#they had to work together and it resulted in chaos

[7ndipity]

Limbo

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You and Yoongi have been friends for over a year, but when Yoongi realizes that his feelings for you might be something more, he pulls away, fearing the pains of the past will repeat themselves. You just want to give him the love he deserves; can he accept it, or will he hide away from you?

Word Count: 3.5k(whoops lol)

Warnings: 18+ mdni, angst, mutual pining, mentions of drinking, swearing, mentions of bad/toxic past relationships, eventual smut at the end, handjob, subby Yoongi bc I said so, not proofread

A/N: I got several requests while I was gone wanting some angst to fluff/smut with Yoongi, so I kinda combined them all into this mess hehe. It def got away from me, but I hope you'll all enjoy it!

Masterlist

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It’s strange how little things that seem almost insignificant at first glance, take on so much more meaning to us than we ever expect them to. Songs on the radio, a specific perfume or food, random little trinkets that can be found in almost any gift shop. Like the keychain that Yoongi fiddled with absentmindedly as he rode the elevator up to his friend Hee-jun’s apartment.

The tiny bear figure was nothing particularly remarkable on its own, but it had come to hold a certain sense of peace for Yoongi whenever he held onto it, like his own little good luck charm, something to help keep him centered when he was feeling overwhelmed, much like now as he stepped into his friends crowded apartment.

He quickly found his usual place, tucked safely into the corner of the sofa, steering clear of the noise and chaos of the main group as they talked and drank.

His friend was always encouraging him to come over for his weekend hangouts, insisting to Yoongi that all the energy and music would help clear his head and give him inspiration for work. Yoongi wasn’t particularly in the mood for this much noise and stimuli though. He’d spent the better part of the past week holed up in his studio working several new songs, though his results had been underwhelming by his standards. He was tired and had half a mind to just slip back out the door and go home without saying anything.

His mood however perked up instantly as he caught sight of a familiar figure slipping through the front door, his eyes following you as you grabbed a drink and glanced about the room, your face breaking into a huge grin as you spotted him watching you.

“I thought you said you weren’t coming this week?” You asked, taking the empty seat next to him. “What happened to “I’m too busy being a musical genius” or whatever?”

“I was persuaded otherwise.” He replied dryly, ignoring your growing amused grin.

“I’m glad.” You said.

“Didn’t say it was you, I’m just here to get back the whiskey that Hee-Jun owes me, one glass at a time.” He responded, tipping back the last of his drink as he spoke, making you laugh.

“Whatever you say, bro.” You relented.

“Yah! I’ve told you not to call me bro.” He complained.

The two of you fell into your usual routine of conversation and bickering, much the same as every other night you had spent together since you’d first met over a year ago, when Hee-jun had invited you to a group dinner and introduced you to everyone.

Yoongi had found himself instantly charmed by you, your friendly but sarcastic attitude matching his perfectly. He had spent the majority of that first night talking eagerly with you, much to the surprise of the others, not used to seeing this side of Yoongi.

Your friendship had quickly grown after that. He had found himself completely drawn in by you, finding it remarkably easy to talk with you and wanting to learn every little thing about you. Yoongi’s friends loved to tease him about his being whipped for you, pointing out things like how he always claimed that he was too busy to hang out with them, but he somehow always managed to make time for you, but he didn’t pay them much mind. He was happy around you, really truly happy. He felt safe and comfortable with you, which was something that didn’t come very easy for Yoongi.

There were times though, usually on late nights when you were still hanging out long after one of you should’ve gone home, when he would wonder if there was some truth to his friend’s jokes, feeling a faint but insistent twinge in his chest, as if something were struggling for freedom, but he quelled it down, passing it off as just a passing thought, a flicker of something that didn’t really mean anything… Right?

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of drinks and talking to you and his friends over the too loud music until late. He was in the middle of a discussion with one of the members when he felt a sudden weight against his shoulder.

Glancing down, he was met with your sleeping figure, your face nuzzled against the material of his jacket, 

All at once, that twisting feeling in his chest had returned, far more pronounced and forceful than usual, his heart stuttering like the moments before the drop on a rollercoaster. His mind went blank as he stared down at you, a familiar warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his system.

Fuck, he loved you.

He loved you, with your dumb jokes and peach flavored lip balm, your terrible playlists and your quiet little hums when you're nervous, and the way you hid behind your hands when you laughed. He loved every little thing about you and he suddenly can’t breathe as he stared down at your sleeping form, taking in how perfectly you fit against his side. He stayed there for a while, not quite sure what to do now.

“Y/n?” He whispered.

“Mhm.” You stirred, shifting closer, but not fully surfacing from sleep.

He was quiet for a second, mind whirring as he tried to decide what action he should take.

He could just tell you, nudge you again gently till you woke properly, blinking up at him all drowsy and confused and utterly adorable.

“I think… I love you.” The words were simple enough in theory, mumbled out as his dark eyes bore into your own, begging for this to not be a mistake.

For a moment you didn’t move, staring as if unsure of what you’d heard, before suddenly pushing yourself up, seeking out his lips.

He wrapped his arms around you, savoring the taste of you as he pulled you closer, letting out a soft groan as your hands found their way into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp and raising goosebumps over his whole body-

The sound of glass breaking in the kitchen behind the two of you shattered the moment, ripping Yoongi roughly from his daydream.

“Yah, you see?! This is why I don’t let you help!” Jin scolded loudly.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Joon snapped back, equally loud.

“How was that not-?!”

The chaos from the kitchen had pulled you from sleep, sitting up quickly and blinking around in confusion and concern.

“What happened?” You asked groggily, shaking off the last hints of sleep.

“It’s just the guys being dumb-asses, don’t worry.” He assured you, but he shifted away subtly, a strange sense of relief flooding his system.

Mumbling out a faint excuse, he ducked down the hall to the bathroom, catching sight of his expression in the mirror as he splashed some water on his face in an attempt to clear his head. 

His cheeks were flushed a deep rosy hue, his eyes slightly too big, pupils blown wide.

What the fuck was wrong with him?! He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t say those things to you. He’d fallen down that hole before, letting his feelings get the better of him confessing, only to be viciously rejected. Or worse yet, having his feelings falsely returned, and ending up with his heart twisted into something he didn’t even recognize for the other person's benefit and pleasure, leaving him to pick up the warped pieces when they had used him up.

He couldn’t let that happen with you, he couldn’t risk ruining one of the best friendships he’s had in years over some stupid infatuation.

Taking care not to be noticed, he silently slipped out the door and made his way home, sending a half-assed text to you and his other friends about not feeling well before turning his phone off and flopping onto his bed.

He would fix this, he promised to himself, he just needed to give his little crush some time to run its course and get out of his system, like a cold or the flu. In the meantime, he decided it would be best to put some space between the two of you, try and wean himself off the dependency that he had developed with you. It wasn’t good for him to ‘need’ someone as much as he did you, it would only lead to regret if he wasn’t careful.

He could do this, he tried to convince himself. He could correct these feelings and go back to how your friendship was before.

He had to.

For the next few weeks, he did his best to avoid you without being too obvious, claiming things like busy schedules as why he was suddenly never around.

He tried to convince himself that this was necessary and the better of two options, but the full truth was that he was miserable.

He hadn’t realized just how much you had been seeped into his day to day life until he tried to go without you. There were no silly texts convos to keep his spirits up during the day, his evenings dull and quiet, no warm laughter or teasing jokes to pull a smile out of him, no encouraging touches on his hand when he was feeling frustrated or random little backhugs that brought more peace and comfort than he ever thought was possible.

He knew he could easily remedy the situation and just face his feelings and talk to you, but the ghosts of his past kept creeping up on him, whispering in his ear that he would ruin everything if he dared open himself like that again. 

His heart argued however with him constantly in your defence. This time it could be different, you were so different from all those people in his past, so kind and warm and patient.

He knew deep down that you would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, but his fear left him in a constant state of limbo, frustrated with himself and confused about how to move forward.

He decided to take Holly on a long walk to try and help clear his head, fidgeting with the tiny bear charm on his keyring in his pocket as he often did when he was frustrated.

Even this made his thoughts circle back to you. You’d given it to him not long after you’d become friends, having taken him out for dinner one evening when he had been having a tough week. You’d wandered around the city without any real plans, eating snacks from street vendors, talking and goofing around till he felt his chest finally begin to lighten. You’d won the keychain charm in a random gatcha capsule machine and had insisted that it resembled him, dropping it in his hand and saying that he should keep it as a good luck charm.

He’d humored you somewhat reluctantly at first, but he’d found himself toying with the charm whenever he was anxious or uneasy, a sense of comfort and certainty creeping through him whenever he held onto it, your words echoing through his mind.

Apparently the universe was as fed up with Yoongi’s bullshit as he was, deciding that since he wouldn’t make a decision on his own, it would give him a push in the form of you on his doorstep as he returned home with Holly from their walk.

The tiny dog rushed to greet you, having missed your presence almost as much as his owner had the past few weeks, excitedly bouncing around your feet as you tried to pet him.

Hi buddy.” You giggled before glancing up to meet Yoongi’s eye. “Hey Yoongs.”

“H-hey.” He swallowed nervously. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d say hi.” You said, still playing with Holly.

He watched the two of you, a tiny smile making its way across his face as he took in the way your expression lit up as you cooed over the little poodle, your smile warming him more than the lingering hints of summer in the air, instantly weaving your way back into his heart.

“You wanna come in?” The words had a slight wobble as they left his mouth, as if he was asking himself more than you.

You nodded. “I’d like that.”

He let the three of you into the house, debating awkwardly on what he should do before settling next you on the sofa.

It was quiet for a moment, neither of you quite knowing where to start.

“So, how’s the new album going?” You offered.

The two of you talked for a while, quickly falling back into your usual routine, talking about everything from work to friends to the new project you’d been working on, but there was clearly an unspoken ‘something’ hanging in the air between you, Yoongi gradually losing himself in just listening and watching you, the way your eyes flashed as you spoke, the way you talked through your hands. 

It was several minutes before you noticed the way he was staring at you, his eyes distant, an almost dreamy glaze over them.

“What?” You asked.

He shrugged.

“You just look happy.” He replied.

“I am happy.” You confirmed, lightly shoving his shoulder. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

Your words sent a quiet thrill through him, warm and hopeful, but your next words also triggered a twinge of guilt.

“I’ve missed this, you, the past few weeks.” You admitted, playing with your hands on your lap. “I was honestly starting to think you were avoiding me.” You laughed nervously, trying to lighten the weight behind your words.

He was silent for a moment, the decision that he’d been avoiding hanging in the air again.

“Actually… I kinda was.” He admitted. “No, I know I was.” 

Your expression fell. “Why? Did I do something-?”

“No no, it wasn’t anything you did.” He quickly assured you. “It was-, it was a ‘me thing’ I needed to figure out.”

“What kind of thing?” You asked.

He hesitated.

Fuck it.

“The fact that I haven’t been honest with myself, or you, about a lot of things, like the fact that I like you… as more than a friend.”

Your mouth fell open at his admission, but Yoongi pressed on, fearing that if he stopped now, he might never get it out.

He laid everything out, his feelings for you and his fears and scars from the past and why he pulled away from you, his gaze never straying from the ground in front of him as he spoke.

“Through all of this, I realized a couple things.” He said. 

You waited for him to continue.

 “I could live without you, but I would fucking hate it.” He finally glanced up at you, his eyes unusually vulnerable. 

“I hated not seeing you, hated not hearing your laugh, not smelling your perfume of your stupid coffee order in my car after driving you to work. I hated it, but it was all my own fault, because I was too much of a coward to admit that I liked you more than I thought was possible, more than I should. “

“Yoongi-” You tried. but he kept going.

“And you can tell me to fuck off and that you don’t feel the same, and I’ll gladly leave you alone, or go back to being just friends, but I just wanted-”

“Yoongi, shut up.” You said, not harshly, but firmly enough to snap his mouth closed instantly. 

His heart pounded loudly in his chest, the silence stretching between you deafening as he waited for you to speak

“You really think you’re the only one who’s been feeling like this? Who’s been afraid?” You asked quietly, your voice trembling with emotion. “You think I haven’t thought about if we?... If I told you…” You took an unsteady breath, Yoongi staring at you in disbelief. “Why did you say something before-?

“I was afraid,” He admitted, feeling tears beginning to prick at his eyes. “Afraid that you wouldn’t want this. Or worse, that you would.”

Your eyes saddened as you reached out, fingers brushing against his cheek. “Why would that be worse?”

“Because I don’t wanna break this, I don’t wanna lose you” He whispered, his voice cracking. “Not when you mean so much to me.”

Suddenly, the distance between you felt unbearable, the space filled with the weight of thousands of unspoken feelings.

Before he could think, you closed the gap, leaning so close you could feel each other's shaky breaths, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“Say it,” You whispered, the words barely audible. “I won’t hurt you… just say it.”

For a moment, you thought he might retreat, that he might hide behind the walls he’d built around himself again. But then his gaze softened, a quiet resolve settling into his chest.

“I love you,” He breathed, the words falling from his lips easily, soft and unguarded. “I love you so fucking much.”

He leaned in, letting his forehead rest against yours, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. His touch was gentle, reverent, as if you might disappear if he held on too tightly. 

But you weren’t going anywhere. Not when you’d just been offered the world in his hands.

You couldn’t find your words. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing against his in a way that felt both brand new and familiar all at once, like finally coming home.

The world around you melted away, his arms wrapped around you tightly, shielding you from everything that could ever dare try to distract from this moment, pulling you close, feeling how perfectly you pressed against him.

His lips were soft and warm on yours, his touch achingly tender, every brush of his fingers against your skin like a spark of electricity.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, his eyes stayed scrunched closed, as if trying to savor every ounce of this feeling.

His fingers traced gentle paths up and down your arms to your shoulders, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t know-,” He whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability and need, drawing away slightly. “Fuck, I want so much, but I don’t know if we should-”

“Don’t hide away from me again, please.” You begged, following him to keep close, your lips brushing against his as you spoke, sending shivers rippling through him. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but don’t be don’t hide. Show me what you need. Please.”

At your words, Yoongi felt the last remnants of his fear crumble away, replaced only by a deep craving and need for you. 

Crushing his lips to yours again, he gave himself over to the kiss fully, gripping your waist and pulling you to straddle him properly.

His lips trailed down down your jaw to your neck, sucking marks on the sensitive skin as he went and causing you to writhe and squirm in his hold, grinding down against the growing bulge in his pants.

He let out a pained groan. 

“Touch me, god please, touch me.” He begged into your neck, bucking up into you desperately.

There was a blur of fumbling with buttons and zippers, your shirt thrown away somewhere behind the sofa, leaving your heaving chest bare for him to paw amd suck at hungrily.

You snaked a hand between you to stroke his aching length through his boxers, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he bucked up into your touch, moaning into your skin.

“Please.” He begged, for what he didn’t even fully know.

You shifted back just enough to free him from the confines of his underwear, his cock springing up against his abdomen, the tip red and leaking, desperate for any sort of relief.

As he watched through glazed-over eyes, you let your spit drip down onto his cock for lubrication, wrapping your hand around him and stroking him slowly to spread it over him, reveling in the way he twitched and whined under your touch.

“Fuck, Y/n, m-more please.” He moaned, his hips bucking up to chase your hand.

You sped up your movements, twisting your wrist just right as he clung to you, your foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air. The whole thing almost felt more intimate than if he were actually inside you.

”I-, fuck, I’m gonna-” He panted, pulsing in your grip.

“Let go baby, I got you.” 

He came with a shuddering groan, curling into you as he painted your hand with streaks of white that dribbled back down onto his twitching length, making him shiver with oversensitivity.

“Fuck, Y/n, that was, I-” He struggled to catch his breath, leaning against you heavily.

“Yoongi?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you too.” You kissed his lips lightly, moving to detangle yourself from him so you could clean the two of you up, when he caught you by the waist, pulling you back down on the sofa, pinning you under him, his eyes dark as they stared into yours.

“Where do you think you’re going, darling? We’re just getting started.”

“Now it’s your turn.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[rindreamery]

two hands on me.

you had agreed to keep your relationship with itoshi rin a secret. but after an important win, he decides he doesn't want to keep you a secret any longer.

f1!itoshi rin x reader - fluff, angst if you squint - w.c. 1.6k

it’s late, but the roar of the crowd is lively and deafening around you. it's echoing in your ears.

you stand there in the midst of it, hands clasped together, behind the divider that separates you from the track. but you’re ignoring the noise as you focus on itoshi rin, the man of the hour. there’s tears of overwhelming joy and pride brimming in your eyes, and your heart is racing with excitement from the buzz of watching such a victory.

he’s just finished the race; he’s barely stepping out of his race car before he’s being bombarded by the people around him. you’re not surprised by this. this victory, it’s big. so big. one of the most important in his career, and the entire world is watching him, cheering for him. there’s people who have traveled from all over the world, just to be able to watch him. their phones are pointed at him, immortalizing this moment, and other people are fighting for a sliver of his time.

he deserves every second of this.

you’d been a witness to his hard work; you were there every step of the way. from the long training periods, to the excruciating workout regiment he had to endure to make sure his body was ready for this circuit, and the long hours spent doubting if he could really do it all. you (and him) know better than anyone else that he was meant to win.

you want him to shine. 

but the selfish part of you wants him to know that you’re also watching him, that you’re cheering for him too. that part of you that wants to run onto the track and join him, to hold his face in your hands and tell him how absolutely proud you are. to keep all his attention to yourself, to kiss him until neither of you can breathe. but you stay in your spot— you know you can’t.

all you can do is watch from afar.

your relationship is a secret, after all. a mutual, and carefully hidden truth between the two of you. it was agreed on, after a deep conversation, that it was probably within your best interest to keep it that way. he didn’t want you to get bombarded by his fans. he knew better than anyone else how it felt like to have random people poke their noses into his business, and he didn't want that for you. and you didn’t want to put a damper on his career, knowing that it could ultimately result in the loss of support for him. this is for the best, so you stay hidden.

(but, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t suck to not be able to publicly support him the way he deserves.)

it’s a given that you’re not expecting him to look your way��� not here, not now. not when he’s basking in the glory of his victory in a crowd of thousands. his crew was crowding him, equally as thrilled as the audience, and paparazzis were swarming around with flashing cameras all asking for his attention.

right now, you weren’t itoshi rin’s girlfriend. you were just another fan in the crowd, standing there, heart filled with pride and joy.

you’re just about ready to leave, uninterested in going onto the track to watch the podium celebrations, ready to escape the crowd and go back to your shared home. you’ve set your mind on the fact that you’re content on congratulating him when he gets back, surprising him with his favorite meal.

but you don’t get far before the crowd erupts again, and this time, everyone’s pushing past one another to get into your section. you don’t even think about it. you just act on instinct, stepping closer to the barrier once again, curiosity getting the best of you.

and then you see him.

he’s breaking free from the chaos, his eyes scanning the crowd with an urgency you’ve never seen before. and there, in the middle of it all, his eyes land on you. your gazes connect, and your breath gets stuck in your throat. he stumbles for a second, momentarily shoved back by the crowd. and then, the next second— there’s no hesitation in his movements as he pushes past the people, ignoring the gasps of offense.

alarms go off in your head; he’s jogging straight towards you.

he still hasn’t stripped himself of his driving kit, not caring enough about that in that moment. he’s still wearing his helmet, face covered and unreadable, and his hands are still wrapped in his gloves.

but then he’s ripping his gloves off, haphazardly throwing them on the ground behind him as he makes a beeline for you. he’s undoing the clasp of his helmet with clumsy hands, and he doesn’t bother to push it fully off, awkwardly laying on top of his head. once his face is no longer blocked by the tinted plastic, you see that his eyes are staring straight at you. there’s a look of set determination on his face, and you can’t deny the feeling of nervousness that washes over you.

for once, it feels like you don't know what he's thinking of doing.

and then rin’s standing in front of you within seconds, and his breath is ragged and uneven from the jog. but he doesn’t wait to catch his breath. not when all he can think of this one thing: his second win of the night. he doesn’t wait for a word from you— no, he doesn’t have the patience. he doesn’t ask for permission. he’s jumping over the barrier, and his hands are gripping at your hips in a heartbeat, pulling you to him.

"tell me," he’s giving you an out before he does something he can’t take back. “tell me if you don’t want me, this, right now.”

you’re not sure what he means, but you answer anyway. “i want this.”

then everything becomes a blur; it all happens so fast. your mind is still reeling from the shock. from how rin’s acting. and you’re overwhelmed by thoughts of the cameras, now all pointed towards you, and rin standing right in front of you. real, and very much not a hallucination. you’re barely able to register anything before one of his hands is traveling up, pushing at the back of your head to pull you into a kiss.

you freeze, unsure of what to do.

you can't help but make a noise of surprise when you make contact with him. it’s soft at first. his lips are moving with yours in a shallow, but hungry, kiss. as if the words he couldn't say were being poured into it, into you. and then his hand is traveling to the nape of your neck, pressing gently against it, and he’s tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

one of your hands instinctively fly up to cradle his jaw, palm cupping his cheeks, gently. the other hand clings onto the collar of his tracksuit, knuckles turning white from your grip.

his hold on you is firm, grounding you, constantly pulling and clutching at you to keep you close to his body. you can feel the desperation, the way his lips stay locked on yours even as you both run out of breath. even when your mind starts to grow fuzzy, and your brain starts to signal for air. as if, in his mind, you would run away from this.

but you don’t. you would never.

in that moment, the world falls into silence around you. the noise from the crowd fades into the background, and it's just you and him. no cameras, no flashing lights. even the plastic of his helmet, digging into the skin of your head, doesn’t bother you. you know nothing but the feeling of his lips against yours, his two hands on you, and the way his heart is beating in sync with yours.

“rin–” you gasp, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. you're coming to your senses, and your palms are weakly pushing at his chest to pull away from him momentarily. but his hands keep you in place, not wanting to let go. “hold on— i thought we were keeping this a secret? so many people are watching us right now.”

you hate this feeling of being pulled back into the present. the fact that you can feel the overbearing presence of the cameras, and how you can practically feel the stares burning holes into the back of your head. but he’s quick to pull your attention back on him, one hand squeezing at your hip reassuringly, the other tilting your chin to face him. his face softens at your words, almost looking guilty, and his eyes filled with tenderness and vulnerability.

focus on me, you can almost hear him say. it's just me.

you're looking at him expectantly, and he can see the worry in your eyes. this is sudden, he's aware, and he knows you both made an agreement. but rin’s never cared much for the approval of the media— he'd only ever cared about you. it’s his, and your, life and no one else’s business.

he'd made up his mind already. he's willing to fight anyone who insults you, and he doesn't care if he loses the support of some fans. (he knows he'll gain more anyway.) he wants to show everyone who’s been truly supporting him.

his number one fan. the one who's behind all his successes.

rin doesn’t want to hide you any longer— he doesn’t want you to hide any longer. he wants the world to know what’s his.

“i don’t care if they're watching,” he breathes against your lips, forehead resting against yours. your breaths are still shallow, chests heaving against each others, but he’s leaning in again for another. “i want to show off my biggest win.”

and his lips are on yours once again.

note. watched that one f1 wag edit of nicole scherzinger and the helmet kiss, and i had to write about this IMMEDIATELY. just with a twist cuz i didn't know how to make a helmet kiss romantic LMAO

© rindreamery, 2024

[lnfours]

* ✰. — birds of a feather | l.n

summary: i’ll love you til the day that i die.

warnings: the result of the new billie eilish album being on repeat and me having this song stuck in my head, so this was born. fluff, fluff and more fluff bc i said so. slowly getting my creative juices back, so bear with me.

masterlist | soundtrack

you hadn’t been looking for anything when you had met lando. a freshly graduated student who finally had time to find interest in their personal life, rather then spend their time consumed with textbooks in front of them, trying to navigate your way through the chaotic mess of life.

but the moment the curly haired brit bumped into you in the paddock, sending your notes and fresh cup of coffee all over you and the ground, you were doomed. falling head first into the comforting chaos that was lando norris.

and you thanked your stars every morning when you woke up that you had been running late that day, or else you would’ve never met the sleeping boy next to you. wouldn’t have ever gotten the chance to get to know the sought after driver with a big heart and who loves with his whole soul.

you smiled to yourself, sitting in the bed and taking in the way he slept peacefully, not aware how pretty he looked in the morning sun as it peaked in through your blinds. his cheek pressed against the pillow, his lips slightly parted as he slept.

you couldn’t help but reach out and brush the stray curl away from his face, smiling softly as he stirred in his sleep at your touch. your silent way to keep going, your nails scratching at his scalp gently. a soft hum came from him, followed by the gorgeous sight of his green eyes shining up at you. his eyes fully adjusting to the brightness as he squinted, his hand reaching out to yours.

“c’mere,”

his voice was hoarse and sleep coated, but it never failed to send shivers down your spine. you scooted closer, letting him pull you into his side. your face nuzzled in his bare shoulder, his head laying on top of yours.

“we need to be up soon,” you said, poking his ribs gently, “your family’s coming to see the new house and have dinner, remember?”

he didn’t, actually. and if it wasn’t for you, he’d be certain he’d miss all of his meetings, call times, and hell, even sometimes the start of his races. thankfully, you were never far from him on the pitlane. the perks of working with sky, who he should really thank. he’d make a mental note to do it next race. right now, he was going to enjoy the peaceful month he got to spend with you. uninterrupted peace, free time. where you got to whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted.

he groaned, nuzzling his face into your hair. you laughed softly, “lando,”

“i like when you say my name,” he mumbled, “say it again.”

you chuckled, and in your best flirty tone you could muster up in the moment, you did, “lando,”

he pressed a soft kiss to the skin of your neck, right where your neck and collarbone met. his favorite spot to kiss whenever he teased you because he knew you were ticklish.

and as if on queue, you giggled, shoving his head from your neck, “stop it,”

“just five more minutes,” he pleaded, “with my girl, in our bed, that’s all i ask.”

you sighed, “fine, but not one second longer.”

he smiled, knowing he could always get you to fold. you hated to admit it, but you’d always cave for him. do whatever he wanted. he had you wrapped around his finger and you had him wrapped around yours. smitten for each other, young in love, whatever you wanted to call it, you were it.

“how’d you sleep?” you asked, finger tips tracing the lines in your mind that you drew with your fingers every morning. connecting the moles on his skin, from his shoulders to his chest and down to his sides. your own little routine you had incorporated, a habit you picked up after the first night you spent together a year and a half ago.

“good until you woke me up.”

“you love when i wake you up.”

“you’re right,” he mumbled, “getting to see that pretty face every morning is the highlight of my day.”

you chuckled, leaning up on your elbow, reaching around and grabbing his cheek into your hand. he smiled softly as you leaned down, pressing your lips to his.

he pulled away, a smile on his lips as they brushed against yours, “and your morning kisses, i love waking up to your lips on mine, or on my-“

you shook your head, laughing and covering his face with your pillow before pulling yourself out from the covers, “alright, time to get up!”

“that wasn’t five minutes!” he gasped, tossing your pillow your way softly, teasingly. you laughed, walking into the connected bathroom, calling back to him.

“long enough! you killed the romantic mood,”

“i’m only speaking my truth, baby,” he said, footsteps joining you in the bathroom, watching him lean against the doorway out of the corner of your eye, “is a man not allowed to speak his truth?”

you popped the toothbrush in your mouth, sending him a glare. he laughed, pressing a kiss to your head before grabbing his own toothbrush from his side of the sink. he joined you in brushing your teeth, wrapping an arm around your waist. you smiled softly, trying to ignore how good he looked. sweatpants loosely hanging around his waist, bare chest on full display, curls wild and in serious need of taming.

you two looked good together, and even though he wasn’t necessarily considered ‘tall’ he still stood a few inches above you. his green eyes met yours in the mirror, and he knew you were subtly checking him out. he sent you a wink and you rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you finished brushing your teeth.

he finished shortly after you, watching you as you rummaged around in your drawer. you pulled out the skincare he had seen you put on every morning and night, and even has put on for you after nights where you’ve had one too many vodka redbulls.

he leaned against the counter, watching you in the mirror as you rubbed the product into your skin, “can i have some?”

you giggled, moving to stand between his legs. you squeezed a little bit of the moisturizer onto your fingers, rubbing into his face. he grinned softly at your gentle touch, “that smells good.”

you nodded, “and it has sunscreen in it, it’s good for you.”

he motioned towards your drawer, “do you have any lip balm?”

you hummed, putting the tube back before grabbing the lip balm. you went to hand it to him but he raised an eyebrow at you. you sighed with a laugh, shaking your head.

“gimme,” you said, grabbing his chin and swiping the lip balm against his pursed lips. you couldn’t help but giggle again, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips when you were done, “there.”

he rubbed his lips together and hummed, “hmm, is that coconut?”

you nodded, “like it?”

he nodded, pulling you in closer by your waist, “love it.”

you grabbed his wrist, checking the time on his watch, “they’ll be here in an hour.”

“so what i’m hearing is-“

“no,” you shoved his shoulder with another laugh, “what im saying is that i need to run to the store and get flowers for the vase on the table.”

“who needs flowers,” he said, pressing a kiss to your chest, “when i could have you back in my bed, all to myself for a little while longer until i have to share you for the rest of the day.”

you ran a hand through his hair, his eyes looking up to meet yours, “as tempting as it sounds, i really do have to run to the store. plus, i have to get some stuff for dinner.”

he sighed dramatically, “okay,”

you walked into the closet, rummaging through his side and stealing one of his hoodies and fishing out a pair of sweatpants. a quick outfit to run a few last minute errands.

he had found his way to the kitchen, standing at the coffee pot. you pinched his side, kissing his shoulder. he turned his head and smiled, leaning down and kissing your head, “need anything while i’m out?”

“mm,” he hummed, “breakfast? i don’t feel like cooking.”

you laughed, “me either. i’ll pick up something.”

he nodded, smiling playfully, “i guess you can take my car.”

“oh i was going to,” you said, grabbing his key off the hook, “even without your permission.”

“rude!”

you laughed, blowing him a kiss, “i’ll be back. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

your trip to the store was quick, making it back within a half an hour, arms full of things as you carried everything inside, closing the door with your foot. you set everything on the counter, hanging the keys back on the hook.

“i’m back!”

“i’m in the bedroom!” his voice called back to you. you made your way down the hallway and into the bedroom, smiling as he held up two shirts in the mirror.

“which looks better?” he asked, holding both up against the pair of plaid pants he had picked out. you hummed, standing behind him and watching his reflection. his hair being perfectly styled and his cologne filling the room telling you he had been getting ready while you were gone.

you pointed to the white shirt, “that one.”

“you think?”

you nodded, watching him take it off the hanger and slipping it over his shoulders. you stepped in front of him, buttoning the buttons. purposefully leaving the top few open.

he rolled up the sleeves, sending you a look, “might as well have my whole shirt unbuttoned.”

“i wouldn’t complain.” you joked and he smiled, before quickly realizing your attire. you smile as he started pulling at the hem of his hoodie that sat on your frame.

“hey! this is mine.”

the baby blue hoodie looked better on you anyway, but he still liked to joke around with you, “i know.”

“thief.”

“come and get it then.” you shrugged, crossing your arms.

“oh, so now you’re in the mood?” he asked, “what was it? the buttons?”

you laughed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, “maybe.”

“you’re going to be the death of me.”

“you love me.” you smiled, his hands finding your warm, soft skin under his hoodie.

“damn right i do, baby. til the day i die.”

[fvsm4x]

𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

synopsis. Pregnancy, usually a positive outcome of love between two partners that love each other deeply. But Pregnancy resulting from someone using you for their own pleasure is far from a positive outcome

+ warning/content. bully Gojo Satoru x female reader - reader is pregnant - mentions of abortion - mature themes/MDNI - usual warnings - suguru and reader are siblings - gojo is a fuckboy - angst angst angst:))

+ word count. 4.9k

a/n. Been a while since i‘ve updated this series…

<-previous - series mlist - next->

As your mother and father stormed out of your room, they slammed the door with a force that rattled the walls, leaving you alone with your brother in the suffocating silence that followed. The finality of that door slamming shut felt like an ominous punctuation—a statement that there was no turning back.

You stood frozen, your heart pounding so loudly that it drowned out the echo of their footsteps retreating down the hall. A knot tightened in your throat as the weight of their words crashed over you, a tidal wave of shame and dread. You forced yourself to take deep, steady breaths, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. The last thing you wanted was for your brother to see you like this—vulnerable, broken, on the verge of falling apart.

Is that it? you wondered, panic clawing at your insides. Is this really it? Am I actually getting kicked out? The thought left you feeling hollow, like everything you had ever counted on had been stripped away in a single, merciless instant.

Your mind raced, leaping to thoughts of your future—or what little was left of it. Everything you’d worked for, everything you’d dreamed of, felt like it was slipping through your fingers, unraveling faster than you could piece it back together. You could see the edges of your life falling away. Your education, your home, the support you once took for granted. All of it was disappearing, leaving only the stark reality of an uncertain path ahead.

You clenched your hands, digging your nails into your palms to anchor yourself, trying to stave off the wave of despair building inside you. It felt like your world was caving in, each piece of your carefully planned life crumbling in a way that seemed beyond repair.

Your brother shifted beside you, breaking the silence as he cleared his throat, his face etched with worry. He reached out a tentative hand, hovering as if unsure whether to comfort you or respect the fragile space you’d created between yourself and your emotions.

Your brother’s hand finally found your shoulder, his touch gentle but grounding. His silence spoke louder than words, and for a moment, it was all you could rely on. Even though he didn’t know what to say, his presence gave you something solid to hold onto in the midst of the chaos unraveling inside you.

“You don’t have to leave,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’re just… angry. They’ll come around. Maybe if we just talk to them tomorrow, things will calm down.”

You shook your head, the harsh reality already settling into place. “No, Suguru.. you heard them. They were serious. They want me gone.”

He looked down, his brows knitted together in frustration. “But where will you go? You can’t just… be out there by yourself.” The helplessness in his voice mirrored your own fear, but even he didn’t have a solution.

You glanced around your room—the bed you’d grown up in, the books you’d loved and underlined, the photos on the wall capturing fragments of happier moments, times when things were simpler, manageable. Each item felt like a piece of the life you were about to lose, like a museum of memories that would soon be locked away from you forever.

The silence between you and your brother grew heavy, and as much as you wanted to break it, words failed you. What could you say? That you’d made a mistake? That you hadn’t meant for any of this to happen? (You hadn‘t) But they all sounded hollow, too small to carry the weight of what you were facing.

Finally, your brother spoke, his voice determined. “You don’t have to do this alone. We’ll figure something out. You can live at my apartment—until you have a plan, at least. I don‘t really use it, so don‘t worry. I’ll help you. Whatever you need, I’ll be here.”

His words offered a sliver of hope, but even as you nodded, uncertainty lingered. You knew your brother meant well, but deep down, you both understood how complicated it would be for him to go against your parents’ wishes. They’d raised him with the same expectations, the same rules—and while his heart was with you, his loyalty was torn.

But still, the idea of having somewhere to go, even if only temporarily, softened the blow just enough for you to breathe.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, but your gratitude was genuine. You reached for him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. The hug was the only comfort you had at that moment, the only thing anchoring you against the overwhelming feeling of loss and uncertainty.

After a long silence, he pulled back slightly, his face determined. “Go pack a few things. Whatever you need tonight. We’ll get out of here quietly. I’ll take care of the rest.”

-

Gojo leaned back in his chair, the squeak of the metal legs against the floor barely audible over the low murmur of his classmates. He absentmindedly tapped a pen against his notebook, the rhythmic click-click of it matching the unease simmering in his chest. His gaze drifted out the classroom window, where the afternoon sun cast long shadows on the pavement. It had been weeks since he’d last seen you, and that last encounter in the classroom felt like it had happened yesterday, every moment still vividly etched in his mind.

He recalled the way the quiet hum of the school’s empty corridors amplified every sound—the soft, breathy gasps you made, the rush of your breathing as he pressed you against the cool surface of the wall. It was intoxicating, each detail replaying in his head like a film on repeat. But oddly enough, it pained him that he hadn’t seen you since then.

At first, he shrugged it off, convincing himself that you were just playing hard-to-get or perhaps needed some space after everything that had happened. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for someone to need time to collect themselves after an encounter with him— he had that effect on people. But as the days turned into weeks, that initial dismissal turned into a dull, nagging worry that gnawed at him.

Gojo tried to push the thoughts aside, telling himself that you’d show up eventually, that it was just a phase. But your absence had created an odd emptiness in his daily routine, a persistent itch he couldn’t quite scratch. He was used to you being there, your presence a strange but comforting constant, and now that comfort was replaced with a gnawing curiosity.

Then there was Suguru, your brother, whose steady presence at school made everything feel even stranger. He carried on with his day as though nothing had changed, greeting Gojo with his usual casual indifference, yet he never mentioned you. Gojo found himself watching Suguru more closely than he intended, searching for any hint or sign that might explain your absence. He could feel the itch of curiosity clawing at him, but part of him resisted asking outright. He didn’t want to seem like he cared too much, but every time he spotted Suguru without you, that curiosity intensified.

Had something happened to you? Did you get sick? Or had you simply decided to avoid him? The thought was uncomfortably unsettling, and he brushed it aside, frustrated with himself for even considering it.

It was frustrating. Gojo couldn’t quite understand why you were occupying so much of his mind. At first, he tried to blame it on Suguru—your brother was a constant reminder of you, after all—but he’d grown accustomed to that long ago. It wasn’t like him to fixate on anyone, especially someone who usually melted into the background. And yet, here he was, replaying that last encounter in his mind, scanning hallways, and lingering just a bit longer outside your classes, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

He could chalk it up to boredom, a simple distraction to stave off the monotony of his day-to-day life. But deep down, he knew that there was something more than that. The thrill of teasing you, the way your face would scrunch up in irritation when he pushed you down in the hallways—it was strangely addictive. You had become his little victim, a source of amusement that made the slow days feel bearable. Now that you were gone, it left a void he couldn’t fill.

He hated admitting it, but he missed picking on you. The thought made his jaw clench, and a twisted grin crept across his face. Maybe he’d overestimated his hold over you, convinced that you would always be there for him to mess with. Or perhaps this was some kind of game you were playing, deliberately making him feel your absence, and it annoyed him even more.

Days continued to pass without a sign of you, and then, one morning, Suguru didn’t show up to school. Gojo was caught off guard by the emptiness in the usual spots where he’d see his friend. Normally, Suguru was as dependable as clockwork, always showing up right on time, effortlessly composed and ready to move through the day. Gojo couldn’t help but feel a strange twist in his stomach, wondering if something had happened. Maybe Suguru’s absence was tied to yours?

When Suguru finally returned the next day, he looked…off. His usually neat hair was slightly disheveled, his clothes a bit rumpled. There was an exhausted heaviness in his steps, and dark shadows under his eyes made him look as though he hadn’t slept all night. Gojo’s eyes followed him as he trudged through the school halls, quieter than usual, avoiding small talk and slipping into his seat without so much as a glance at anyone.

It was unlike Suguru to be this way. He barely looked up during the lunch break, barely mumbled a response when someone tried to talk to him. And Gojo could feel the unspoken weight hanging over him like a shadow—an air of tension, of something strained and unresolved. It made Gojo’s curiosity burn even stronger, a gnawing need to know what had happened.

But when Gojo finally approached him, Suguru only glanced up, his gaze tired and distant, and muttered a soft, “Not today, Satoru.” There was a finality in his tone, a closed-off energy that Gojo hadn’t seen before. It was clear that Suguru was carrying something heavy, something he wasn’t ready—or willing—to share.

And somehow, that only made his thoughts drift back to you. The emptiness left by your absence grew sharper, more pointed, and with it came a sinking feeling that whatever was happening with Suguru…was connected to you.

Gojo scoffed, shaking his head at himself as he tried to push thoughts of you aside. Why was he even letting you get to him? It wasn’t like him to dwell on anyone, let alone someone who’d gone MIA after a single hookup. He had more important things to think about—better distractions to keep himself entertained. Besides, if you were going to play hard-to-get or whatever this was, then that was on you.

With a lazy smirk, he glanced around the classroom, letting his gaze settle on a few familiar faces. Plenty of girls would kill for his attention— he didn’t need to waste any more time thinking about you. He’d spent weeks hoping for some sign of you, but maybe it was time he reminded himself of how easy it was to move on.

After class, he slipped out of the room, his stride slow and confident as he scanned the hallways. Within minutes, he found what he was looking for—an upperclassman lingering by her locker, eyeing him with a coy smile. He’d seen her around before, noticed the way her gaze lingered whenever he passed by.

Perfect.

With a quick sweep of his hair, he put on that easy charm, the one that always drew people in, and walked over, leaning casually against the lockers beside her. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Long day?”

The girl blinked, caught off guard for a second before her lips curled into a smile. “Not anymore,” she replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

Gojo grinned, already shifting into the familiar rhythm of flirting that he knew so well. Within moments, they were leaning close, sharing secretive whispers and low laughs, her hand resting on his arm as she hung onto every word he said. He had a way of making them feel special, as if they were the only person in the world. He knew exactly what to say, how to let his gaze linger just long enough to make them squirm.

As he let the conversation drift into something more suggestive, he found himself glancing around, almost instinctively, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of you walking by. He mentally cursed himself for it, forcing himself to focus on the girl in front of him, but there was still that nagging sense of dissatisfaction. Even though he had her wrapped around his finger, it didn’t feel quite the same. She was willing, easy, and there was no thrill, no challenge. It felt…hollow.

For a moment, he wondered if this was just another way to forget you, a way to scratch an itch that wasn’t going away as easily as he’d hoped. The idea bothered him, and he dismissed it as quickly as it came. You didn’t matter—he was Gojo Satoru. He had girls practically throwing themselves at him every day. There was no reason he should be hung up on you.

-

The apartment was quiet—too quiet. Days slipped by in a gray monotony as you tried to settle into a space that felt as foreign as a stranger’s closet. There was nothing in the room that felt like you, just the sparse furniture your brother had left behind: a sagging couch with sunken cushions, a bed pushed awkwardly against the wall, and a handful of mismatched kitchen items. There were no family photos, no cozy blankets, not even a single potted plant to add life to the place. It was a hollow shell, his empty, seldom-used apartment, and now it was yours—a place to hide, but far from a home.

When you first came here, you thought you might be able to reach out, maybe even find comfort in a friend’s familiar voice. But the silence on the other end of the line grew heavier with each unanswered message. Some of your texts were left unread, others were marked “seen” and ignored. You’d started to convince yourself that somehow, they knew. They had to know about your mistake, your situation, and it was easier for them to turn away than to get involved. You could almost imagine their silent judgment, the whispers they might share when you weren’t around.

You felt backed into a corner, as if the world had abandoned you just when you needed it most. The shame felt insurmountable, an invisible wall that stopped you from trying again, that convinced you this loneliness was what you deserved.

You could barely feel it —the life inside you, growing silently, quietly, but undeniably there. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself resting a hand on your stomach without even realizing, feeling for something that wasn’t quite there yet, but knowing soon it would be. A thousand questions swirled in your mind. What kind of life would this child have? Would they hate you for the world you brought them into, for the choices you’d made that they would have to live with? The thought was like a chill running through your veins, paralyzing and real in a way nothing else was.

Then, late at night, as the hours stretched out, other thoughts would creep in—thoughts you tried to push away, but that stubbornly returned. Abortion. You felt the word like a weight in your chest, a tightness that you couldn’t swallow, but that was always there. In the dead silence of the apartment, you sometimes let yourself entertain the thought, if only for a moment, thinking how much easier it might be to turn away from this path. But then the guilt would wash over you, sinking deeper with every beat of your heart. It was a decision you couldn’t bring yourself to make, no matter how overwhelming everything felt.

You weren’t even sure you could hold your own life together, let alone bring another one into it. You hated feeling so trapped, as though every choice led to pain, no matter what you did. The idea of being a mother, of taking on this monumental responsibility, filled you with a dread that was hard to admit. It was as if each new day only added to a burden you were too afraid to carry yet too scared to set down. The future felt murky and shadowed, a looming unknown that swallowed up every glimmer of hope.

Sometimes, you’d find yourself standing by the window, gazing down at the quiet, dimly lit street below, lost in thoughts of an alternate life. What would it feel like to walk away from all this weight, to leave the fear and uncertainty behind? You let yourself imagine it—a life where you were free again, unburdened. But even as the fantasy flickered in your mind, there was a small, stubborn part of you that held on, that whispered maybe. Maybe you could carry this through. Maybe, despite everything, you could find a way to make this work.

To keep yourself grounded, you tried to build a routine. Every morning, you’d scroll through endless job listings, though each one felt like a reminder of the uncertainty surrounding you. Most positions didn’t seem right or possible for you now, but you kept looking. It was something to hold onto, some kind of structure when everything else felt like it was slipping through your fingers. You even organized the sparse kitchen, setting up the cabinets with a kind of precise care, as if putting things in order on the outside could bring some calm to the chaos inside.

One evening, as you sat cross-legged on the couch, the hum of distant traffic barely filled the silence. You stared at your phone screen, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion. Loneliness settled over you, thick and heavy, amplified by the silence that had become so familiar. It was almost stifling, forcing you to confront thoughts you’d tried hard to avoid.

You missed your family, even if things between you had become strained. You missed the comforting predictability of home, the familiar sounds, the routine. Here, each day felt hollow and directionless, like floating in a fog with no sense of where you were headed. Sometimes, you’d sit there waiting, hoping for something to change, some sign that things would be okay, but the realization that it was entirely up to you weighed heavily.

A knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts, sharp and unexpected in the stillness. Your heart gave a nervous jump as you hesitated, then forced yourself to cross the room. The apartment was usually so quiet, every sound amplified in the emptiness, and this interruption felt almost intrusive. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you opened the door to see the mailman standing there, holding a small, official-looking envelope in his hand.

“Here you go. Have a nice day,” he said with a nod, handing it over before turning to leave.

You mumbled a thank-you, barely audible, closing the door slowly as you stared down at the envelope. The stiff paper, the way your name was printed in impersonal black ink—it all radiated a sense of cold formality that sent a wave of dread curling in your stomach. You tore it open with shaking hands, telling yourself it was probably just another notice, a formality from the school.

But as your eyes scanned the letter, a sickening realization washed over you. It wasn’t just a reminder or a request for information. It was a notification—a final, official statement that you’d been dropped from school because of unpaid tuition. Your parents had stopped covering your fees without any warning, leaving the balance unpaid. And because you hadn’t attended in weeks, the school had processed it as a withdrawal.

You read the words again, trying to make sense of them, as if they would change on a second pass. But they stayed the same, cold and unyielding, spelling out a reality you hadn’t prepared for. The letter offered no alternatives, no appeal. Either you somehow paid the balance yourself, or you would be permanently removed from the roster.

A numb disbelief settled over you as you sank onto the couch, clutching the letter tightly. They’d actually done it. They’d cut you off without a word, leaving you adrift, stripped of the one place you’d thought you could depend on. A mix of anger and hurt bubbled up inside you, but the betrayal was what stung the most.

Your mind raced, thoughts colliding in a frantic spiral. What would you do now? Leaving school meant giving up on so many things—dreams you’d quietly held onto, plans that seemed so certain not long ago. It was like everything you’d worked toward, every late night studying and early morning hustle, had been erased in an instant. This wasn’t just a setback— it felt like a wall you’d crashed into with no way around.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you swallowed them back, forcing yourself to press your lips into a hard line. There was no one you could turn to for help, no one who could wave a magic wand and fix this.

You sat there on the couch, feeling the weight of the letter in your hand like a stone, its meaning sinking in deeper and deeper. The room seemed even colder, emptier, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. Every step you’d taken had been building toward something, and now that path was gone, wiped away in the span of a single letter.

No matter what mistakes you’d made, you’d never expected your own family to cut you off 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲. You wanted to scream, to call them, to make them hear you and see what they’d done—but that door felt closed too, like an argument already lost. The bitter realization settled in— of course they weren’t going to reach out- they weren’t going to help. Afterall, they were the ones that kicked you out in the first place.

You glanced down at your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen as you debated sending another message to one of your friends. Maybe you could explain everything, maybe they’d understand, maybe they’d reach back and give you a lifeline. But a familiar fear held you back. The weight of your situation, your mistake, felt too heavy to burden anyone else with, and every time you imagined reaching out, a voice in the back of your mind reminded you that they hadn’t been there for you before. Why would they be there now?

The silence in the apartment grew louder, pressing in on you until it was almost unbearable. Desperate for a distraction, you got up and wandered aimlessly through the small space, moving things around on the counter, straightening the already-neat cupboards, just doing anything to keep your hands busy. But the distraction was short-lived, and the reality of your situation crept back in.

The future felt terrifyingly empty, an open void where all your plans used to be. The only clear thing was that you had no other choice now but to figure this out on your own. Slowly, a stubborn resolve began to build beneath the panic. You were here, alone, but that didn’t mean you had to stay stuck. Maybe, somehow, you could make this work. You could find a job, save up, find a way to get back into school. It felt like an impossible task, but it was the only path left.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your laptop and opened up a job-search site, scrolling through the endless list of options. Most were dead ends—part-time retail or night shifts that didn’t even pay enough to cover the rent suguru is payinh. But you forced yourself to keep looking, moving through page after page, searching for anything that might be a start, a way forward.

The hours slipped by, the weight of the decision settling over you like a cold blanket, but you kept scrolling, kept hoping that something would spark the possibility of change.

After what felt like hours scrolling through listings and filling out applications, your eyes grew tired, the screen blurring in front of you. You needed air, space to breathe, to feel something other than the weight pressing down on your chest. With a sigh, you closed your laptop, abandoning it on the couch, and made your way over to the small balcony just off the living room.

Stepping outside, you were greeted by the crisp night air, a chill that wrapped around you, cutting through the dullness. The street below was quiet, dim streetlights casting long shadows across the empty pavement. Leaning against the railing, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the cold settle into your skin, grounding you, if only for a moment. The city felt vast from here, stretching out endlessly, full of people going about their lives, yet here you were, feeling like the only one left adrift.

As you opened your eyes, you gazed out over the neighborhood, the distant hum of cars a low, steady comfort. For a fleeting moment, you felt a strange sense of freedom, as if up here on this balcony, the problems inside couldn’t quite reach you. It was quiet, peaceful even, the world below carrying on, oblivious to your struggles.

You’d imagined such a different future, one where you’d be surrounded by friends, pursuing your passions, finding yourself. But now? It all felt like a distant memory, something that had happened to someone else entirely.

The sky above was cloudy, with only a few stars managing to peek through. You stared up, trying to find some kind of sign, something to remind you that you weren’t entirely alone, that maybe there was still a chance for things to change.

You stayed there a while, letting the cold numb the tension in your body, staring into the distance, thinking about what you’d do next. The thought of reaching out for help gnawed at you, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to take that step. Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was just the fear of rejection. Either way, you knew that whatever came next would be up to you.

Your gaze drifted downward, tracing the shapes of the buildings, the shadows cast by streetlights, when a familiar flash of white caught your eye. Your heart clenched involuntarily. Gojo.

He was strolling down the sidewalk, his stride as arrogant and carefree as ever, his laughter echoing faintly up toward you. His arm was draped around the shoulders of a girl who leaned into him, her face turned up toward him with a bright smile, entirely captivated. They looked close, intimate, like they were the only two people in the world. Watching them, a dull ache pulsed in your chest, stirring a cocktail of emotions you didn’t want to face.

You gripped the railing tighter, your knuckles whitening. Memories clawed their way up, memories of him—of his smirk, his mocking words, the way he’d cornered you like he had every right. Gojo had always been cruel, but he wielded his charm like a weapon, drawing people in only to watch them squirm when he showed his true colors. He had treated you the same way, toying with you, using you, and then discarding you without a second thought.

The girl beside him had no idea, you thought bitterly. She was seeing the Gojo who played his part so well, the smooth talker, the charmer, the boy who seemed like he could do no wrong. But you knew better. You knew what lay beneath that mask, the callousness he could hide behind his easy smiles. And now, there he was, laughing without a care, completely untouched by everything he’d done to you, while you were left to piece yourself back together.

A cold, bitter anger welled up inside you, mingling with the helplessness you tried so hard to ignore. He had stolen something from you—something you could never get back. He is the reason you got kicked out and have a hard life now.

And yet here he was, walking down the street as if nothing had happened, as if you didn’t exist, a careless reminder of how easily he’d been able to walk away from the pain he’d caused.

🏷️ @watyousayin @zukowantshishonourback @wiqxx @jhutchlover67 @xxemmarldxx @sadmonke @chilichopsticks @neptunieesworld @sodoney @nessielovesfood @polarbvnny @mwtsxri @mynahx3 @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @reader69sviewpoint @emryb @starlightanyaaa @kiramdd @promiseofeywa @xuxieroll @tqd4455 @wateronlyhaha @stillpanicking @starrylibras @latorsgatorz @melancholysanatomy @cherryblossomly @littledemoness15 @thatsopanu @throwmethroughawindow @xkittiecatx @yihona-san06 @aikuoliverswife @mellow-mewow @r0ckst4rjk @virtuapicklequirkreader @heijihattorisgf @meoneee777 @ih8erika @haitanibros0007 @certainduckanchor @alisonyus @nothisispatrick300

[johnbrand]

The Resort

It was another Friday afternoon at an exclusive, private resort. The only way to get to the property was by the resort’s own transportation, the bus filled with 40 or so gay men arriving promptly as always. They were typically chatty, the usual friendly-flirty with each other before they would begin bragging about their lifestyles and work. Bear or twink, hairy or hairless, lots of boasting and a few not-so-subtle hints that their relationships would be non-existent for the weekend.

I made sure to greet each of them as they entered the main building, handing them their room keys and identification badges. All of them were assigned separate rooms, although most joked they would not be using them over the weekend. I always withheld a chuckle at those remarks, knowing better than their catty ways. Each of them had been preselected, carefully selected from a database of all LGBTQ+ individuals in the city. When the invitation had been sent out, they had no idea that only gay men were invited to the resort.

Soon, it was time for the party to begin. Within the booming house music played my special audio track, humming pleasantly beneath the sexual chaos on the dancefloor. I always kept my eye on a particular guest over the course of their stay; I enjoyed watching an intimate progression throughout our time together. For this weekend I had chosen Nicki: a small, meek college student who found himself more often in a library than a club. The young boy was one of my favorite types to watch.

The shift itself is clear, if one knows what to look for. Some guys stood a little straighter, correcting the hip that had previously popped unconditionally. Shorts grew longer, and maybe a few stretched out into plain, baggy pants to display little effort in fashion. Abs tightened up, pecs twitched, and biceps pumped all around the party. But the men just assumed it was the lights and sweat playing tricks on their eyes. Had they always been able to so easily define each other’s muscles?

Slowly, things would begin to shift physically as the men would drift apart from each other. They had started the night playfully rubbing up against the other attractive, sexually-like minded creatures, but now they found themselves a bit more distanced, creating space out of respect and something else. Being so close to a man had sort of become…a bit nauseating. 

Instead of playing with each other, they would eventually begin to play with themselves, whether they realized it or not. Hand crammed down their shorts, either softly pawing or stretching seams. Some were soon even grunting or mumbling slurs to themselves right in the middle of the dancefloor. The virility of such an act in public was becoming indifferent to them, they were being told it was simply a natural thing to do.

Most men were easily converted to more heterosexual destinies, but a few were often drug out of the spell accidentally. Take Nicki for example, who I spied as he backed away from the party. His pre-conceived caution had made him aware of the changes happening around him, although he had yet to realize he had been affected already too. Nicki had gained a few inches, and his shirt had magically evaporated to reveal two dense pillows above a rippling set of abdominals.

Nicki left the dancefloor as quietly as possible, assuming he could escape. But he could have never known the special audio had not been playing from the speakers, but instead the identification badge that had been handed to him upon arrival. It would be repeating the special audio as long as I wanted it too, brainwashing up until the moment they left to cause permanent results. The physical changes would be long finished by then, but the mental modifications took the full stay to hold. 

After giving him a head start, I exited out an employee door to find our lost Nicki. About 30 minutes later I caught up to him, frantically rubbing his body down, hoping to somehow clean his acts. His muscles had grown even larger during our time apart, and an impressive funk was now registerable from my position a few feet away. During our time apart, Nicki had ejaculated to the thought of a woman. He did not realize that each future interaction with his thickening cock would reconnect that pleasure with the imagery in the female body. My programming instructed them that it felt good to adjust, give in to what was natural.

By the time the identification badges were collected, the 40 or so men who reloaded onto the bus were completely changed. Over the course of the weekend, the once rowdy gays of all ages had been converted into God-fearing, fag-jeering, chick-leering men. Although he would never know it, I possessed a fatherly pride watching Nick (the “i” at the end had disappeared as fast as submissive demeanor) ascend onto the bus. I waved as my newest group of guests were sent back to the city before instructing my employees to get to work. After all, we had our next batch arriving at the end of the week.

[chaedomi]

𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍 ✦ twtptflob

fem!child!reader x the blue pedelian (platonic!yan), kidnapping, mild injury, implied violence, unhealthy relationships; flowers don't attract butterflies alone. suddenly, others are gravitating to you, expanding your long list of obsessive admirers. pt. 1 ꨄ — masterlist

HOW DID it end up like this? It all happened in the span of one night while you were asleep. And when you reopened your eyes, you quickly discovered that you were no longer inside your bedroom. You had time to explore every place in your manor, so when you couldn’t identify which part of the manor you were in, you began to panic and overthink.

Your distress got worse when a silver-haired female burst into the room and grabbed you into a hug as if there wasn’t some problem with this. At this point, you began to cry, fully convinced that you were kidnapped, pushing the woman away from you, and startling her. It was in chaos for a while, your screams mixing with your words as you wailed for your freedom. The woman tried to reassure you with sweet words, inclusive of the maids present who stepped in to assist by dangling pretty jewelry in front of your face to distract you.

Unfortunately, their efforts to appease you only increased your wails. When a masculine figure barged into the room this time, it was only then you stopped crying, in favor of blinking at him while the stray tears fell from the corner of your eyes. Staring at the male, you knew he looked familiar, your panicked mind just couldn’t identify who. 

When he approached you with a gentle smile, patted your head, and began this monologue of ‘protecting’ you, you finally put the pieces together; this male was no other than the heir of The Blue Pedelian, CASSIS. Oh, boy…

In truth, your kidnapping was all ROXANA's fault, and she had no choice but to admit that. God forbid if her family found out that she was the whole reason for your disappearance, it would even make her kind-hearted mother hold some form of grudge against her and result in her execution. Luckily, no one was able to trace the doings back to her… except her red-eyed freak of an older brother.

Satisfying her curiosity was not worth it. As they say, it killed the cat. Now, she was stuck reaping the consequences of her stupidity; distraught over your disappearance, and additional work that could have been avoided, in her plan.

…If her life didn't depend on his, you bet she would have already retaliated without mercy. How foolish, she gave him an inch and he took a mile.

But, who is to blame other than herself? To explain, it was a fleeting thought that crossed her mind one morning to which she initially paid no mind… till it stubbornly stuck inside her brain. From what she remembered, in The Abysmal Flower, Sylvia displayed extreme and obsessive feelings toward you, despite being the enemy, willing to risk her safety to keep you by her side. Due to her intervention, however, Sylvia remained out of the picture. Still, she began to wonder.

If Sylvia wasn’t immune to your adorable charms, could it possibly be the same for Cassis? And thus, it marked the beginning of her little experiment. It came as no surprise to her that Cassis was on guard when she first introduced you to him. After all, almost every Agriche child was a demon spawn.

Regardless of the precautions Cassis took, his guard quickly crumbled once he was exposed to your innocence and purity, much to Roxana’s amusement. His hostile attitude quickly evaporated, he even held you on his lap (with Roxana’s permission), reciting stories that would intrigue a child your age. …She wished he was that cooperative with her as well.

She continued this pattern for a few weeks… every day, she would spare some time to take you to Cassis and observe how it played out in the distance. And each time, it never failed to entertain her. A righteous and kept man like him becomes nothing more than a slave for a child, an enemy’s child. She was long satisfied with her discovery, it’s just that Cassis was always in a better mood and more willing to listen after he spent his time with you.

But the day Cassis got too comfortable and had the guts to refer to you as one of his SIBLINGS, she realized, she may have spoiled him too much. She never had a problem when Sylvia referred to you as her ‘little sister.’ However, that was BEFORE she was thrown into the novel world. Now that she had the opportunity to experience your kindness herself, anyone who tried to make their claim on you outside the family is nothing LESS aggravating. And that was the end of your little visits.

That’s when it went downhill. Of course, Cassis was quick to pick up on your sudden absence throughout the days. He tried to ask, but once Roxana's tone progressively got more aggressive the longer he persisted, he finally got the hint. He wasn't seeing you again.

Roxana was grateful that Cassis had shut his mouth after a while. But, she found it odd how compliant he remained without your presence. More so, she hated the way he stared at her, a hidden intent she couldn't figure out in his eyes. It intensified when she gave him a map of the manor, a faint sighting of a smirk ghosting his lips. …Out of all people, Roxana would have never expected Cassis to kidnap someone. Trust no one, as they say. What an arse… Repaying her good deeds with this.

And so, the manor of The Black Agriche was thrown into a frenzy, having lost something very precious. Unless Roxana wanted to stir more trouble with hasty actions, she must sit quietly for now. …At the very least she didn’t need to worry about your safety. Unlike The Black Agriche, The Blue Pedelian will never torture their captives, let alone a young child like you…

Meanwhile, you were having your own crisis. This was a very drastic change. Although the violent nature of your family often terrifies you, you have grown used to it… kind of. Now, with the serene environment of The Blue Pedelians, you've grown antsy, anticipating some form of chaos to arise.

Ignoring how he took you without your agreement (no matter how hard he tried to justify his actions in a good light), you felt more comfortable being around CASSIS than the rest of the family. You weren’t sure if the times spent together back in your manor contributed to your lack of fear around him or relieved over the fact that your situation could have been very worse, and you didn’t care all that much. Cassis's attitude toward you didn’t change from when he was held prisoner, instead, his doting habits only increased now that his actions were not limited and monitored. He spoils you a lot, more than he spoils his younger sister. He will try his hardest to provide whatever you want, as long as it stays within the 'reasonable' range.

And by 'reasonable' he means, stop asking him to return you home. Suddenly, he understood Roxana's frustration. Is this what she felt when he continuously persisted? He doesn't get why you would want to return home out of all places; your family is vile.

It's not like you wanted to return, you had to. Although you wished to run away and never return, the odds were still not in your favor for you to make your escape plan. Something also told you that residing in The Blue Pedelian Manor was its own kind of hell…

The possible feud that can brew if your whereabouts were revealed made your skin crawl with fear. Knowing your value between the two families as well, you would be caught in the crossfire, and who knows what would happen to you then… You were trying to make things better for you, not destroy all your chances.

Cassis still didn't listen to your concerns (he never does), shutting down your complaints with a stern glare. …You just hope whatever war was to break out, it would happen later rather than sooner…

Just what was wrong with you? He’s trying his hardest to get you accustomed to your new surroundings, spoiling you with gifts, spending time with you along with his sister, anything to put you at ease. Yet, you just didn’t care! All you did was flush his efforts down the drain. He thought he was making progress with you, so he would never expected it, hell, even imagined it. But, when he caught you creeping around the exit gates, your freaked-out expression said it all. Now, here you were, leg chained to the bedpost back inside your prison-like bedroom. Seeing you chained up reminded him of himself, and it was interesting to see the roles switch to some extent. Truthfully, your tears pained him, but, he didn’t see the point in you crying. He wasn’t doing anything bad and he wished that you’d stop acting as if he was.

"Why can’t you understand that this is for your benefit?"

Oh? SYLVIA adores you? Why, that's no secret and is obvious to anyone who witnesses the interaction between you and her. Why wouldn't she love you!? You're everything she ever wanted in a younger sister… well, minus the looks, but, she can get past that!

MORE doting than Cassis, it's overbearing, honestly. Ever since your first encounter, you don't remember a time when you were left alone; it's always some lousy excuse to be around you. She hugs, kisses, cuddles, squishes, and any affectionate gesture she can think of, she does it to you. It was like she was trying to merge herself with you.

Honestly, her compassion spooked you. Her behavior reminded you a lot of your second stepmother, Maria. So, you weren't surprised when she had some hostile reaction whenever a maid would unintentionally interrupt your 'bonding' time. The sweeter they are, the more aggressive. Well, at least there weren't any dead bodies scattered on the ground…

Have you ever been so upset that you began to cry? Sylvia is a perfect demonstration of that. Perhaps you were right to compare her to Maria, the rage evident on her face was akin to the deadly glare your stepmother wore when she was furious. Flashbacks clouded your mind of how Maria snapped when a servant accidentally spilled milk on your gown. This situation was much different; a maid somehow cut your hand with the teacup. The one time Sylvia thought it was a good idea to let you get some fresh air outside your room, the fun atmosphere was ruined by something silly as this. It’s no surprise if your family lashed out, but to see a sophisticated woman such as Sylvia spew out words of profanity and behave so hostile was unexpected. At the very least, you appreciated she held back for your sake. With the way her hands shook with rage the longer she chewed out the maid, you had the impression Sylvia wanted to do much more than a stern talking to.

“There you are! I looked for you everywhere. I was beginning to worry that you’ve run away, but, you won’t do that to me, right?”

Your fear of RISCHEL was reasonable. Given his position inside his household, you two never met that often. However, the rare times you do meet, his piercing gaze never fails to make you shrink back on yourself. If you think about it, his hateful attitude made sense. You were one of the many offsprings of his biggest enemy, Lante, and said enemy kidnapped his son and tormented him mercilessly. Some of his son’s many torturers included Lante’s children, so you could just imagine the many scenarios that went through his mind. You don’t blame him if he was tempted to torment you, solely for Lante having a taste of his own medicine.

While Rischel’s expression came across as wanting to bury you six feet under, in truth, he was very much intrigued by your existence. It was confusing to see his son return with an unconscious child after escaping. And for a moment he feared that his son went mad when the child held in his arms was an Agriche and pleaded for your protection.

He was hesitant (for good reason) but ultimately agreed in the end. If his son saw something valuable in you, then there must be some worth in keeping you around. However, it didn’t mean he automatically trusted you. Without your knowledge, he monitored you, planting eyes everywhere. Any suspicious activity he was informed of would be enough validation for him to throw you out with no hesitation.

…So how exactly did his wariness morph into overwhelming softness toward you? (like father like son) The feeling just dawned upon him and he noticed it all: your mannerisms, your innocence, it slowly rubbed on him in a positive light. This was strange. He wonders if you had used a spell on him, no one should fall under anyone’s whims so suddenly as if you possessed this charm that melts even the hearts of the cold-blooded. But, oh, did the feeling around you feel so nice. And soon, he simply gave in to the desire to love you and protect you.

You realized how much more tolerable he became of your presence, to your relief. Even so, the feelings you saw on the outside couldn’t begin to compare to the rapidly developing obsessive feelings he harbored for you. And by the time you began to pick up on the dangerous signals, the damage was already done.

You were beyond speechless when you looked into the reflection of the mirror, staring at someone else entirely. Her hair was a shade of pure silver, and her eyes resembled the golden rays of the sun. As you reached your hand out to touch the glass, your body froze as reality sunk in. This was not another person, but rather you, with a new appearance and identity you were forced to carry. Looking over your shoulder, you glanced at the faces of Rischel, Cassis, and Sylvia, hoping for all of this to be one big joke. But, the pleased glances they returned alerted you that this situation was far from a joke, and you had to accept your new fate.

“Sylvia was correct. This look suits you perfectly.”

You were stressed and rightfully so. How could all of this happen? And why did it have to be you? You were still young and didn’t deserve to deal with these problems. In such a short amount of time, along with new obsessors formed, you temporarily resigned to a new lifestyle, switching from agriche to pedelian.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

[cringe--is--dead]

Nekoma Manager Headcanons

To start: talk about chaos.

I imagine the manager!reader as a 2nd year, as stated in my first one shot.

You look up to the third years, though the way you and Kuroo act you'd never admit it to his face.

Once you grow comfortable with the team, and vice versa, the two of you bicker like siblings.

Kai is who you gravitate to the most, he's so calm and quiet, you two grew closer faster because of this.

Yaku and Kuroo were both lowkey jealous; they both work on being doting upperclassmen in their own ways and now their manager is anxious around them? Heartbroken.

The first years think you hung the stars.

Lev is always trying to impress you with his moves, which more than often results in him missing a spike or getting hit in the face with what was supposed to be a receive.

Most of his failed attempts end with Yaku scolding him and you are torn between allowing him to shape his team and stepping in to play peacemaker.

Shibayama is the first team member to confide in you regarding any anxiety they had while playing; he compares himself to Yaku so much that it broke your heart, you two talked and you made him see he had made the team for a reason, and he left feeling much better.

Teshiro is more awkward or shy when approaching you, he may have been a first-year when you met him, but he knew the team hadn't had a manager in a long time. He was worried they might scare you off, specifically one of the... second years... But you stuck around! He liked to be around you, even if neither of you talked all the time, your presence was enjoyable. He also tended to be one of the only members (he and Kai) that didn't get scolded or yelled at.

Inuoka reminds you of a puppy, regardless of being on the team of "cats". He was actually the first member of the team to fully approach you, more than a simple introduction. He was so excited that you were their manager, it definitely helped you feel a lot more comfortable. Did you process everything he said to you? No. Was it endearing as hell? Yes.

If Kenma isn't sitting with Kuroo on bus rides he's sitting with you, you enjoy watching him playing his games, that or he enjoys the peace whenever you nap on the bus. Once he even let you play a game on his switch. Once.

Yamamoto is really excited to show you off at any and all practice matches they have. You're so supportive of them all that it makes him really emotional, and you've learned to just pat his head and walk away. You once showed up to an away game with your nails painted in your team colors and you watched that man genuinely weep.

Fukanaga loves to make you laugh whenever the team's quiet or having a more serious meeting. He learned your humor so fast it's dangerous. You can never be upset around him, he reads you like an open book, and whatever worry follows you around is quickly destroyed by him and his shining personality.

Like I said; you and Kuroo have a sibling like relationship once you're comfortable with the team. He leans his arm against your head like a headrest, you make fun of his attempts of sounding cool. The team finds it hilarious, and other than Yaku and Kenma, you're one of the few people he's terrified to piss off.

Kai is the upperclassman you look up to the most, he's calm and collected, smart and nice. He's everything you strive to be as a student and an upperclassman. He helps you study, he helped you learn about volleyball and all the info that comes with that when you first joined, he made sure to include you in any and all group hangouts when you were new.

Kai supremacy.

Yaku and you have, not to sound like I'm stuck in the 2020 fandom, but "parenting" personalities together. Yaku yells at Lev, you follow behind by telling Lev you two care about him and just want to see him get better! Yaku may worry when a teammate gets minorly injured, but you fret, despite knowing minor injuries occur in this sport. The time where you're on the same page exactly is whenever you take the opportunity to bully Kuroo.

He hates it.

I have to say: years ago when I first got into Haikyuu I made an OC for it, and she was Nekoma's manager. This entire thing is self-indulgent. If I was any good at art I'd have so many comic series with her. Sad.

Also I just saw the movie so I am hyperfocused on my boys.

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (4) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo @ddanasjk @luvismenu @remgeolli @parapiop7 @lil0u0 @crazyovayou @mggv97 @thvgukk @rpwprpwprpwprw

//

when yoongi calls to confirm the results of the blood test, reality hits all over again. 

you’re pregnant. 

his voice was gentle, with the same calm professionalism he uses with all his patients… but it couldn’t mask his genuine warmth as he told you the news. you want to believe he sounded excited but it was hard to tell. you settle for the telling warmth in his tone instead.

hearing it out loud brought a whole new set of feelings—joy, fear, and then something else: the unavoidable question of how you’d tell your friends.

having a clingy friendgroup is not for the weak. 

but having a clingy adult friend group—the kind who carve out time for you amidst career chaos, endless emails, and hectic schedules—is something else entirely. 

they’re the type who know what you’re thinking before you can even say it. the type who catch your tone shifting over text and who will show up unannounced if they don’t hear from you for a day. they mean well, but keeping things under wraps with them is practically impossible.

which is why telling them worries you. 

you can’t hide it.

you know you can’t.

truth be told, you don’t want to. they’re your friends and you love them to death. this baby is worth every second of celebration.

the thought had barely settled before it started to plague you.

how exactly do you explain this to a group of people who work together? who run a whole practice together? a group who’ll want to plan out everything with you, to fuss over you like you’re a ticking time bomb, and who—above all—will probably have a shitload of questions you don’t have answers to. 

they’re the people you’ve shared birthdays with, career changes, heartbreaks, and random tuesday nights. now you’re going to share this news, but there’s no manual on explaining an accidental pregnancy to your closest friends without it sounding like a rom-com gone wrong.

a part of you already know how they’ll react. 

they’d be thrilled, supportive, maybe a little over-the-top. 

and then confused.

yoongi?

as the father?

… what, when, where, and why?

not that he’s a bad guy or anything but simply because there were no (obvious) moments that led up to this…

regardless, it’s like you can almost hear jimin’s gasp, feel jin’s bear hug, and imagine hyemi tearing up before tackling you in her usual affectionate way.

they’ll want to be there for every step of this (probably more than you can handle) but that’s the beauty of having friends who genuinely make the time… friends who go out of their way to show up—not just when it’s convenient but because they want to. they’re the type who, as adults, choose each other over and over again despite life’s demands. 

you all take pride in being involved in each other’s lives—big moments, small moments, and now…

this moment.

but exactly how much is there to be proud of when you explain how nasty you and yoongi were with each other?

how this mess could’ve been avoided if you didn’t beg for him to creampie you?

yeah…

that’s a tough one.

as you’re still trying to figure out how to break the news, your timer dings.

you pull the last tray of brown butter oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from the oven, the warm smell of melted chocolate filling the kitchen. you set the tray down with a sigh, hoping a night of stress-baking will take the edge off. but before you can even start on another batch, there’s a knock at your door.

before you can think to answer, hyemi is already pushing it open, holding an expensive wine bottle aloft like a trophy, her eyes alight with excitement.

“hyemi—”

“wine night!” she grins, crossing the room without hesitation, snagging a cookie from the cooling tray as she pushes the wine bottle toward you.

you catch the label and gasp. a prized chateau margaux. the kind of bottle she probably saved up for weeks (or borrowed namjoon’s credit card) to buy.

“you did not…” you say, eyes wide.

“oh, but i did,” she giggles, giving you a wink. “thank you, namjoon.”

you shake your head, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “i knew it.”

“well?” she nudges the bottle toward you. “what are you waiting for? let’s open this and—”

you hesitate, trying to find the words. “i… i can’t tonight… or for the next few months.”

her smile falters. she clutches the bottle closer, looking genuinely wounded.

“w-wait, what? but—i fought namjoon for this, you know? and you’ve wanted this bottle for forever!”

“hyemi, i have to tell you something—”

“are you breaking up with me?” she jokes, only half-serious as she takes another bite of her cookie.

you roll your eyes and grab the cookie back from her hand, taking a bite yourself.

“it’s not you, it’s me.”

she laughs, swiping the cookie back with a shrug. “so what is it? and holy shit, these cookies are insane—”

“i can’t drink.”

“why? you’ve gone to work hungover before.”

you struggle to find the words, fingers tightening slightly around the bottle in your hands.

“no, it’s not that. it’s… different.”

hyemi’s brow furrows, her eyes narrowing as she peers at you, picking up on your hesitation. “what? don’t tell me you’re on some sober cleanse or something.”

“no… hyemi, i…”

“i mean if you are, i totally support you. i just think there’s too much good wine in this world and not enough time—”

“i’m pregnant.”

hyemi’s jaw drops, her eyes widening. her mouth opens and closes in shock, but before she can get a word out, there’s a loud crash behind you both.

you whip around to see the rest of the guys standing at the doorway.

jimin is frozen, a shattered wine bottle at his feet, red liquid pooling across the entryway as he stares at you in wide-eyed disbelief.

your eyes lock with yoongi’s, who stands in the middle of the group, his expression soft and steady as he takes you in. he tilts his head, just slightly, a quiet, unspoken reassurance passing between you two. you can feel your heart hammering, cheeks burning as you try to focus on anything other than his gaze.

the silence stretches for a beat too long before taehyung breaks it. 

“mommy?”

this isn’t exactly how you pictured them reacting to the news. 

as you sit on your couch, the atmosphere feels heavy. they’re in disbelief, and the only way they know how to process it is by falling into their medical roles.

nam joon and jin, being the doctors they are, sit close to you and begin a quick physical assessment and blood pressure test.

nam joon carefully rolls up your sleeve, a comforting smile on his face that softens the tension in the room. 

“just relax your arm for me,” he hums, positioning the cuff around your upper arm. his fingers brush against your skin, and you can’t help but notice how professional he is, even amidst the whirlwind of emotions flooding the room.

“you’ve been feeling okay, right? any nausea or dizziness?” he asks, focusing intently on the task at hand.

“tired. sleepy. think i’m nauseous the most, though,” you admit. “i throw up… like every other day.”

he nods, squeezing the bulb to inflate the cuff. “that’s completely normal.” he pauses, glancing up at you. “are you okay? emotionally and mentally?”

you nod, glancing around the room. “i’m fine.” 

your eyes meet yoongi’s.

he’s seated directly across from you, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced. he’s watching you intently, with his usual cool indifference masking an intensity in his gaze. yoongi’s quiet presence anchors you, even though he says nothing.

should he say something?

what does he even say?

you don’t know.

he doesn’t know either.

as the cuff tightens around your arm, you take a deep breath, catching the supportive glances from everyone else nearby. their chatter fades into the background as nam joon’s focus brings you back to the moment.

“okay, let’s see what we have here,” nam joon murmurs, watching the gauge as the cuff slowly deflates. “hmmm. your pressure’s a little high but good overall. are you stressed?”

“a little right now,” you exhale. “guys, this is too much—“

“did you just do a home pregnancy test or go to the doctor?”

you freeze.

“oh shit,” taehyung calls from the doorway. he’s just been helping jimin and hobi clean up spilled wine. “screw the pregnancy test stuff—i wanna know who the babydaddy is.”

from the back, you hear jimin and hobi laugh as they finish picking up glass shards. taehyung raises a teasing brow. 

“okay but seriously… didn’t know you wanted a baby that bad, ___. could’ve just asked jungkook to help you out.”

yoongi straightens, shooting taehyung a sharp look. “alright. we good here? you guys did a quick physical and checked her blood pressure—”

“your babydaddy is clean, right?” jimin chimes in, feigning seriousness. “___, i hope he’s worth the labor and delivery.”

“oh my god. shut up,” you say, rolling your eyes.

it’s then that you glance at hyemi, who sits on the other side of the couch with jungkook. the two of them are stress-eating your cookies, crumbs dotting the space between them.

hyemi, chocolate smeared at the corner of her mouth, raises a brow. “is this why you’ve been so sick?”

“yeah,” you nod. “i got the confirmation yesterday.”

“yesterday?” her eyes widen, and she sets down the cookie, scooting closer to you. “oh my god, ___. this is huge! congratulations!” she grabs your hands, her excitement lighting up her face. “we’re happy about this, right? you want this?”

before you can answer, she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. you let yourself sink into her warmth, feeling the tension unravel.

“yes, i want this. ahhh! don’t make me cry,” you whisper, fighting back tears as you pull back, smiling through it. “god, it’s the pregnancy hormones.”

“already?” she gives you a small, amused smile and wipes at her eyes, fixing your hair. “i’m just so happy for you, ___. you’re going to be the best mom. seriously.”

“as long as her blood pressure stays stable—”

hyemi swats at him. “nam joon, shut up, yeah?”

yoongi lets out a quiet chuckle, leaning back with his hands in his pockets as he watches everyone swarm around you. though he’s giving his usual cool exterior, there’s something in his eyes—a soft, almost possessive gleam that’s hard to miss.

from the corner, jungkook sneaks in, sliding a little closer to you. 

“so,” he begins with a grin, “guess i’ll have to start calling you a milf now, huh?”

yoongi stiffens, jaw clenching almost imperceptibly, his eyes narrowing at jungkook. the tension isn’t lost on you as jungkook’s shoulder brushes against yours, and yoongi shifts in his seat, his gaze hardening in a way that feels oddly protective.

“so, seriously… who’s the babydaddy?” taehyung drawls from across the room, folding his arms with an amused smirk. “he’s clean, right? or should we head to the clinic and run a few tests? just to keep you and baby safe… big news and all, so we’re just trying to make sense of it.”

“god, you’re all insane.” you huff.

“maybe let ___ breathe,” yoongi mutters instantly. his gaze flicking between you and jungkook with a faintly annoyed look. “yah, she just confirmed she’s pregnant. that’s it.”

“that’s it,” you sigh repeating him. then, feeling a small wave of relief. “and honestly, why are the nurses in this room so immature? who can i report you guys to?”

jimin, taehyung, and jungkook laugh. 

“our bosses,” they reply in unison, completely unbothered.

the warmth of their support fills the room. 

as you soak in the moment, hyemi’s watchful eyes drift to yoongi.

he’s now casually seated beside you, close enough that his knee brushes against yours. every now and then, his hand lightly hovers by your arm or shoulder, his touch lingering just a little longer each time. hyemi tilts her head, something slowly clicking in her mind.

“wait a second,” she says, raising a brow. “yoongi… did you know about ___’s pregnancy before the rest of us?”

the room quiets, all eyes shifting to yoongi. before he can answer, jungkook—oblivious to the weight of the question—leans forward. 

“oh shit… is that what her blood test was for at the clinic? i might’ve accidentally seen the paperwork but didn’t peek—thought she was low on iron or something.”

silence falls over the room, each of them piecing things together. one by one, their eyes dart between you and yoongi, confusion shifting to surprise until jin’s eyes widen with realization.

“…wait,” jin’s voice is soft but full of shock.

yoongi keeps his gaze steady on you. 

his expression softening as he takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. his thumb brushes over your knuckles, a small smile tugging at his lips. it’s subtle but full of meaning, and you feel warmth pool in your chest, despite the tension.

then taehyung breaks the silence, his eyes wide, mouth slightly open as he points at yoongi with dawning realization.

“...daddy?”

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

PUT A WIFE BACK IN HER PLACE

KINKTOBER DAY 25 - SPANKING WITH MARTIN

Pairing.| Martin x fem!reader

Summary.| When Martin’s attempt to win your heart back with a nostalgic trip on a secluded Scottish island fails, he has one last resort to remind you who’s wife you are.

Warnings.| Dubcon, dry humping, spanking, arguing, infidelity, implied breeding.

Word count.| 1.4k

Notes.| This ain't that good but yolo because Martin is hot.

In Martin’s defense, you couldn’t say that he didn’t put in his all to revive your marriage, it’s been on the rocks for months now, every opportunity for intimacy always resulted in bickering at the best outcome. The arguments were daggering to the heart, zero remorse on either of your ends at times. But Martin was devoted to you, you were his world, he needed you more than oxygen. 

His marvelous plan on resparking your attraction to one another seemed to be working like a blender unplugged from the power outlet. This will mark your third time vacating on the secluded Scottish island. You were quiet the whole boat ride, but it went unphased by Doug, he merely chatted on with Martin. Your husband would glance over at you every now and then, but you were in a different world. 

With every day passing, Martin lost a handful of hope. Nothing was working like it used to. The way you’d smile at him when he’d come back after fishing had vanished. The gratitude for the small things he did for you was no more. Your marriage was flatlining. The small talk felt unbearable, turned shoulders made him want to rip his hair out. He only wanted to look at you, hold you, feel you. When you hid yourself in the bathtub, Martin felt his stomach turn in a mixture of shame and pleasure. How could you shy away from your husband? But then when was the last time he had even seen you naked. 

He ran across the coastal shore, his expression was stern as he sprinted as fast as he could. His ears went blocked, heart pounded uncontrollably in his chest as the aches in his muscles grew. When he reached the top of the cliff, his hands formed into balls as he smacked the air. 

“Fuck!” Martin roared, a vein popped out in his forehead. 

Martin heaved out, his hands rested above his knees as he tried to catch his breath. After inhaling his asthma pump, his hands searched into his pocket for his phone. His fingers jabbed at the screen, then he scrolled to keep his motivation alive. He flicked through the countless screenshots of evidence, his grip tightened after each swipe. 

I want to be with you. 

I think of you every night. 

You’re in my dreams, I picture the day when we’re together. 

Now, Martin wasn’t sure of the details of your affair, only the little love messages George would send you, you’d always respond with something similar back, but your level of passion was lower, he was sure of it. 

I love you. 

He stared at that message for the longest, because it was sent by you the night before you two left. Why didn’t you love Martin anymore, your husband, the man you declared your vows to, the man you devoted your life for. In sickness and in health, you were his. 

Martin decided to walk back to the cottage, for the chaos would unfold that night. Every few steps, Marin would roughly rub his eyes. The smell of the seaside did little to ease his stresses, the wind was picking up, the scent of rain grew.

When he entered the cottage, you took a moment to even acknowledge him, your attention drawn to the book you were reading. You gave him a small smile, his jaw locked, he turned his heel and headed to the kitchen. Martin did try hard to remain calm, he poured himself a large glass of red wine, then another for you. As he handed the glass to you, he sucked on his lower lip. 

You thanked him, oblivious to his boiling anger. Impulsively, Martin took a large swig of the nectar and clinked it onto the table. His eyes burnt into you, but you ignored him completely, you were driving him mad. 

“So, does he fuck you good?” Martin abruptly asked. 

You choked on your wine, your eyes darted up at him as you analyzed him, surely he couldn’t know? It was as if you were a deer caught in headlights, Martin could swear he could hear your heartbeat race. You were waiting for the punchline, but eventually realized it wasn’t coming. 

“What are you going on about?” you replied, trying to remain cool as if you weren’t a kettle boiling on the hot stove. 

“Does George fuck you good?” Martin clarified, huffing out in anger, his name tasted like venom on his tongue. 

“Martin” you warned. 

“I should have figured it out sooner, I always knew he had the hots for you, but I didn’t realize you were such a little whore” Martin insulted. 

George worked with you, and yes, he did always have the hots for you. Despite your constant rejection, he kept on making sly advances on you. Until one day, when you were fed with your sickening feuds with Martin, that you just gave in to George’s affection. 

In a childish manner, you abruptly stood up and turned your direction to the hallway. Martin followed you just as quickly and you flinched, he looked unhinged. 

“Step back Martin!” you demanded as you hurried to the hallway. 

“Where are you going to go! It’s just you and I honey, a husband and his wife” Martin teased harshly as he followed after you. 

When you didn’t stop, he yanked you back by the shoulder and shoved you against the wall. You cried out as he pressed his body up against yours, his face drew close to yours. 

“You think I’m not manly enough for you? Aye!” Martin shouted by your ear, you winced at his behavior. 

“No Martin!” you cried. 

Martin’s eyes squinted together as he felt the tears forming. His hand smacked on the wall besides your head in anger, you shrieked out. 

“Why don’t you fucking love me anymore” Martin snarled, his face twitched. 

There was no response from you. His hands gripped onto your curves and you gasped out as you felt his erection grow against you. His stubble brushed over your heating cheek, you shuddered out. Quickly, he flipped your front onto the wall, you gasped out and swallowed down the ball of spit in your throat.

“You’re my fucking wife, you’ll stay with me” Martin determined with a nod. 

“O-okay, just calm down” you shuddered. “Martin!” you yelped out as he yanked your comfy pants down to your thighs. 

“Shut it, just giving you what you deserve” Martin responded harshly and he forcefully pressed your face on the wall. 

You choked on your sob as he smacked your rear harshly. His hand pressed against your shoulder blade, you were confined against the plastered wall as he spanked your cheeks. Never has your husband been so rough with you, he was always gentle, kind and thoughtful. Martin would mutter curse words under his breath as he felt his cock twitch in his athlete shorts. The sounds of his slaps echoed throughout the walls, you bit back your moans, your eyes almost rolling back as you unknowingly squeezed your thighs together to create friction. 

“I love you” Martin confessed, his lips pressed to your ear as he continued to bring his palm to your flaming skin. 

“I know you do, Martin” you panted out, your breathing rugged, hips shifting. 

“I’d do anything for you” Martin grunted as he hit you with full force.

“I know you would!” you whined. 

His blue eyes could see how your body was reacting, how horny you were becoming. Martin heaved out, his body molded against yours as he rubbed his erection over your stinging cheeks. Your knees felt weak, his body weight was holding you up. Desperately, his humps humped against your ass, Martin could hardly control his desires. 

“You want a baby?” Martin whispered, almost romantically. 

“W-what?” you whimpered out. 

“Do you want a baby, my darling? I’ll put one in you right now if it’d fix everything” Martin explained, his hands rubbing your hips. 

You stammered out as you tried to think logically. A baby was all that you wanted, for so long. But Martin just always put his job first and shooed away the possibilities of creating a family together. You hated him for it. But now he wants to change?

“Come on, how many arguments did we have over it? How badly does it make you despise me?” Martin continued on, his head rubbed against yours. 

You mumbled out, you tried to think of George, of your plans. But he seemed to be disappearing from your mind. Martin’s hands caressed over your stomach, you moaned out gently and turned around to your husband, your lips neared his.

[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 3

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Y/N looks forward to the next time her and Feyre go to the Night Court. Choosing to stay out of the way in the Spring she is visited by the High Lord and threats are made. Few months of learning how to read and Feyre finally warming up to the Night Court, the next time they return to the Spring Y/N is caught of guard and chaos ensues.

Content Warning: 18+ brief depictions of abuse, Tamlin being a dick, Ianthe appearance, unwanted groping (Not from any of our beloved night court folks or Spring court), blood, separation.

Word Count: 5.6k

chapter 2 Masterlist

A/N: I'm sorry if it seems to be a bit sped up but I simply could not bring myself to write more filler chapters! I hope you enjoy!

After my argument with Feyre, I locked myself in my room for the three weeks. Feyre had tried to come apologize and she tried to come in, but I had made sure my door was locked. I didn’t really move from my chair other than to change and sneaking into the kitchen late at night to eat. To avoid running the High Lord, Lucien or my sister.

There had been a continuous warmth on my tattooed wrist, Rhys’ reminder that I wasn’t alone. On the bad days where sleep evaded me, I tried to send back a wave of appreciation, unsure if he could feel it. Chances were he we were sleeping when I sent so he probably didn’t even know, but I did appreciate him.

Feyre and I have never had many fights and it was even rarer that the fight had resulted in us not talking and working it out. The last time was right before Tamlin took us away.

Feyre slammed her bow on the table. “You should have been here. What were you thinking going out there?”  I scoffed as I dropped the wolf carcass on the table, facing my twin whose eyes flared with anger and a hint of fear. “You could have died!”

The door creaked open, and I glanced to see Nesta and Elain emerge from the bedroom. Their eyes went wide taking a look at the beast on the table. Our dad remained near the fireplace not acknowledging that Feyre and I had returned. Not like he noticed when we left. “Feyre, you could have died to. I have just as much skill at hunting like you, we work better together, and it worked out look at what we caught.” I held out my arm to show the wolf. “I love you, and I didn’t want you going out alone tonight. I’m glad I was there to help you take this beast down.”

Feyre blew up, “I could have killed you! I didn’t know you were there!”

I gave her a doubtful look and cross my arms, “I have been able to sense your presence since we have been children, you definitely knew I was there.”

Feyre ran her fingers through her brown hair not caring if she got blood in it. “Maybe I wanted to be alone, figured Nesta would give you some good quality time. At least she doesn’t despise your presence.”

My mouth dropped and quickly recovered, “Are you fucking serious, Fey? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Girls,” Our father croaked from his spot in the fireplace, only then that I noticed he was carving something in his hands. “That’s quite enough. Y/N your mother and I have taught you better than to use that type of language.”

I rolled my eyes, “Whatever you say.” I grit out and was about to push past my sisters when the door flung off its hinges and a beast with emerald eyes locked his gaze with mine.

A knock caused me to jolt from my seat and the book I was attempting to read on the table next to the chair, “Go away,” I yelled trying to conceal the fact the knock on the door frightened me.

The sound of the lock turning, and the door opens causing me to jump out of my chair, to see Tamlin strolling in. He shut the door and made a spectacle of locking the door. His eyes met mine and his eyes held nothing but cold and controlled anger. “Long time no see, Y/N.” He drawled and I tried not to shiver as fear locked up my joints. He slowly approaches me with his hands clasped behind his back, “You’re breaking Feyre’s heart you know. Locking yourself in here.” The sun from the window hit him and in any other situation I would have found his beauty mesmerizing, but his beauty looked sinister.

I crossed my arms and Tamlin takes notice of my tattoo decorating my skin before its tucked away. Feigning indifference, tucking the fear deep down and lifting my chin. “What do you want, Tamlin?” Shifting my weight back and forth.

Tamlin closed the distance, and I took a step back, “You’re coming down and having dinner with us tonight.”

I rolled my eyes, and I could hear the growl in his chest, “No thanks, as you can see, I’m quite busy here.”

Tamlin bared his teeth, “That wasn’t a request,” he took another step toward me.

“I don’t care,” I muttered and made the error of trying to step around him and in a flash, he gripped me and pinned me against the wall his muscled his hand moved from my arm and moved to my hip his free hand clamping down over my mouth. His gaze turned feral and crazed, letting his anger unleash and I could only produce a whimper through his hand.

He brought his face closer to mine and I could see the pure ire in his eyes. “Listen to me carefully. You are going to clean up, put on a pretty dress, come downstairs and apologize to Feyre for causing her stress and pain. Then you are going to eat in silence you will be seen and not heard.” I tried to yank my head, but he has my face in an iron grip, and he gripped my hip in bruising force keeping me pinned to the wall, “Like the good little human girl you are.” He released my face.

I quickly spat in his face, “Fuck-“he clamped his hand back over my mouth and I lashed against him.

Tamlin tsked, “No, no, the only thing I wanted to hear from you at all is ‘Yes Tamlin.’ And an apology to my soon to be wife.” He gripped my hip so tightly I gasped, and a tear slipped down my cheek. Tamlin kissed it away, the gesture going against his words. He met my eyes again his grin anything but comforting, “Blink if you understand, Y/N,” my name almost a snarl against his lips. I slowly blink and more tears fall. He lowers his face to kiss my forehead and I thrash my hands trying to push him away, but I couldn’t move him. He pulled away and released my body giving my cheek a not so tender pat, “Good Girl. Now go clean up there will be a dress on your bed,” he turned and made his way to the exit.

I wrapped my arms around myself, and I noticed Tamlin paused, “Oh and Y/N,” He turned his hand still on the handle, “Make no mistake if you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair. Feyre’s happiness is important to me I will do anything to keep a smile on her face.” With that he left, and I let the emotions of the interaction fully take over and slide down the wall and bury my face in my knees to stifle the uncontrollable sobs. I barely notice how warm and tingling my tattoo is through the tears.

Cassian’s POV

I sat in the lounge of the townhouse with Rhys, there was a throbbing in my chest that caused discomfort. I rubbed my chest, but the pain wouldn’t subside, it felt like my heart was aching. I creased my eyebrows sadness consumed me and I rubbed that spot tighter as I closed my eyes.

“Cass, you alright?” Rhys’ voice pulled me from the wave of emotion overtaking me.

“I just have this weird feeling; my chest feels tight.”

Rhys gave me his full attention, his glass of whiskey forgotten. “Do you need me to get Madja?”

I shook my head, “No, just feels like something is wrong.” Another wave overwhelmed me, I closed my eyes, and I took a deep breath to neutralize myself. When I opened my eyes, my brother had a painful expression on his face. He was gripping his glass tightly his knuckles were white. “What is it?” I asked.

Rhy formed his lips into a tight line, and he clenched his hands into a fist, “Something is wrong over there,” he gritted through his teeth as he rubbed his left arm, causing me straightened I didn’t need him to fill me in. “She is sending utter turmoil down the bond.”

I grimace, “What kind of male torments their partner like that. To cause that much dread.”

Rhys shook his head, his eyes meeting mine the stars winking out, “It’s not Feyre, Cass.” My grip on my own glass tightened, “It’s Y/N’s.” Rhys stood and downed the rest of his drink.

Rhys began to walk out, and I called out, “Where are you going?”

“It’s the beginning of the new month, brother.” Rhys turned and winked at me, and darkness consumed him as he winnowed out of town house.

Reader’s POV

After a bath and getting the tears to finally stop I walked into the bedroom, taking a look at my hip fortunately there was no bruising from Tamlin’s grip. A lilac dress was laid out for me. The gossamer fabric chaffed my skin. The skirts were heavy against my hips, the spot where Tamlin squeezed still tender, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths and my wrist tingled. I looked down and grazed my tattoo calm washing over me, “Thanks Rhys.” I whispered.

I walked over to the door and opened it to find Feyre on the other side biting her nail, a nervous habit she started when we were kids. Her eyes widened as she saw what I assumed is my puffy eyes from crying, and in turn I saw how her eyes looked bruised and I know she has still not been sleeping, “Hi.” She whispered.

I drifted my gaze to my feet, “Hi.” I looked back at her and look at her thin frame and her sunken cheeks and Tamlin’s words flooded my brain.

You’re breaking Feyre’s heart.

Guilt racks through me as I lightly pull her hand from her mouth, “Feyre, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out at you.”

Feyre squeezed my hand, “No, I am sorry. I know that this transition has been hard on you. I should have been more considerate to your feelings.”

I gave her a small smile tears pooling in my eyes again, “Let’s just put it behind us,” I patted her hand with my trembling one.

If you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair.

“Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and you’re trembling like a leaf. Do you want to lie down I can tell Tamlin you’re not-“

“No!” I blurted, causing Feyre to step back stunned. I composed myself, smoothing my skirts willing my hands to stop shaking, “Let’s just go have dinner with our…friends.” Feyre beamed at me referring to Tamlin and Lucien as friends as I tried to keep the bile from creeping up. We made our way to the dining hall. The closer we got the more nervous I became even the comfort of the tattoo felt vacant. I was trying to keep my hands from shaking by keeping them clasped.

The doors opened as we approached and Lucien and Tamlin were standing in their seats, snarling at something and as we got deeper into the dining hall to find Rhysand his hand tucked into his pockets. Feyre stilled and I fought every instinct to run and hug him. “Fuck you, Rhysand, we are to have a nice dinner. You can’t just take them.”

“Per our agreement it doesn’t matter when I come pick them up in the month.” Rhys spoke with cool indifference. “But I am a reasonable male,” He turned to us, “Ladies, I’ll give you the choice you can enjoy the meal with the High Lord and his loyal pet,” Lucien scowled, “Or we can go right now.”

Feyre moved to her seat by Tamlin Rhys tracking her entire movement, “I would like to have a meal before being whisked away.”

Rhys pulled his gaze away from Feyre and met mine. For a moment, I looked at Tamlin and could see his lips move the message clear Sit down. I met his gaze to his and hoped he understood what I was trying to convey with my eyes as I began to move to the seat next to my sister.

Don’t leave, please don’t leave. Don’t go.

Rhysand meandered to a seat on the opposite end of the table as Tamlin growled the claws peeking from his knuckles, “They want to have dinner, you can come back when their done.”

Rhys pulled the chair and plopped in it kicking his feet up as if he owned the place. “Where’s your hospitality, High Lord? I think it’s best I stay and join you. I’m sure Feyre and Y/N wouldn’t mind.”

Feyre scowled and I just lowered my gaze, finding the skirts of my dress very interesting as I took a seat. “Fine.” Tamlin grumbled and food appeared on each plate filled with lavish meats and cheeses.

I looked at the table and Tamlin’s fierce gaze met mine, “Y/N, so wonderful for you to finally join us tonight, care to say anything to Feyre.”

“Tamlin, leave her be she already apologized to me.” Feyre scolded her hand gripping my thigh with a gentle squeeze.

Tamlin bristled and I shifted in my seat under his scrutinizing gaze, “Well I’m glad she apologized. Let’s try to have a meal together with everyone present moving forward.” I looked to Lucien who avoided eye contact with me...Coward.

Feyre gave a small smile, “Sounds great.”

I moved my food around with my fork, not having an appetite. I felt a prickle in the back of my mind. You need to eat. I tried to reign in the shock of Rhys’ voice in my head.  You BOTH do.

I looked at him, to see he was eating the food, but his eyes were locked on me and Feyre, I looked to my sister, and noticed she was doing the same thing. Looking at the High Lord of the Spring and his emissary, the two were engaged in their own conversation eating paying us no mind. I took a few bites of my food and out of the corner of my eye I saw Feyre following suit.

One the meal was finished Rhys stood and Feyre rising from hers, Tamlin reached to grab her hand and she casually moved her hand. I made a note to ask her about it when we’re alone. Feyre gave him a small weak smile, “We’ll see you in a week.”

A hand lightly gripped my shoulder, I looked up and met Rhys’ gaze, “Ready to go?”  I nodded and rose from my seat. His hand slid down my arm and gripped my hand. “Feyre Darling,” Her gaze met his as he held out hiss free hand for her to take. She approached him with less fury than the first time we went to the Night Court. When she places her hand in his we are consumed by the darkness, and we are back in Rhys’ home.  Feyre looked at me, “I’m going to go to bed. You are coming?”

Rhys gave Feyre a comforting grin, “She will be there in a moment. I need to talk to her real quick.” Feyre to my surprise give him a silent nod and her lips curve slightly upward and I swore that Rhys stopped breathing for a moment. “Good night, High Lord.” She said and turned and headed back to our shared room.

Rhys turned to me, and I averted my gaze to my hands that were interlaced.  “Y/N, look at me,” I refused and kept my gaze on my hands, look at me, please his voice echoed in your mind. I sighed and met his gaze, “What happened? I felt an unnerving turmoil earlier today through,” he grabbed my arm with the tattoo. “It was like you were screaming down the bond.”

I slipped my arm from his grasp, and he let me, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I murmured wrapping my arms around myself, “I doubt you would believe me anyway.”

Rhys scowled, “You don’t have to tell me what happened. You don’t have to talk to me. But don’t ever say that I wouldn’t believe you. The pain I felt today was real your pain was real.” Rhys’ face softened, “Just don’t bury this down and forget about it, it will eat you alive, okay?”

 I gave him a nod and he turned to leave probably to head to his own room, “He pinned me against a wall,” I blurted, and it caused him to still, he turned, and I could feel the tears building up as I placed my trembling fingers over my mouth, “He clamped my mouth so tight I thought he would break my jaw and he gripped my hip to keep me pinned to the wall.” I sobbed and Rhys in three strides made his way back and without saying anything else wrapped me in his arms and I let the sobs take over and buried my face in his shirt. A comforting hand placed on back of my head and he rubs my back in almost a brotherly way. “I tried to push him away and I couldn’t,” whether he could understand the words and tears just wouldn’t stop. “He told me I needed to remain silent except to apologize to Feyre for locking myself in my room. He said that he going to tie me to a chair and force me there.”

Rhys arms were the only thing keeping me upright, “It’s okay.” He whispered pressed his cheek atop of my head, as my sobs racked out of my body. “What can I do? Tell me what I can do to help you.”

There was a calm emotion that slowed down my sobs slowed, I take a deep breath, “Can you help me not feel as weak and powerless as I felt today? I never want to feel that way again.”

“Yes, you will never have to feel that way again.” He pushed away and looked at me, wiping tears from my cheeks. “I can train you.” I nodded in agreement as exhaustion began to take over my body. “It’s been a long day,” I gave him another nod, “Want to go to your room?” He gripped one of my hands, “I can take you there.”

I shook my head and his brows furrowed, “Can I go to the library?” He smiled and gave the top of my hand he held a kiss.

“Of course, you can, let me take you.” I gave him a small smile and sniffled as he led me to the library. The small journey was quiet, but the door opened, and the books came into view. “Tomorrow, we can start your reading lessons I’m hoping your sister will want to partake as well.” I turned to him, and he held hope in his eyes that Feyre would be willing. “We can start training whenever you want, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

He released my hand and began to walk away. I grabbed his hand again and he looked back at me, “I don’t know what I can say. What I can do to repay for your kindness.” And I wrapped my arms around his neck, “Thank you, Rhysand.”

He returned the embrace, “You don’t need to thank me.” He pulled away and cupped my cheek, “Have a good night, Y/N.” He places a chaste kiss to my forehead and heads deeper into the hall. I walked into the library and the fireplace lit and I welcomed the warmth as I sat on the large chair. Sinking into the cushion I laid my head back and in the comfort of the library my eyes shut, and sleep overtook me.

Cassian’s POV

She looked beautiful and peaceful on the library chair fast asleep. Rhys had casually let me know she would be there and before I went to bed after a long day in Windhaven, I stopped by to see if she might have needed anything and found her sound asleep. Rhys didn’t tell me what happened in Tamlin’s court, but he had mentioned that she was interested in training. The red around her nose and the smell of dried tears told me she had been crying and my mind only went to the worst-case scenario of what happened.

Leaning off the door I tucked my wings to not have them drag across the floor I approached, Y/N’s sleeping form, the way her neck was angled she would wake up in immense pain. I lightly scooped her in my arms trying my best not to wake her, she only stirred to move her head and leaned it against my chest and the sweet smell of Jasmine and lilacs flooded my nose. She smelled as beautiful as she was. I walked over to the couch that was placed right in between two bookshelves against the wall and lay her down making sure her head pressed against the pillow. The house placed a blanket in my arms and in no hesitation, I placed the blanket on her. She snuggled against the softness of the blanket and let out a content sigh.

I smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Sleep well, Sweetheart.” And with that I left the library and went to my room.

Reader’s POV

The next morning, I woke up and found myself on the couch in the library, and there was a blanket over me. I remember falling asleep on the chair, but don’t remember moving. The scent of leather and Sandalwood lingered in the room and was a comforting embrace. Feyre opened the door her eyes frantic, “There you are! I was so worried!” She donned a peach dress that fitted her figure with sheer sleeves that had rhinestones on it. Her hair was pinned back to the side, and she looked beautiful even though the dress looked like it was wearing her.

I stretched and smiled at her, “Sorry, Fey, I fell asleep in here. I like it in here.”  I sat up and put the blanket to the side, “I’m hungry.”

Feyre nodded, “Well go change and we will go get breakfast.” I nodded and went to the bedroom to change into a purple top with sheer puffy sleeves that showed a little more cleavage with matching pants and put my hair in a simple braid and made my way to breakfast.

At breakfast Rhys broke the news to my sister that we would be learning to read, write and shield against Daemati fae, which he explained to me is how he was able to speak to me in my mind. That went as well as I anticipated but with some coercing, she joined me in the office to get our first lesson. “I don’t understand why you care about our education.” Feyre grumbled.

“Oh, are you saying having this ability wouldn’t have been useful under the mountain?” I stilled at his question and Feyre went pale and silent. “We don’t know what the future holds, its in my best interest to have you two, well versed and ready for anything.” 

He explained to us how to put up mental shields that we worked on, and we spent an hour writing the ridiculous phrases that made Feyre roll her eyes and mutter, “Insufferable,” causing me to chuckle. After an hour of Rhys scolding us for keeping our shields up and checking our work, he released us for the day. Feyre and I went back to the room and fell into a comfortable silence and that evening I went back to the library and grabbed a book to practice my reading.

The rest of the week was spent that way shielding, reading and writing and towards the end, Feyre was eating more and smiling more to Rhysand which I swore the High Lord soaked in her smiles like sun rays. When we returned to the Spring Court, we both spent some time together reading and despite my utter disgust I would join for meals to appease Tamlin and keep his temper at bay.

Months went by and fell into the same rhythm. Rhys threw in a few fighting lessons, but we started with balance and stretching. He said he would only show me the basics but when his General came home that I would start training with him for more intricate training. I wanted to ask Rhys what Cassian’s role was in his court or just even to learn more about him, but I refrained, I didn’t want to pry, and he never wanted to divulge in the members of his court.

I could tell after Rhysand dropped us off that both Feyre and I were feeling better and stronger as Feyre was begging Tamlin to go out and hunt and help the people in town and met with stonewall refusal. So, she would dive into reading with me, but her face was fuller, and light shone back into her eyes, the color in her hair was vibrant again. Turns out that verbal sparring with Rhys was doing something for her.

Dinner that night after Tamlin told Feyre he didn’t want her hunting, Tamlin was utterly sweet, to her and to me. I welcomed the change even if Ianthe had graced us with her presence and her saccharine grin making my skin crawl. It felt as though things were finally falling into place. I drank the wine that Ianthe had poured for me and when I went to my room, sleep overpowered me and I moved to my bed my head landing on the pillow as I slipped into unconsciousness not even realizing that I had left my door wide open.

I awoke with a start as the warm breeze caressed my bare skin, I sat upright my surroundings spinning but trees surrounded me, I was in the forest. Someone had put a sheer nightgown on me my hands were bound behind my back and female laughter caused my blood to chill. I turned my head to find Ianthe there. “Ianthe, help me please.”

She approached me and gone was any warmth in her features and cold viper took her place as she crouched to meet my eyes, “I’m under Tamlin’s orders. To take you far away from the manor”

I gritted my teeth, “Bullshit, he wouldn’t hurt my sister that way!” I sent panic down the bond in hopes that Rhys would be able to answer my call.

Ianthe stroked a finger down my cheeks moving to my neck and down to my clavicle, “Unless we tell her you ran away.”

Fear ran down my spine I masked it with indifference, “You think she would believe that I would abandon her like that.”

Ianthe traced her finger right above the swell of my breast and I jerked away from her, “Well we could also say that you were influenced by the Naga lured out by a lesser fae and with your fragile human body you couldn’t resist.” I bit my lip, and she smirked knowing she would believe that as she held a dagger and sliced quickly above my clavicle, and I hissed, refusing to scream. Though she sliced off one of the straps to my night gown. She placed a kiss to my cheek before she murmured, “I’d run if I were you. Won’t be long before the monsters that live in these woods smell your blood and come looking for you.” And with that she vanished.

I gritted through my teeth as I rose to my knees, ignoring the pain of twigs and rocks pressing into my knees as I rose to my bare feet and began to run. I wasn’t sure which way I was running and there was minimal moon light to help but I just kept running and sending my fear down the bond. Even opening my mind:

Rhys, help. Please help me!

There was no response, but I kept pushing, kept sending waves of fear down our tattoo and shouting my thoughts in hopes he would hear. It felt like hours I was in there before I tripped over a stump I didn’t see and fell hard on my back. My vision blurred as my head collided with something hard, but the silence was palpable in the forest. My breathing was labored, and I could feel the warmth trickle of blood running down my face. I knew my feet were cut up, but I still rose to my knees and willed myself to try and stand. Dizziness dropped me back to my knees and a sob raked out of me. “Rhysand, please.” I whispered.

A low chuckle echoed behind me, and I began to tremble. “What a delicious treat we have brother, a human girl” The sound of slithering made me want to vomit but I forced the bile down and kept my head down. The slithering halted and the images of the Naga Feyre had painted flooded my memory the serpent-like creatures with talons and vile creatures.

Another low sinister voice followed, “What a pretty little thing and tied up just like a present.”  A sharp finger moved my hair away to look at my bleeding wound. I looked up and met yellow eyes and a pink serpent tongue sticking out. The hand that moved my hair gripped the back of my neck and I whimpered as the Naga licked the trail of blood from my forehead. The free hand groping my exposed breast, the beast hummed in approval, “She is delicious.”  The Naga gripped my hair and I yelped in pain as he approached, bringing his mouth closer to mine but keeping my head in place so I couldn’t move.

Rhys, I think I’m going to die. If I do, it was an honor being your friend.

I could have sobbed when Rhys’ voice came into my head.

No one will be dying tonight.

There was a slash of metal and the howl of the Naga who was gripping me as he was yanked away a flash of blue propelling it back. The sound of wings booming above and a thud on the ground. I couldn’t see my savior’s face only that blue gems blazed in the night as he approached the creature that put its hands on me with a blade in his hand.

The creature’s brother tried to slither its tail around my waist only to be met with steel cutting in clean off. A blast of red power forced the beast back against the tree. The Naga was about to approach again ready for a fight when a dagger flew and landed right in between its eyes, and it slumped back against the trees. The clouds parted and moonlight was able to help me see but a hand grabbed my shoulder and a jerked out of the grip turning slightly to meet familiar hazel eyes. His eyes held fear and he held his hands out palms open, “Y/N, do you remember me?” He whispered.

I nodded, “Cassian,” I whispered my voice hoarse and dry.

Cassian gave me a warm smile, “Good, Can I untie you?” I nodded again and he took another dagger and made his way behind me to cut my ties as the other winged male approached. My hands were free, and Cass took my hands in his and began to massage my wrists to bring the circulation back into my hands. “Is this, okay?” he asked, ignoring his friend who had just approached. I nodded again words not forming.

The other male knelt and gave me a small smile, his eyes a similar hazel to Cassian’s but just like Rhys and Cassian he was utterly beautiful, “I have heard a lot about you, Archeron.” His voice was pure honey, “I’m Azriel.”

I give him a small wave. Cassian released my hand and slid off his jacket sliding it over my shoulders to cover me. I slide my arms into the sleeves. “We have to get going before more come.” Cassian whispered to me, “Will you let me carry you?”

I nod but force myself to say, “Don’t bring me back to the Spring Court.” I whisper as my eyes met his and pain flashes in those eyes. “Please.”

“You are not going back there, Sweetheart. We’re taking you home.” Cassian scoops me up and holds me close to his chest, where the scent of sandalwood and leather fills my nose and my eyes widened, was he there that day in the library? Did he move me over to the couch? My thoughts whirled but the dizziness caused me to lay my head on his chest. “You alright?” He murmured the words thrumming from his chest causing warmth to spread through my body.

“I hit my head, and a little dizzy but I’ll be alright.” Azriel rose nodding to his friend and gripped Cassian’s arm as darkness consumed us until we emerged into a house I had never seen before.

Rhys was in the hall his eyes frantic, “Mother above, Is she alright? Where's Feyre?”

Tears welled up at my conversation with Ianthe bubbled to the surface of never seeing Feyre again, “I'm alright” I croaked, “They’re going to make her think I’m dead.” I whisper and tear slips from my face. Cassian’s grip tightens on me his thumb rubbing circles on my back, and I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face letting his scent soothe me.

"Who is?" Cassian asked.

"Tamlin and Ianthe." I whimper as pain erupts from my head. I pressed on, "They are going to tell her I abandoned her."

Rhys sounded as though he was clenching his teeth, “Cassian go take her to one of the rooms upstairs and have Madja come take a look at her.” I could hear his footsteps and a hand was on my arm giving it a comforting squeeze, “I’ll check on her in the morning.”

You didn't abandon her and when she sees you again she will know that Rhys' words in my mind brought me comfort as I heard his steps walk away with what I assume was Azriel's not far behind.

With that Cassian took me up the stairs and into the room I took a look around there were two twin sized beds and he laid me down on the one farthest from the window, He looked at the wound on my head, "I'm going to go get our healer, I'll be right back." He got up and I on instinct grabbed for his hand, hissing at my fast movement.

"Stay. Please don't leave me." I whispered.

He bit his lip and he nodded he looked off into the distance for a long moment and then he grabbed the chair from the small desk and brought it by my bedside. "Rhys, is calling for our healer." He sat letting his wings dip slightly as he grips my hand again and rubs the top of my hand. The soothing motion lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 4

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @Tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieoo

[hawkinasock]

haiii pls spill abt ur chimera yq ideas... i have my own (https://www.tumblr.com/waterfrontcomplex/758520749229277184/dunmeshi-chapter-37ep-17-spoilers-look?source=share)

i also drew my own idea of him (swallow + abundant deer)

Yes ofc!! I'm so happy that someone else has had this idea too, it has so much potential. I want to see all the chimera Yanqings.

Mine looks like this. I actually didn't have a design drawn out for him initially, so I had to whip something up quickly. That's why it took me so long to answer </3

Originally, he had a more swallow-based design.

I still really like it, but I changed the lore a lot, so I made the new one, the current au, which goes something like this:

(CW for blatant body horror, descriptions of digestion, as well as brief details regarding real world animal death)

Here's my idea. Like most aeons, Lan The Hunt has emanators that carry out their will. One of these emanator's is currently unnamed and without a solid design yet. It has an animalistic appearance in my head. Imagine Feixiao's inner beast, or the Mourning Aix from WuWa. That'll give you the best reference.

It travels the cosmos, tracking down and eliminating the Abundance. it does this with the use of extremely powerful olfactory cells. Even with galaxies separating them, the emanator can detect abominations through smell alone, and when it finds one, it will consume it to ensure it cannot possibly regenerate.

Suffice to say, it's very good at its job, and Yanqing, unfortunately, is not an exception to their heightened senses. Surprisingly to no one, Abundance Yanqing coexists with this au, and he is immediately recognized as an abomination when the emanator is in proximity of the Luofu. Yanqing is unaware of his status as an spawn of Yaoshi, so when the devourer of monsters (working title) visits the Luofu, he never would have expected it to turn its eyes onto him.

To say the Luofu is thrown into chaos when one of Lan's emanator's eats a Liuetenant of The Hunt is an understatement. The emanator insists no mistake has been made and it is justified through Lan's divine will. It actually shifts the blame onto Jing Yuan for assigning an abomination as his Lieutenant in the first place, citing incompetence on his part. Kind of a shitty thing to do after eating the man's son but okay...

Not long after, the emanator starts to... change. It begins experiencing sudden and visible signs of mara: bouts of aggression, delirium, and eventually flora and fungus sprouting from its flesh. It's incorrectly concluded that Yanqing's death was a result of early unset mara in the emanator, and Jing Yuan decides the emanator has to be killed via decapitation, such is their duty as followers of The Hunt.

You can probably guess where this is going.

So, you know how bones are capable of fusing together or into other objects during the healing process? Like that deer that was shot by an arrow and the ribcage actually fused itself with the arrow? That's essentially how chimera Yanqing is born.

As an abomination, Yanqing is capable of postmortem regeneration, and as an abomination that is particularly favored by Yaoshi (in my delusional mind) his regeneration capabilities far exceed that of the average denizen, and one this emanator's digestive system was not capable of overriding.

Much like how that deer bone fused with the arrow, Yanqing's body begins the process of fusing back together after partial consumption, and during that process, he inadvertently fuses with the emanator's body, which triggered those mara symptoms. Additionally, because there had also been remains of other denizens in the emanator's stomach, they were unintentionally included in the revitalization process. This, in the end, gave the chimera's body the claws of a Borisin, the wings of a Wingweaver, and the head of a human (his body structure is also the same as the Houyhnhnm, but that's obviously a coincidence on my part lol).

The flowers and mushrooms don't really serve any other purpose besides looking pretty and emphasizing his connection to the abundance - his power is so palpable that life is literally sprouting through his skin. I just think it's kinda neat.

Anyways, in terms of psychological aftereffects, Yanqing himself is still there. However, his sense of self is muddied and most of his memories suppressed. Because he's at the head, he's in control of his own movements and actions. Usually, he's completely docile, but in the face of people currently trying to kill him, he becomes confused and scared, and fights back in self-defense. He's also experiencing prolonged dysmorphia from his new form, which causes him greater confusion and even pain.

For Jing Yuan? I think everyone would agree he wouldn't want to kill Yanqing. He believes there's still a way to reverse Yanqing's affliction, even if the Ten Lords insist otherwise.

Currently I don't have an detailed outline of what happens next. My current ideas are similar to yours actually, where the disciples take an interest in Yanqing for whatever reason, be it desperation to stop the Luofu from killing him and seeing him as blessed by Yaoshi, what have you. It could honestly go a similar route as Dvalin's manipulation by the hands of the Abyss. If I were to give this au a happy ending, I could incorporate the Viscorpus' ability to shapeshift and have Yanqing hone that ability, allowing him to regain his human form.

That's all I have for what was meant to be a short, detailed summary </3 All these asks always end with me yapping, forgive me. I've had this au cooking in my head for so long now, and I'm glad I have an excuse to spurge about it now.

(p.s. pls make more of your chimera au, I would eat it up)

[justmeinadaze]

Inescapable Part 3 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Two things! No one wrangled me so I did add said cliffhanger AND the results of a pervious poll told me you wanted a mix of good and toxic steddie so you will be getting some toxic behaviors in this one.

ENJOY!

Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie (Daddy Steve and Sir Eddie) & Young (Early 20s) Fem Sub college student Y/N, SMUT, LOTS of dirty talk, public smut (in the visitation room), FLUFF, they love her and she loves them.

ANGST, ANGST, ANGST! *dances with a banner that reads angst*

Per previous chapter boys find out reader is pregnant, they do not react well (some might say toxically), insinuate Y/N is a promiscuous and get jealous, Y/N fires back verbally to hurt them, we do sit in on their appeal hearing and people within Hawkins speak on their behalf and against them.

Y/N does get sick while visiting and faints (brief). Talks about missing them and wishing they were with her. CLIFFHANGER ENDING! Oh there will be so much angst in Part 4. I know it. *rubs hands together evilly*.

Word Count: 5930

Previous Parts Here/ Donate :)

Nov 3, 1997

“You look so much better…lighter…happier.”, you softly smile their way. 

As soon as Eddie and Steve entered the room, you noticed the difference in their demeanors immediately. Oddly enough, they seemed gentler as well especially when their palms reached out to grab each one of your hands. 

“It may have been only one night but it’s one we’re going to hang on to.”, the metalhead whispers as his thumb caresses your skin. 

“I’m so sorry for hurting you. I had no idea about the picture and—”

“Hey, hey. It’s ok, honey. We’re sorry for being so jealous. Like Eddie said, it’s hard being in here and imagining the worst, you know? Especially when we didn’t hear from you.”

“I did quit my job at the bar so I’m going to look for something on campus. That will help with that exhaustion.”

“Did, um, did we…we didn’t hurt you or anything right?”, Steve asks cautiously as his eyes take you in.

Your smile widens as your palm reaches for his cheek to guide his lips to yours. It was a tender kiss that held so much promise and hope that he desperately craved. You were the light at the end of this long tunnel for them and when his beautiful irises meet yours, he knew you felt it to. 

“No, you didn’t hurt me, Daddy. And neither did you, Sir.”, you beam as you shift your posture to face him. 

As soon as your head turns, his hands capture your face and his mouth crashes to yours. When he pulls away, you both pant as his forehead rests against your own. 

“We hated leaving you that morning.”, he murmured. “We genuinely considered leaving with you because the idea of leaving you alone out there… I’ve never felt this way about anyone, sweetheart.”

“Me neither.”, Steve added as he tilts down to rest his head on your shoulder. 

“I’ve never done anything like that or this.”, you exhale heavily. “I’ve never done the…dominate/submissive thing.”

Eddie’s thumb runs along your bottom lip and they pucker to kiss the pad.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Fuck, princess, you drive us crazy.”, he teases as he kisses you again and leans back.

############

January 5th, 1998

“Are you two alright? You sound lethargic.”

“Oooo listen to our little lawyer, Stevie, breakin’ out the big words.”, Eddie chuckles as he sighs. “Naw, baby. We’re just a bit nervous. We have our appeal coming up and this one they’re doing together so…a lot of chaos at once.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must be. I know some of your friends try to come down and say something in your defense.”, you pause as you exhale, debating if you should say what’s on your mind. “Since I’m doing my project on you and have worked with you two…I could come…on your behalf—”

“NO!”, Steve booms making you and some of the convicts around him jump. His panicked eyes briefly meet his friend’s whose widen as if to say to be calm. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to…snap. It’s just…you don’t want to be there. It’s really boring and just some standard stuff.”

“Ok. It’s not a big deal. I just wanted to help.”

“I know, sweetheart. We know. Trying to be our good girl right?”

“Always.”

“Pfft, liar.”, Eddie teases making you giggle. “What about you, Y/N? You sound kind of lethargic to.”

“I’m ok. I miss you guys so much especially since I haven’t been feeling well. I just want you to hold me.”

“Oh, baby girl. I know. Listen, why don’t you get some sleep, dream of us, and we’ll see you this weekend, yeah?”, Steve coos giving you a warm fuzzy feeling as you nuzzle into your pillow. 

***

January 10th, 1998,

“You should have stayed home and in bed.”, Eddie scolds as he pets your head. “Fuck, Steve, she’s really clammy.”

“I’m fine, you dorks. It’s just stress with everything going on and with the new semester starting—”

“If it’s stress, maybe, you should take a break this semester.”

“I can’t do that, Steve.”

“Why?”

At his question, your nose scrunches in disgust as you turn away from him but he promptly grabs your cheeks forcing you to face them. You were nowhere near in the mood for this. You hadn’t been able to keep anything down the past couple of days but you wanted to see them. You hoped this visit would be simple but nothing ever was with these two. 

“Answer me.”

“Because.”, you sass making them huff.

“I know you’re not feeling well but that doesn’t give you the right to be fucking a brat. Now answer our question or this visit is over.”, the metalhead growls from behind you. 

“This I guess it’s fucking over.”, you spat as you shakily got up and began to walk out of the semi-private visitation room you three had been sitting in before pausing as the tears fell. After rising to their feet, Steve gently brushed your hair away from your face. “You said you wouldn’t leave with me…because I deserved to be…a lawyer.”, you whispered. “The faster I finish…maybe then…”

“Sweetheart—“, Eddie had begun to murmur softly before being cut off by your eyes slowly fluttering. “Y/N. Hey. Look at me, baby!”

The world around you went black as you vaguely heard them shouting in the distance for help.

***

“There she is. Up you get, sweetie.”, a nurse comforted as she slowly pulled you into a sitting position. “Are you alright? Got a bit swept off your feet there.”

“What happened?”

“Have you been to doctor recently?”

“Um, no. I haven’t been kind of sick but I thought it might be stress.”, you groaned as you took a sip of the juice she gave you in a cup. “Is it something more?”

“Um, we only have some of the basics here in the hospital ward but from all the tests we did, you don’t have the flu or anything. Your blood sugar was a bit low which I assume you probably haven’t been eating much?” She purses her lips when you nod. “The only thing we didn’t test for is…could there be a chance that you’re pregnant?”

You blink at her as if she just spoke a foreign language. 

“No. There’s no way. I mean…no. No?”

“Hm. Alright, well, I would still go to primary just to make sure you’re alright.”

“O-O-Okay, thank you, ma’am.”

Numbly, you gather your things and head to the door of the little room they had taken you to within the hospital section of the prison. As soon as your shoes hit the waiting area, Eddie and Steve scurry to their feet to cup your face in their hands. 

“Are you alright? What did she say? You scared us half to death.”

“I’m…I’m fine. S-She said it was just stress and that I need a break.”, you lied.

“Fuck, honey. See? We aren’t just saying that stuff to pester you. You need to be healthy. OOF!”, Steve grunted when you tackled your arms around his waist and began to sob. 

Eddie circled his arms around you both and gently kissed the back of your head. 

“Baby”, he whispers closer to your ear. “Everything’s ok. Don’t push yourself because of us. We told you that night… we need to do this right.”

“Munson. Harrington. Time to go back.”, a guard commanded forcefully causing them both to hold you tighter. “Come on, boys.”

“Can we have one more goddamn minute!?”, Steve shouted in a tone you had never heard from him before. 

“You have thirty fucking seconds.”

At the man’s low growl, you lightly push away from them and his thumbs hastily wipe away your tears. 

“Eddie’s right. Everything’s going to be ok.”

As the guard grabs Steve’s bicep, he leans down to give you a quick kiss before the metalhead does the same, their eyes remaining locked on you as they are yanked out the door. 

#########################

February 7th, 1998

“Hello.”, you whimper as you answer the phone from your spot on your bedroom floor. If you weren’t there nowadays, you were curled up in bed either sobbing or trying to calm your nauseas tummy.

“Y/N.”

Eddie’s stern, hard tone had your lip tremble as you tried to control the urge to cry with them on the line.

“Is Steve here to?” The man himself responded with a gruff hm and you pictured them both leaning against the wall by the phones with their angry eyes glaring out the window nearby. “Did…did you get my letter?”

“Yeah, we got your letter.”

“What, um, what do you…think?”

“I think you should get rid of that innocent little girl routine for starters.”, the metalhead scolded, startling you slightly. “The three of us know you’re not some sweet church girl. Not with you working at that bar and then your guy tutor—”

“Add in fucking Derek.”, Steve growled. 

“What the fuck are you two implying?”

“You also fucked someone else a week before we did.”

“Come on, Edward. Don’t fucking sugar coat it. Like you said, I’m not an innocent little girl. Say what’s on your fucking mind.”

“How do we know that baby is ours?”

Both men listened to you chuckle before your heavy breaths filled the receiver as you started to cry again. Even though they knew they were being assholes, the sound was killing them. 

“So much for that apology huh?”, you seethed as you wiped your eyes with your sleeve. “About how you trusted me and you didn’t mean to get jealous, you fucking dicks. I never even flirted with anyone at my job and found a different tutor because I knew he made you uncomfortable. I haven’t fucking spoken to Derek in over a year and I sacrificed my relationship with him to be with you two!”

“And the lucky candidate you put on display for us?”

“Well, Steven, I called him after my doctor’s appointment and guess what? We used a condom so congratulations, Eddie.”

“You didn’t say anything that night.”

“Oh, I see. This is all my fault?”

“You should have told us you weren’t on birth control. It’s not like we can bring condoms from fucking prison.”

“But you can stop to buy those fucking masks and wherever you got that fucking camera!!”, you screamed, taking a breath as you tried to calm down. “I was just happy that you two were there. I couldn’t believe I was finally getting to be with you and hold you. I didn’t think…”

“No…you didn’t.”

“But neither did we.”, Eddie grumbled.

“What happens now?”

“What do you expect us to do, Y/N? We can’t be fathers from fucking prison.”

“Your father was.”, you sass, feeling the sudden shift of energy through the phone after your comment. 

“No, little girl, he wasn’t. Time to go back and go over your fucking research on us. I was left with my uncle because my dad chose to boost a car over raising me.”

“Maybe I DO need to go through my project again because after everything you both told me and how you were I believed you were innocent. Now…it’s like I’m talking to completely different men.”

“Come on, honey. Don’t sugar coat it. Say what’s on your fucking mind.”, Steve mocked making you fume.

“Maybe you both did murder those people!”

You regretted it as soon as the words left your mouth but you were in so much pain with everything they were saying that you wanted to hurt them to and you knew finally having someone believe them meant the world. 

“HEY! KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF OVER THERE!”, Steve bellowed to someone further away.

“Or what, Harrington?!”

The sound of the phone falling echoed loudly as you listened to him respond angerly before shouting and cheering from the other inmates could be heard. 

The other phone hit the ground with a crack and the crowd suddenly boomed with chants of their names and another inmate’s. The last thing you heard were guards screaming as they tried to break up what you assumed was a fight as the line was abruptly cut off. 

***

February 10th, 1998

You knew shouldn’t be here in the courtroom but you had been numb for the last couple of days. They told you that you wouldn’t want to go to their appeal but you needed to. You needed to hear what people around them had to say when it came to them from the people that knew them especially with them in the room.

A part of you silently hoped that this particular appeal would go well so maybe you’d have a chance of a happy life together while another part of you also wanted to disobey. 

They didn’t want you there but they had just cut your heart into pieces so you wanted to do anything to make them angry. 

Sitting in the back with your recorder they bought you for Christmas, you kept your hood up to cover your face but it wasn’t enough. As soon as the guard brought both men in they spotted you immediately as their bruised faces ran through every emotion before landing on stoic. 

Steve’s eye was swollen shut from where he must have gotten punched repeatedly but Eddie most likely intervened because while having a few scratches as well, he had more damage on his knuckles than anywhere else. 

As the appeal began, it was all the normal stuff you had learned about in school with their own lawyer advising the judge of their clean record since being incarcerated and all the good they had been trying to do while behind bars. 

Wayne spoke first on their behalf like he always did mentioning that his nephew was a “good boy” who “wasn’t capable of a crime as horrendous as this.” He hadn’t known Steve before the murders but insisted that he has been nothing but kind and “has a good heart.”

Dustin Henderson had appeared at appeals whenever he could talking about how both men were like fathers to him and all the good they had done while in school together. 

A surprise appearance startled even Steve when Nancy Wheeler, now Byers, was called to speak her peace. 

“Steve Harrington and I dated while we were in high school together for about 2 years. While starting out as the typical popular guy, I watched him grow into the strong man he became. He took care of everyone especially the younger kids like my brother and because of him I believe that’s why they are all amazing adults to this day. Steve knew Barb…Barbara… was my best friend and was always kind when it came to her and even her family after her disappearance.

My husband and I proved that Hawkins Lab was responsible for her death but they and the court has chosen to ignore it.”, she growled making Steve smirk slightly at her confidence. “He didn’t kill her and they both did NOT hurt the other victims in this case.”

As she turned to leave the podium, Nancy locked eyes with her ex and he nodded his head her way as if to say thank you before she gave him a small nod in return.

Maxine Mayfield Sinclair was carefully guided to the area next with her husband keeping a guiding hand on her lower back as she limped her way forward. While doing your research, her side made the least sense to you from a logic standpoint. She insisted to this day neither boy hurt her and like Dustin spoke of Steve like family. But when she spoke about how she was injured that day something felt off. 

She always maintained the fact that Jason Carver was the one who hurt her which Lucas Sinclair corroborated with his own account and injuries but if that were the case then why was she hurt in the same manner as the other victims? That would imply that Jason was the murderer and their lawyer did try and create reasonable doubt for the jury by insinuating the same but his family squashed that notion very quickly and it didn’t help that while she insisted Eddie was the one who saved her, he stated he couldn’t remember fighting him off just waking up in the hospital. 

Hawkins had an odd history and your family like so many others believed the town was cursed. Many things stood out as odd especially after doing research into Hawkins Lab yourself. You thought about asking them for more details while pointing out some of things that didn’t make sense but you never wanted to make them uncomfortable. Both boys told you about their nightmares in their letters and you saw the fear of things they had experienced behind the tough front they tried to put up for you.

As Max spoke, their eyes remained downcast and you knew why. Steve told you that he blamed himself for her being hurt saying he “didn’t do enough”. Eddie didn’t know her well but he knew Lucas and hated seeing the boy’s pain every time his wife winced or struggled at old but still sore wounds. Her statement remained the same and she insisted both men should be free before thanking the judge and carefully wobbling on her cane back to their seats. 

The next person that stepped up to the podium was someone you and everyone who owned a tv knew. Chrissy Cunningham’s parents especially her mother constantly took control of the limelight when it came to her daughter’s death. While going over each victim’s file, you noticed Chrissy went to therapy constantly before she died and some of the notes you were able to get a hold of insinuated that her mom was the cause. Even in front of a camera, she beamed talking about the “disgusting human being that is Edward Munson.”

But in front of a judge, she played the part appropriately.

“You took away my daughter’s future, Mr. Munson. She wanted to do so many things but you didn’t care. We couldn’t even have an open casket for her after what you did!”, she sobbed. 

Eddie blinked back tears as Steve placed his palm on his friend’s knee trying to comfort him.

Jason’s parents were told to leave halfway through as they screamed at both boys for sullying their son’s name and memory. 

The final person that entered the court room had everyone confused especially their lawyer but your blood boiled as your ex sauntered to the podium.

“Hello there. My name is Derek and I am a film student at Hawkins University.” You could feel their anger radiate from their seats across the room but that was nothing compared to how furious you were. “I’m doing a project of my own on Edward Munson, Steven Harrington, and the murders of 86. I’m here today because amongst all the research I’ve done so far, I have found nothing that shows these men are innocent let alone empathetic for what they have done. The one time I spoke with them they attacked me and even went as far as seducing my girlfriend away from me.

I’ve now spent the bulk of my time speaking with the victim’s families and finding answers on my own. I feel like it is my duty to speak to this court today on behalf of those families and keep these two murderers where they belong. Thank you for your time.”

Your ex’s eyes meet yours briefly before taking a seat on the opposite side as the judge starts to speak. 

“Edward Munson, do you have anything to say at this time?”

The shackles around his wrists and ankles clank as the man rises to his feet. 

“I, um, just want to apologize for the pain the families are going through. I think about them every day especially Chrissy. She was a good person who deserved the world and if I could trade places with her I would. I shouldn’t have run and hid. I regret not doing more but more than anything I regret leaving her there… ”, Eddie’s voice cracks before regaining his composure. “I’ve accomplished so much behind bars and I want to use what I’ve learned to grow and rebuild my life. Thank you, sir.”

As he takes a seat, the judge addresses Steve whose hands nervously shake as he speaks. 

“I’m genuinely sorry for everything that happened and I think about everyone that was hurt or killed every day. I carry them with me and I want to make it up to them but I can only do some much from here. We’ve paid for our sins, sir, and now we want to start our lives over again. Please…please give us this chance. Thank you.”

Your eyes never leave their broken frames as the judge considers the testimonies before denying their appeals again.

As they’re dragged away, you follow your ex and scream his name when you make it to the parking lot. 

“DEREK!”

“Y/N. How can I help you today?”, he replies sarcastically, reaching into his pocket to find his keys before you slide between him and his driver’s side door.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I was speaking my truth and the truths of the victims like I said.”

“Uh huh and what was all that ‘seducing my girlfriend’ crap. They didn’t take me away from you. I left because you’re a fucking dick.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You convinced yourself their innocent so—”

“They ARE innocent.”, you seethe through gritted teeth. “Stay the fuck away from them, Derek.”

“Y/N, I know you think I’m being an asshole—”

“Because you are.”

“BUT I’m doing this to protect you. The were responsible for multiple murders and you’ll be next if you stick around them.”

“I don’t need your fucking protection. I can handle myself.”

###############

February 11, 1998

The wind blows your hair back as you sit on one of the tables outside of the visitation area in the prison. Neither man says a word as the slowly take a seat with Eddie beside you and Steve in a chair by your legs. 

“How’s your face?”, you ask without looking his way. 

“Hurts.”

“Did you enjoy the appeal hearing, Y/N? Get more details to confirm the men we are.”, the metalhead asked as his gaze shifted towards the grass below. 

“Why did you never want me to go? Is it because of what I saw?”

“Because it kills us every time having to hear people like Chrissy’s family say what they say and knowing the pain they are going through…”

“Except their blaming us.”, Steve adds. “Plus, the denial every time is like a stab in the fucking heart.”

“Now Derek was new. That was a fun fucking curve ball.”

“I swear I didn’t know he’d be there.”, you insist. “I yelled at him after we left. He said he was…trying to protect me.”

“Yeah, well, we keep ruining your fucking life so maybe he has a point.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Eddie?”

“Sweetheart, when you first met us, you talked about your goals and dreams of becoming a lawyer. Now you’re talking about running away, becoming a fugitive with us, and having our kid.”

“So, you believe me now?”, you sass. “Or were you purposely trying to hurt me? How about you double down to ‘protect me’ and tell me you want nothing to do with us! I can leave and you’d never see me or this baby again!”

As you start to stand up, the blood rushes to your head and Steve catches your arm to guide you back down. 

“Fucking kid is like a vampire.”, you sigh as you dig in your bag for one of the candy snacks you now keep with you.

“Is it normal? For you to be this sick?”

“Yes and no. My doctor said I’m not ‘eating enough for two’. Add in the morning sickness and it just makes me woozy. I just need a minute and then I’ll leave.”

Eddie climbs down from the table to sit beside you on the bench as he watches you nibble on the treat. 

“We panicked, Y/N.”

“Pfft, no shit.”

“Stop it. Look… I just… I don’t want this kid growing up like me…with a dad in prison.”

“Add in the fact that we can’t be there with you for all the important stuff since we’re in here.”, Steve murmurs. “By the time we get out… Jesus…they’ll be 13.”

“I can stay away if you want me to. I can leave you in here to wallow in your self pity while I continue to live my life. Or…” You reach back into your bag and slide forward the ultrasound the doctor gave you. “…you can live your life with me.”

Eddie reaches for the image first and glides his thumb over the blob. 

“You both deserve to be happy to.”

Abruptly, the metalhead’s palm shoots out to bring your head to his chest as he cries. 

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart. I love you so much and I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

The tears began to flow as your hand clung to his arm before you felt warmth in case you as Steve leaned his cheek on your head. 

“I’m sorry to, honey. Fuck, we’re fucking idiots.”

“Yeah you are but I still love you.”, you giggle as you thread your fingers through his. 

***

Steve lays his head on his folded arms over his best friend’s bunk.

“What’s running through your mind, man?” 

Eddie sighs as he flashes his friend the picture of your ultrasound. 

“Yeah…that’s a baby.”, he responds cheekily making the metalhead grin as he punches his arm and sits up to face the man below him. 

“I’m scared, Steve. Like fucking terrified. I remember what it was like growing up with a dad in prison and I also remember how this fucking town used it against me. I don’t want anything to happen to Y/N or that little baby.”

“I can understand that but, dude, you’re not your dad and neither am I. This kid is going to grow up knowing that their dads love them—”

“Yeah, um, about that…”, Eddie cuts him off as he jumps down to the floor. “You don’t…have to…”

“Have to what?”

“I mean, obviously, I’m the father—”

“We’re both their father. Just like we both love, Y/N. Unless… you don’t want that.”

“No, no, no. I’m not saying that. I’m just—”

“Giving me an out, I know. I’ve been by your side since our fight in the Upside Down. You’re my best friend. I’m not abandoning you, man.” The metalhead wraps his arms around him as Steve does that same. “Plus, someone has to teach this kid to have an awesome fashion sense—”

The former jock laughs as his friend pushes lightly at his chest. 

######################

April 22nd, 1998

“Wow.”, Eddie sighs pleasantly as your palms cover his own against your tummy. “A real headbanger this one.”

“Pfft. You have no idea. She doesn’t stop moving especially at night.”

“She?”, Steve asks.

As you lift your gaze from your stomach, you realize both men were starring at you with wide eyes. 

“Yeah, she.”, you smile as you dig in your bag and hand him the new ultrasound. “We’ll have to think of name for her.”

The other man grins as he circles his arm around your chest and yanks you to his side to kiss the top of your head. 

“How have you been feeling, honey? You look so much better and you have that pregnancy glow thing going on.”

You giggle as you place tender kisses along the skin of his forearm. 

“Thankfully the morning sickness has passed but now I’m struggling with the intensity of a familiar feeling.”

“Everything alright?”, Eddie asks with genuine concern. “Is there anything we can do?”

Opening your legs, you hook them around the metalhead’s waist and use them to slide yourself closer to him till his face was hovering just above your own. 

“I’m sure you can think of something, Sir.”

Both men glance at each other and you hear Steve chuckle behind you making your smile widen. Currently, you three were visiting in one of the semi-private meeting rooms; it being semi because the door was open and anyone could walk in should they choose to. 

“You have to be really fucking quiet, sweetheart.”

“And quick.”, the pretty boy adds as he rises to his feet to stand by the door. 

Not wasting anymore seconds, Eddie grabbed your hand and led you to the wall near his friend so you both couldn’t be seen should anyone casually look inside. His lips feverishly kissed yours and you relished the taste as your tongue searched for his. 

Abruptly, he turned you around and you stifled the moan that wanted to break free as he lifted up your skirt and his rough hands took hold of your ass. 

“Fuck, baby, I wish we had more time.”, he murmured to himself as his tongue licked a long stripe between your folds.

Keeping you pressed to his chest, he stood to his full height and hastily pulled down his sweats. 

“Ooooh my G—”

Eddie’s free hand cut you off as he covered your mouth while he continued to guide his thick, leaking cock inside your entrance. 

“What did I say, little girl?”, he seethed through gritted teeth as he began thrusting his hips at a quick pace knowing your window was short. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Fucking missed this tight, little pussy.”

As he slammed into you, you felt your whole body come to life like it had when you were first with them. They tapped into something inside you no other man had and for that you would always be grateful. For the first time, you felt seen and heard. 

You felt alive.

Clinging to his hands around you, you melted into him as you felt your orgasm starting to build. 

“Harrington.”

Eddie’s rhythm slowed for a moment as your eyes widened at the sound of a guard’s voice you definitely recognized. The metalhead’s palm tighten against your lips but his shallow pants in your ear had you clenching around him at the sound and he tried desperately to smother the grunt from his own mouth into your shoulder. 

“Sir. How are you today?”, Steve responded casually as he leaned against the doorframe.

“I’m alright. What are you doing there?”

“I’m waiting for Y/N to come back from the bathroom. Eddie walked her down there so she’d feel more comfortable.”

Your fingers reached around to tangle in his hair as if to silently tell him everything was ok and he took the hint as he tenderly kissed your cheek before slowly rolling his hips making your eyes flutter closed. 

“I can understand that. When my wife was pregnant she went to the bathroom every 30minutes and insisted I at least be outside the door. She got super clingy.”, he chuckled as the man laughed with him. “Alright, well, visiting hours are almost up so hopefully she won’t be too much longer.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

As Eddie listened to his footsteps gradually disappear, he steadily began pounding into you till your pussy quivered around him and your whimpers were aggressively stifled as you came. 

“Good girl, sweetheart. Good girl.”, he praised over and over till his arms clung to your body as you felt his release spill inside of you. “Fuck…me… Are you alright?”

Without saying a word, you turn around and wrap your limbs around his neck as you passionately kiss his lips. 

“I love you.”

Eddie grinned down at you as he kissed you again. 

“I love you to, Y/N.”

After the two of you straighten up your appearances, you give Steve a hug and he squeezes you equally as tight. 

“Next time?”

You smile when you feel his whole body shake as he laughs. 

“Yeah, honey, next time. Jesus, you’re so fucking adorable. I love you.”

“I love you to, baby.”, you beam as you lift up on your tiptoes to kiss his lips. 

Hand in hand they walk you to the end of the hall before pausing as you turn around to face them. 

“How about Olivia? I always thought that name was beautiful.”

“It is a beautiful name…like you.”, Eddie coos as he reaches out to caress your cheek. “I like it. What about you, Stevie?”

“I think it’s perfect.”

######################

May 1st, 1998

“What’s going on, Bobby?”, Steve asked the guard at his side as both men were being led down long hallway to rooms they utilized for interrogations. “Did they find something about our case?”

“No.”, the man replied flatly before pausing at a nearby door. “He’s asking that the two of you remain handcuffed since you ‘jumped’ her boyfriend last time.”

“He who? Is this about Y/N? Is she alright?!”

“Shhhhhh!”, the guard shushed as he yanked on Eddie’s arm to silence him. “I’m on your side guys, ok?”

They nodded but were still apprehensive when the door was slowly opened and they were led inside. 

The first thing they saw was you as your head shot up to meet their nervous expressions. Your eyes were red and your cheeks were tear streaked even though you quickly tried to wipe them away on your sleeve. Your hair was frayed and you were wearing a shirt that was three times too big for you as it hung of your shaking frame. 

“What’s going on?”, Eddie asked again. “Y/N, are you ok—”

“Sit down.”, a man beside you commanded in a deep voice.

Glaring his way, they stood up straighter.

“I swear to God, if we find out you hurt her or—MMPH!” You gasped as Steve was cut off by the man’s fist hitting his stomach hard. 

“I said…sit…down.”, he growled as both men were tugged to the seats across from you both and restrained to the table in front of them. 

“Are you ok?”, you whimpered quietly as the boy nodded and raised his eyebrows as if to ask you the same question. “I’m so sorry—"

“No. What did I say, Y/N?”, the man huffed before taking a seat beside you again. “Now let’s try this again.”

Nodding towards the guards, they exited the room and shut the door behind them. 

“I’ve heard you have a little thing going on with Y/N and I’m here to tell you that ends today. No more visits or phone calls. No more letters and no more project. She’ll have to find someone else to do it on if she even fucking graduates on time thanks to this ‘unexpected miracle’.” 

The disgust in his words makes you recoil as both men’s blood start to boil over.

“Who the fuck do you think you are to tell us or her what to do?”, Steve responds with a rough edge to his tone.  

“You can’t stop us from loving her. Just because we’re in here doesn’t mean you can keep her from us.”

“Oh, gentlemen. I assure you, I can. I’m a well-respected police officer and you are two convicts who murdered people. I have more pull in this town than you think and since Y/N is my daughter I can do whatever I have to do to keep her away from you.”

###########

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon @rockmusiciscalming12 @mikeyswifie @poofyloofy @eddiexmunsonlover @dreamliners @munsonmoonshine86 @bexreadstoomuch @kitkat80

[sunny44]

Ruin it

Pairing: Max Verstappen x journalist!reader

Warnings: SMUT, cuss words, cheating and probably other things.

Summary: You and max were always teasing each other and over the years it turned into a huge sexual tension, until the fights of all the years and the accumulated lust turned into one long night of great sex.

Next chapter

Max Verstappen.

We certainly had our moments.

Max and I used to race in go-karts together with Charles, Pierre, Alex and a few other drivers from the current grid and he hated the fact that I always beat him.

Which means he hated me too.

Over the years our fights became teasing and a huge sexual tension that we both realized but pretended we didn't since Max was with Kelly and for obvious reasons she didn't like me either.

Over time I realized that karting was just a hobby that I enjoyed so I didn't invest in a racing career and went into journalism becoming a formula 1 reporter.

We were in Vegas for the first Grand Prix in the city and I was very excited, especially as today it could be decided between Max and Charles who would be the world champion.

The cars were lined up in their positions and when the red lights went out the chaos started, at the first lap we lost George, Magnussen, Piastri and Ocon.

On lap 34 Charles takes Max's position taking first place and me as a reporter who can't have favorites follow me too much not to celebrate in front of everyone.

Charles was my friend and I really wanted him to win but I think I wanted Max to lose much more.

But unfortunately in the end Max passed Charles and became 3 times world champion.

The podium was fast, the champagne looked great and now I was here doing the interviews with the drivers and finally my arch enemy appears.

"Well Max we can say it was a great day for you today."

"Absolutely, we were flying."

"How does it feel to have become Formula 1 world champion for the third time?"

"I'm very happy, this result means that all the hard work team and I have put in over the year has not been in vain and now I'm looking forward to having a drink and celebrating."

"That's great, hope you have an amazing night and we see you next year." He smiles and waves leaving."Well guys that was 3 time world champion Max Verstappen, I'm

Y/n y/l/n and we end our 2023 season, see you next year."

They turn off the camera and I thank the whole team and pick up my things leaving when someone calls out to me.

"I could almost see the look of disgust on your face, lucky it's only me."

"Don't you have a party to go to?" I ask turning around and seeing Max.

"We do and it's at the Plaza, your name is on the list in case you want to go."

"And why would I go?"

"To celebrate that I won."

"I wasn't rooting for you to win."

"I know, and you have no idea how much that motivated me to win." He says stepping close to me. "I'm counting on you being there."

"Your girlfriend doesn't mind you being here trying to convince me to come to your little party?"

"She's not the boss of me and she didn't come to the race."

"Got it, I hope you have a bad night." I say walking out and just hear him yell one back.

...

I was lying on my bed staring at the ceiling with a lot of boredom thinking about the party Max had invited me to. Obviously I didn't want to go somewhere where he was but staying here in the room alone while I could be there drinking and having fun was also not an option.

So I got ready and asked for an Uber to the place where the party was going to be, I gave my name at the entrance and they said I was in the VIP area which I wouldn't go because obviously there would be few people and Max would be one of them.

I went to the bar to get something to drink and I felt a presence behind me and when I turned around to see who it was I saw only his chest and I looked up and Max was there with those damn blue eyes that I could spend the day looking at.

"I thought you said you weren't coming."

"Yeah but I was lying naked in my hotel bed with nothing to do so I thought a free drink wouldn't be a bad idea."

"I have lots of ideas of what you could have done naked in your hotel bed." He says coming closer.

"And are you in any of them?"

"Maybe."

"Then put it out of your mind because as far as I know you're committed to miss I’m dating an f1 champion."

"Imagining is not cheating as far as I know."

"If you say so." I downed my drink and looked at him. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go dance and maybe find someone to take me back to my hotel room."

…

The party was great and I was sweaty from dancing, I went to get a drink of water and saw Daniel coming towards me.

"Can I ask you a favor?" He says taking a deep breath after seemingly circling the whole party looking for me.

"Sure."

"Can you take Max back to the hotel? I already tried but he said he won't leave unless he goes with you."

"Fucking hell." I say following him and see Max drunkenly calling my name.

"There you are." He gets up and almost goes but I hold him back. "Where have you been all party?"

"Having fun far away from you."

"Ouch." He runs his hand over my face, taking away the hair that was there. "Wow, you're so beautiful."

"Thanks, let's go."

After a lot of effort we managed to get to the hotel, I couldn't find his room keys and Max muttered something about them being with Daniel so I took his hand and we walked to my room, he was already much better since the city traffic was crazy and took us an hour to get here, he was still a little altered but he knew what he was doing.

"Are you going to let me sleep in your room?"

"Well I'm not going to go chasing someone to get another key to your room and I'm not going to let you leave like that either so it looks like we don't have any other option."

That said I go to get my pajamas but when I went to pass he put his hands around my waist and put his face close to mine.

"You're beautiful you know that right?"

"You already said that, like a while ago."

"I know but I wanted to say it again." I hated it when he looked me straight in the eye because I couldn't look away from those damn blue eyes.

"I hate it when you stare at me."

"Why?"

"Because I hate that I can't stop looking into your eyes."

"Good, because I don't want you to stop looking at them." He comes even closer. "Do you even know how hard I'm trying not to ruin my relationship right now?"

"Ruin it." I say without even thinking.

"What?" he asks shocked.

"I said ruin it."

Max and I start kissing and at the same time his tongue enters my mouth, it was a wild kiss that I could not separate even if I wanted to.

We walk without separating the kiss to the bed where he lays me down and gets on top of me.

One of his hands was on my face and my hands pass through his back going to the hem of his shirt trying to take it off.

He understands my gesture and takes off his shirt and he stops for a few seconds and just stares at me before taking off my blouse and starts kissing down to my neck and my breast.

I lift my back from the bed for him to open my bra and Max wastes no time in starting to suck my breast making me squirm on the bed.

He goes down the kisses to my belly and with his hands squeezes my breasts, he kisses my pussy still covered with the thin lace of my black pantries and soon removes all my clothes leaving me completely naked.

He kisses my thighs and starts massaging my clit with his fingertips making me moan and soon I feel his tongue on my pussy making quick movements.

He stared at me and the exchange of glances was what was making the environment even hotter than it already was.

I raise my hips giving him access to all my pussy and he holds my hips and leaves a strong grip on my ass, then he sticks two fingers inside my pussy without cutting the movement of his mouth.

"Fuck." I grumble trying to hold back my moans. "Keep doing it like that, that's how I want it."

He adds a third finger and I can't control any more moans, they are getting louder and louder.

I feel my legs starting to shake, signaling that I'm going to come at any moment.

I warn him and he intensifies his movements until I reach my limit.

He swallows my cum and continues in my pussy until he starts kissing my whole body, leaving some hickeys on my breast and going to my neck and reaching my ear.

"I knew one day I would make you scream my name in the middle of the night." he bites my lobe and kisses my mouth again.

I take off the bottom of his clothes, also leaving him naked, and switch our positions getting on top of him.

I sit on his lap and start to make a delicious friction in our intimacies hearing a muffled moan from the blond and his cock getting more and more bigger.

He holds my neck tight and makes me lie completely on top of him while he attacks my lips.

I stop the kiss and make a trail of kisses down his neck leaving some hickeys on the way until I reach his cock and kiss the tip.

When I was about to start sucking his cock, Max holds my hair tightly and starts making the movements himself making me choke a few times, his moans were getting louder and louder when he increases the movements and cums in my mouth.

I don't usually swallow, but this time I did it without thinking twice.

"How about you sitting on my face?" I walk over to him and sit on his face.

I hold onto the headboard, making back and forth movements while he sucks me and holds my breasts tight while I go up and down doing all the work while his tongue remains still.

He stops sucking me and I sit back on his lap as he looks at me, seeming to have an idea.

"I want to fuck you in a different way." he says in his sexy voice. "Face the window, I want everyone to see that you're mine tonight."

I do as he asks thanking that my room is on the second to last floor because they would never be able to see that it's the two of us.

"Good girl, now I'm going to fuck you, but you choose." He grabs my neck. "Do you want it tender or do you want a fuck with all the positions we can handle?"

"Fuck me hard, make me yours." I try to turn towards him but he won't let me.

"Your wish is my command schatz." he begins to fit his cock in my intimacy.

At that time I didn't care about anything, I didn't care that it was him, I didn't care that we were having sex let alone that he had a girlfriend that he was cheating on right now.

Soon he begins to give strong strokes in and out of me holding my neck with one hand as he squeezes my breast with de other.

He gets out of me and turns me over, putting my back against the window and grabbing my legs with his arms and fitting his member into me again in a strong and aggressive way.

The thrusts continue stronger and stronger and the only noises we hear in the room is our bodies colliding and heavy breathing.

We try to hold back our moans but every exit and entry inside me makes me want to scream his name.

I pull him into a kiss and he bites my bottom lip and still kissing me, Max leads me to the bed leaving my back against the mattress and him on top of me fucking me like it's the last thing he would do.

The last thing we would ever do.

Due to lack of air we stop the kiss and my hands go to his back leaving several scratches, I see him staring at me while I call his name.

I announce my apex to him who is also reaching his.

When I reach my limit and he continues inside me going faster and faster making me scream for him until he comes.

He gets out of me and I change position to doggy and he leaves a slap on my ass, entering me again and going slowly to torture me, until he increases the speed.

He squeezes my breasts and massages my nipple.

He pulls out of me and lies down pulling me to sit on his lap.

I fit his member inside me and start to ride slowly while he squeezes my waist and I start to move up and down when taking his member out of me, until we cum again and I fall tired on his chest.

He leaves a kiss on my forehead and keeps messing with my hair without changing position.

After a while of caresses between the two of us, we left and went straight to the bathroom, he discarded the condom while I went into the shower but he came after, I was on my back to him when he takes my wet hair off my neck and starts kissing him all over and turns me to him starting to kiss my mouth leaning me against the wall while the hot water falls on both of us.

He goes down and leaves a hickey in the middle of my breasts and goes down the kisses and penetrates me with three fingers, I put my hand on my mouth to contain the moans while he fucks me once again.

Soon he leaves a kiss on my pussy and goes back up making a trail of kisses through my body and he lifts my left leg and fucks me mercilessly.

With each thrust he says how beautiful I am and what a wonderful woman I was.

He bites my ear and my nipple in a pleasurable way, while his hands are on my ass.

He squeezes and moans softly in my ear, until together we reach our limit.

We shower together while he washes my hair and I do the same with him.

Leaving the shower, Max put on his underwear and I took his blouse and my panties and put them on too.

When we lay down he pulled me on top of him and soon he was asleep but I kept thinking about how we would react tomorrow morning after we recounted the conscience of our deeds, but honestly I wasn't going to lose my sleep thinking about it now, it was already done and I decided that tomorrow I would worry about it.

This is probably going to have more parts so let me know if you want to be tagged in the next ones.

[juniperdugong]

Let's leave a message...

Pairing: Nanami x GN!reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst CW: post death Nanami, mentions of death WC: 800

Day 5 of To Halloween with Love Event

A/N: Am I sorry that the first Nanami fic I make is angst? Nahhhh

You were shaking - so absolutely terrified of any result that would come out of your little endeavor tonight. If it didn't work then you'd just be left feeling as empty if not more so than before. If it did work then... well you didn't know what would happen but any way that this went you'd probably be left crying.

---

The last time you and Nanami spoke was over text. You waited outside the bakery that you both had wanted to go to since its opening. It's been months since the actual opening date but your schedules never aligned perfectly for anything more than a date-night-in since then.

Shifting in your clothes you leaned up against the wall. Neither of you minded if the other was ever late, things happen and at least you both would be able to spend time together no matter how small. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, must be a text from Kento letting you know he'll be there soon.

[6:48pm] Sorry, my love. Got called in. Looks like I'll be working overtime, don't wait up for me. Just get yourself something sweet on my card.

You can't deny that you felt a tinge of disappointment but more so than that you felt sad. This was one of the only nights you had off for a while and you'd both talked about how important it was to make time for each other amidst the chaos of work.

Dragging yourself back to the subway station after grabbing whatever pastry caught your eye, you try to hide the small tears that dare will themselves out of you. It really shouldn't surprise you - Nanami's job was important, you didn't understand just how important... but important enough to forgive him when it came to moments like this.

Another dinging vibration comes from your pocket,

[6:59pm] I love you so much, y/n.

And your heart pangs with hurt - a sinking feeling that overwhelms you as you step onto the crowded train car.

"Announcement: All lines bound for Shibuya station have been suspended. Please make the necessary transfers to get to your intended destination. For help please visit..."

---

And you would've said it back had you known what would happen that night. The unforgivable pain that that night and the days after would bring you. The memory of having to identify a half-burnt body lying on a metal table in front of people you know have a hand in making him go to Shibuya that night. Those colleagues and supervisors who, above all, kept a straight face as you wailed and failed to comfort you by telling you off stories about their history with Nanami that you could care less about after the death of your fiance.

But now there was a chance, however slim, of redemption. A board in front of you as you held a planchette to your heart in silent prayer that you hoped the man you'd once dreamed of calling husband could hear.

You made sure everything was perfect, even going as far as getting professional opinion on the session from a psychic - Of course ignoring the bit about never attempting to contact someone you once knew or doing the session alone. This was important enough that such a warning meant nothing in your mind.

Gathering your courage you finally placed the planchette on the board, "Nanami Kento... if you are here with me- God, I hope you are- If you are here please move the piece towards 'YES' on the board"

And you waited. Repeating yourself after 4 minutes. And then again at 3 minutes later. And once more after a full 10 minutes had passed. By now your confidence had dwindled enough to think this was a completely stupid thing to try. About to take your hands off the board the clock struck 7pm.

Your hands begin to move and for a second you think it's your subconscious trying to make up for all the sadness in your heart so that you won't fall deeper into despair and depression. "YES", it led you.

"Who is this?"

K-E-N

You couldn't handle it. Tears overcome you as your body quivers from the emotions flooding your system and you hope to whoever was on the other side of this board that this wasn't a sick game.

"Hey, K- Ken..." You sobbed between speaking, "How have you been?" And you smile weakly - In the moment forgetting procedure and letting your hands fall from the board to wipe your tears.

O-K M-Y L-O-V-E

Your eyes bulge out of your skull as the planchette moves on its own instinctively backing away speechless you gasp as you hit something behind you. A cold chill enrapturing your body.

"Lovely, I hate seeing you cry..."

A/N: Oh to be haunted by ghost Nanami... wouldn't be afraid of those peeping eyes for sureeee, this took longer for me to write because of how I wanted to approach it. Honestly could be a fic.

Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)

JJK Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb

[rosiethorns88]

Here it is! The final design for the @fairyloot edition of the OUABH trilogy! These are the reverse dust jacket and hard case foil designs for the FL A Curse for True Love by @stephanie_garber , and what a finale it is! Anissa (FL) and Stephanie requested a green, gold and pink scheme for this one and the entire set of jackets have such a great color scheme together as a result! As I did with the TBONA jacket, I utilized fairylights to illuminate the lanterns. There's just no replicating that warm, fuzzy glow in papercraft, and it adds a fantastic radiance to the piece. (Also, if you told me 6 years ago I'd be making a tasteful strip-tease of one of my favourite characters in papercraft, I would have choked on my drink.) Meanwhile, we had an absolute blast with the hard case foil design! Stephanie's direction with the changing titles (referencing the changing stories in the Magnificent North) was definitely on display here! Evangeline is on both sides, but the front references Apollo while the back references Jacks! TBONA/ACFTL SPOILERS BELOW: // To emphasize these changes, Evangeline stands under a shower of stars in a too-good-to-be-true dream-like state. On the back, she stands under a shower of arrows, tears streaming, cause chasing true love can sometimes hurt! As if this wasn't a great concept already, but execution of the reveal? If you'll recall, a copy of the FL edition was accidentally shipped with standard editions a scant few weeks before the ACFTL release. A person bought it and posted a few spoilers, including both sides of the foil design. Except some people were only sharing the Apollo side (and rightly raging at the injustice of such a title!), and a few others sharing the Jacks side. The titles kept changing, no one knew the truth and everything was chaos, just like in the Magnificent North! It was great. 🤣🤭 // END SPOILERS Super fun time with both of these! And bittersweet now that the trilogy is ended! Thank you again to @fairyloot, Anissa and Stephanie for the opportunity to work on these! And to have the pieces stand by the GORGEOUS endpaper artworks by @aleikats for each book, these editions are truly special!

[vrisrezis]

need a part 2 for the atsv love triangle where the reader is actually in love with them and after they get together they tell them about their alter ego 😩

Your wish is my command y’all!

Gwen is was carrying you, bridal style, swinging away with you in her arms. Not that you knew it was gwen anyway. Spiderwoman, upon meeting you, often decided to take you home as a means of protection, because for some reason you decided walking home in the middle of the night was a swell idea. She offered to swing you home as a result. If you didn’t know any better though, you’d say it was because she loved flirting with you so much. She never denied it when you brought it up. Honestly, she’s just not used to such a flustered look on your face, she can’t help herself. Though she does secretly envy how the real her can’t manage you make you all shy and embarrassed like that.

Today though, you seemed rather… off. Something was bothering you, and she could tell. Nothing seemed off at school, so she figured something had to have happened. “What’s got you so upset?” she questions before dropping down on top the roof of a building. “Somebody I gotta knock some sense into?” she asks, putting you down to stand next to her, looking at the scenery before you, it was nice out today. You smile, but even that feels forced. She can’t help but frown under the mask and the worry she carries is radiating off of her. You shake your head, “it’s nothing to worry about” you say before shrugging, “just normal highschool stuff.”

“What does that mean?” she inquired, and you sigh, albeit rather dramatically.” “It’s so stupid.” You admit, but before you can assure you it probably isn’t, you continue “there’s just this girl I really like. More than like. I think I love her.”

As soon as those words come out of your mouth, she feels her heart drop. Girl? Was it her? Spiderwoman? Or some other girl at school? You didn’t talk to many people aside from her, who could it possibly be?

“O-oh..” she says, looking down for a moment. She hopes you don’t hear the crack in her voice. She can’t help her curiosity, she needs to know. “Well.. who is it?” she says, trying to recover as quickly as possible. She nudges you with her elbow, “need to know if they’re good enough for you or just some tool.”

You laugh, and give her a smile. “Her names… gwen..”

“G-gwen?!” she shrieks out, her body stiffening. You don’t seem to notice.

“Yeah.. gwen… gwen stacy…”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, but she eventually grabs onto your shoulder.

“Y/n…”

“Yeah?” you ask, confused for a moment, before you see her pull at her mask. Your eyes widen, and you suddenly feel a wash of shame upon seeing who’s under the mask.

However, she gives you a smile.

“I… love you too… by the way..”

Miles had a very simple plan, no big deal at all. All he had to do was confess he was in love with you and then eventually down the line if it works out in his favor, confess to being spiderman. No big deal…..

Or should he do it in the opposite order?

And should he still confess to being spiderman if you two end up staying friends when you reject him?

He has a lot of questions racking his brain, and to be fair he doesn’t think it’s completely unreasonable. Maybe he should’ve told you from the start. Would you even be accepting? Supportive? He’s been lying to you for a whole ass year now, you were kind, but were you that kind? He feels like there’s just no way, right? Then again, you never failed to surprise him.

He doesn’t have time to think about these questions any longer though, as he hears chaos going on outside. Not the normal kind of chaos, this was his cue.

His confession would have to wait a little longer.

—

He’s quick to his feet. Not that spiderman didn’t give it his all when it came to saving civilians, but he saw you in the fray. He bounces from building to building, webbing civilians to safety along the way, he sees you fall and he’s never jumped so fast in his life.

He reaches his hand out to yours, and finally you’re able to grab on and he’s able to pull you into his arms, picking you up bridal style all while in the air.

“We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this..” miles mutters to you, and you chuckle lightly. “Yeah well..” she look off to the side, before looking back at him. “You could always take me on a date, miles.”

Miles?

Date?

“Excusemewhatnow?”

as soon as he lands, you manage to escape his grip. Maybe it was because he was so caught off guard, since normally escaping his grasp was near impossible.

“We’ll talk later!”

You were going to be the death of him.

Hobie had enough.

If you weren’t going to figure this out on your own, he was gonna have to tell you.

I mean seriously, he loves you but you are so clueless sometimes and he genuinely wonders if you admire spiderpunk so much that you don’t want to consider he could be your best friend. He wonders if he’s being selfish and if this ruins the imagination for you but at this point he’s too pent up to even care, something he isn’t used to being. He’s typically so honest about the way he feels, never holding anything back. This should be no different.

He leaves his bag zipper carelessly open, in hopes you find it. And you do. He’s busy cleaning up his guitar, but he sees you look at him, then look back at the spider suit in the corner of his eye.

But you say nothing.

You go on about your day like you didn’t just see that.

Is he the one being played?

He eventually decides he needs to simply confront you. There’s no way around it. So he does.

It’s one of those many nights where you two are hanging out, as friends do. You’re both lying on his bed, side to side, he’s writing a song, you’re reading a comic book. He turns over on his right side to look at you, and you do the same on your left side. “Hey.” he whispers, “hey yourself.” you whisper back with a smile. He rolls his eyes.

Just be cool, man. He tells himself.

“You know..” he starts slowly, a bit unsure of the next words that will come out of his mouth, “you know I’m spiderman, right?”

He doesn’t have time to dwell on just how casual that was, to drop some information like that so simply. Then again, he did that constantly. This felt so different though.

“Yeah..” you let out a sigh, and hobie realizes that you really were playing with him the whole time. But before he can rely, you say “you know I’m in love with you, any version of you, right?”

He feels his heart stop for a moment, but he gives no indication that he’s flustered by your words.

“About damn time you said somethin, darlin”

Pavitr thinks about it, over and over and over and over and ov-

He just doesn’t know how to tell you he’s spiderman. He’s been so buys living the life as spiderman, it felt so simple, so easy. Go to school, beat up some bad guys, take some breaks to see you and his auntie, go back to fighting, come home. It was the same everytime and he didn’t seem bored of it, yet.

He hadn’t really gotten to see the consequences of being spiderman.

And then he did, when he nearly lost you. He was only able to save you because miles, gwen, and hobie were there to help him.

And from then on he knew he couldn’t lie to you anymore.

Things have been.. weird lately, to say the least. Some weird ass dark black abyss in the middle of mumbattan left many civilians curious, including yourself.

Though Pavitr felt like he could explain those bits later, he knew he just needed to tell you what was on his mind.

Because he and you both knew, he had something to say.

Spending time in your room wasn’t a rare occurrence but Pavitr found himself doing it a lot more lately, which in your opinion was good given how busy he’s been lately. You figured he must’ve been freaked out by mumbattan nearly falling apart at the seams, and you tried to be there for him. He made it clear he was there for you, too.

“Y/n I have to tell you something.” he says, turning to look at you.

You look back at him, knowing this would be a serious conversation. He never called you by your actual name, usual nicknames. You nod and place your hand on top of his, and you give him one of your warm smiles. He feels heat rush to his cheeks, but for once he doesn’t let his nerves stop him. He moves his hand to intertwine your fingers together, “I’m…” there’s a pause, and you figure you have to assure him you know.

“You’re spiderman?” you ask, and there’s a moment he looks at you, shocked. His mouth is agape, and you can’t help but smirk. “You know?!” you scoff, “yeah of course I know pav I’m not an idiot!” you say with a laugh, and a lot of his tension dissipates before he remembers what he wants to tell you.

“Well.. while that is true, that isn’t what I was gonna tell you.”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised, you raise a brow. “Yeah?”

He takes a moment, before blurting it out.

“I’minlovewithyou!” the words all come out jumbled at once and he almost considered repeating himself before you give him a kiss on the cheek. “In love with you too, pav. But I also knew that already.” you say cheekily, “what?! How?!” “You’re not exactly subtle” you shrug.

“Can I have any victory today? Can we start over and you just pretend you didn’t know?”

you smile and shake your head, and he groans.

But honestly, the only reason he’s being so silly right now is so he doesn’t absolutely melt into your hands like putty over the fact you kissed him on the cheek.