape to your room before you fell under his touch.

Sunghoon wasn’t stupid. He could see the switch in your demeanor, “Oh, so you wanna be a brat now?” Then, just like before, he trapped your body with his against the countertop, his hand encasing your throat this time, squeezing lightly.

“Hoon…” You whimper in his hold as his knee finds its way between your legs, pressing right against your core.

“I was going to surprise you, and we could watch that movie before I fucked you nice and slow, but now?” His grip on your throat tightened, causing a small pitiful squeak to fall from your lips, eyes starting to water due to the lack of oxygen, “oh sweetheart, you're getting everything but slow, and you lost the chances of me being nice.”

Your mind started to run thinking about all of the different things that he could have done, but it was too late now. The pressure that was building up between your legs was starting to become overwhelming, but you couldn’t close your thighs thanks to Sunghoon’s knee being in the way.

“I’m sorry-” You blinked back tears, wrapping your hand around his wrist and eyes glancing up at him.

Sunghoon gave you a mocking pout, head tilting slightly as he looked down at you, annoyance still burning brightly in his chocolate orbs.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that baby?” He cooed, letting up his grip on your neck for a moment, allowing you to breathe properly for the time being. Sunghoon’s eyes danced across your face, taking in your teary eyes and flushed cheeks. One of his favorite looks on you, really, so helpless and needy.

He pressed his knee further against your core, causing a choked moan to fall from your parted lips. Then his lips were on yours, stealing the air from your lungs. The kiss was rough and mean as he bit at your bottom lip, eliciting a whine from your mouth.

His hand then left your neck and found the backs of your thighs, hoisting you onto the countertop. Lips moved from yours down your jaw before finding purchase on your neck, hands wandering over your torso. A breathy moan fell from your lips when his fingers touched the inside of your thigh, nails scraping against the skin.

He then moves down your body, hands pulling at your clothes and tugging the fabric off of your body with ease. Leaving your top half completely bare to his burning gaze, lip pulled between his teeth.

“Hoon–”

“Shut up, I don’t wanna hear another pathetic excuse from you.” He growled, slotting his body between your spread legs once more. Your teary eyes met his, seeing the lust and anger pooling in his dark eyes. There was no way you were going to be able to talk your way out of this one, not that you really wanted to anyway.

His lips then find yours again, his pace almost too fast for you to keep up with. A gasp then fell from your parted lips when his hand encased your boob, squeezing harshly. He continued to toy and pinch your mounds until your body was trembling, hand gripping his jacket with a vice-like grip.

Not saying a word, Sunghoon moved from your lips down to your neck before nipping at your collarbone. You whined at the pain, the skin tingling.

Sunghoon watched you with a dark gaze, his lips trailing down the valley of your breast before stopping at the hem of your sleep shorts. Wrapping his fingers around the band, he prompted you to lift your hips. He pulled the fabric off of your body along with your underwear, leaving your body completely bare to him.

You opened your mouth to say something to him, but with a sharp glare from the dark-haired male, you closed it. Your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth, watching as he moved further down, his hands spreading your thighs even further until your dripping cunt was completely open to him.

“Well, would you look at that, dripping like a bitch in heat.” He scoffed, running his cool fingers through your folds, collecting your slick on his digits. The feeling makes you whine, hands gripping the edge of the countertop.

Then his warm breath washed over your pussy, causing your walls to clench around nothing. Your hands then move to grab his hair, but Sunghoon is quicker. Grabbing your hand and standing to his feet once more.

He then grabs your other hand, pinning it to the cabinet above your head. The white web-like substance bound your wrists together and to the cabinet, preventing you from moving them.

“Hoon.” You whined, tugging against the webs, but it was no use. They weren’t going to budge. Sunghoon just moved his hand away from yours before finding your hips and tugging you toward the edge, eliciting a yelp from your swollen lips.

“Only good girls get to use their hands, but you…” He crouched down in front of your drenched cunt, he then delivered a sharp slap straight to your clit. A sharp moan tore through your throat, tears stinging your eyes. “You’ve been nothing but a bitch.”

You opened your mouth to apologize but were cut off when he delivered another slap to your clit. Tears started to fall down your flushed cheeks, the pain mixed with pleasure making your mind reel.

Sunghoon slapped your puffy clit once more before diving right into your folds, his lips wrapping around your bundle of nerves. The sudden change in action had you sitting there completely breathless, back arching, causing your shoulders to strain from the angle they were held in. Choked moans and sobs fell from your kiss-swollen lips, begging him to slow down.

However, he doesn’t listen; if anything, your pleas only spur him on. Sucking on your clit harshly before kitten-licking it, causing your entire body to shudder. Then his fingers were tracing your slit, teasing you further.

“Hoon–” A squeak cut you off as he harshly sucked on your clit, almost as a warning.

Your whole body felt as if it were burning, all of your nerves being set aflame as Sunghoon’s mouth worked on your cunt, bringing you so much pleasure and pain all at once. It was making your brain fuzzy, incoherent babbles falling from your parted lips as your head fell back, back arching, pushing your cunt further into his face causing him to growl lowly. The vibration reverberates all throughout your body, eliciting a moan from deep within your lungs.

His free hand moved to grab your hip, pushing you back and keeping you there, which only causes you to whine. Your jaw fell slack as he pushed his middle and ring fingers into your soaping pussy, rubbing your velvet walls slowly. The drastic difference in the paces of his mouth and fingers left you gasping for air, nails digging into the palm of your hand.

“Fuck, Hoonie, please!” You cried out, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, only needing just a little push to tip over the edge. Your legs started to tremble around his head, threatening to close at any moment, but he was quick to clock it. His fingers dug into the fat of your thigh, keeping it in place while he continued to devour you.

Sunghoon could tell you were close with the way your walls were squeezing him so desperately. His dark eyes then peer up at you, watching as you completely fall apart on his fingers. His name fell from your lips like a chant as he continued to work you through your high, lapping up all of your juices, not leaving a drop.

“H-Hoon–” Your words got caught in your throat as he found your sweet spot, eyes rolling to the back of your head when his pace didn’t relent.

Sunghoon pulled his face away from your clit, watching as your body trembled because of his continuous assault on your sensitive cunt. Eyes soaking in every inch of skin that was exposed to him, the dull lights on your kitchen bouncing off of your sweat, making it look as if your body was glowing. Then he met your hooded gaze, your lips caught between your teeth as you watched him continue to fuck his fingers into your dripping cunt.

Without slowing his pace he stood to his feet, using his free hand to cup your face, thumb pulling your lips away from your teeth. Soft pants and whines fell from your now parted lips as you leaned into his touch, the sounds soon swallowed by Sunghoon as he kissed you.

The kiss was nothing short of wet and messy, as you were too far gone in the pleasure to even remotely think about kissing him back properly. A mixture of yours and his saliva coated both of your chins, a small string connecting the two of you as Sunghoon pulled away.

“Come on, bunny, give me another one.” He chuckled as you rolled your hips in time with his fingers, already feeling another orgasm on the tip of your tongue.

Watching as your jaw fell slack, Sunghoon suddenly got an idea, reaching out with his free hand. He took a hold of your face, squishing your cheeks. Your dazed gaze caught his dark one as he leaned closer to you, collecting a ball of saliva in his mouth before spitting it into yours.

“Swallow it.” He demanded, not releasing his hold until he felt you swallow under his fingertips. “Such a nasty slut, who knew you were into dirty things, huh?” He berated you, not missing the way your walls were clenching around his fingers.

You mewled at his words, words completely lost to you, when his thumb made contact with your puffy clit, circling the bud in tight circles. Choked moans slipped past your parted lips when you felt the coil in your stomach snap for a second time, creaming all over Sunghoon’s fingers.

“F-Fuck!” You cried out as he worked you through your high, tears streaming down your cheeks before meeting Sunghoon’s fingers that still had a light hold on your face.

Sunghoon then pulled his fingers from your spasming cunt, watching as your walls continued to clench around nothing. Your chest heaved as you tried to regain your senses, but as you watched your boyfriend bring his finger to his mouth to clean them, your mind short-circuited once more.

Humming at the sweet taste of you once more he made sure that not a drop was left. He then reached above you for your hands, tearing the webs off and allowing your arms to drop into his. You let out a sigh as your tense muscles relaxed, leaning against Sunghoon’s firm chest.

Chuckling darkly, he ran his finger through your hair, stopping at the crown of your head and yanking your head back. A yelp of surprise escaped from your lips, and teary eyes gazed up at him as he smirked down at you.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?” He growled, bringing his face closer to yours, loving the way that your eyes grow wide. A smirk tugs on the corner of his lips as he releases his hold on your hair, then within a blink of an eye, you are lifted off of the counter, legs wrapping around Sunghoon's waist.

Your whines flow right into his ears as he continues to whisper nasty things in your ear. Making his way into the living room he sits down with you in his lap.

You pull away from his neck, eyes wide with curiosity. Utterly confused with what he was doing, his fingertips danced along the skin of your thigh.

Noticing your expression, he smirked before bucking his hips up into yours, eliciting a sharp moan from your pretty lips. Your fingers ball the fabric of his hoodie into your palms.

“Here's the deal, bunny,” He whispered, lips dangerously close to yours. “You're gonna make yourself useful and ride me, but–” He barely got the words out before you made a small noise of agreement, tugging at his clothes to get them off.

Sunghoon just watched in amusement as you pried his hoodie off of his body, leaving his torso completely bare. You ran your fingers down his chest and abdomen, nails scraping the skin, causing him to hiss, hips bucking up into you once more.

Just as you reached the waistband of his sweats, he grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. Looking up, you met his gleaming eyes, a shiver running down your spine.

“You even think about teasing. I will make sure you won't cum at all tonight.” His tone was deep, his chest vibrating under your touch with each word. You knew that he meant what he had said, and as much as you wanted to act like a brat for a little longer, you wanted him to make you cum way more.

Curling your lips inward, you nod your head, fingers wrapping around the waistband of his sweat once more. Pulling them down, you released his aching cock, the tip red and angry. Precum smeared all over the head, the light gleaming off of it making your mouth water.

Wrapping your fingers around him, you started moving slowly, listening to his breathy groans, his hips bucking upward despite your weight on his lap. A loud hiss broke through his teeth as you pressed your thumb against his slit, smearing more precum all over the place. Glancing up, you were met with Sunghoon's burning gaze, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

You relished in the way his eyes bore into you, an unspoken warning that you so desperately wanted to overstep. However, you knew better, so with one last pump of his cock you stood on your knees, lining up his dick with your dripping cunt before slowly starting to sink down.

Sunghoon watched with a hooded gaze as you continued to lower yourself onto him, but he was getting impatient. So he grabbed your hips and pulled you flush against him; the action pulled a high-pitched moan from your lips, eyes rolling back as your nails dug into his forearms.

He gave you just a second before he started moving your hips to rock against him. Leaning forward, he captures your lips with his, swallowing all of the whines you were making.

“Now be a good little pet and ride me, but if you stop.” He nipped at your bottom lip, drinking in the needy moans you were making, “You won't be coming at all.”

You nodded desperately, your mind already going fuzzy with the way he was hitting all of the right spots. Satisfied with your answer, he leaned away from your body, hands falling away from your hips, allowing you to move freely.

“H-Hoon– fuck!” You cried out, not caring how pathetic you sounded; there were little to no coherent thoughts in your mind right now. They all dissipated with each drag of his cock along your gummy walls.

Sunghoon didn't say a word, watching you with his lip caught between his teeth, the skin threatening to break at any moment.

Your hands found purchase on his chest, nails digging into the skin as your pace picked up. Thighs burning and trembling under the intense pleasure, but you'd be damned if you stopped.

The sounds of your moans and the wet squelching from your cunt filled the room, ringing embarrassingly loud in your ears. You were sure that the neighbors could hear you if they listened closely enough. The thought, however, only spurred you on, grinding down on Sunghoon with a renowned fever, desperate to make him cum.

“Look at you…” He reached out, cupping your boob in his hand, squeezing harshly, causing your movements to falter slightly, mind reeling from his touch. “You really are just a bitch in heat, so desperate to make me cum.” He chuckled but was quickly cut off by a groan as your walls squeezed around him. “Fuck! You want my cum so badly, don't you, princess?”

You whined, nodding your head like a broken bobblehead, wanting nothing more than for him to spill his seed deep into your womb.

He smiled sinisterly before grabbing your hip with a vice-like grip, flipping your body around so your back was pressed against the couch cushions. Without missing a beat, he threw your right leg over his shoulder, plowing into you like there was no tomorrow.

The sudden change in pace and position left you gasping for air, fingers digging into the back of Sunghoon’s neck when he bent down to latch his lips to your neck once more.

“Don't worry, your pretty little head; I'll give you my cum.” He growled as he felt his high approaching, your walls hugging him so deliciously. “I'll breed you like the little pet you are, fill you nice and full.” Your vision flashes white as his thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing harsh circles on it. “Fill you so full that, who knows, maybe you'll get pregnant– fuck!” He cursed as he felt your walls flutter around him, signaling your impending high, “you'd like that, wouldn't you, carrying my baby…”

His words were just adding fuel to the raging fire in your gut, the little coil so close to snapping, just needing one final push.

Then those few words fell from his lips, leaving you lying there seeing stars.

“You'd look so pretty carrying my babies.” He huffed out, thrusts faltering as your high crashed over you, legs trembling under Sunghoon's hold.

This was a sight that he would never get tired of seeing; you completely ruined his dick.

“Fuck look at you, my pretty little slut.” He reached down, encasing your throat once more before bringing his lips to yours, sealing them in a sloppy kiss as he pumped his seed deep into your womb, purposely pressing against your cervix to make sure it stuck.

He continued to roll his hips into you until he was drained and completely dry, face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as you came down from your high chest, heaving under him.

After a few moments of silence, he raised his head to look at you, his movements prompting you to open your eyes. Glancing up at him, you raised your hand to his bruised cheek, thumb gently brushing over it.

Sunghoon's eyes flutter shut, soaking in your warmth before speaking softly.

“I’m sorry for showing up so late and not messaging you.” He opened his eyes to peer down at you, watching as your eyes flickered all over his face.

“It's okay, Hoon, and I'm sorry for snapping.” You apologized as well, your bottom lip jutting out into a small pout, causing the dark-haired male to laugh.

“I love you, princess,” He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, which you quickly recuperated, cupping his jaw in your still shaky hand.

After a few moments, the two of you pull apart to catch your breath, eyes still locked on each other. You brush your thumb over his bottom lip softly, scared that you might open the healing cut.

“I love you too, Hoonie.” You offered him a small smile, to which he returned before pressing a kiss on your thumb.

“Did you still wanna watch that movie?” He asked, fingers rubbing soothing circles on your hip, relishing in your warmth as he was still buried deep in your cunt.

You laugh softly before muttering a ‘meh,’ which causes him to chuckle and shake his head, but then he has another thought—one he was sure you wouldn't turn down.

“How about a warm bath then?” He watched in amusement as your eyes lit up, and you agreed seconds later.

“A bath sounds amazing.” You lean up to peck his lips before releasing your hold so he can move the both of you to the bathroom to enjoy that bath and maybe get another round or two in…

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪ�� ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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abbotsanatomy · 21 days ago

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okay hi!! jack request. i’m thinking about him getting jealous and territorial over someone he knows he has no right to get so riled up about 👀 a forbidden / situationship kind of romance x jealous jack would be so fun. i love the angst if you can’t tell haha

⨳ SEEING GREEN

pairing: jack abbot x chief resident!reader warnings: age gap (28 and 49), resident/attending relationship, power imbalances, workplace situationship, awkward jealousy, angst :(. author's note: this came out a little angstier than expected, forgive me!

Anyone who works the ER night shift knows it's very common to get flirted with on the job. More drunks, less serious injuries, and the inherent attraction patients have for their doctors. It's the holy trinity for inappropriate ER flirtation. You've become used to it. It's why you aren't too bothered when it's a patient you're actually attracted to flirting with you.

Male, mid-30s, third-degree burn injury on his arm, and you've totally met him before. You just can't remember where.

His hair’s a dirty blonde, he’s got a Pitt University hoodie on, with the sleeves pulled up to reveal his injury. This guy’s the kind of pretty anyone would fawn over.

However, he’s got pretty bad luck, because right now he's in an ER chair, with you and nurse Gloria flitting around the room, hooking him up with IV fluids and prophylactic antibiotics.

“You come here often?” he jokes, trying to hold his arm up.

You smile courteously, nodding in his direction.

“Unfortunately,” you respond.

You have to ask for his name to proceed with care, but you don't want to seem like a moron for forgetting it.

If you could just remember...

“Oh. You're Matt. From the dog park, last year?” you almost yell, turning to face him fully.

Matt is one of the many, many flings you've had in the last few years. You'd met him at a dog park, when you were dog-sitting for a friend. He'd asked for your number, and you'd gone on a few very nice dates. It fizzled out eventually, like they always do.

It's totally because you work night shifts and you're way too busy for dating. Totally not because you have a huge, fat, world-ending crush on your attending. The very same attending you seem to be in a push-pull situationship with.

Matt's grinning awkwardly, looking down at the ground, “Ouch. You couldn't remember me?”

“I'm sorry. I've slept exactly three hours in the last two days. I can barely remember my own name,” you explain, pulling a crash cart close.

He closes an eye tight and tilts his head to one side like he's thinking really hard. “Oh, yeah. What was it, by the way?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” you deadpan.

You break out into a fit of laughter the moment he does. You can sense Gloria side-eyeing you both. So, you clear your throat to remind him and yourself that you are still in an ER.

“So, how'd this happen, Matt?” you ask.

“I was making a late night cup of tea. Can't sleep, y'know,” he narrates, and you nod in understanding. “Then the water from the kettle fell on my arm, and I came rushing so I wouldn't lose it.”

You chuckle at that, “You won't be losing it. We're just going to have to remove all of the dead skin surrounding the wound so it heals well.”

“Do you feel any pain?”

“No, it stopped hurting a little after it happened,” he tells you.

His eyes are no longer focused on you, though. Instead, they've drifted to someone else outside of the little curtained cubicle you're occupying. You instinctively turn around to be met with none other than the very same man who's been interrupting your romantic endeavors for years.

“Doctor Abbot,” you greet, even though you've already seen him many times tonight.

Jack just nods. It's a little off, but you won't comment on that. He doesn't have to become miraculously happy every time he sees you, even though he usually is.

“This is my attending. Dr.Jack Abbot, one of our finest,” you introduce, turning back towards Matt.

Jack crosses his arms over his chest. He smiles at the patient, but it's a tight, imperceptible thing. There's a palpable tension in the air.

Proceeding with care is probably your best option in this situation. So, you pull the top drawer of the crash cart open. You're sliding your nitrile gloves on when Jack stops you.

“Present the case,” he demands, saying your last name in a way that sends a thrill down your spine. He isn't even looking your way, his eyes are dead set on Matt.

Is he serious? you ask yourself.

It doesn't make any sense. You're a senior resident. This is a case way below your skill level. He knows this. You know this.

So, you just stare at him for a long beat. You almost forget Matt's even there, until he clears his throat loudly. It pulls you back to reality.

“Um, alright,” you surrender.

“Matthew Morgan, thirty-seven. He just has a third-degree burn on his arm.”

Obviously, you almost say.

Jack walks over to assess the IV you have set up, “What do you have him hooked up with?”

It's such a trivial question, you're offended to even be asked it. Doctor Abbot isn't only your supervisor, he's also someone you respect deeply. So, you won't argue with him here. You're saving that for later.

“Electrolytes, and antibiotics.”

He nods, and he's still staring daggers into Matt. It's almost turned into this weird power play where he's trying to show this guy you'll answer whatever question he asks, you'll do whatever he wants. He's staking his claim over you.

Suddenly, it feels like the room's gotten a lot hotter. You can feel the fluorescent light of the ER beat down harder on your face. When you finally find your voice again, it's slightly angrier than usual.

“And we were just about to proceed with debridement.”

“Perfect. Wouldn't you rather the new intern try it out for the first time?” he's asking it like a question, but his tone leaves no room for argument. Not right now, anyway.

“I could oversee,” he offers. “Doctor Shen's about to perform an emergency thoracotomy for a lobectomy, if you'd like to go help out.”

The last time you heard of a procedure so intricate happening during the night shift at PTMC, you were probably a second-year resident. It's the most excitement the night shift's had in a very long time. Of course you want to help out. He knows you do.

It's no surprise when you shoot Matt an apologetic smile and tell him Jack and the new intern, Sarah, are going to be taking over. The moment you're out of sight, you sprint to trauma room two.

You're not sure whether you should thank Abbot or murder him.

The hinges on your locker creak as you pull it open to grab your things and finally head home. You're about to grab your jacket, when you spot Jack heading into the bathroom. The one with the broken lock.

Before you can even think twice about this totally horrible decision, you've already infiltrated the bathroom. Thankfully, when you look up, he's just washing his hands.

“This bathroom's clearly not empty,” he informs you, still washing his hands.

You nod and walk to stand closer to him.

“Yeah. I know.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, but he's smiling at you through the mirror.

“I just wanted to give you a taste of how intrusive it feels to have you micromanaging my cases,” you cross your arms in over-exaggerated disapproval.

“I mean, that's not even your job.” You hope that drives the point home.

Jack turns around, and there's about five inches in between you now. He's maintaining so much eye contact, that your eyes start going back and forth between his and the dirty, tiled floor.

“You mean assigning you cases? That's absolutely my job,” he reasons, wiping his hands down with the tissue.

“That's not what that was. I don't even know what the hell that was back there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you want me presenting the case one minute, and then you want me off of it completely the next. So, forgive me if I'm a little confused.”

Jack turns away to throw the paper towel into the trash can, letting it fall closed with a loud clang.

“What exactly is it you're confused about?”

You just blink at him for a long moment. He genuinely has no idea. You're not the one confused here. He is.

“You're not my boyfriend, Jack,” you whisper.

Jack's eyes are on the floor the moment you say it. He smiles like a man who's just realizing the tragedy in life's comedy. Your words hang in the air for a moment.

“Believe me, I know that,” he murmurs.

You shake your head in confusion, “So, what's up with you acting like you don't? You can't—”

You pause to take a breath.

“You have to know, when you do things like that. Back there. It confuses me. It fucks with my brain,” you sigh shakily.

You step back, “I can't keep doing this, Jack. I can't keep going out with guys, taking them back to my apartment, kissing them, and then having to kick them out ten minutes later.”

His eyebrows are set into a deep frown. He's putting his hands into his pocket, and just staring.

“Because every single time I do it, all I see is you. And your eyes.”

“I'm stuck,” you confess.

When the tears start falling, he moves quickly. His arms are wrapped around you in seconds, your face buried into his chest.

“It isn't fair,” your voice is muffled into the fabric of his uniform, but he understands you perfectly.

His fingers are slowly threading through your hair. You can feel his breath grow heavy on your skin. Your tears are staining his scrub top. He nods slowly.

“I know. I'm sorry,” he says, his voice raspier than usual.

He pulls your face up, with a hand on each cheek. Your eyes lock, but you can't stop crying. His thumbs gently wipe away the tears there.

“I know. It is,” he affirms.

You know it won't happen, but you wish he'd just kiss you, right here, right now. You want so badly the one thing you can't have.

#jack abbot #jack abbott #dr jack abbot #dr jack abbott #jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #dr jack abbot x reader #jack abbott fanfic #dr jack abbott x reader #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbot drabble #jack abbot imagine #the pitt #the pitt max #the pitt hbo #the pitt 2025 #the pitt show #the pitt x reader #jack abbot fluff

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 7 months ago

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Can you pretty please write something like the Nanami college au again?? It was so funnn <33 love your work!

Shibari Master

Tags: dom!nanami x fem!reader, college au, nsfw, mdni, bdsm relationship, fluff, mutual pining, slight angst, happy ending don't worry.

Synopsis: Nanami is the stoic, silent, strong type. He excels in each class he’s put in. He’s never one to cause trouble, but… there have been whispers around the university. “I hear he likes to tie girls up for fun…” “My friend says he’s a freak in bed and left marks all over her.” “Someone told me he has ropes in his dorm.” It seems like Kento has a secret.

An: You guys really seem to love the college au Nanami 😭 I don’t mind. I actually really love writing him. This isn't necessarily a sequel or part two, but I hope this is something that you were hoping for. This is another long one. Strap in.

You were the type of person who really kept to themselves while in college. So many people told you that you would meet some lifelong friends and studying in university, but you didn’t really see the point. Everyone went their separate ways after college. There was no point in befriending anyone in there.

Well, Shoko’s the exception. She’s like a sickness that you just can’t fully get rid of. No matter how closed off you were, she just continued to tease and banter with you. You two often found yourselves sitting next to each other in class or in the dining hall.

Sure, you two had fun being absolute haters together. “Oh my god, yn. Look at what he’s wearing.” Shoko would whisper into your ear, referring to the guy in the hentai face hoodie that no man who gets pussy wears.

Shoko had friends. She was close with all sorts of people: the athletes, the quiet ones, anime nerds, trouble makers, everyone. She didn’t discriminate, which means she had a lot of gossip on everyone.

You were sat next to her in the dining hall as you leisurely munched on an apple. She was yapping about some people in drama club that got caught fucking in the auditorium, “a total orgy” was how she described it.

Your mind was elsewhere though. While you weren’t keen on making friends, you weren’t immune to crushes though. A man like Nanami was right up your alley. He was quiet, respectful, the hottest man you’ve ever seen and smart.

“Girl.” Shoko nudges your arm and furrows her eyebrows at you when you’re not giving her all your attention. “You are not ogling over Kento fucking Nanami right now, are you?” Goddamn her sense of social cues. You could get nothing over her.

“And if I am?” You ask, taking another bite from your apple before turning to face her with an almost challenging look.

“My little yn is finally coming out of her shell.” Shoko grinned up at you. She could never resist picking on you a little bit. “No, but seriously, I’ve heard some crazy things about him.”

“Like what?” You immediately ask with a puzzled expression. What kind of crazy things would Nanami get up to? He seems so strait laced. It’s hard to imagine him doing anything ‘crazy’.

“I heard he likes to tie up girls for fun.”

Oh shit.

Now, as a person who had unrestricted internet access as a kid and a recovering tumblr user, you knew what BDSM was. In fact, you were pretty well acquainted with the concept. Even as it was now more widely accepted after the movie Fifty Shades of Grey (which in your opinion, missed the mark on portraying a healthy BDSM relationship), BDSM still felt a little taboo. It was like a forbidden fruit to you, one that you thought about often.

“So? A man has a kink. Be so for real right now.” You respond as you glance back over at Nanami.

“No babes, it’s not just a kink. Like… I’ve heard that he didn’t touch them like that..”

“Oh…” You almost want to fucking pout upon hearing that.

“Oh yn, you freak.” Shoko laughs as she pokes your cheek. “You totally want him to tie you up.”

“I mean…” You give her a look which makes her laugh even harder.

“Stop.” She says while still laughing. “I heard it something called like shibari…”

*** *** ***

That night instead of researching for your upcoming term paper, you spent all night on the Shibari Reddit and reading up on different forums.

It was nearly three in the morning. Your fingers are scrolling on some sort of shibari blog, and you can’t help but feel almost jealous of these people. It was like an art and BDSM activity all in one. You wanted to do that.

You wanted Nanami to do that to you.

Your eyes are nearly half-lidded when you come across another blog. It was so late. You knew you should probably get some rest, but one more blog couldn’t hurt.

The knots were beautiful and intricate on the model’s skin. There was one photo where large veiny hands were cupping her cheeks as she was tied up. Damn. The master had nice hands.

You learned quickly that the ones who were being tied were called models, and the one who were doing the tying were called masters.

The next photo on the blog was even more erotic than the last. Another model tied up in pretty pink rope, and a tie was being held around her neck.

You’ve seen that tie before. It was unmistakable.

The only man who wears a yellow and black tie like that was Kento Nanami.

Heart pounding, you check the caption:

Knots done by KN

This was too much to be a coincidence, right?

You keep scrolling until you come across a text post instead of a picture.

Looking for models in the Kyoto area. College shibari master looking to teach.

Holy fuck. This had to be fate, right? You felt your stomach swirling with butterflies as you hovered over the message button. What are the odds that this isn’t Nanami?

Yn: Hi.. I saw where you were looking for models to teach.. I was wondering if I could get some info on that.. Sorry to bother you so late!!

Gods. You sounded like an absolute dork. You wanted to delete the message, but it was likely that the master already received it. What had you done?

*** *** ***

You could barely sleep last night, plagued with dreams of ropes and Nanami using his tie on your wrists or neck. You were lucky that you didn’t have a morning class today.

Drowsily sitting up, you reluctantly checked your phone. It was nearly noon since you had stayed up so late. Scrolling through your notifications, your heart nearly stopped when you saw a message from that blog last night.

KN: No need to apologize. Yes, I am looking to teach a new model. What kind of information would you like?

Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohmygod.

Yn: Thanks for getting back to me!! I was kinda wondering if you charge anything for a session..?

KN: No, I don’t charge anything. I go through a pretty extensive recruiting process with my models though.

Yn: What might that include..?

KN: First, I like to get to know them on a deeper level than just first name basis. I want to know what kind of understanding they have about shibari.

KN: Then, I request that the model provides me with some kind of proof that they’re in the right medical condition for shibari. It is a demanding art that does include some physical aspects. I want to know what your body can handle.

KN: After that, I try out practice knots on the model, making sure they’re absolutely comfortable every step of the way. I think of this as a trial run.

KN: Granted all goes well, I then draft up a beneficial agreement between the both of us.

Oh. This was so much more than you could’ve bargained for. You didn’t even expect for him to respond back, but he was talking about an agreement??

If this was Nanami, then you could feel yourself falling even more hopelessly for him. If this wasn’t Nanami, you were definitely reluctant to move forward.

Yn: An agreement..?

KN: Don’t let that word discourage you. I’m a man of rules and principles, that’s all. We’ll talk more if we get there.

If.

That word felt like a bee sting right in the gut. As delusional as it may sound, it felt like he was already discounting you without completely being rude.

You didn’t even know what you were thinking when you messaged this person on the internet. You weren’t even sure it was Nanami. The idea of shibari was appealing, tempting even, but you really didn’t want to just experience it with any type of person.

A message on your phone grabs your attention.

KN: May I take you out to coffee sometime, yn?

This was probably wrong, but it felt right. Something was pulling you to keep texting him.

Yn: I don’t normally meet strangers from the internet so quickly.

KN: Oh? We’re strangers? I would’ve at least considered us to be acquaintances.

Your eyes widen as you stare down at your phone. This might actually be Kento Nanami messaging you, and he offered to take you out to coffee. You were now aware of how hard your heart was pounding in your chest.

Yn: Is this Kento Nanami..?

KN: It is. Was it not obvious?

Yn: It definitely was. I think I was just nervous and didn’t want to get my hopes up.

KN: Get your hopes up? You were hoping for it to be me?

Yn: Is it weird if I was..?

KN: I would consider it to be cute rather than weird.

KN: About that coffee..?

*** *** ***

A pile of discarded clothes lay on your bed as you were trying on another outfit while Shoko watched you. You had hated everything you have tried on so far.

“What’s so great about Nanami anyways?” Shoko asks as she opens up your window and lights up a cigarette. You’ve begged her to stop smoking, but she adamantly refuses, stating “at least I’ll die happy”.

“He’s just… kind of mysterious, is he not?” You ask as you’re looking at yourself in a full length mirror. You were to meet him in about thirty minutes at a local coffee shop near the campus.

Your body is being hugged by mocha brown shirt and a brown plaid pleated skirt.

“Jesus, yn. Is he getting to know you or your ass?” Shoko jokes as she grins up at you with her cigarette tucked between her lips.

“Both if I’m lucky.” You wink at your friend who rolls her eyes playfully at you.

“And you’re one hundred percent sure you’re not into girls? What does Nanami have that I don’t?” Shoko’s no stranger to flirting with you. It was just her personality type. Though, if you were into girls, Shoko would definitely be your type.

“I’m sorry. When did you grow a dick?”

“You’re saying you wouldn’t suck my strap?” She playfully pouts and gives you a look that almost makes your heart skip a beat.

“For you, Sho? I just might.” You continue to banter with her as you grab your purse.

“You better go before I steal Nanami’s woman.” She looks away from you as she snuffs her cigarette against the outside brick.

“I’m not his woman.” You retort as you head towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah, I better be your maid of honor. I wanna wear a tux though.”

You laugh at your friend’s boldness and decide to hurry down to the coffee shop, not wanting to keep Nanami waiting. He seems like the type of guy to value punctuality.

As you arrive to the local shop, you marvel at how nice the shop looks. The walls are painted with a soft eggshell white, and it has accents of dark oak wood and black decorations. It’s decorated high and low with botanical plants

Nanami was sitting in the corner of the shop in a more private area of the shop. He seemed to already be sipping on a coffee of sorts. You feel your heart start to pound at the sight of him. He was wearing a black button-up shirt that hugged his muscular arms so deliciously thanks to his harness that he was also wearing. His beige slacks also fit his frame nicely. You might dare say, Nanami has a nice ass.

His hazel eyes lifted up from a book he was reading, and his lips so subtly quirked up into a smile as soon as he caught a glance of you. He stood up from his seat and pulled your chair out for you like the gentleman he was.

“You look lovely.” His deep voice made your head spin for a moment. Sure, you had heard him during class, but he sounded much more relaxed and less robotic.

“As do you.” You respond before realizing your blunder. “I mean, you look handsome-“ The words quickly fall from your mouth.

“Oh? I'm not lovely?" He asks, an edge a playfulness in his tone. You didn't know he had the capabilities for that.

"I- No- I meant. You are?"

"Relax. I don't bite." He takes a small sip from his coffee before lazily looking back up at you. "Unless you ask me to."

Heat floods your face, and you immediately cross your legs together, trying not to show your obvious likeness to that idea. "Good to know." You finally manage to say after a moment.

He gives you a kind, warm smile in response. "Do you want to order a coffee? Then, we can get to know each other more?" He asks in a reassuring tone. His presence is nerve racking, but he also provides almost a sense of comfort. He has things under control, and you just have to follow along.

"Sure." You agree, and he walks with you up to the counter to order a drink.

"Can I get a vanilla latte please?" You ask, and the barista types in your order before rambling off your total. You reach into your purse to retrieve your credit card, but Nanami subtly nudges you while handing the barista his card.

"I could've gotten that..." You quietly state, feeling guilty that he paid for you. Nanami shakes his head with a small scoff of amusement.

"I invited you out, yn. I wouldn't expect for someone to pay for something that I invited them out to." Nanami assures you before the barista hands you your latte. You make the mental note to get him back at a later date.

The both of you settle back in at your table.

"So, how did you find my blog?" He asks with a small, curious smile on his face.

"Well..." You start off, but your voice trails off. Not fancying the idea of telling him that you and Shoko had gossiped about him, you decide to bend the truth just a bit. "I've always been intrigued by the idea of BDSM, and I just kinda fell down a rabbit hole of shibari, which led me to your page."

"Oh really? What intrigued you the most about BDSM?" He cocks an eyebrow up at you, his smile never fading.

"Trust, mostly." You respond sheepishly.

Nanami couldn't have came up with a better answer himself. He shifted his position a bit, and he leaned into the table ever so slightly. "Trust... Is that what excites you?"

You feel your heart flutter in your chest as you gaze into his hazel eyes. "Yeah... being able to follow in someone's lead because I trust they're sense of judgment. That's what excites me."

"A woman after my own heart." He jokes kindly as he leans back into his seat. "So, no experiences with BDSM or shibari though? Just intrigue?"

"Yeah... just intrigue." You agree as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth.

"What all do you know about shibari?"

"Hm, I know the roles of master and model... I know there are different color ropes. It seems like a very emotional act..." He nods at what you're saying.

"It can be very emotional for both the model and the master. It's a huge test of vulnerability, trust, submission, and leadership. You know, Yn, if I ever have the honor of tying you, I will be holding your life in my hands."

You feel the heat rush to your face and between your legs from his words. There was something about giving him that level of control over you that drove you mad on the inside. You almost wanted to tell him that you wanted to skip to the trial run, but you knew that his process was what was best.

"I.. I know that... The honor...?" You softly question, causing for him to gently laugh.

"Yes, the honor. Never ever let a dom or master make you feel like your submission is anything less than a privilege. You don't owe me or anyone any part of you."

Jesus Christ. How was this man even real?

"Uh.. Noted... So, how did you find shibari..?" You hate how spacey you get when you're feeling nervous, but you don't want to fuck up and say the wrong thing.

"I always took pride in photography, so when I found photos of shibari, I knew that was something I wanted to capture. The leadership role was not always something I've been good at." He explains as he gaze drifts down towards his coffee. You're silently grateful that the coffee shop isn't too busy. They're also playing soft lo-fi tunes that drown out yours and Nanami's conversation.

"How long have you been a master?" You curiously ask, feeling a small pit in your stomach as you remember he has had other models.

"Well, I've been tying knots on people since I turned eighteen, but I'd say I really became a master at it when I turned twenty-one. That's also when I really started to take it more seriously. I use to just tie up whoever volunteered just so I could learn the knots on an actual human body. That got me into some shitty situations, so once I gained enough experience, I decided to do this little recruitment process."

"Is this just a hobby or..?"

"I see it as a lifestyle, one that I don't bother hiding."

"Then, what are you in Uni for?" You ask as you tilt your head to the side a bit, feeling confused as to why he was in college if he seemed to only have a passion in something he was already a master at.

He gives you another amused laugh. "Business." He replies.

"Why would you be in the business major?"

"I run my own business, darling. The pictures of shibari I take aren't free, with the exception of the ones I post to my blog to market it. I also photograph other things as well."

"Ohh..." You drawl as you feel a bit embarrassed for not considering that aspect. "So... how many models do you have...?" You reluctantly ask, unable to squash the growing pit in your stomach.

A small smile curls on Nanami's face as he looks at you with an unreadable expression. He seems to completely think through his response before he opens his mouth.

"I wouldn't necessarily say I have any models of my own." He answers, but that really only fills you with more questions instead of reassurance.

"So... that means...?" You ask, not daring to look up from your coffee mug. It was foolish to want a sense of monogamy from him at this early of a stage. You knew it was, but you still couldn't get behind the idea of him having multiple models.

"It means that..." The door to the cafe jingles, and Nanami's face immediately shifts to a more serious one. It's an expression that you're use to because it's the one he uses around campus. He looks unamused and almost annoyed.

"Nanamiiin!!!" A white-haired male drawled as he approached your table. You recognized him as another student from uni.

"Gojo." Kento greets in a flat tone as he eyes the male. Gojo seems to not take any offense to Nanami's tone, and he plops down on the bench seat right next to him.

"Are you on a date, Nanami?" Gojo teases as he eyes you then looks back at the blonde with a grin.

"What are you doing here, Gojo? You don't even like coffee." He says, completely ignoring the other's question.

"This cafe has a really good hot chocolate, you know. Also, am I not allowed to run into my best friend while he's in public with a pretty girl?" Gojo cuts his bright blue eyes towards you, beckoning for you to speak up.

"Oh, are you two friends?" You ask, unable to bear Gojo's omniscient stare.

"The closest." Gojo replies before draping his arm around Nanami's shoulder. Your date rolls his eyes and shrugs Gojo's arm off of him.

"Too close in my opinion." Nanami grumbles lowly.

"So cruel, Nanamin." Gojo pouts over at his friend who doesn't budge in the slightest. "Are you at least going to introduce me to your date?"

"No, leave."

"Nanamiiiin~!"

"My name's Yn." You interject their little spat as you hold out your hand towards Gojo's.

"Yn, what a pretty name for an even prettier girl." He says as he takes your hand and brings your palm up to his lips.

Before either of you could react, a strong hand grabs onto Gojo's wrist, preventing him from kissing your hand. "If you intend on keeping your hand and your dignity, I'd leave now."

Your eyes slightly widen as you watch the covert struggle between the two men. You can’t help but be hyper aware of your heart pounding in your chest. Was he being territorial… over you?

Satrou looks back over at Nanami with a smug grin before he releases your hand. He then drags Nanami’s hand up to his mouth and presses a small, polite kiss to his hand as if to piss the blonde off more. “You should bring her to the pool party next weekend, Nanamin.” He suggests with a grin.

Satoru then stands from his seat. “It was nice meeting you, yn. I hope to see you again soon.” He then promptly leaves the cafe - without even buying a hot chocolate.

Nanami takes a few moments to repress his anger back down. He takes a deep breath before speaking up. “I’m so sorry about him. He doesn’t understand boundaries at all. He didn’t make you feel uncomfortable, did he?”

“No, no, it’s alright! I’m okay.” You assure him with a reassuring smile.

He nods and returns a relieved smile before checking his watch and softly sighing. “I have to go… I would like to see you again.”

You can’t help the smile that creeps up on your face as you nod your head. “I’d like that too..”

“Do you have a free day before next weekend?” He asks before drinking the rest of his coffee. You had only just now noticed that he was drinking straight black coffee.

“Oh, uh, Wednesday afternoons are free.” You respond, feeling a flutter in your chest from the promise of seeing him again.

“Wednesday afternoon it is. How do you feel about coming to my dorm?”

His dorm? The one that’s rumored that he keeps ropes in? You can already feel your excitement bubbling up inside you.

“Your.. uh.. roommate will be there?” You ask, silently kicking yourself for how you stumbled over your words.

“Hm? No, no, I don’t have a roommate.” He assures with a small smile. “I paid the extra money. Considered it to be an investment towards my lifestyle since practicing shibari would be hard to do with a roommate.”

The new information only makes you feel more nervous and excited. For one, it was an extra thousand dollars to be roomed alone. That was no small “investment”. For two, this meant you were going to be alone with him in his room - with ropes.

“Oh.. uh, yeah, I’m okay with that.” You finally respond after a moment.

“Perfect.” He stands from his seat and looks down at you again. You have to crane your neck upward to look at his face. It’s your first time seeing him up close like this. He was tall, and his muscles and veins made you want to salivate all over the table. “See you then.” He mumbles before affectionately patting your head and leaving the cafe.

*** *** ***

The wait until Wednesday dragged on and on. You were so antsy to finally see Nanami again. You had filled your time gushing to a very skeptical Shoko and stalking his blog. He hadn’t posted anything new yet, which you decided to be a good thing. Maybe he didn’t really have any other models?

You politely knocked on his dorm door, triple checking that you went to the right one. He had texted you which one was his this morning.

The door open a moment later, and you were greeted to the sight of a cozy looking Nanami. He wasn’t in his normal attire - just a t-shirt that fit him way too tightly and a pair of grey sweatpants. Slut.

“Hi.” You greeted awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

“Hello.” He let out a puff of air in amusement to your candidness. “Come in.” He says as he moves out of your way. “Make yourself at home, please. I figured we could watch a movie today unless you wanted to do something else.”

Yeah, Nanami - do you. You silently thought to yourself.

“A movie sounds good.” You casually reply as you stroll into his dorm room. It was the average size of a dorm room, but since he didn’t have a roommate, it felt a lot larger. He had a couch where the other bed would go.

Taking in more detail, it was incredibly clean yet cozy. Your eyes drifted around his plain looking room. You don’t really know what you expected, but you assumed there would be some sort of hint to shibari.

That’s when your eyes find a coat hanger, but it wasn’t hanging up coats. Bundles of differently colored ropes hung from the hooks. He had every color of the rainbow and even some multi-colored ropes as well.

Biting your lip slightly, you wondered how the ropes would feel against your skin - if they’d be soft or rough. Would he be gentle or rough?

“I see you found my collection.” His voice slightly startles you, causing for you to flinch. A small chuckle of amusement escapes him from your skittish behavior.

“Oh- uh, yeah, sorry..” You apologize, not wanting for him to think you’re weird.

“Don’t be. I assumed you’d be curious. Want to touch one?” He offers as his hand slowly finds the small of your back, and he casually guides you over to the coat hanger in the corner of the room.

“I’m allowed?” You sheepishly ask.

“I wouldn’t have offered if you weren’t.” He calmly laughs as his hand grazes across a white rope. “This is called jute rope. It’s made for comfort and aesthetics.”

You nod your head and carefully reach out to brush your hand against the rope as if it was made of glass. The rope really was silky smooth. You almost wish your clothes were made out of the same material.

“I didn’t expect it to be so soft.” You muse quietly, allowing your hand to continue petting the rope.

“It’s made with comfort of models in mind. It won’t leave any rope burns or anything like that on their skin.” He explains, and his hand moves to a different rope. “This one on the other hand is hemp rope. It’s rougher, so it can sit more snugly against the skin. It’s great for tight knots and suspension.”

You follow his lead, carefully touching the next black hemp rope. It was rougher than the jute rope. “Suspension?” You quietly ask.

“That’s for experienced models and masters. It’s a whole different breed of shibari - one that requires a huge foundation of trust and understanding of each other’s bodies.” Nanami explains as he watches your facial expressions.

“Oh.. have you ever suspended someone before..?” You can’t help your curiosity when it comes to his experience level.

“Once, but it was sheerly for practice.” He calmly answers before moving his hand over to the soft pink rope next to it. You immediately recognize that rope from the pictures on his blog. “This one is made of cotton. It’s extremely soft and lightweight, great for beginners models.”

You reluctantly reach out and barely touch the pink one. It was incredibly soft, but you can’t help but think about the lucky girl posing in his pictures and how pretty she looked in his hands.

“You recognize this one, don’t you?” He asks, immediately noticing your withdrawal.

“Yeah.” You respond as you look away from him and the ropes. You knew you were being dramatic, but some part of you couldn’t help it.

It’s obvious to you that the girls he’s tied up in the past spread those rumors about him, telling everyone what he likes to do in his free time. You painted a narrative in your head that all the other girls he’s tied up in the past aren’t really into shibari. They probably just wanted to get in his pants. Okay, maybe that was an unfair assumption.

“Hey.” Nanami speaks up, and his hand gently cups your cheek, making you look up at him. “We can pick out your own rope, okay? I want you to be comfortable, and if using ropes that have been on other models makes you uncomfortable, I’ll buy a whole set just for you.”

It’s a heartfelt gesture - proving that he has your best interest in mind. It didn’t completely put an end to your bitter jealousy, but it helped.

“I don’t want you to spend that kind of money just because of my downfall.”

"Downfall-? No, darling, it's not a downfall, and please, there is nothing else in the world I'd rather buy than new shibari ropes. As soon as you can provide a doctor's note to me, I'd love to take you and pick out ropes for you together." Nanami's hand stays firm on your cheek, not allowing for you to look away from him. His voice sounds raw - he's being serious.

Something about him planning for the future makes you relax a bit. He's planning this stuff already as if you're spot in his lifestyle is already guaranteed.

Swallowing harshly, you slowly nod your head. "If it's something you'd like to do as well, I think it would help me feel a bit more comfortable."

"It is. I want this to be as fun for you as it will be for me." His voice drops an octave lower as his eyes rest upon you, practically drinking in the sight of you. Slowly dipping his head towards your ear and neck, he whispers, "You're going to look so pretty tied up. I'm excited to see what color you'll pick."

Oh.

You immediately press your thighs together, trying to subtly hide your arousal from his words. Gods, you were so easy. He didn't even have to do much to get you all worked up.

The two of you lounge on his couch, watching a movie that he has playing on his laptop. He has his arm comfortably placed around the back of the couch. Since you were watching on a laptop, you had to sit rather close to him.

The lingering scent of his cologne in the air made you feel feral, and you could feel his body heat radiating from his body. The movie was just a blur at this point as you were silently wishing he'd just wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you closer.

You sneakily catch a glimpse of his face, and you notice his eyes are closed. His breathing is even and deep. He fell asleep next to you.

What an absolute cutie.

Carefully, you reach out to the coffee table and pause the movie. With no more background noise, you can hear the soft and subtle snores escaping from his mouth.

Deciding that it would be too weird for you to stay in his space while he's unconscious, you carefully try to stand. but two strong arms loop around your waist and pull you back down - right into his lap.

"Stay." He murmurs quietly. His voice was still breathy from sleep. "Please?"

You gaze up at him, and his eyes were still closed. He had his face nuzzled into your hair while holding onto you like you were a damn teddy bear. Refusal wasn't an option. Even in his sleep, Nanami was stronger than you.

"I'll stay." You whisper back to him, knowing good and well that he was fast asleep. Getting cozy in his lap, you allowed your eyes to slip close as well.

*** *** ***

He apologized profusely to you for falling asleep once you two woke up from your cozy nap. You reassured him that it was okay. You were grateful that he felt comfortable enough to fall asleep next to you, and it seemed like you both needed that nap.

In order to make it up to you, Nanami invited you to that pool party that Satoru mentioned at the cafe. If you had the guts to meet Satoru and still stick around, you may as well meet the rest of his friends.

Now it's Friday, the day before the pool party. You hadn't really heard from Nanami since he invited you, but he was active on his blog. That sick feeling clouded in your stomach upon seeing another model tied up in the white rope you were just touching on Wednesday.

Jealousy's a bitch.

Deciding that you really couldn't be upset, you weren't even technically one of his models. It was also very possible that Nanami was posting older pictures that he had taken before you had even messaged him.

You couldn't stand to sit on the sidelines for much longer. If you wanted to become one of his models, you needed to go down to the clinic and get a physical to prove to Nanami that you were in good health.

Surprisingly, it was easy to lie to the nurse and say that you need a physical to join the volleyball team. She didn't suspect a thing as she had you sit down on one of the cots and fill out a clipboard.

Since this was a university clinic, privacy was not it's strong suit. You could clearly see anyone who walked in through the doors, just as they could see you.

Answering all of the questions on the clipboard with 'no', you perk your head up as your hear voices speaking to the nurse.

Your heart fell into your stomach immediately as you take in the sight of Nanami guiding a girl into the clinic. What were the odds?

Feeling your heart pounding in your chest, you try to calm yourself. This could be just a funny coincidence.

"What seems to be going on today?" The nurse asks while looking between the girl and Nanami.

"She just needs to be checked out is all." Nanami's calm voice felt like a bullet. He was here, helping another girl get a physical, so she could be a model too.

All while he had been practically radio silent to you for the past couple of days.

Glancing over, his eyes caught yours. A smile immediately curled on his lips until he saw you crumpling up your paper from your clipboard.

"Nevermind. I'm good." You tell the nurse and Nanami as you chunk the piece of paper into the trash.

"Hey wait- yn-" Nanami tries as he tries to reach out to you, but you were already gone.

It's funny how he was suddenly flooding your phone.

KN: Yn, please, allow me to explain.

KN: I know you're upset with me. Let's just talk this out.

KN: Tell me what to do to make it better.

KN: Yn, please.

KN: Please. I'm sorry. It wasn't how it appeared.

The messages went on for the rest of the day. You ignored each one of them. You had placed him on some fucking pedestal just because he seemed quiet and 'not like other guys'. BLEH. He was exactly like other guys. He could just tie boy scout knots and say pretty assuring words. This is exactly the reason why you didn't care to make friends. Something will always come around and burst your bubble.

You finally gained enough courage to tell Shoko what happened the next day. She promptly came over to try to console you.

"Baby, he could've actually had an explanation." She oddly advocates for Nanami, even though you distinctly remember her asking what was so good about him when you first brought him up.

"No, he just wanted a way in, so he could lie and make me feel better." You say, telling yourself that fact as much as you were telling her.

"Are you still going to go to that pool party? I'll be there." She says as she rubs your hair gently, allowing the strands to flow through her fingers. "You can at least show him what he's missing."

The thought of going out anywhere sounded like torture and seeing him sounded even worse, but the thought of getting your mind off him did sound appealing. Plus, you did have a really cute bathing suit...

"You'll be there..?" You ask timidly.

"Of course." She assures you with a smile.

*** *** ***

Walking into the huge frat house, your arm is linked with Shoko's. She was wearing a pretty black one-piece bathing suit that she's wearing a black lace shawl to cover her body.

You were wearing a lilac bikini with a bathing skirt that tied around your hips.

It was dark out, but the back patio of the house was lit up by a cozy fire and string lights that wrapped around in trees and around the patio area. The massive underground pool was also lit up by pool lights that were underwater.

It wasn't necessarily crowded per say since it was so massive, but there were probably twenty or so people hanging around the pool and outdoor bar.

"Shokoooo!" A familiar white-haired guy shouted from inside the pool. The he was leaned back, so the water lapped at his chest and abs. He raised up a beer. "aaanndd... Nanami's girl. You made it."

Your face involuntarily grimaced from being referred to as 'Nanami's girl'. Had you not seen pictures of his new models and him taking that girl to get a physical, you probably would've blushed from the nickname.

"She's my girl tonight. Thank you." Shoko bantered with a small grin, and she gave your arm a reassuring squeeze.

Speaking of Nanami, you didn't see him anywhere. Did he decide not to come?

A tall brunette male with long hair and gauges stood beside Gojo in the pool, and he leaned over to whisper in his ear. Satoru's face shifted, and he nodded. "That's right." He said a bit too loudly before the brunette shushed him.

"Come on. Let's get in." Shoko urges you as she slips off her shawl and gets an over exaggerated whistle from Satoru. You then hear a "ow!". It was clear the brunette had elbowed him.

You really don't feel ready to be alone, so you follow her lead and slip the sheer lilac skirt that covered your hips, and you throw it on one of the nearby patio chairs.

Stepping into the water, it becomes clear to you that the pool is heated.

"How does the school even afford this?" You quietly mutter.

"The school?" The brunette laughs. "The school didn't afford this."

"This isn't a frat house..?" You quietly ask as you step deeper and deeper into the water.

"The Gojo-frat house." Satoru replies with a cheeky grin.

"It's called daddy's money." The brunette adds with his own grin.

"It's called Gojo money, Suguru." The white-haired male jabs the other in the side.

The patio door slides open behind you, and you look over your shoulder to see Nanami walking out with another tall brunette male, but this one had shorter hair. He also had tired eyes and a stoic face.

Your heart aches a bit as you share a glance with Nanami. He was wearing swimming trunks and a grey t-shirt that covered his chest. He looked at you with a hopeful glance, as he obviously looked like he wanted to say something.

"Hiromi, haven't seen you here in a while." Suguru comments as he takes a drink from a red solo cup.

"Yeah, law school is pretty unforgiving. I don't recommend." Hiromi says with a small smile as he sits down on the concrete next to the pool. He allows his legs to dangle inside the pool next to you. "I'm sorry. I don't recognize you from around." He says as his gaze falls upon you.

"Oh, uhm, I'm Yn. I don't normally come to these things." You awkwardly greet yourself as you look up at him. Maybe he'd be a good distraction.

"I'm Hiromi Higuruma. It's nice to meet you." He smiles as he sticks out his hand. You graciously take it, and he gives your hand a small squeeze.

Your eyes meet and for a moment. You're almost able to forget about Nanami. That is, until you see the blonde strip off his shirt out of your peripheral vision. You give him the satisfaction of glancing over at him.

Fuck him and his entirely too nice body.

He looked like an Olympian. His shoulders were nice and broad. His chest and abs were perfectly defined too. He slimmed up a bit towards the waist area, and his swim trunks were ever so slightly giving you a peek at his v-line.

"Show off." Hiromi laughs as Nanami sits on the other end of the pool. He then props his hands up on the concrete and allows his entire body to slip into the water.

You're almost completely mesmerized by him, until Hiromi speaks up.

"So, you don't come around these things too much?" He asks as he looks down at you while your lower half is submerged in water.

"No, I don't. I don't really enjoy the party scene." You reply sheepishly as you look back up at Hiromi.

"Me neither." He laughs leaning down towards you slightly. "I don't know why they continue to invite me to these things."

You share a small laugh with him, but a cold chill makes your body shiver. You can feel a pair of eyes boring holes into you. Risking a glance over in Nanami's direction, you see him staring straight into Higuruma's very soul.

Was he actually jealous?

"Do you want a tour?" Hiromi asks as he seems to not even notice Nanami's death glare.

"Uhhh..." You drawl as you glance back over at Shoko. She was currently chatting up a pretty girl at the other end of the pool. A small exhale of amusement leaves your nose. So much for being her girl tonight. "Sure. I'd like that." You respond to Hiromi. He carefully takes your hand and helps you out of the pool.

You two explore the massive frat house, and Hiromi tells you that he use to go to your school and live in the frat house with Satoru, Suguru, and a few other names you don't recognize. However, he left once he was accepted into law school.

"You know... no one would notice if we were gone for just a little while." Hiromi murmurs into your ear as he crowds you against a wall. "I could show you my old bedroom. I doubt Gojo had the decency to even fix it up after I left."

"Oh, I..."

"Hiromi." A deep voice calls from the other side of the hallway, startling you from responding. You glance over and see Nanami with a towel thrown over his bare shoulder.

"Kento." Hiromi responds with a half-smirk. "Have you met Yn?"

"Very much so. Satoru's calling for you outside." Nanami responds flatly as he stares Hiromi down. "I think it'd be wise of you to go see what he wants."

Hiromi lets out a slight sigh, and he moves back away from you and the wall. "Fine." He responds before brushing his hand against your cheek and walking away.

Left alone with Nanami, you have no where to go and hide. You can't avoid his questions anymore.

Stalking forward slowly, you feel your heart start to race with each step.

"You've been ignoring my texts..."

"I have." You respond dryly as you keep your eyes away from him.

The sound of his footsteps hitting the ground draw closer.

"That girl at the clinic wasn't my model. I don't have any models." His voice was lower than normal, hanging onto each word.

"The pictures on the blog? You going silent for a while?" You ask as you take a step back from him.

"I run a business of selling pictures of models practicing shibari as pieces of artwork. It's all completely consensual, usually girls come to me looking to make some money since I give them forty-five percent of all the money earned from the pictures. They're not my models though. I rarely ever see the same girls twice considering the amount of money I pay them." He explains as his footsteps gradually grow closer.

You take another step back, trying to comprehend what he was saying, and your back presses against the wall. Dead end.

"The girl at the clinic?"

"She passed out in front of me completely by sheer coincidence. I was just doing her a favor and not leaving her unconscious in the middle of a college campus."

He takes another step towards you until you can feel his body heat radiating from him. You're eye-level with his pectoral muscles as you can't bring yourself to look him in the eye right now.

"Yn." He says your name in such a demanding tone. You slowly drag your eyes upward and give him a guilty look. Your jealousy had gotten the better of you, and it almost cost you Nanami. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat as he carefully reaches up and cups your cheek. "I've wanted it to be you ever since I first saw you around campus."

"Wanted what to be me..?" You softly whisper as his giant hand encompasses your cheek and jaw. His thumb drags gentle circles on your skin, massaging your face.

"My model. My muse. Please, forgive me for not being immediately forthcoming as to what I do for a living. I'll stop it immediately if you ask me too. I'll do whatever you want.. just please.."

Your hands reach up and gather his jaw before you can even think twice, and you pull him downward to you. He immediately gets the memo and dips his head down, pressing his lips against yours firmly.

You respond immediately with a small whimper as he presses your back against the wall. The sounds of lips smacking together filled the hallway completely as Nanami drinks down every little noise you make.

His hands are gently groping at your thighs, massaging the soft, pillowy flesh beneath his fingers, and he lets out a quiet groan. Your hands trail upwards to his blonde hair, and your rake your fingers through his undercut.

Your bodies are pressed together, barely hidden by the fabric that was your bathing suits. Nanami trails his kisses down your jaw and neck, gently sucking and nipping at the skin. His hands firmly hold onto your thighs, and he lifts your feet off the ground, holding you up against the wall.

“I can’t get enough of you.” His voice mumbles between kisses.

“Nanami…” You softly gasp as he sucks a love bite into the crook of your neck.

“I thought I was going to kill him.” He goes on as he gently bites and kisses down your shoulder. You immediately know he’s talking about Hiromi.

“I couldn’t stand the way he looked at you.” Another bite. “I want to be the only one who looks at you like that.” Bite.

You’re pitifully trying to grind your hips up against Nanami’s growing bulge, desperate for friction. “Say you’re mine, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You feel your heart flutter at his offer. Nanami’s dirty secret wasn’t that he’s a shibari master. He would tell that to anyone proudly. His dirty secret is he’s as jealous and territorial as you.

“I’m yours.” Your voice is breathy as you lean your head back against the wall. “I’m yours. Please, Nanami.”

Oh, that whiny tone will be the death of him.

“That’s what I thought.” He lowly rumbled into your ear before he started to move his hips, practically dry humping you in the hallway. Anyone could walk in and see you two.

You were too enthralled by the feeling of his tip bumping and rubbing against your core. You could feel every outline thanks to both of you being in swimwear.

“Fuck.” He quietly growls as his hands start to move your body as well, practically using you as a toy for pleasure.

He leans over towards your shoulder, and he catches the tie of your bikini string between his teeth. All while he’s grinding against you, he unties one of your bikini strings using only his teeth.

The wet fabric immediately slides down, allowing him a peak at your breasts. He lifts you up a bit higher so he can kiss around your chest. Unfortunately for him, your top is still blocking what he’s aiming for.

“Take it off.” He demanded lowly, getting impatient.

Your hands immediately reach behind your back, and you pull a string that immediately frees your chest. Your top ends up on the ground.

“Good girl.” He rewards as he leans his head down and kisses all around the soft flesh of your breast. His tongue darts out, gently lapping at your nipple, causing you to shiver. A smile curls onto his lips. He loves your reactions.

“Nanami~” You impatiently whine again.

“So needy.” He clicks his tongue. “Tell me what you want, darling.”

“Please.. no I-“ You fumble over your words, feeling to shy that you want him to fuck you into next week.

“Use your words. Tell me.” He’s unrelenting.

“I want.. want you to fuckmeplease.” You quickly say, mushing all your words together.

“You can do better than that, dear. Try again.” It’s no wonder he’s a fucking dom.

“Please fuck me.” You finally whine out.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you, right here?” He asks as he adjusts his arms. He cradles the back of your thighs with one arm as his other is busy pushing down his swimming trunks just enough.

“Yes.. please..”

“Right where any of our friends could come and see us?” He questions once more as he hooks his fingers into your bikini bottoms, and he pulls them to the side.

“Yes..” You whine as you glance down. Your skin runs cold as you see his length.

“So impatient.” He muses as he gently starts to rub the small bundle of nerves in tight circles, causing your body to shake lightly in anticipation. Your legs hook around his waist, and your arms stay around his shoulders.

“Hope you can be quiet, darling.” He taunts as he aligns himself with your hot wet entrance. He hums as he pushes in at a torturously slow pace. It feels like he’s splitting you in half, quite literally impaling you with his cock as he lowers you down onto it.

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel each inch of him push into you. Harsh jagged pants and small moans escape from you involuntarily.

“Or don’t. I wouldn’t mind them knowing how good I can make you feel.”

“F-fuck too big.. ngh~ I.. I can’t.”

“Shh. You can take it.” He hums as he presses soft kisses to your neck. “You’re my— hah.. good girl, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes!” You stifle a cry as your body hopelessly clings to him. He’s only halfway in, and you’re already so delirious.

“So warm and… ngh tight for me, hm?” He praises as he continues shoving himself inside of you. His self control is slowly withering away as your cunt grips him like a vice.

“Therree we go..” He purrs as he’s finally buried himself to the hilt. “Biiig stretch.”

“Sh-shut.. up.” You whimper out of embarrassment as you lean your head down into his shoulder.

“What did you just say?”

“N-noth-“

His hips pull back and snap inward forcefully, causing your back to thump against the wall. “Ah!”

“Say it again.” He demands.

“Shut up..” Your voice is barely a whisper, and Nanami laughs at you. He laughs.

“Oh darling.” He murmurs into your ear quietly. “I’d suggest you check your tone before you speak to me like that again.” He rams his cock into you once more, causing a small whisper-cry to fall from your mouth. “Or else everyone in this goddamn house will find out how much you love being fucked by me.” His hips start to move at a brutal pacing. Your back is flat against the wall as you’re physically knocked back with each thrust.

“I-I… ah~ … ‘m sorry.”

“I know you are.” He murmurs quietly into your ear. “Ngh.. fuck’s sake.. takin’ me so well.” He praises as his hands are dragging you in sync up and down his cock, impaling you harder.

Your walls squeeze around him so deliciously, and your pretty sounds falling from your mouth. Nanami doesn’t feel in control for the first time. Sure, he’s the dominant one in this situation, but his hips are moving completely on their own accord, rutting into you fervently. His cock can’t get enough of your warm spongy walls wrapping around him.

Glancing down, he can see a ring of white and clear slick gathering at the base of his cock. “Such a mess.” He mumbles as starts rolling his hips faster into you.

His thick tip gently kissed your cervix with each roll of the hips. Your body was trembling in his arms. “Na..fuck.. nanami~” You moan as your nails are digging into his shoulder blades, giving him scratched as trophies.

“That’s right, darling. Say my name.”

“Nanami~”

“Louder. Want .. mnnph.. want our friends to hear you.” His hips are rocking back and forth deliciously, rutting you into the wall like an untamed animal. His body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat, and his normally kept blonde hair was messily falling onto his forehead.

“Nanami!” You shout, obeying his demand.

“Good fucking girl.” He growls as he bounces your body up and down along his length.

“Sh-shit.. Nanami, I wanna… ah~ wan’ to cum please.” You ask for permission as soon as you feel the coiling heat in your stomach. Your body is so close.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me feel you.” He pants as he feels his orgasm nearing as well.

“Oh, fuck-“ You whimper as your body spasms on him. Your walls clenching around him impossibly tighter.

“Thaaat’s it.” He purrs as he pumps himself in and out of you gently, fucking you through your orgasm. “That’s a good girl, finishing on my cock like that. So pretty when you cum.”

Your poor fucked out cunt is so sensitive as he’s continually forcing his cock in and out between your soaked folds. Grunts and growls escape his mouth as his pacing is slower but purposeful.

“You ready for my- mmnph~ cum, baby? Where you want it, huh?” He asks as his legs are starting to tremble with each thrust. It’s taking every last inch of self control he has not to finish right then.

“I-inside.. please, don’t pull out.” You whine as your legs tighten around him more.

“Want it inside your pretty cunt? You wanna be filled with my cum? You sure you can handle that?”

“Yes, please.. fuck~ please, Nanami.”

“Come here.” A deep growl rumbles from his throat as he pushes into you as deep as your pussy will allow, and his cock twitches with each rope of cum his blows into you. You’re able to count at least six. “Ohhh~ fuck-!” He curses as his entire body stays tense for a few more moments.

Deep breaths fill the silence.

Your body is gently trembling in his arms as you’re both coming down from your highs. He presses a small kiss to your cheek. “Do you think you can stand..?”

“N-no..” You reply sheepishly.

“Okay darling, I’m gonna sit you down on the floor. I’ll be right back, okay? Just get your top on and wait for me.” He reassures before hissing as he pulls out of you. His seed immediately trickles down your thighs.

He gently sits your bottom down onto the ground, and he makes sure you’re okay before he pulls his swim trunks back up and walks out towards the back patio.

Your body will barely cooperate with you as you tie the lilac bikini top back to your chest. Your hands keep shaking and fucking up the knot.

From the patio, you hear loud cheers and claps coming from Satoru.

“Na-na-mi!” He chants to embarrass his friend. A few others in the pool chant along with him, loving the look of annoyance and underlying pride on his face.

Kento simply rolls his eyes with a small smile and grabs his clothes and your sheer skirt from the back patio. “Go for round two. Don’t be a pussy!” Satoru shouts obscenely, and Nanami flips him off as he walks back into the house with you.

He puts his shirt on you to cover you up and carries you back to his dorm bridal style.

“Sleep at mine tonight. We’ll get you some clothes tomorrow and go to the store.” He offers as he closes his door with his hip.

“The store?” You ask curiously, wondering why you two would need to go to the store. “I’m on birth control.” You inform, thinking he’s talking about getting a plan B.

“Well, that’s good to know, but I was talking about getting your ropes.” He responds with a soft smile as he gently sits you down on the couch. He then digs some clothes for you two to wear out of his dresser.

You had almost forgotten all about shibari after he had fucked you like that. Your eyes immediately glanced over towards his coat rack, and your eyebrows furrow as you realize it’s empty.

“What happened to your other ropes?” You quietly ask.

“Hm? I gave them to a beginner shibari master.” He says casually as he pulls his swimming trunks off. You politely try to look away, which earns a laugh out of him. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me before.” He muses.

“Not like this-!” You shout with a pout as your hands cover your eyes. “Why did you give them away?” You ask quietly.

Nanami pulls on some dry pajama pants, and he carefully walks up to you while you still have your eyes covered. His thumb gently brushes against your lips, causing you to flinch slightly.

“I don’t want you to feel reminded by other people when you’re in here with me. This is our space. We’ll have our own ropes just for me to tie you up with and no one else. You’re the only person for me, and I don’t want you to think that since I have other ropes, it means I’m tying up other people.” He quietly explains as he takes your hands away from your eyes.

“But your business..?” You quietly ask as your eyebrows knit together. The thought was so considerate and sweet, but you didn’t want to be the reason for his loss of income.

“Is not as important as you are. Besides, I photograph other things.”

“And… if you take pictures of me..?”

“My eyes only.” He grins before pressing a kiss into your cheek.

BONUS SCENE.

“How’s that, darling?” Nanami asks as he tightens the knot against your wrists. “You remember the safe word?”

“Feels good.” You softly hum as you allow for your eyes to close. “Yes, I remember the safe word.” The safe word was Malaysia. Nanami admires your expression. You were a complete natural at this. He started off small, only tying your wrists behind your back as you were on his knees.

The red jute rope looked so pretty as it pressed against your flesh. He took out his camera and snapped a picture of your hands bound together. Then a picture of your relaxed face.

“So beautiful.” He praises quietly.

Your eyes flutter open, looking up at him through your lashes. His breath hitches in his throat as he takes one more picture.

“Something feels wrong.” You murmur quietly, and Nanami’s face shifts to one of concern.

“What is it, baby? Too tight?” He asks as he immediately goes to look at your wrists, making sure that he didn’t accidentally bind you too tightly.

“No.. my mouth feels empty.”

Kento’s movement stops as he looks down at you. You give a coy smile back up at him.

“Oh, I see. Too empty?” He says as he leans back up, standing in front of you to where you’re eye-level with his belt.

“Uh huh..”

“You want me to fix that, baby?”

“Please.”

His hand buries into the hair on the top of your head, and he grabs onto it with one hand. His other hand unbuckled his belt and frees his already hard cock from the constraints of clothes.

Your mouth waters as he holds your head just far enough way to where you can see his cock but not touch it. Your wrists immediately pull against the restraints.

“Oh? Is this what you want, hm?” He asks as he slowly pulls your face forward.

“Y-yes..” You stutter, immediately feeling neediness pool between your thighs as you see a bead of precum gather on his reddening tip.

“Open up for me.”

Your mouth is immediately open as you look up at him.

“Ohh, good girl.” He purrs as he thrusts his hips forward, filling your mouth with cock.

You’ve never been happier (or fuller).

BONUS-BONUS SCENE!!

“This plan is absurd.” Hiromi gripes as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Look, they’re hopeless. What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t help them out?” Satoru asks with a grin.

“Okay, run it by me one more time.” Hiromi says with a small sigh. He should be studying for the bar right now, but his friends needed him.

“Shoko is going to bring Yn to the pool party. You try to get her alone, and I’ll send Nanami in there to get you to come outside. He’ll see her with you and be so overcome with jealousy that he’ll have to spill his feelings!” Satoru explains with big hand gestures.

“You meddle in everyone’s love lives too much.” Suguru shakes his head with a fond smile.

“Shoko started it! She was the one who went telling Yn that Nanami tied up girls, knowing damn well that would intrigue her.” Satoru deflects, causing Shoko to scoff.

“I was doing him a favor! He was clearly lovesick over her, and when she mentioned liking him too, I just gave her a little breadcrumb to make her more interested.” Shoko adamantly defended herself. “You were the one who followed them to the cafe after I told you not to!”

“I had to see it for myself if he was actually going to take her on a date and bring her around!”

“All of you should be charged with stalking and harassment.” Hiromi remarks as he shakes his head. “Remind me to never tell you guys if I have a crush or not.”

*** *** ***

Tags: @theuniversesnepobaby @lemonlimecrystal-blog @getoisinnocent @jjknanamin

#jjk #jjk fanfic #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #drabble #jjk suggestive #jjk nanami #jjk smut #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #kento smut #nanami x reader #kento fluff #kento x reader #jjk kento #jjk college au #nanami fluff

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madamechrissy · 20 days ago

Text

Baby You're No Good

Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader

Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?

CW- This is a VERY angsty, please do NOT READ if you want the Geto (alt ending) this is how it was always supposed to go but I will have the happy version in a couple days. Heavy angst, reader is injured, mentions of pregnancy, reader has a baby, bittersweet and emotional, explicit sex (not with Geto) oral (f receiving) and longing/yearning. I cried 10 times so be aware lol WC this part- 7.7k

This version is does NOT END Sugu/Reader- the alt ending will! This is a Gojo/reader/ambiguous end. SKIP IT if you want the Geto end.

<<<Part Four - Playlist - Masterlist - Happy ending/alt end

Sad asf /Baby it's NO Good Ending

Satoru lifts you up into his arms effortlessly, tired students and sorcerers retreat tentatively, Suguru’s curses dissolve as if they weren’t there, all while your unconscious body lolls in Satoru’s arms. Suguru is speaking to his cult quickly, ordering them to stop and retreat for now, while Satoru waits, staring at your face now, looking so oddly peaceful for what happened.

Satoru had a feeling this would happen, and he hates himself for knowing it and bringing you anyway, but you were okay with it - willing even - to save everyone, he admires it about a girl he hardly knows. To put yourself and a baby in danger to reach out to Suguru, it shows just who you are, it’s easy to see how much Suguru has fallen, when Satoru never thought he would.

Suguru finally walks up, glaring at Satoru’s hold with eyes gone black, swiping blood off his cheek as he walks toward him now. “I can carry my wife.”

“You’ve really done such a great job taking care of her so far. I’ll carry her, I don’t trust you not to disappear and Shoko is the only one I trust helping her.”

“Tch, you think I don’t even want to help her?”

“Why? You left her.” Suguru snatches you up, and you hang so limply he feels sick, sighing in anguish as he looks at your listless body. “Now.”

Suguru never thought he’d listen to Satoru, but he does, following him now into Shoko’s medical set up, her brows raise as she sees Suguru for the first time in almost nine years, he notices how exhausted she is, all of the fun energy he remembers sapped away. He falters a moment, before carrying you inside, Satoru shuts the heavy door with an echoing bang.

“What’s happened?” Suguru delicately lays your unconscious frame, as Shoko sets to feeling your pulse.

“Energy blast from… one of my men.” Suguru gulps down it all, the fact that it’s even worse, that you were hurt by one of his by mistake.

He wants to kill that man right now.

“She’s pregnant.” Satoru mentions, as if it were so casual, and Shoko sighs now, nodding.

“Can’t be far along, she’s not showing.”

“Five weeks.” Suguru answers, quietly, as Shoko raises her hands now, and shuts her eyes, dark hair falling a bit over her shoulders.

“I can’t guarantee it will be okay, but I can save her.” Suguru’s heart shatters at her words, looking as the reverse curse technique starts working over you with the incandescent light.

“It’s all your fault. Why’d you fucking bring her here!?” Suguru walks up to Satoru now, smacking a hand as he brushes your hair a bit off your sleeping face, earning a glare behind white bandages.

“She asked to come.”

Suguru pauses. Are you that reckless?

“I told her no at first, but I thought she’d be the only thing to bring you to any of your fucking senses, have you stop killing my students, our friends.”

“I don’t have any fucking friends.”

Shoko scoffs, eyeing him with tired eyes now. “You did.”

“It’s not you all I wanted to eliminate, you simply chose to defend them, the weak, pathetic…” He can’t say it anymore, what he called them, what he called you.

“Weren’t you the one who said it’s our job to protect the weak?” Satoru’s voice is quiet now, reminding him of just that, the time he felt that way, naive and young.

“You continue to lose all your comrades and friends, Satoru you may be the strongest but it’s not worth it - without them, there are no more curses.”

“It’s not your choice to change how the world is. You’ve gone so far, the only person I’ve ever seen you love since you… changed… is here.” Satoru’s words nearly make him fall over with the pain, the grief, looking at your still unconscious body, as Shoko focuses harder.

“Please just save her.” He whispers now, and Satoru slips off his blindfold completely, blue eyes seeing right through him.

“You did this. If she doesn’t make it, it’s because of you.”

“I fucking know that!” Suguru shoves Satoru now, which merely earns a tired, sad little smile, while he grips his wrist before he lets Suguru strike him. “I know it, okay? I don’t even… fucking deserve her. I know it.” He’s close to tears as he shoves off Satoru, covering his face before he looks back at you.

It’s gone too far, god it’s all gone too far, hasn’t it?

How can he live with himself after what he’s done to you. He places a hand on yours, you don’t grip it how could you, limp and weak fingers, exhausted face growing just a little brighter. You’re exhausted from him, from the stress - god he left you in his bed, alone, naked and gleaming from your lovemaking.

Love making, it was love making.

You were his everything, and not once did he let you get treated or shown that way, what was just one time of worshipping your body when he didn’t worship or appreciate your soul? Your mind, your wishes, he barely knew you truly - he never gave you a chance to listen.

He hates himself.

He was going to kill them all, for a better world, but to lose the only important thing to him, in a room with two people who loved him?

What has he done?

“It’s not working.” He says then, worried as Shoko sighs, shaking her head.

“I need more time with her, her body is already in a rough state.”

“What rough state!?”

“She has a weak will, and she needs to have some will to make it through this.”

A weak will, because of him, he fucking knows it too- it’s all him that did this, that caused it, he wants to blame Satoru for putting you in danger, but it’s ultimately his fault. You begged him to stay despite having been forced into this, despite the horrible things he said and did to you, despite it all you still asked him. You still tried to break through, almost meeting your end.

You awaken suddenly with a gasp, sitting up, staring at an unfamiliar but pretty face of a woman in scrubs, a stethoscope around her neck. She smiles gently, you feel two men’s hands on you, Satoru’s holding one hand, Suguru the other, both staring up at you now.

“I’m sorry I put you in harm.” Satoru’s words are full of remorse, one of his eyes staring up at you, glimmering. “It was the only way but…”

“It’s okay. I chose to, it was the right thing.” He exhales in relief, as you look to Suguru now, torn between anger, relief and fear. “Suguru…”

“I ended the battle.” It’s all relief now, as you clutch him tightly, and all the love in your eyes makes him even more sick, how could you love him?

“It worked.”

“It was foolish, reckless-”

“You are not about to lecture her right now on being reckless.” Suguru scowls at Satoru’s words.

“Let’s talk while Shoko checks her out.” Suguru’s words are surprisingly soft, a way you’ve only heard a couple times, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Satoru and Suguru walk to the other end of the enormous room, footsteps echoing while Shoko murmurs softly. “I’m Ieri.”

“Thank you for… saving me, Ieri.” Your own quiet name makes her smile a bit, as she looks at Satoru and Suguru. “They were your friends, weren’t they?”

“Hmm, I guess they were. Let me check this heart rate, okay?” You nod, eyeing the two quiet men, as your disoriented mind and sore body process what happened.

“I know you owe me no favors, Satoru… but can I ask for one?” Satoru frowns now, leaning against the wall, as you sit up with Shoko’s help and speak quietly.

“You stopped the attack, if you’re willing to give this up, I’ll do you any favor.” He says, making Suguru sigh.

He doesn’t deserve you.

He doesn’t deserve Satoru.

He deserves no happiness for what he’s done, the horror in your eyes, the fear of the unknown, the baby just barely growing that surely would not survive with him near you. You look at him across the room, with those sad, broken eyes - he’d never made you happy, not once - yet you truly tried. You begged him to fucking stay and what did he do, what did he cause?

“I am taking Mimiko and Nanako far away.” Satoru’s blue eyes widen now.

“And your wife, yes?

“No.”

“Suguru, are you fucking serious, what more does the girl have to do to be with you!? She almost died to save you, not just everyone.” Satoru’s voice is a hushed whisper, eyes narrowed.

“That’s just it, I’m no good for her, or the baby if it… makes it. Chances are with me and how devastated I make her, it won't.”

“Suguru, she will forgive you.” Satoru puts a hand on his former best friend’s shoulder, coated in blood, and Suguru doesn’t shove it off, he takes a breath instead, shaking his head.

“She will, and so will you, but I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve her and I never did.”

“So become the man she needs, you’re not too-”

Suguru laughs harshly, taking Satoru’s hand off now, holding it for a moment, a million memories of their friendship falling as his hand falls. “Both of you make excuses, but I see what I did to her.”

“She’ll be okay, Shoko-”

“She’ll never be okay. Satoru, I have to ask you…”

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking run, seriously!?” Suguru yanks him out of the room, out of your earshot now, Satoru crosses his arms, as the door echoes in the cold empty halls of the abandoned building they’d shielded Shoko in.

“Take care of her.” At Suguru’s broken words, tears feeling once cold eyes, Satoru falters, lips parting. “Take care of the baby if it… makes it.”

He glares, shoving at his old friend, who’s too down to not let him budge with the movement, forlorn look on his face. “You take care of them, become better.”

Suguru shakes his head. “I can’t face her. I can’t face what I’ve done, I need to go. Far, far away.”

“For how long!?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever come back. I know it’s a lot to ask - but I also know I can trust you to take care of her.” Satoru’s furious, not at the thought of taking care of you, but the fact that Suguru is running, that he still even now can’t accept love. “You will take care of her better than I could.”

“You think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re not. She chose to come here, can’t you give her a chance?” Suguru peers through the door window, the thick pane of glass, sighing and touching it longingly, while Shoko checks your vitals.

“Please, for the friendship we had, take care of her. The girl I love.” Satoru’s own emotions make his throat close, while Suguru realizes just how deeply he loves you, more than he even could admit. But he didn’t choose you, no matter how deeply you begged him to, no he left you alone in that bed.

He can’t forgive himself for it.

He is not sure he cares about any other casualties, he wishes he did care more for that - he still sees humans as pests, he does not share Satoru’s view and maybe never will. But you so clearly need him to, and he realizes he’s too far in his own hatred still, you were that exception, that bright spot. You were the one regret he now holds, and he knows he loves you enough to let you go.

“Please look after her for me, Satoru.”

“Jesus christ, Suguru.” He swipes a hand through his long white hair, looking at you in that room, sighing. “Of course I will take care of her and the baby. But it should not be me.”

“Thank you.” Suguru puts his hand on Satoru’s shoulder, and for a moment Satoru sees him - the best friend he ever had, making what he thinks is the best decision for a girl he loves. He loves and feels, still deep down, and something breaks Satoru down then. “I went too far.”

He scoffs at that, sighing. “Understatement of the century. I will not tell her goodbye for you, though. You need to at least explain your stupid decision.”

Satoru walks back into the room, looking down at you now, you’re weak but alive, and he still senses two energies with his powerful six eyes. He gently holds out his hands, and you take them, using his help to stand, shaky now. “Are you feeling okay, sweets?”

“I’m okay.” You nod a smile just a bit, turning to Shoko. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. We’ll… give you two a moment.” She reads the room clearly, Satoru and Shoko have known each other so long it really just takes a look.

You watch curiously as they walk out, and Suguru has tears in his violet eyes, something you never thought you’d see, his face so serious and sullen it makes you panic. “Did they say the baby-”

“No, no, for now it all looks fine. Shh.” He pulls you against his strong chest, and you fall apart, sobbing now, shaking your head and shoving at him. “I know.”

“You know!? You know? You left me. You chose this over me.” You pull back, furious, chest heaving with the quickness of your breaths, your own cheeks covered in your tears now.

“I did. And that’s why I’m no good for you.”

You pause now, gasping. “What!?”

“It was selfish, so selfish not to let you run when you wanted to.” You’re shaking as he cups your face, thumb tracing your cheek, brushing aside the onslaught of tears, exhaling and leaning low. “I almost killed you.”

“You didn’t almost kill me, you almost killed everyone! Suguru, I’m fine.”

“Tch, are you!?” His grip on your waist draws you closer, while your head falls back, and you stare into a monster’s eyes - a monster you love. “Are you fine? You almost died.”

“I chose to come here, you can’t blame Satoru when I begged him to bring me. I had to try to save them, those innocent people!”

“It worked.”

You sigh, shaking further, burying your face against his chest, he’s covered in sweat and grime and blood from the battle, but you don’t care. “Are you done with this foolish effort?”

“I’m done.” You look up in shock, cupping his face now, and he leans so low, until your breaths mingle, hand shaking as it holds you.

“Thank God. Oh Suguru, thank God.” You pull him down for a kiss, full of all the relief in your heart. You’ve saved him, everyone is okay - glimpses of hope and something beautiful fill you with a light you’ve never had. He kisses you back so deeply, exhaling against your lips, deepening it and pulling you so tightly, his hard body enveloping yours.

“I should have told you.” He whispers, pulling back, lips almost against yours, nose brushing against yours.

You gulp, throat dry, in so much fear of what he’s going to say, what he’s going to do. “Told me what?”

“I love you. Fuck I love you, love when you hit me, love when you called me out, love the fire inside you.” His declaration makes your heart shatter, you want to be happy, but you feel it - his apprehension, his fear.

“Suguru…”

“I love you and don't deserve you.”

You glare now. “Don’t you do this, don’t you run.”

“Baby, this is how I can show how much I love you.” He cups your face with two big hands and long fingers, you’re glaring through your tears, gripping his wrists.

“Don’t you dare.” You whisper, teeth clenched, you feel it then, you feel him pushing you away, when he’s just close enough.

“Satoru will take care of you both, better than I could, he’ll be good to you-”

“What!? You’re shoving me off on your fucking friend?” You shove at his chest now, but he doesn’t budge, even as you smack at it, he doesn’t move, doesn’t let go of his grip. “If you love me you’ll run away with me, we can start over.”

The desperation in your voice tempts him to no end, god he’d love it, but he knows how much you’d suffer, always. “I am leaving, starting over.”

“Not with me?” Your hurt pours through every word, and Suguru wants to bring you, god he does, but he knows it so clearly - he could never make you happy.

“You’ll be better off this way. You and the baby.”

“Bullshit, it’s such bullshit Suguru!”

“It’s the truth, I love you enough to finally do this.” He brushes your hair back tenderly, you smack his hand scowling up at him.

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to abandon me after not choosing me - just to not choose me again!”

“It’s not that,” your sobs wrack your body, as he steps back, brushing back his tangled dark locks. “I am choosing your happiness.”

“Why can’t it be with you?” Your broken whisper makes his heart break, but he loves you so much, he just knows.

This is right.

“I can’t look you in those beautiful eyes and know what pain I caused, I can’t have you looking at the monster I am.”

“You’re my fucking monster, okay? Mine!” You shove him again, he just sighs, defeated. “I love you Suguru Geto. I do, despite it all, despite how completely fucked in the brain you were, I love you dammit. You can’t just leave me now, like I’m some damn pet you can’t take care of. I love-”

He’s slammed his lips again, desperate and hungry, and you fall into him, as his kisses grow more and more ardent, pulling back just to take a breath, hand slipping up your spine. The contact alone makes you shiver, tongue meeting his stroke for stroke, so much emotion in this one kiss you wish it would last forever, fingers clinging to the silk of his robes.

“Don’t do this. I can only forgive so much.” He sighs at that, as you’re sniffling, eyes fucking burning.

“You’ll thank me one day, if we meet again - how happy you’ll be without me.” He breaks away then, as you crumble, holding your stomach while the sobs seem fucking endless.

“Don’t leave me, please, not again, I can’t take it.” He looks back at you as he stands by that door, pulled between being selfish and selfless.

But only for a moment.

“I’ll love you till I take my last breath. You’re not just human, you are the most special thing that’s existed.” You collapse to the floor while he walks out, the world collapsing around you, the hope you had for just a moment crushed.

He will never choose you.

“Suguru go the fuck back in there, stop feeling sorry for yourself, what are you doing to that girl?” Satoru shoves at him then, but Suguru knows it, he can’t live with himself let alone be with you, cause you pain, ruin you further.

“A moment of pain in order to be free of me. She thinks she’s in love with me now, but it’s because of her being trapped. She just thinks she does, but I don’t deserve it, not worthy of it.”

“You don’t think you deserve it, so earn it. Just stop this bullshit.”

“Satoru, thank you for not… giving up. But I can’t live with what I did, seeing it in her eyes every day. Please, just care for her.” Satoru glares and crosses his arms.

“Running away. You’re just running away.”

“Good bye, Satoru.” Suguru is gone, just like that, leaving Satoru to punch the wall in anger, and of course it starts crumbling with his strength, you gasp out in shock at the sound and he curses, resting his head for a moment.

He almost had his best friend back.

He walks in to see you so small and helpless in the big room on the floor, holding yourself in a hug, devastating to look at, when your eyes meet his. Satoru walks up to you then, sitting right on the ground, his legs crossed, brushing his fingers comfortingly against your shoulder. You’re shaking so badly, skin hot to the touch, he can even hear how fast your heart was.

“Sit up, sweetheart.” You do it with his help, you feel weak and devastated beyond repair, while he pulls you against his chest, holding you to him, letting you cry against his dark jacket, rubbing your back up and down.

“You don’t have to take care of me, S-satoru okay, I c-can do it alone. I have family that may understand-”

“No.” His word is firm, precise, you tilt your head up and look into brilliant blue eyes, lips pressed together. “I promised him and I won’t break it.”

“I’ll just be some burden to you. It’s bullshit, him leaving, bullshit.”

“Yeah. I know. But I will take care of you. Okay?” You shake your head, sniffling now. “I will.”

“I believe you, but how could he? After… I told him I loved him.” Satoru tenderly brushes your cheek, swiping some of your tears.

“He doesn’t believe he deserves it from either of us.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Satoru sighs.

“I don’t know. But for now, come on.” He stands carefully, picking your still weak body in his arms.

“I can walk.”

“You’re stubborn, aren’t you?” Your lips barely twitch, as you hold onto his neck.

“I guess so. I’m sorry you’re just stuck with-”

“Shh, it’s fine. Let’s get you somewhere you can rest.”

*****

One year later

You lay your little girl Noa down in her crib for the night, smiling as you touch her precious cheek, and Satoru leans in the doorway, smiling at the two of you. Her dark locks resemble her father, but aside from that she’s a spitting image of you. You look up at Satoru as you put a finger to your lips, signaling for him to be quiet, and he crooks his two fingers, asking you to come out.

“You can have a little wine now, she’s on formula mostly now, right?” He murmurs, as he takes your hand in his, and you pause - because it feels too good lately. God, he looks too good, after a year of living with him, having him hold you, hold your baby.

Satoru was literally her father, he helped you constantly, and you never paid for a thing, despite your frequent protests. Satoru went above and beyond anything you assumed when he promised Suguru that day - and the two of you have never talked to him since. The last Satoru found out, he moved to another country with the two girls, and the rest of the cult silently disbanded.

You miss Suguru every day, but Satoru slowly fills the void, the huge black hole he left when he abandoned you that day, and though you’ll always love Suguru Geto, as well Satoru, clearly, you also feel more and more for the man taking care of you. Even though you’ve fought it, for months after the baby it changed, how attractive you find him, hating yourself for it.

How can you pine away for a man never coming back?

But how can you move on after a love like that?

But you don’t realize Satoru can’t stop craving you, aching for you - also feeling fucking horrible. Suguru asked him to take care of you, and it was like he knew he would also grow to love you, but for different reasons than Suguru. He loves how funny, sarcastic and sweet you are. He loves how much you adore your little girl, and he loves her too.

He loves how you smile, how your cheeks get warm when he presses a friendly kiss on them, how the lights hit your pretty face. How sweet your scent is, how easy it is to be with you. Cooking together, taking care of Noa, just existing, you bring peace he didn’t know existed, as Satoru feels like a real home to you.

Satoru can’t imagine not coming home to the two of you, sometimes missions can last weeks, but you’re ready with a perfect meal and his favorite dessert. You’re always so happy when he comes home, hugging him tightly. The two of you hold each other, talking about Suguru at times, and how much you miss him, how much Satoru misses him.

Once last week you were crying, he had you against his chest, tilting your chin up, whispering the sweetest words. You felt all those body changes, the stretch marks, the extra skin, but he told you - ‘you’re gorgeous, okay?’ and you’d faltered, you almost kissed him, if not for your little girl crying.

You both had avoided each other that night after, he’d blushed furiously, as had you, but that was when something shifted, and the need grew more and more. Now looking at your joined hands, longing breaks through, but along with that so much confusion.

Could you be with someone else?

His best friend, that he left you with, did Suguru… expect this? Or would he be devastated, or would he even care? Did he keep tabs on you and the daughter he abandoned - for what he felt were the right reasons - or was it something he shoved far back. At times you were furious at Suguru for it, at times distraught, but sometimes you realize your life has become happy.

“Sorry…” Satoru pulls back now, that pink on his high cheeks again, but you take his hand back, shaking your head.

“I can drink a little wine, I’d enjoy some.” You smile and he exhales in relief, leading you down just one set of his elegant staircase. Satoru lived in a whole mansion honestly. But it still felt homey, it wasn’t like Suguru’s…

Suguru.

You loved him.

He left you.

And the man across from you pouring wine in your glass is beautiful, with his soft sweater and freshly washed hair, tousled just so, blue eyes soft as they study you carefully, you’re falling more, day by day. It’s not the insane madness, the brutal craziness of Suguru, it was something soft and sweet and beautiful.

“Want to watch our show?” He asks, and you nod, taking the glass from his fingers, they softly brush each other, sending trembles through the both of you, while your eyes lock, fingers staying there a moment too long. “Taste it.”

You take a breath, putting the sweet red wine to your lips, moaning at how good it is, a little drop on the corner of your mouth that he swipes away gently. You pause, as he stands there, leaning low, the huge house so quiet, your heart pounding in your chest, blood rushing to your head.

“Sorry.” He says again, clearing his throat, but you set the glass down, stepping up to him, so close, too close. Satoru’s hands ache to touch you, his lips die to touch yours. “Everything okay?”

“No. It’s not.” You sigh, hands slipping up his soft sweater, under that material, touching his bare chest and feeling it tense, a soft growl from his throat, when his hand entangles in your hair then.

“Keep touching me like that, and I will lose it.” His firm words, when he’s usually so sweet, just make you more excited, tummy flipping, clenched with desire.

“Lose what?” You touch him again, and his breath quickens, as he leans even lower, stepping you back, bit by bit, lips so close while you’re being pressed until the back of your knees hit the couch.

“The control. I can’t take you touching me.” He grips your wrists, and you turn him then, pressing him on the couch, straddling him, he gasps, as your own control fades to nothing. “You’re pushing me around, huh?”

“Maybe I am, Toru.” The nickname ruins him, as your lips crash against his, for the first time - and it feels far too good.

You never knew if you’d feel good again, the endless nights of crying for the man that left you, not once but twice, that put so much ahead of you, only to not even choose his baby, his friend, you. But you don’t hold resentment, no you still love that man, the one who ran from you all, but you feel good, Satoru’s lips are perfect, and for once you can let it go.

Just in this moment, let it all go, nothing but how perfect Satoru’s tongue feels against yours, as he’s so gently holding back. You’re grinding on him, earning his throaty moan, soaking wet when you feel his length, god you want him. You can’t stop it anymore, wanting the man who does everything for you and Noa, despite knowing how deeply connected he is to Suguru.

“God, I’ve wanted you,” Satoru’s kissing up your neck, as a hand grips your breast so gently, like he’s scared to hurt you, lips hovering on the shell of your ear now. “Tell me to stop, tell me I’m a bad friend.”

You shake your head, taking a breath. “You’re not, look at how good you take care of…. mmm, us… ah!” He’s nipped your ear with his teeth, moaning as he does, the sound igniting something inside you laid dormant.

“He shouldn’t have asked me.” He pulls back, a serious look on his face. “Now I’ve fallen, and fuck if I can stop if we go any further.”

You cup his face now, arching your hips just so, making him whimper softly, snowy lashes lowered as your heat hits him, rushing across his cock in those sweats now. His hands slip down to them, as he presses kisses on your breasts, swollen just a bit still from the baby, tempting him to no end.

“I’ve only… with him.” He pauses, blinking up at you in surprise, and you feel yourself flustered at admitting it.

“Shit that makes it worse for me to do.”

“It’s not… I… just wanted to tell you. I’m not the most experienced at certain things.” He nods then, swallowing, pressing up and watching your head fall back, making him throb harder with need.

“It’s been a year for me, so it’s been a bit, okay?” You blink in shock.

“You haven’t with…”

“How can I?” You’re kissing him more desperately now, feeling your body respond to every touch, every kiss, every brush.

“Please.” Your whisper ruins Satoru, he’s felt himself lose the will to stop, to rationalize it, but he can’t find rationale with you.

“Then we take it slow for you.” He lifts you off him, laying your back on that couch now, fingers trailing so delicately, it’s not rough, angry, brutal, it’s like he’s softly mapping your body, inch by inch, until he runs them up your thigh, parting them. “But make your decision, sweetheart, I won’t be able to stop.” His desperation is felt with every quick breath of yours, cunt growing slicker.

“I want you, Satoru… I have for… a long time.” He exhales, sliding down your body, sweet kisses on your thighs, thumb pressing your panties, and you cry out, covering your face then.

“She can’t hear you from down here, let go. Feel.” He’s kissing your thighs higher, hungrier as he slips down your shorts, tossing them, lapping at your soaked panties with his tastebuds, while blue eyes look up under hooded lids.

“Satoru!” You’re gripping his hair, so tightly it hurts, while he tastes it, the sweetness he’s been dying to for most of the time you’ve lived here. He fought it, so hard, but how can he not want you? When you look like that, feel like that, taste like this, it’s making him fucking feral, losing his strong control. “Sorry!”

“No, pull it.” He pulls your panties aside, studying your pretty pussy, you shyly almost cover your tummy a bit when he pauses you. “You’re beautiful, you were beautiful pregnant too.”

“Oh I, ah!” He’s parted them now, pressing a kiss to your bare, glistening cunt, and your body relaxes, while his hand covers your tummy.

“I thought it was so sexy pregnant, couldn’t say it.” He shakes his head, while tears of emotion and desire fill, he makes you feel so beautiful, so desired then.

The only time Suguru had done that was the last time.

One last time.

It feels so far away, so different, but you feel it in your heart - you love Satoru, you still love Suguru - fuck, Satoru loves Suguru still. But you both have to finally let him go, just a bit, and together you both do, as he’s delving into your slick, gummy walls with his long, talented tongue, all while studying you, so careful, watching every movement of your body.

There are no ‘i hate yous’ and there is no anger.

You just want him, and want him so badly.

You hate yourself for it, but at the same time, you deserve to feel loved, to feel happy, devoted as Satoru worships you, freely. He’s flicking his tongue on your clit in quick, sure flicks, as his long fingers sink in your eager cunt, hitting your g spot with just enough pressure you feel your orgasm taking you over.

“Satoru, oh my god I’m…”

“Cum, let me sip you sweetheart, that’s it.” He encourages softly, and you do, gushing all over his pretty face, he kisses you then, your taste swathed on his lips, desperate as you slip off his pants, stroking his thick, long cock, watching him whine over you. “Are you still sure?” He asks once more, tip against your entrance.

“I want this.” He exhales in relief, a hand entwining with yours as he sinks inside of you, no pain just a delicious fucking stretch, that has you screaming out, so loud he kisses you.

“Maybe not that loud, hmm?” He smirks, and you giggle - fuck you giggle all the time with him, don’t you? A far cry from the sad, depressed girl you were.

“Sorry, f-feels s’good…” He moans now, feeling your walls grip his cock, and he can’t take it, shoving your thighs up high, you gasp as he does, sinking deeper, tip against your cervix. He’s slow, letting you feel every fucking inch, as you spasm around him so close again.

“I’d love to put a baby in you, don’t you see, I’m horrible.” He rests his head on yours as his huge hands press up your thighs, and you gasp, clinging to the couch desperately as he works you. “I want all of you. I shouldn’t.”

He shouldn’t, right?

But how can he not.

He loves you.

With every stroke, kiss and whisper, you fall apart, dropping the last of your barriers for him, feeling the peak closer and closer. “You want that, Satoru?”

“God yes. You are so p-pretty pregnant, fuck… I shouldn’t have thought all those things…”

“Tell me.” Your whisper ends him, he’s slamming his cock, covering your mouth as your eyes roll back.

“Wanted you then, tits swollen, tummy so full, all I could think of was how I wanted to suck these pretty nipples, drink up all that milk from them.” He lets your thighs fall, they squeeze his hips, when he kisses a breast, bowing his back to do so, and your hands press into his strong biceps, as you whine out. “I’ve wanted you, sweetheart. Now I want you to cum on me.”

You’re done, with one more roll of his hips, you’re cumming so hard you can’t keep quiet, he’s gotta put that hand back on your mouth, watching your eyes roll back in your skull. He whispers as the orgasm rides over you ‘that’s it, sweets, there you go, so pretty’ as he presses kisses, letting you cum down, until he fills you up himself, so much cum.

He hasn’t been with anyone in a year.

How could he be, when you lived here?

You’re cumming with him again, tears falling as you kiss him, and he pulls back, frowning with worry. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m just really happy, Satoru.” Your tremulous smile ends him, and soon you’re in his bed, in his arms as he presses kisses on your shoulder. He sighs, addressing the silent thoughts while you both stare out his window at the night sky.

“Do you think he knew I’d fall in love with you?” You frown a bit, looking back at him now, your hand tightening over his.

“I don’t know. But Satoru, I love you too.” He kisses you softly, nuzzling your noses together. “You still love Suguru.”

“And so do you.” You nod then, and he swallows a bit, smiling now. “That’s okay, it’s okay to still love him.”

“Even though he’s an emo bitch?” Satoru snorts, as do you, through your emotions.

“Even though he’s emo enough for a whole 2006 band by himself.”

“With a god complex.”

“Well… I have that too.”

“I have curious taste.” He chuckles, and you turn in his embrace, brushing his soft white locks back, kissing him again, until the two of you fall back into each other, the entire night.

*****

Two years since you saw or heard from Suguru Geto

Suguru swallows nervously as he knocks on his old friend’s door - wondering if you still lived there. He was sure Satoru moved you in, why wouldn’t he? He knows you were in good hands, surely, but finally, he feels it - the draw to come back. He doesn’t expect you to forgive him, but he wants to see you, and to see his child for the first time.

He wonders, was it a boy or girl?

The door opens, and he expects his friend, only to have to look down at that face that’s haunted his dreams, his thoughts for two years. Your eyes are wide when you see him, as if you’ve seen a fucking ghost, and maybe he was to you, your mouth open wide as he hears giggling, tinkling like a little bell.

“Get here, you little brat!” Satoru’s laughing, running after a quick little girl with chubby arms flailing, and Suguru sees her then.

His daughter.

He looks back to you, opening his mouth to say something, anything, when he gazes at your body, and sees the changes.

You’re pregnant.

Satoru stops and picks up the little girl, grinning at you before he sees Suguru, then his own eyes widen, while the little girl just giggles waving at Suguru, not knowing who he was. How could she? His heart breaks into pieces when he sees her perfect face, she looks just like you, aside from already long black hair, silky and tied up in a cute little pony tail.

She’s precious, she’s perfect.

He feels it, what’s been missing, when he manages a little smile at her, and Satoru steps closer, while you’re still stunned, as you see him. You never thought you’d see him again, this past year has been spent living your life with Satoru and your daughter, and then you’d found out you were expecting. Satoru was oddly traditional, putting a ring on your finger one day.

‘You’re kind of married to my best frenemy but this will do for now’

He’d said it so casually you’d giggled, as he carried you to the room, the lovemaking was endless between you, but moreso it was the friendship- a beautiful friendship, truly. A partnership built on mutual love of Suguru at first, but of course it blossomed, until you were each other’s world, though you saw Suguru every day in your daughter.

Two years. No word.

He looks different, he’s slimmer and less buff, his hair is shorter and tied up, and he has some dark circles, but he’s as handsome as you remember. He clears his throat a bit now, rubbing the back of his neck, gone was the insanely commanding man, and replaced was one just a little unsure.

Your heart splits in half.

“Suguru, come in.” Satoru’s words surprise him, as he looks at you again, your hand on your tummy.

Is this how you looked pregnant with his daughter?

“Please come in, Suguru.” You whisper, and he nods, trying to placate a smile on his face as everything threatens him, to yank you in his arms, kiss you, press you against that wall. To tell you how badly he’s craved it, your taste, your moans, your pretty sighs, how he’s not stopped thinking of you.

But you’ve moved on, it’s clear as day with your bump growing, with how your daughter calls Satoru ‘papa’ then. He wants to be furious, but he caused it, he shoved you right into Satoru’s arms, and knew he’d fall for you, just like Suguru did. How could anyone not love you.

“Hi! Hi!” The girl says, and Suguru smiles at her, stepping closer, as she cups his cheek with her little hand.

“Hi there. I’m your parents… very distant best friend.” His soft declaration eats you alive, as you and Satoru eye each other for a moment.

“Play! Play!” Suguru chuckles, you’re not sure you really ever heard that from him, unless it was dark, mocking.

“Let’s give them a minute to catch up, clean up for dinner. You staying for dinner, Suguru?” Satoru asks, so casually as if they were just old friends, and Suguru almost breaks down.

He doesn’t deserve to be invited in.

He didn’t deserve either of your love.

“If you’d like me to.” He directs the question to you, and you nod a little, smiling tremulously.

“Please do.”

“Then it’s settled, be back sweetheart.” Satoru plants a kiss right on your lips, and you melt just a bit, before tensing, glaring at Satoru as he grins. “What?”

“You’re ridiculous!” He just chuckles, winking as he takes her to get cleaned up, leaving you with Suguru, who’s scowling at his retreating figure.

“He’s as annoying as ever.” You burst into laughter, before it turns to tears, and Suguru falters, holding a hand up, hovering near your cheek. “Fuck, I… I am so sorry I left. I’m sorry for it all.”

“It’s okay, just please, stay for dinner. Let us see you again. Let her meet you, please.” You’re a mess, and he hugs you against his chest now, feeling your tummy nudge him, your breasts against his chest, a mix of fury and understanding, longing and loathing.

“Are you happy?” His question is simple.

You are happy.

But you missed him, fuck you missed him. But now…

“Suguru um, I…” You sigh, holding his hand, stepping back just a bit, and his other hand brushes aside your tears. “I’m happy with Satoru. I love him. I know you must hate me for saying this-”

“No.” He puts a finger to your lips, pausing, looking just how beautiful they are, how beautiful you are, you always were. “I saw how he looked at you the day you met, I knew this would happen.”

“Then why!? Then why!” You pull back, shaking your head, and Suguru looks away, jaw clenching.

“I knew he’d make you happy and I couldn’t. And I loved you enough to let you have it.” Your heart is shattered into a million pieces, the baby kicks in response and you cry out just a bit. “Calm down, please…”

“I just don’t get it, I don’t get you Suguru, maybe I never will. Are you back or just… visiting?” You’re swiping at your own tears.

“I’m here for a bit. I came to see you both. Well… all three of you.” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. “Your daughter, she’s beautiful.”

“Her name is Noa.” You say, and Suguru can’t stop the smile from growing, brushing your hair off your shoulder.

“Love?”

“Love.” You touch his hand with a small smile. “Please stay for dinner, and… just talk.”

“I kind of want to kill Satoru even more than before.”

“Wanna take this outside then?” Satoru’s cocky grin meets Suguru’s eye roll - and you know this memory well from Satoru’s tales - of a basketball game with the two of them, over ten years ago now. But you see it.

They still love each other, even though Satoru has you against his side, possessive hand on your waist, and Suguru’s violet eyes glare a bit. “You took my wishes a little too far.”

“Should’ve been more specific, less emo.”

“Satoru I swear-”

“Hi, hi! Up, up!” Noa runs to Suguru, surprising Satoru and you both, as the little girl really only loves you two.

Suguru leans down, picking her up in his arms, grinning bigger than you’ve ever seen, as you barely hold it together, Satoru’s hand soothing on your back, pressing a kiss on your temple. “You’re mine, you know.” He whispers in your ear.

“Possessive, hmm?” You smile up at him, and he sighs, looking over at his friend and his daughter.

“Very, but… it’s nice to have him home.” Satoru’s words are only meant for your ears, as you glance at a man you loved, a toxic man - one who made horrible decisions - but you see it, his change, his genuine adoration of Noa then. And you look back at the other man you love, so deeply, and something about it…

Feels perfect.

Now if you read this after I warned you, I'll hear no complaining aha - if you're reading both, happy Suguru end will be VERY soon. If you just wanted the sad ending, I hope you enjoyed. It's bittersweet <3 This is how I intended it to end but so many ppl fell for our cult leader I'll have his own version. Ty for reading this~ if it's your chosen end, see you in my other ficsss!

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#suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #SatoSugu x reader ???#maybe lol #geto angst #jjk angst #jjk arranged marriage #jjk x reader #satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk geto #cult leader geto #divider by strangergraphics

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uluvjay · 26 days ago

Text

Needy-L. Norris

Lando Norris x fem! Reader

Lando can be good at hiding his feelings and overthinking with his heart, but this time around he has you to show him how good it feels to be needed :)

Warnings?; slight angst, sad Lando, insecure Lando, hiding emotions, lots of reassurance, happy ending, sorry for any errors I missed. Ps this is VERY old but I found it and felt like it deserved to see the light!

He couldn’t help it, after years of his ex girlfriend telling him he could be to much and that he was so needy he alway backed himself into a corner when he felt like he was doing to much.

Technically you hadn’t shown any signs or given him any reason to believe that he was to much or to clingy but he just felt like he was.

His head told him to do it, told him he was spending too much time with you and that you needed a break from him. His heart raced anytime he thought about replying properly to you, ached when you were giving him quick and steady replies but he couldn’t man up and give you what you deserved.

His mother always did say he overthought with his heart.

“Baby?” He heard you call from the entryway of his apartment, you must have used the key he gave you.

“In my streaming room.” He replied.

“Are you streaming?” You asked before you entered the room, not quite in the mood to be on camera.

“No, just looking over this video for our Quadrant athletes announcement.” He spoke softly, turning in his chair to find you standing in the doorway. One of his hoodies swallowed you while you wore leggings and the crocs he always made fun of you for.

You smiled sweetly before entering the room, moving to stand beside his chair you ran a hand through his messy curls, leaning down to place a sweet kiss to his lips.

But when your lips touched his you couldn’t help but notice his lack of usual enthusiasm that’s there when you kiss him.

“What’s wrong?” You questioned.

“Nothing.” He mumbled, pulling his head from your grasp and standing up.

“Lando what’s going on? Did I do something to upset you?” You ask following him into his living room.

“What? no, why would you think that?” He scoffed.

“Because ever since I left on Monday you’ve been weird, giving my short and dry replies, cancelled dinner last night. I just thought that maybe I did something to upset you while I was here over the weekend.” You shrugged.

Shit he thought, this always happened. He got in his head, pushed people away, made them feel like they were the problem; when in reality it was him and his issues.

“No-No you didn’t do anything, it’s just me and my stupid emotions.” He shook his head voice rough as he sat on the sectional in his living room.

The sight made your chest ache, his head in his hands he looked frustrated and upset, guilty over something you couldn’t place.

You hated when he spoke of himself like this, spoke like his emotions weren’t important, as if how he felt was Irrelevant.

Typically you only saw this after a bad race weekend, when he didn’t drive how he wanted and the medias cruel words got to him and made him think less of himself.

“Lan, talk to me honey. What’s going in that head of yours?” You questioned softly moving to sit next to him on the lush cushions.

He shook his head in dismissal ready to get up and hide away, hide his emotions like he always did, watch from afar as he was once again left for not opening up.

But none of his past girlfriends understood how he felt, they all thought men should be manly and that men shouldn’t feel, men shouldn’t be held and cuddled.

And while you’d never acted that way towards him and had never made him feel like he was to much, he couldn’t help the way he reverted back to his usual ways.

However this time as he looked up at you he found your eyes full of nothing but concern, your eyebrows creased in confusion as you looked at him like all you wanted to do was help him.

And for the first time ever Lando found himself opening up to a girlfriend or anyone for that matter about this particular feeling.

“I’m just a lot you know? The busy schedule, constant travel, always wanting to be close to you when I can, the way I get emotional, how I like to be held and kissed? How i constantly apologize for literally nothing? How I pour my rants about the team onto you? That’s a lot for you and I shouldn’t put that all on you.” He explained with a sad shrug.

Your heart broke at the racers words, too much? The simple truth of being loved and cared for being seen as too much? Who had told your sweet boyfriend that?

“Lando-I do not think that you’re too much. I knew what I was signing up for with your schedule when we got together, if I didn’t want that I wouldn’t have said yes when you asked me out. And to be quite frank I like how cuddly and loving you are, it’s never to much when you love on me.” You spoke softly hand reaching to hold his shaking one’s.

He couldn’t help the way he flushed at the touch, “You don’t find me needy?”

“Needy? Baby no, and there’s not one damn thing wrong with being needy or wanted.” You laughed baffled by his words.

“I love when you curl up with your head in my lap and take a nap, I enjoy playing with your hair and cuddling you. My favorite way to wake up is when you kiss me awake-hell I even pretend I’m still sleeping sometimes just so you keep going, I love the way you hold me after you come back from a race weekend, and I love that you love to be around me. It makes me feel good and needed as well Lando.” You explained.

Lando felt ready to cry at the honesty in your words, the way you spoke to him like he meant something, like his wants and needs actually meant something.

“You really mean that?” He questioned quietly, so quiet that you almost didn’t hear it.

“I do, and you know why?”

“Why?” He raised a brow

“Because I love you, and I love loving you.” You smiled pulling the man in sealing your words with a kiss.

Lando felt ready to cry when you two pulled away, “I love you too.” He smiled.

“And thank you, I’ve never had anyone talk about me like that. In the past I’ve always been judged by girlfriends for the way I am, they’ve always told me I’m too needy for a man.” He sighed pitifully.

“Well I don’t think that, there’s nothing wrong with being needed or wanted Lando, and I’ll show you that for as long as you let me.”

“Yeah?” He asked and finally there was that sweet smile tugging at the corner of his lip.

“Yeah.” You nodded kissing him one last time before standing to your feel and holding a hand for him.

“Where are we going?”

“To cuddle, so I can show you how good it feels to be needed.”

Lando didn’t hesitate to stand after that, his hand wrapping around yours as you pulled him towards his room.

That night Lando realized as you allowed him to lay his head on your chest, fingers running through his tangled curls that this was okay. Loving hard was okay, wanting to be kissed and loved was okay.

And even though he was ‘needy’ it felt really really good to be needed and wanted by you.

#lando norris x you #lando norris edit #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #formula one fluff #formula one fic #f1blr #f1 x you #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #mclaren

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colouredbyd · 23 days ago

Text

“Tell Me You Will Believe Me”

poly!marauders x fem!reader

summary: Your visions as a Seer used to be harmless—until they turned dark. Now, you find yourself caught between protecting the people you love and the terrifying truth only you can see.

wc: 3.6k

warnings: emotional abuse, graphic violence, dark themes, angst, betrayal, emotional withdrawal, mental health struggles (anxiety, depression), trauma, past trauma, death of a loved one, remus being a sweetheart, visions of future tragedy, so much hurt/comfort, LOTS of angst but then happy ending <3

authors note: i should be studying but this idea has been on my mind for weeks so i decided to just write it, enjoy the major angst with comfort. Im trying to test my skills, idk should i do part 2 or leave the ending like this?

part 2 masterlist

It started slowly. Almost imperceptibly.

At first, you skipped breakfast. Said you’d meet them later in class. You didn’t.

Then you stopped holding Sirius’s hand in the hallways. Your fingers used to seek his like a reflex—lacing together as naturally as breath. Until one day, his hand brushed yours and you flinched, pretending not to notice. He didn’t say anything, just shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away.

You stopped waiting for James after class too. Where once you leaned against the wall with a playful grin, teasing him about being late, now you left as soon as the bell rang. “Thought you’d already gone,” you’d lie, when he showed up confused and breathless, eyes searching the corridor for you.

You started skipping Hogsmeade weekends, claiming migraines, unfinished essays, fatigue. “I’ll just stay in and rest,” you’d say, brushing kisses onto their cheeks like goodbyes. “You go. Have fun my love.”

They noticed, of course. The boys weren’t blind.

But you were clever.

You still smiled when spoken to. Still said “love you” back. Still sat beside them at meals—even if you barely touched your food, barely looked up, barely breathed. You learned how to be present without being there. An echo. A ghost in your own skin.

The boys watched you like you were slipping underwater, helpless to stop it.

One evening, James sat beside you on the Gryffindor common room couch, his voice low and joking, “You’ve got this whole ‘mysterious tragic poet’ thing going on lately baby. Should we be worried?”

You forced a laugh. “I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

He smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We miss you.”

“I’m right here, Jamie,” you whispered.

The smell of fire, of burning flesh. Someone’s laugh twists into a scream that ends too fast.

But you weren’t. Not really.

“Take her and RUN, Sirius!” Remus roars, storming forward and grabbing him by the collar, shoving him back like the fire behind him hasn’t already started swallowing everything whole. “NOW!”

There’s blood in Remus’s mouth when he speaks, on his hands when he clutches Sirius, on his temple where something struck too hard, too fast. His lips are trembling but his eyes are terrifying—brighter than the firelight. They burn with something final.

“Moony—” Sirius chokes, voice hoarse with panic, tears already rising. “I can’t—”

“THERE’S NO TIME!” Remus howls, like it’s killing him to say it. “You don’t look back. You don’t come back. You take her and you fucking run, do you hear me? You keep her safe—Sirius, please—

“Hey hey hey pretty girl, look at me breathe for me come on.”

Sirius’s voice breaks through your fog. He’s kneeling in front of you now, his dark eyes wide with concern. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Dorca and Peter are there too, hovering close by, their faces twisted in worry. They’re all looking at you, their concern thick in the air.

“Are you alright?” Remus asks, voice soft, but there’s something underlying—something urgent in his tone. He crouches beside you, his eyes searching for an answer you don’t have.

You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. You feel pathetic having a panic attack infront of everyone. The vision’s weight is still on your chest, pressing down on you, suffocating you. It feels like the whole world is closing in.

Sirius looks like he might reach for you, but he hesitates, as if afraid to touch you. The intensity of the moment hangs heavy in the air. “You’re scaring me princess.” he says quietly, eyes softening.

And for the first time in days, you feel something like a tremor in your chest—like the weight of their love, their worry, is finally sinking in.

“please just hold me.” you hiccup through sobs, your voice sounding too small, too fragile. But the words feel hollow in your mouth.

And they do, they hold you until you feel safe enough.

It was Remus who saw through it first.

He’d catch you staring into the fire too long. Flinching when the wind howled against the castle windows. He noticed your fingers trembling when you thought no one was looking. The way your hands hovered just above the boys’ shoulders when they leaned in—like you wanted to touch them, like you were afraid to.

“Are you alright, dove?” he whispered one night, his hand brushing your arm.

You blinked, startled. You hadn’t even noticed him sit beside you.

“Fine,” you said too quickly, too brightly. “Just tired.”

He didn’t believe you. He never did.

But he let you go.

After that, everything became quieter, not the visions though. They got worse, more clear, and more horrifying.

You stopped calling Sirius by his stupid nicknames. No more “Padfoot,” no more “Starboy.” Just “Sirius,” plain and clipped.

You forgot James’s birthday. The guilt nearly ate you alive, even as you watched him pretend not to be disappointed.

You stopped reading with Remus at night. Once, you’d fall asleep curled against his chest while he read aloud, voice soft and warm against your temple. Now, you claimed headaches. Stayed in your bed. Doors locked.

They started whispering when they thought you couldn’t hear.

“She doesn’t laugh anymore,” James murmured one night.

“I think she’s scared,” Sirius replied. “Of what, I don’t know.”

“Us?” Remus said quietly.

“They know. They know, James—run!” and then footsteps and a crash and nothing.

A golden ring in a pool of blood. The sound of Sirius sobbing into Remus’s shirt. “They said she was dead. They said—”

Remus’s breath on your neck. “Run.”

Smoke curling under a door you don’t recognize.

The sound of chains dragging across stone. Always the chains.

Blood on parchment.

Your name scrawled across it again and again and again.

You pretended you were asleep, but your pillow was wet.

Until one night, Sirius finally snapped.

You were halfway through dinner in the Great Hall when he slammed his goblet down and growled, “Alright, what the hell’s going on with you?”

You blinked, startled.

“You don’t look at us anymore,” he hissed. “You don’t touch us. You barely speak. If you want to leave, just say so, but stop pretending everything’s fine.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you said, voice breaking.

“You already have.”

And when you looked at him—really looked—you saw it: the shadow of his future, the one you’d dreamed a hundred times. Screaming behind bars. Eyes hollow.

You turned away. “Please. Just let it go.”

And he did. Because even angry, Sirius would always choose you. Always love you, even when it tore him apart.

Then weeks turned into a month.

Then a month turned into two.

And you kept fading—slowly, quietly, like death by a thousand unspoken words.

Until Remus couldn’t take it anymore.

Until that night in the library when he found you curled into yourself like a broken star, and you shattered in his arms and told him everything.

You were in the library at nearly midnight—eyes hollow, curled in the farthest back corner like you were trying to vanish into the stone.

You didn’t hear Remus at first.

But suddenly, he was there—standing in front of you, pale and shaking, with something desperate in his eyes.

“You’re done hiding.”

His voice trembled. You looked up, startled.

“I tried to give you space,” he said quietly. “I tried to trust you. Its been two months and 4 days (Y/n). I can’t anymore. You’re fading right in front of me. And I don’t care how much you lie and pretend you’re okay—you’re not.”

You stood too fast, the chair scraping behind you. “Please, just let it go rem.”

“No, dammit!” he snapped. “You shut us out. You stopped letting us love you. You look at James like you’re already mourning him. You look at Sirius like he’s glass. And you haven’t looked at me like anything in weeks.”

Your hands were shaking. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t want protection, I want you!” he shouted.

The silence that followed was deafening.

His eyes were glistening. “Tell me what’s happening. Even if it hurts. Even if it ruins everything. Please.”

You stared at him, throat tightening, vision blurring.

Remus’s hands trembled as they gently cupped your face, his eyes searching yours for answers. The weight of everything was pressing down on him now, and he could feel the tension in your body, the way you were holding yourself back.

“Please, just tell me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, pleading. “I need to know, I need to understand what’s happening to you.”

You closed your eyes, tears brimming, throat tight with the truth you couldn’t bear to say. You’d been holding it in for so long, the fear, the guilt. It was all too much.

“Tell me you will believe me,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “Please. Tell me you will believe me.”

Remus’s breath hitched at your words, his grip on your face tightening slightly as if to pull you closer to him, as if to anchor himself to you. His heart was racing now, but his voice was steady. “I will,” he promised, his voice raw with desperation. “I believe you. I always will.”

You sank to the floor, legs giving out, and he followed, arms catching you before you could crumble completely. And then, for the first time in weeks, you told someone the truth.

“I’ve been having visions.”

He froze, but didn’t speak.

The words hung in the air between you like a spell. You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t face his eyes yet. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, but then Remus exhaled like he had been holding his breath too, his hands moving to hold yours tightly.

“What do you mean? Visions?” His voice was filled with concern, but there was something else there—something dark, like he already knew this wasn’t just a simple problem. This wasn’t something you could brush off with a shrug and a laugh.

You pulled your hands away, holding them against your chest, as if protecting yourself from the storm you knew was about to break.

“It’s like—I see things. Fragments. Pieces. But they’re never in order, Remus.” Your voice broke, and you cursed yourself for sounding so weak, for not being able to keep it together just a little longer. “Sometimes, I’m in them. Sometimes, I’m not. But it’s always horrible. Always the same. It’s—it’s the end, Remus. The end of all of us.”

Remus’s eyes never left you. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t say a word, but his face twisted with confusion and concern, his brow furrowed like he was trying to make sense of the puzzle you were handing him.

“The night we’re all going to die,” you continued, your throat raw. “I’ve seen it, over and over again. I—I see James… He’s screaming. I see Sirius… He’s… he’s not himself. And you’re—” You stopped yourself, unable to finish the sentence, the emotion too raw to put into words. “You’re not there. You’re gone, Remus. And it’s my fault.”

Remus’s face went pale as he absorbed what you were saying, his jaw tightening with the weight of your words. He reached out, his fingers grazing your arm, but you jerked back, your heart racing as you continued, desperate to say it all before it consumed you.

“I’m not always there, but when I am… It’s like I’m not even alive. I watch from some place far away. Sometimes, I see myself dead.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to hold it together. “I see James and Sirius, and I—God, I can’t breathe. I just… I can’t fix it, Remus. I can’t stop it. There’s a traitor, someone in our circle, someone close, and they’re going to betray us. James dies, Sirius gets blamed. They throw him in Azkaban… And I—I get taken, or worse.”

Remus’s hand reached out, but you flinched away, guilt and fear flooding your chest. You couldn’t look at him anymore. You couldn’t look at anyone, not with this knowledge hanging over you.

“I’ve been pushing you all away,” you whispered. “I’m scared, Remus. I’m terrified. I’ve been trying to protect you, to protect all of you. But I can’t stop what’s coming. I can’t stop it. And it’s eating me alive. I’m watching all of us die and I can’t do anything about it.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t dare let them fall. You were already too weak. Too broken. You couldn’t bear to show him any more of your fragility.

“Please, Remus, you have to promise me—promise me you won’t tell them.” Your voice was barely a whisper now, a plea. “Not yet. Not until we know what to do. I don’t know how to stop it, but I have to try. I have to do something, and I can’t do it alone.”

His hand was trembling as he cupped your face, lifting it so that you had no choice but to meet his eyes. His gaze was filled with so much pain, but also an understanding that shattered you further.

“Don’t ever think you’re alone in this, dove,” he whispered. “I’m with you. Always. We’ll find a way to stop it.”

You collapsed into his arms then, the sobs you’d been holding in finally breaking free. He held you tight, letting you cry it all out, his hand rubbing your back in comforting circles.

When the tears subsided, he whispered into your head, “ I believe you, dove.”

And in that moment, you finally allowed yourself to believe it too—believe that together, you might still have a chance to rewrite the ending.

The days that followed were desperate, and the sense of dread hung thick in the air.

The Marauders—Sirius, James, and Remus—refused to leave your side. Remus spent hours with you, pushing you to strengthen your Occlumency, your focus unwavering as he guided you through each mental block. His presence was a steady reassurance, though the unspoken tension between you both never quite lifted. The weight of what you’d seen in that vision was suffocating, and you had to push yourself to stay strong for them. For him.

Every moment, every glance you exchanged with your boyfriends felt charged with the weight of a looming secret. You knew things were changing, but you couldn’t tell them yet. Not until you knew the truth.

And so, you turned to your studies, hoping that if you immersed yourself in magic, in spells that might give you a fighting chance, the gnawing fear would subside.

It was a normal evening. The fire crackled merrily in the common room, casting a warm, golden glow over the four of you. Sirius sprawled out on the couch, teasing James as he flicked through a Quidditch magazine, his signature grin pulling at the corners of his lips. James was laughing, leaning over to nudge Sirius, while you and Remus sat across from them, trying to hold onto a semblance of normalcy.

For a fleeting moment, everything felt right. Remus caught your eye from across the room, and his lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. You returned it, but deep inside, the unease never fully disappeared.

“So, how’s the study session going baby?” Sirius asked, turning his head lazily toward you.

“It’s… fine siri.” you replied, your voice betraying none of the storm inside you. “Just trying to get through all this Occlumency nonsense.”

Remus laughed softly, his gaze never straying from you. “You’re doing great. You’re stronger than you think.”

James grinned. “You’re both scary smart,” he said with a wink. “I’ve been trying to catch up, but it’s been a slow process.”

Sirius chuckled, his usual mischievous energy making it feel like everything was just as it should be.

But then, in the blink of an eye, the room seemed to shift.

The dizziness hit first, so sudden you barely had time to brace yourself. Your vision blurred, and a rush of cold air washed over you. You pressed a hand to your temple, trying to steady yourself, but it was no use.

It wasn’t just dizziness. It was like the world itself was slipping away, replaced by something darker. A vision.

The world is suffocating—darkness swallowing everything.

The air is thick with screams—raw, guttural, pleading.

James’s glasses fall, shattered into pools of red.

The earth is drenched, soaked with fear, with blood, with everything you never wanted to know.

“Run!” Sirius’s voice cracks as he yanks you forward

You hear Remus, pleading, begging—

“Please, don’t look back. Just go!”

The air is heavy with the crack of spells, the sickening sound of bones breaking.

Sirius’s grip is all you have left to hold on to. You feel the weight of everything pressing down on you, but his voice is a lifeline.

“We need to go NOW.” You don’t look back, but you hear it. That scream.

James.

It’s not just a scream. It’s the sound of everything breaking. The sound of life ending.

It rips through you, through all of you, tearing something deep inside that you can’t even name.

Remus’s eyes lock with yours for a brief second, and in them, you see everything: fear, love, regret. “Don’t look back,” Remus’s voice is barely a whisper,

The screams keep coming, one after the other. A storm of death and pain. Then, the worst sound of all.

Remus.

You hear him cry out—no, not cry out—begging. His voice breaking, splintering as if his very soul is being torn apart.

The sound cuts through the air like a knife, a desperate plea for mercy that doesn’t come.

The trees are closing in, but you can’t outrun the screams. You can’t outrun what’s happening.

Sirius stumbles, dragging you with him, but you both know it’s too late.

The ground is shaking now, trembling with the weight of death.

Something moves in the distance. Something that’s always been there, lurking, watching.

It’s him.

You hear the soft whisper of a name in your mind, but you don’t believe it.

The world stops.

The truth crashes through you, breaking you wide open.

The traitor.

The one you trusted.

The one who sold them out.

Everything you thought you knew is shattered.

Gasping for air, chest heaving, you felt the pressure of hands on your shoulders, holding you steady.

“Hey—hey, stay with me. You’re okay.”

It was Remus. His voice was strained with worry. But it didn’t make sense. None of it did.

The world was still spinning, and the faces around you were all blurry—except for one. The one that you couldn’t pull your eyes away from.

Peter was standing by the door. His eyes were unreadable.

And in that moment, you knew.

“Peter.”

The word was barely a whisper, but it hit the room like thunder.

Remus’s grip tightened, his voice full of panic. “What are you saying? What do you mean?”

But you couldn’t answer. Your mind was reeling from the truth. The betrayal that had been right in front of you all along.

It was Peter.

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