#and this chapter is still nowhere being done

[bee-devilling]

Oooh, that's so cool! Been a while since I listened to Ride the Cyclone. What's the fic about? And how much angst are we talking about? I am a sucker for angsty fics sometimes, whether or not I'm in the fandom.

The fic is set in an Everyone Lives AU (well, except Karnak and Virgil I guess. They're still very dead) but it goes into some detail as to how everyone is left after the accident. It ranges from temporary disabilities like broken bones, permanent disabilities like amputated limbs, and also not accident-related permanent disabilities, because when your body is under immense stress sometimes you discover shit you didn't realise you struggled with before.

But most of what I've written has been little bits and pieces after these events, some of which include:

All of the choir members learning ASL to communicate better with Ricky (unbeknownst to him, at least for the first while). Some members were fluent already (Specifically Constance. Noel would also sort of be in this category, but the second anyone tries to fingerspell something longer than 3 letters, he gives up.), some knew bits of it, like "please", "thank you", "yes" and "no", etc. and some were complete beginners. But they realised after the accident that Ricky has a lot to say, even if it wasn't verbally, and they wanted to bridge that gap. The first thing Ocean's signs to Ricky is a genuine, heartfelt apology for the way she's treated him.

Everyone is just A Little Off after the accident. Nothing big, no major health risks or nothing, and also I haven't quite decided what's happening to who. But one of them is just incredibly twitchy, and it's entirely uncontrollable. Another has levels of brain fog that is really starting to affect their studies. Another has heart palpitations, which took several incidents for them to realise they're not dying, this is just a thing that happens to them now. Not entirely the "came back wrong" trope, they're all basically the same people, but their bodies just didn't quite catch up to being reanimated.

Talia passing away. I feel a little horrible writing it, but I wanted to give her character a bit more respect than what most of the fandom gives her (which is just removing her in the quickest way possible to make room for Nischa) and I feel like letting Mischa grieve is a kinder way to remove her from the story. Also I haven't written the actual chapter in which this occurs yet, but I've written the 3 page letter (could be more, it's not 100% done) Talia sends Mischa to apologise for not telling him about her illness sooner.

Ocean dealing with hEDS after the accident (cos we love giving characters similar disabilities to me), because why not have her learn to stop spreading herself too thin by making a physical barrier in her way to stop her from pushing herself.

Mother-son bonding between Noel and his mom. Because yes, this is the woman who told her son to "dial it back" on his queerness but at the end of the day, it's 2009 in the middle of Bumfuck Nowhere, and I just feel that she wants her son to be safe above all else. Parents go about things the wrong way, but it doesn't make them inherently evil or abusive. Give her some understanding, some empathy.

Some of them just being a little queer. Or a lot queer. Noel fucking around with his gender expression, wearing dresses and makeup (though maybe not as risqué as the Monique Gibeau outfit), Ricky and Penny using each other to test out new pronouns, also I read a fic (I'll tag the writer if I can find it again) where Penny/Jane uses the name PJ and I wanna steal that idea so bad, I love it. Ocean cutting her hair short and wearing the "boys'" St. Cassian uniform (Butch Ocean is not a want, it's a need)

Anyway this is all I can remember right now, I'm sure there's more I could add. Thanks for the ask :D

[hikaricharity]

I AM SPEED

[marcelineuntitled]

starting to work on that raven cycle animatic again

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 18 || The Emotional Arc

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, angst, & fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.6k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——OKAY... THAT'S WEIRD, VERY WEIRD.

Where the hell is Choso?

For starters, your bedroom is dark so you're pretty sure it's early in the morning-- perhaps two or three am, maybe later. You don't know how long you passed out but based on the stillness and darkness that surrounds you, you can tell the sun has yet to rise.

You slowly sit up, having been lying on your side. The second you move, you can feel the soreness in your legs, "Cho...?" You call out softly.

No response.

Hell, it's almost scary how your voice echoes through your apartment. With the way your bed is, you can see straight out of your bedroom door and you get an awkward view of your living room to some extent.

You're able to tell that the TV is off. A slow gulp emits from you as you swallow hard. Did... Did Choso leave you?

Your head shakes the thought away as quickly as it came. You turn to your nightstand and squint your eyes to look for your phone, soon spotting the device and reaching for it. You have no texts or calls from the man, there's no kind of note left to say anything, and you only grow more worried.

Though, you don't want to panic completely until you make sure you're not going crazy. Maybe he fell asleep on the couch?

Right. With that in mind, you sigh and put your phone back down, carefully swinging your slightly trembling and overly sore legs off the bed. Your feet make contact with the cold floor below and you inhale deeply.

The man is probably just sleeping on the couch out of some kind of respect, right? He probably didn't want to somehow make you uncomfortable by sleeping next to you... Yeah, that sounds like something he'd do.

You have to extend your hand out to your nightstand and use that to stand on your feet. Everything from the waist down feels sore and shaky. You turn away from the nightstand and use whatever surfaces you can to make it to your room door.

Every step you take is frustrating. You thought Mr. Fushiguro had done a number on you but what Choso did was so much worse.

When you get to your bedroom door, you narrow your eyes and take in the entirety of your apartment. It's all dark and you can't see anything. You'd turn on the lights but if Choso's asleep, you don't want to wake him.

So instead, you walk with your arm against the wall, using it to hold yourself up through each step until you eventually reach the living room. You take small but quick steps toward the couch, approaching the back of it and resting your hands on it.

Choso isn't there either.

The couch not only looks completely cleaned of all evidence but it also smells good. There's like a little lemon scent emitting from the freshly cleaned cushions. No one would ever know that you squirted all over Choso's face in this very spot just a few hours ago.

His clothes, which you remembered being in some pile on the floor, are nowhere to be seen. Neither is his phone, keys, or anything that belongs to him. You glance over to your front door where you know shoes are usually lined up and still, no sign of anything belonging to Choso.

Okay... don't panic yet... He could be... in the bathroom?

So, that's your next destination. You wobble toward the guest bathroom, then the bathroom in your bedroom, and even the bathroom in Shoko's bedroom. All void of any signs of Choso. You checked around Shoko's room a little too just in case but still, nothing.

Your heartbeat is steadily increasing in nervousness. There's this subtle panging in your heart but you keep ignoring it as you check other parts of your apartment.

Of course, your apartment is only but so big and there aren't that many places the man could've gone. The last place you end up in is the kitchen and by that time you're hoping and praying that's where he is.

Alas, your kitchen is empty. There's that panging in your chest again, this time stronger than the last and completely unignorable. A shaky exhale leaves your lips as you gather the fact that the man left you.

Sure, he cleaned you off and made sure there was no mess left but... You're left feeling so... used?

You blink, an abrupt wetness glossing over your eyes for a moment. Your sights shoot up to your ceiling as you chuckle at yourself, almost like a madwoman. The sound of your soft laughter fills the air, followed by a sniffle and a shake of your head.

You didn't just get played right?

No. No way. Not when you're already forced to whore yourself out. Not after the weeks you spent getting to know Choso. Not after he left such a beautiful mark on your heart. And certainly not after you caught feelings for him...

A snicker leaves your lips. At this point, you felt like you were going crazy. There's absolutely no way Choso just used you for sex.

You laugh at yourself before exiting your kitchen and wobbling back to your bedroom. You shake your head at your thoughts as you climb back into your bed.

Nope, he didn't just use you. He totally didn't fuck you and leave. Choso definitely did not play you. If anything, you're dreaming right now.

Yeah, that's the most logical thing, right? You waking up alone like this is nothing more than a figment of your imagination--  a nightmare, even.

Surely, if you lay back down and go back to sleep, you'll wake up in the real world where Choso is holding you in his arms and he'll tell you that you had some kinda bad dream about him leaving you.

Mhm, yup, that's exactly what's going to happen. You comfort yourself into your mattress, your head sinking into your pillow as you shut your eyes and try to force yourself back to sleep.

You try to shut your brain up and fall asleep but... your thoughts won't stop.

Is this what you get? Is this some kind of punishment for something you did? Did Choso really leave you like this? Not even a text or note? Just nothing? Is this the kinda guy he really is, the kind to just fuck and leave?

And Gojo said Choso didn't understand the concept of hookup... Yeah, that's bullshit. Hell, everything Gojo's told you is probably bullshit. All his stupid difficulty levels, this stupid list, the stupid amount of money he gives you, that stupid promise he made to you, all of it.

Everything Gojo told you about anyone on that list was a damn lie. It's all a lie. It's all bullshit. None of it makes sense. You hate the list, you hate Gojo, and you think you're gonna hate Choso if you wake up and he's really not there...

There's a sharp throb in your heart at that last thought of yours. You? Hate Choso? In what universe...??

He was so nice to you, so caring, so gentle, so fucking hot... There were no red flags, were there? Did he ever give off anything suspicious or negative-

Holy shit, wait.

Your eyes open and your heart drops for a second.

Did he... Did he find your journal?

As quickly as the thought echoes in your brain, you remember that the journal is hidden in a locked dresser drawer and the key to said lock is in only a place you'd know. Realistically speaking, he'd have to be a really nosy person to have found your journal.

So with that, you scratch that possibility off.

Leaving only one...

Choso left you because he got what he wanted.

But, that just can't be true. You should call him, right? Maybe text him and ask where he went...

Yeah, that's smart.

You sit up halfway and look at your idle phone. For some reason, you just freeze as you look at the device.

Do you really want to know the truth about why he left? What if he doesn't even answer the phone? What if he blocked you? What if he does answer the phone and does a complete one-eighty with his personality? What if Choso is secretly an asshole?

You grit your teeth as you stare at your phone, a sudden slip of water rolling down your cheek. The feeling makes you sit up fully, rushing a hand to your face and wiping the single tear away.

Does that help though? No. Right after one tear, multiple begin streaming down your face. Fuck, you can't do this right now.

It's too much. Between the overwhelming stress you've been suppressing for weeks because of the list, the sudden feeling of being used, thinking Choso's just an asshole, and the horrid ache in your legs... you can't take it anymore.

Everything sucks. This profuse rush of stress, anxiety, and self-pity engulfs you. Is this all you are to these men? Just some tool for them to use whenever they want?

Gojo uses you to clear his debt and now Choso uses you for... what, his own amusement??

So this is all you're good for then. This is all they view you as-- a tool.

You dread this feeling swirling in your heart. You feel like trash, like you've been abandoned by the one person you least expected it from.

Tears are coming in a little heavier now as you pull your knees to your chest and cry into your blanket. You're too scared to call or text him. You don't even want to face the truth, too scared of the reality you may have to face.

Things were going so well for you just a few hours ago. Is this some kind of curse or something? This is the second time things have gone from great to terrible in less than twenty-four hours.

And like always, aside from yourself, you blame Gojo for it all. Damn him. It's his fault you met Choso, his fault you had to seduce the guy... not so much his fault that you caught feelings though-- that's on you.

The sound of your sniffles and soft weeps fills the dead air of your apartment.

You don't know how long you sit there crying but it was long enough for a headache to develop.

Now everything hurts; your legs, your heart, and your head. You're in such a shit mood and you're so consumed by all these emotions that you can't even stop yourself from crying.

"Shit," A voice sighs out, the sound followed by a soft thud.

Your head flies up from your blanket at the noise, your eyes frantically searching the darkness outside your bedroom.

All teary-eyed and emotional, you just barely make out a figure approaching your bedroom.

Your brows push together and after a sniffle, your voice comes out choked, "Ch-Choso?"

With his hair down casually, a white and red plastic bag in his hands, and his eyes down on his phone before he walks into your room, Choso Kamo's silhouette is made out despite your hazed vision.

"Hm? Did you call me?" Choso hums, his brows quickly pushing together and his voice filled with confusion as to why you sound so distraught.

You wonder if you imagine the way he places both the bag in his hands and his phone down on the bed before making his way over to you.

Choso takes a seat in front of you and due to the dark, he couldn't quite tell you were crying. You're blinking and trying to wipe away your tears, sniffling multiple times to collect yourself.

The man leans closer to you and his brows furrow, "Heyyy," He whispers softly, lifting a hand to your cheek, "I didn't mean to wake you-, shit, a-are you crying?" Choso asks, panicked.

You swallow and open your mouth but with the way your lips quivered, you end up shutting your mouth and simply shaking your head. Your bottom lip slips into your mouth as you try your best to bite back more tears.

You really thought he had abandoned you and now you're just embarrassed.

Scooting closer to you, Choso moves to cup your face in his hands and swipe his warm thumbs under your eyes, wiping your tears.

"What's wrong?" He whispers, his voice so soft and gentle with you that it basically adds to your sadness.

Choso feels the way more tears leave your eyes and he continues to wipe each one away. The man then leans closer to you, searching your eyes with his own, "C'mon baby, talk to me. Why're you crying?" He urges.

The way he's treating you right now is only making it worse, especially with the little nicknames.

"I..." You sniffle and try to collect yourself by batting your lashes. "U-Uhm..."

Choso tilts his head at you, awaiting your every word. He gives you only a few seconds before he figures that talking might be difficult for you right now. "Did you think I left you?" Choso asks, quickly putting two and two together.

You grit your teeth and nod before you start to tear up all over again.

Choso frowns and his hands move from your face. One goes to the back of your head to pull your face down into his chest and the other goes behind you, tugging your body close to his in a comforting hug.

The steady feeling of his hand running up and down your back makes the tension you feel begin to fade away. You cry into the man's hold, feeling yourself just melt into his arms. It feels like it's been forever since you've been comforted like this and it's like you were letting out all your emotions at once.

Choso holds you, rubbing the back of your head for a while before shifting so that he can talk into your ear. His voice is low but soft, "Shh, I'm right here... m'sorry for leaving you," He murmurs.

You sniffle heavily and lift your head slightly. "It's okay..." You sigh quietly, "I... S-Sorry for crying-"

"Stop that," Choso coos, "Stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault. I... I knew I should've left a note but I didn't think you'd wake up." He explains carefully.

You swallow and suck in a deep breath to calm yourself down. Your body is so flushed with emotions that tears keep dropping from your eyes.

Choso moves again, this time wrapping both of his arms around your waist and hugging you. Your head goes over his shoulder and you feel him turn his face to you.

The next thing you feel is Choso kissing your neck gently, "I left to go pick up some stuff..." His lips linger on your skin for a second before he barely pulls away, "I'm sorry."

"N-No, I shouldn't even be crying," You breathe out.

He kisses you again, beginning to trail up until he gets under your jaw. "It's okay, you probably thought I just abandoned you, right?" Choso wonders, voicing his concern in between kisses.

You nod a little, exposing more of your neck to him as your head rises. He continues to kiss your neck, slowly making you feel better.

"I'm sorry..." He sucks on your skin softly, his breath hitting you as he speaks, "...So sorry. I'd never do that to you, princess."

"Cho..." You whisper, slowly pulling yourself away from him.

He tugs you back and keeps you in place, "Don't move away from me, I need you to hear me," He whispers, leaning his face away from your neck and moving to look you in the eyes, "I'd never do that to you, understand?" Choso says seriously.

You swallow and nod your head.

"And I'm sorry." He apologizes yet again, "I should've left a note or a text."

"It's okay-"

"No, it's not." Choso cuts off, "You felt used, didn't you?"

Your eyes switch focus from his left to right eye, "Kinda..."

"Be honest," He says.

"Y-Yeah. I thought... I thought you got all you wanted from me." You voice out in a soft tone, evidence of your emotions present in the way you sound.

Choso scoffs, "You think sex is all I want from you?"

Those words make your heart convulse in an odd way.

The male narrows his eyes at you, "Have I not reassured you enough?" He asks.

You blink, "R-Reassured me?"

He grins briefly, "Sex isn't the only thing I want from you. I want a lot more than that, princess."

Shit, that might be worse than him abandoning you. You absolutely can not do a relationship right now.

"Choso, I-"

"I wasn't joking when I said you're my muse," Choso cuts off again, brown eyes filled with so much care and affection that it makes your stomach churn. He then inches his face closer and whispers, "You inspire me. Before I met you, no woman has ever made me feel the way you make me feel."

You swallow hard. Is he confessing to you right now? "Choso, I... Are you..." You trail off, unsure of what to ask him.

"No, I'm not confessing to you." He clarifies, clearly reading your mind. "My confession to you is going to be a lot more than this."

You blink excessively, "So, you plan on confessing to me?"

He shrugs cheekily, "Maybe."

"Choso." You say as sternly as you can.

"Yes baby?"

You freeze, "First off, stop that."

"Stop what?" Choso asks innocently, moving his hands to your face again.

"You know what." You huff as he wipes your tears away. "And secondly, are you really planning on confessing to me?"

His eyes are focused on removing the wetness from your face, "I don't know."

"Choso please-"

"Probably." He adds.

Again, your heart sinks a little. Yes, you want a relationship with him but not right now.

It takes you a second to respond and Choso continues to wipe your face off. With a deep breath, your voice is soft and small as you question him, "So you like me?"

"Of course I like you," Choso replies, clearly meaning it in a friendly way.

You roll your eyes at him. "I mean, so you have a crush on me?"

Choso looks at your lips for a moment and then grins, "I didn't say that."

"Well then what do you mean you might confess to me?" You ask eagerly. His lack of clarity is frustrating you, "Confess what to me?"

"You'll find out when I confess." He explains to you.

"Confess what??" You emphasize.

"I'm not telling you right now."

"Why?"

Choso lets out a sigh and retracts his hands from your face, "Cause' I don't need to."

You're bothered that he's not being clear with you. "What do you mean you don't need to??"

"The fact that I have something to confess to you should be enough reassurance." Choso finally gets out.

"Oh... So making me wonder what you want to confess to me is your form of reassurance?"

"Mhm. I wouldn't abandon you if I still had something to confess, right?"

"I mean, I guess not."

"C'mon Ms. Psychology major," Choso teases before leaning his face closer to you, "Shouldn't you be able to like, read my mind or something?"

You stare at him for a couple of seconds and then let out a chuckle, "That's not how psychology works, silly."

A pleased smile spreads across his handsome face as he hears your laughter. "Really? That's not how it works?" Choso utters playfully.

"No, I can't read minds." You tell him, his smile almost contagious with the way one appears on your face.

"Mmmmh, I don't believe you." Choso hums.

You scoff, "I just study the brain functionality and behavioral aspects of humans-- that's not reading minds."

He falls quiet for a second, just smiling at you with his eyes stuck on your lips. His mouth then moves as he licks his lips and then bites his lower one, lost in a sudden visual appreciation for your face.

Choso's voice gets lower, "Is it weird that I found what you just said attractive?"

There's a hot flash that goes through your face, "Y-You did??"

"Mhm." He hums, "Your intelligence is very... alluring."

"Alluring?" You echo, smiling. "How??"

"Cause' every time you talk about what you study," One of his hands goes to your face again, gently placing his thumb to your lips and outlining them with his nail. "Your face lights up. It's clear you like talking about it."

You shrug, "Yeah, I like talking about it sometimes..."

"All the time," Choso corrects.

"Who's the mind reader now?" You tease.

He chuckles and you watch the way his eyes glide up along your face, soon meeting your own. The man stares deeply into your irises, studying them for the millionth time.

It's odd but you think you love the way he does that. The way his eyes study different parts of you whenever he can draws you to him.

"So uh..." You swallow and look away from his gaze, focusing on the nearby plastic bag. "What'd you go get?"

Choso tilts his head in the direction you've looked into, trying to get you to focus on him again.

You continue to keep your sights elsewhere up until he leans his face closer to yours, his thumb still outlining parts of your lip.

"Look at me," He murmurs to you.

It's slow but, you do. When your eyes meet his, he grins.

"Ask your question again please, I didn't hear you the first time." Choso requests softly.

You blink, wondering why he needs this direct eye contact in order to have such a simple conversation. "I asked you what you left to go get." You repeat, nodding your chin toward the bag.

His brows raise slightly, "Oh, just a few things." He hums, removing his hand and just barely taking his eyes off of you as he turns to grab the bag and place it in between the two of you, "I originally went to my car to grab meds but the bottle was empty so I had to go to the store really quickly," He explains.

"So that's why you were gone for so long?" You ask.

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting the pharmacy to be so far from here..." Choso sighs gently.

You glance down at the bag, breaking eye contact, "Y'know I have a medicine cabinet... Whatever you went to go get, I'm sure I have it already-"

"Didn't wanna go through your stuff," Choso shrugs, "And plus, I also used being out as an excuse to uh... buy myself a change of clothes."

Your head tips to the side and you look up from the bag and to his face, "So you plan on spending the night?"

His eyes are already on yours as you gaze at him, "Of course." He claims confidently.

For some reason that makes you smile, "Of course? Why'd you say it like that?"

"How was I supposed to say it? Of course I'm spending the night after all that I did to you. I can't just leave you after that," Choso scoffs.

"Mmh." You hum, inching toward him with a smile, "Is that so?"

"Yes ma'am." He replies, returning a smile to you as you get closer to him. "Is that alright? Am I allowed to spend the night with you, princess?"

You shrug, "Yeah, I guess..."

"You guess?"

"Mhm."

Your face is roughly an inch away from his, your head tilted and your eyes low on his lips. Choso can tell you were leaning in for a kiss but he wants to tease you about it so he pulls himself back.

Your eyes widen at how he moves away from you and you pout, "Choso..."

"Ma'am?" He replies, his tone taunting.

"Why'd you pull away from me?" You question.

He smirks, "Why were you getting so close?"

"Cause' I wanted to kiss you. Now come back," You order.

Choso's smirk grows into another smile, "Aw, you wanted to kiss me?"

His teasing frustrates you so you sigh dramatically and roll your eyes at him, "Never mind now." You huff.

The man is simply infatuated with your reaction. "You gotta' ask for one, pretty girl." He tells you.

"Nope," You start to lay back down on your side, uncomfortably stretching your legs past the man as he remains seated over the blanket. "I don't want one anymore."

"Because you have to ask for it?" Choso chuckles.

"No, because you pulled away from me..." You mumble.

You're being dramatic but he seems to enjoy you acting in such a way.

"You're a big baby, y'know that?" Choso tells you with a sigh.

The bed moves around as he shifts, a heavier dip felt in the mattress behind you due to him turning and pressing his knee into the bed. One hand is placed in front of your body and the other is behind your back before you see him peering down at you.

Slowly, you lay on your back instead of your side and look directly up at him. A leg goes over your body and Choso holds himself up over you, his knees straddling your legs.

He slowly leans down to you and goes right past your face, moving his lips to your neck, "...You wanted a kiss, huh?" He whispers into you.

The man places soft kisses along the side of your neck and you smile, "Yeah, I did..."

"What kinda' kiss do you want, baby?" Choso murmurs, moving under your jaw and sucking the skin there, "A slow kiss?" He hushes out, "A rough one?"

The man lifts from your neck and his face hovers right over yours.

"A sloppy kiss?" Choso continues to question before just barely pressing his lips into yours.

You try to kiss him back but he slides a little and takes your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it carefully. He then pulls on it a little as he lifts away from your mouth, releasing your lip after a second and letting it fall back into place.

"Hm? Tell me, how do you want me to kiss you?" Choso asks you, lips brushing over your own as he speaks.

You lift your arms and wrap them around his neck, "Doesn't matter how... I just need your lips on mine."

He smirks, "Right. And who am I to deny you of your needs?"

With that, the sweet sensation of his lips pressing into your own finally occurs.

You've never felt so whole while kissing someone before. God, you can literally feel yourself falling for this man. And maybe it's only because of your predicament that you find yourself feeling so strongly for someone who treats you right but, you could care less.

Accepting your feelings for him is the sole thing you have to focus on.

After all, somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember... you still have to sleep with three other guys who you haven't even met yet.

But you can do this. You'll pull it all off with no problems.

...Right?

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

??? NAOYA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[webslingingslasher]

IM GLAD YOURE GOOD <333

also whilst we’re here. you know how girls get scary horny right before their periods? like i need to be tied to a tree like a wolf when im ab to get mine JDJDJDJ

peters never had a gf before trouble and the first time it happens he fr thinks he’s in HEAVEN. he doesn’t understand but she’s just on him 24/7 and he’s living for it. but also confused bc he can’t think of what he’s done differently to have u pouncing on him 24/7 but he’s not complaining djdjdnd

BOYFRIEND FRAT!PETER LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO

-i've literally had this done for like two months but i got scared and let it collect dust. not anymore bby!!!-

for the fourth time today, peter tilted his shoulder towards his face to sniff his shirt. it smells just fine, it's clean cotton. he didn't get a new fabric softener so it couldn't be that, and it's not like he got a new cologne or soap.

peter couldn't place it, but something about him lately has you absolutely feral. especially today, he almost had to peel you away from his skin so he could go to class.

'i missed you so much,' you moved quicker than peter's ever seen, his feet haven't even come to a stop on the pavement before you're kissing him.

it becomes more sensual than he's willing to provide in public.

'it was an hour, trouble. what'd you do, wait for me?' peter meant it in a teasing way, he didn't expect you to nod quickly. 'yes. you're about to open your instagram to thirty messages, i'm so sorry.'

your palms race over his arms, something about him seems ultra soft today. in the least joking way possible, he really does feel like boyfriend material. and he was all yours.

'did you know i love you? like, so much.' he did, but he still loves to have a reminder. 'i love you so much it's uncool.' you've got a glazed look in your eye.

peter knows that look and if he's being honest, he's done nothing to deserve it. the last two days you haven't been able to keep your hands off him.

is this what people mean by the honeymoon phase?

'i love you too, trouble. what's got you so mushy recently?'

puffed cheeks, no regard and absolutely no reason to hold back. 'i just really wanna fuck you.' peter takes a sharp breath, something about you being bold makes his knees weak. it must be his desire to please.

'i would, i really, really would...' with gentle scratches up and down the back of your arm, you know he's setting you up for a no. you whine and pout up at him.

'no! you're not allowed! just say yes, please say yes!'

it's literally tearing him up inside. 'baby, i'm already going to be late for my library session. i also have a chapter meeting tonight.'

'do you really-'

'yes.' there was no way he'd be budging on that one. peter made you know you were number one priority, frat responsibilities sat right under you.

if he was suggesting you'd have to wait until late, or worse, the next day, you'd die.

'what about after the library? before the meeting?'

peter's never seen you so persistent. he really doesn't know what he's done, but he won't complain one bit. he'll be a little crunched for time, but that's no reason to let you down.

'if we use your dorm, yes, i think we can make it work.'

peter’s forced to balance himself, you attacked him with a bear hug and nuzzled into his chest. ‘thank you, thank you, thank you! i’ll tell my roommate right now!’

seconds tick. he’s already late and you’re not moving, keeping him in your grasp while your thumbs fly across your phone to send out a message.

‘trouble, you’re making me late.’ because you’d be offended if he pushed you away.

a finger is held up, ramped texting takes priority. ‘trouble,’ the second you feel yourself pushed to the side you huff up at him. 'don't toss me off to the side like i'm some toy, i'm your girlfriend.'

'you're not a toy, you're just not listening, therefore making me late.'

your arms cross over your chest, 'fine. whatever, go.' peter is nowhere in the wrong, but you're making him feel like he is. if this was before, he could just walk away. but now, he has to pause and address your concerns.

he's still adjusting to boyfriend duties.

'don't get mad with me, i'm being very nice.' he is, he even let you gently bully him into getting him into your room in an hour and a half. you hold your stance, it takes a few seconds, but he catches on.

'you're not mad, you're pouty. don't be pouty, you're gonna see me in an hour.'

a toddler grumble, 'i'm gonna miss you too much.'

peter really doesn't know where the sudden desperation came from, he really needs to check in with you, but if he's any later, he's gonna piss off a whole room of people.

'i'll miss you too, trouble.' it appeases you enough, you finally allow him to pass. peter isn't able to go a full three steps until you tell him to wait, he realizes his mistake.

'sorry, c'mere.' three quick kisses, you make it hard to pull away. 'love you,' he allows you to sneak another kiss. 'love you too, petey.'

—-

one thing you loved about peter was that he was always on time, at least for you he was. just like he promised, he was at your door an hour and a half later with a hand on his stomach.

‘i’m missing dinner for this, i could be having a nice catered meal with the boys, but no, it wasn’t allowed.’

‘that’s very kind of you, handsome.’

‘i just needed to let you know, you know, in case i go lethargic or my stomach starts growling.’

‘as long as you don’t pass out on top of me, gerald’s game scared me.’ peter holds his fingers up in a scouts honor, ‘i promise.’ it’s all it takes, you reach for his shirt, clenching the fabric, you tug him in. shutting the door and slamming him against it, your lips on his in a minute.

peter’s mind is spinning, he’s never been pushed up against a wall. it feels nice, it’s a good feeling to know someone wants him so badly a tinge of aggression comes with it.

your kisses trail over his jawline, you’ve never been so desperately horny in your entire life, something about him has you dialed to ten recently. it could be the impending period, but that just feels like a fraction of the reason.

feeling slightly guilty you’ve ruined his meal plan, you pull back, just for a second to rip his shirt off. when his skin is shown, your hands race over it, he’s toned, and tanned, and down right delicious.

you scatter kisses over his chest, peering up at him. ‘are they saving you a plate?’ peter looks down, he’s lost at your words. you’re asking about plates while worshiping his body?

‘huh?’ a trail of wet marks across his collarbone.

‘dinner. are they saving you a plate?’

how do you expect him to answer while you nibble a bruise on the bottom of his neck? ‘i don’t…’ peter takes a sharp inhale, he never knew he had a sweet spot until you found it. it’s behind his ear, and he has to lean down, just slightly, but it’s so, so worth it.

‘i don’t know, probably not. guys don’t think about stuff like that.’

you pull away with a pop, raising your thumb to brush over the red mark. ‘hold on,’ you turn for your phone abandoned on your bed, on the walk over you take your own shirt off.

it’s a quick text and a quicker response, your guilty conscience cleared. ‘done. ethan said he’ll save you one.’

‘my hero.’

you jump to your bed, shimmying your pants off before sitting up on your knees, you get into position, shaking your hips at your boyfriend before arching slightly.

‘are we thinking doggy?’

peter’s still stuck to the door, ‘you wanna start with doggy? what happened to foreplay?’

you move to your back to tug your underwear off, you were only following his words. ‘you said we would be strapped for time, i’m making it easier.’

‘by blowing past the most important thing and having me jam it into you?’

you narrow your eyes at him, ‘once upon a time you didn’t care about foreplay.’

‘that’s old peter, he’s dead.’

‘let’s revive him.’

peter finally steps away from the door, he feels ten times warmer. his arms move around like he’s trying to clear the air, ‘alright, hold on, we need to talk.’

four words that are forced to put the night on pause, he could wait for a heart to heart after. ‘let’s not.’ you reach for his jeans, he steps out of reach. ‘peter! you were the one that said it would be a time crunch, i’m doing my best here, let’s go.’

‘not until you tell me why you’re so possessive lately. this whole week, you can’t get enough of me. what’s going on?’

peter’s starting to think you have some doubts running through your head and if you have enough of yourself to him he’d stick around. it’s a bogus idea but you’ve done it before to him, maybe it’s worse because there’s more to lose now with the title.

‘i’m horny.’ there wasn’t much else to add. he’s just made you wildly needy this entire week, but peter wasn't buying it. with crossed arms he waited until you really told him what was going on.

you groan, the quicker you explain, the quicker you get what you wanted. 'fine, what do you know about the menstrual cycle?'

'as little as possible.' while he's slightly more knowledgeable than most men his age, everything he's learned has been against his will.

'great. i just got off mine two weeks ago, i'm ovulating, aka, my body wants a baby real bad. not just any baby, your baby, that's why i'm so horny for you.' you hope it's enough to appease him, you shuffle around on the bed.

'fucking in this bed sucks.' there's little room for peter but you did what you could with the space you had. 'also, expect this monthly. cause, it's gonna be your problem now that you're my boyfriend.'

peter breathes deep, 'that has got to be... the best problem i've ever had in my entire life.' peter moves so quickly your head spins, he's on his knees in front of the bed while you're pulled to the edge.

kisses up the inside of your thigh has you pulling at his hair, 'peter, you're gonna be late.' you suck in hair as he nibbles on your skin. 'we don't have time for this.'

it pauses him, peter looks up into your eyes, a cocky smirk forms. 'my girl has a primal urge, and it's my job to take care of it.' 

[kneelingshadowsalome]

FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 3/4

König x F!Reader

Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire in an auxiliary unit, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Part 1 Part 2 Word count: 9.4 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: König takes liberties with his mouth. Dubcon is at its most dubcon in this chapter so please tread carefully <3 The actual smut happens in the next (and last) part. Long chapter because these two just can't behave!!

The days are getting warmer now. 

The sun warms the tent during the day, and the sound of birds searching for a mate threatens to drive you to madness. They sing during nighttime, too, and you miss the sturdy clay walls of your hut that blocked at least some of the sounds from outside. Now you are barely sheltered from wind and rain that beat the tent every now and then and can escape the swelling song of spring and lovesick birds to nowhere. König only snores with steady content as you mull over your strange fate there in his cozy bed, wondering how crazy it is that he never lets you go when he sleeps.

If König has an early council, you spend the morning eating breakfast in bed while studying odd parchments the translator gave you. The old man was quite insulted, not because you asked, but because you showed interest in the documents that, apparently, were of least importance to him. 

You don’t care that they’re “only” travel guides because they’re filled with Roman letters and numbers and usually illustrated with pictures of columns. You don’t understand a word they say and how those strange papers could ever be a travel guide to anyone, but you like to trace the letters and pictures with your finger. König clearly understood your fascination with them: he left you this morning with another smile, which told you he only thought you were simply adorable this way. He tried to tell you that the letters represent towns and the numbers tell the distances between those towns, but they still remain bizarre pieces of paper to you.

Men pass by occasionally; you can hear it from how their gears clonk and clatter and swish. You can hear the soft thump of sandals on the dirt, but you pay it no attention because you’ve always trusted that you are safe here. As long as you stay inside the tent, no one will touch you, even if they can currently see you because the flap is left open a wink. 

The only times his men witness you are when König takes you out for a walk in the woods so that you can take care of your bodily needs. Everyone can see that your hands are never tied, your face is never bruised, and your posture is still that of a proud, unbroken woman. And everyone looks at you with both hunger and wonder. Apparently, you are an even tempting spoil because you are not yet spoiled. 

The special treatment was rubbed in your face one time when you passed by a Roman soldier disciplining his slave, a woman who had shared your fate and clearly was having the worst of it. The other half of her face was unrecognizable, but the man kept beating her, and you stared in horror as whatever deed she had done to anger the man was now being punished far too cruelly. 

“Romans very dumb,” König said from next to you without even shedding a glance at the morbid scene. No one seemed to give a shit about what was happening to that poor woman, but you would never have expected such a comment to come from König’s mouth. When you asked him what he meant by that, he only shrugged and said: “That man piss on his luck.”

You wonder if the only reason why you haven’t been raped yet is because you are some sort of a lucky charm to him. The mere thought has the effect of making your blood boil, but some distant, tender voice inside you reminds you that König is not Roman. He does not share Roman customs, even if he fights with and for them. Perhaps slaves are treated differently in his land. Perhaps in there, it is considered an outrage and an insult to the gods to beat a woman, free or not.

Whatever his reasons are for not beating and raping you to death, it was a tremendous stroke of luck that König found you first. You dropped right there on his feet when he was victorious, so of course his men allowed him to take you as his: you were clearly a gift from the gods. But now that time has passed, you understand you are by no means safe if you wander outside this tent. König can protect you only when he is present or when you are safely tucked away in his own personal space. 

It’s a false feeling of safety, however, because you soon learn that out of sight is out of mind for these soldiers. Now that you are on display, sweetly and neatly on the bed, a tiny little wrinkle forming between your brows from studying the peculiar parchment, you are like fresh livestock on the marketplace, even inside the tent. You notice that someone else is in here with you only when you hear the sound of munching and turn. 

A relatively big soldier is standing in the doorway, eating an apple, watching you like he would rather have a bite out of you.

And you thank all the gods and stars above you, all the spirits and the Mother below you, that he doesn’t even get to take a step before a sword impales his chest.

König kills his own man so casually that all the thoughts of him falling to the gentle side of giants disappear instantly. He even twists the sword inside the broad man from daring to cast eyes on you. And you probably should feel bad for him… But you don’t. Not at all. The apple falls into the dirt and rolls away, but the man slumps into the threshold of the outside world and the safe womb of the tent, like an offering to guardian spirits - or to you.

You look up at König, eyes wide only because you are yet again speechless, but this time because of odd, bashful gratitude. 

“No touching,” he says without even blinking – it sounds like a stern explanation.

“No touching,” you agree with a whisper. König only nods, wipes his gladius clean on the dead soldier’s cloak, and carries the body into the woods.

…

You don’t know if he has lost some of the favour he enjoys among the Romans after killing one of their soldiers. You suspect he has not. Actually, you are sure his reputation only soared for it. He just showed everyone that his prize is not to be touched: you are not to be even looked upon. Romans probably respect such a thing.

A few wagons arrive one morning, carrying various supplies for the soldiers. There are many other items too, completely unrelated to warfare but all to do with pleasure and gambling and trade. You assume König gets to pick his favourites among the first soldiers, if not the first soldier, from the abundant cargo that arrived, because he brings his spoils to you with boyish excitement. There is close to nothing there for himself: only a thick, heavy cloak, made of dark wool with lush fur on the shoulders. It looks like something a northern king would wear, and you find yourself quite happy for him, but the other items he’s carrying are clearly all hand-picked just for you. 

There is a dress, a pair of sandals, a bone comb, some fruit and a large, round copper dish. It serves as a mirror as you change into the dress – a Roman one, dyed ocean blue – just to appease König and get him off your back. It hurts your heart to see how happy it makes him to see you accept his gifts. He holds the dim, uneven mirror in front of you when you get the dress on, and you’re feeling strangely meek: you’re not even sure if you have put it on properly. The bone comb is milk white and has two horses carved on it – it reminds you of the offering that was never made to appease the Great Mother because it couldn’t have prevented the Titan from coming to your lands. It’s another odd omen: black horses now turned to white, but an omen for what, you can’t say. 

And then… he kneels. 

König falls at your feet and starts putting the Roman sandals on, tying the strings around your calves so gently that it makes you feel like you’re made of clay. The sandals are not the kind he wears: they’re made for women, apparently, because they’re so skimpy and delicate. The strings reach the upper part of your calf, and when he’s done with you, happy to have now clothed you in Roman garb, he caresses your thigh and presses a kiss above your knee. 

And he looks up at you like you’re everything but his captive. He looks at you like you’re a queen. He stares at you like he’s the slave here.

“You like?”

The soft rumble catches you off guard, as does the fond caress he gives your leg. He doesn’t even try to move his hand upwards and under the dress; he just admires you from the ground, looking a bit foolish while crouched there at your feet. You swallow arduously and nod. What else are you supposed to do? 

He smiles with his eyes and gives you another kiss. He presses it on the sensitive part where your calf meets the inside of your knee. He even raises his hood to do it, and you finally feel his breath as his lips meet your skin, hot but tender. You fight the urge to shrink from him, and despite it only being a soft peck, a lover’s touch, the kiss leaves a burning sensation on your skin.

Then he tucks your dress down, like a slave who simply stole a little kiss from his mistress. You’re rendered weak and silent before such reverence, but then the playfulness returns as he raises one finger, as if telling you not to say a word because he just had an idea. You look at him with odd curiosity as he crawls on all fours and reaches for something underneath the bed. You panic a little, fearing he might notice that you’ve been there, too: rummaging through his things and throwing the pieces of jewellery back there without caring to ensure that they are placed back in the same position you found them in. But he doesn’t seem to care or notice.

He tries to offer you the golden pendant first, the one that has three discs on it. It’s a little too much, and you shake your head, fearing you will upset him by declining his gift. He tries to offer you a more delicate necklace next: full of cute, filigreed beads, but you shake your head again. He wishes to give you a trinket so badly that you finally raise your hand and graze your fingertips over a leather string holding a few chunks of amber. It also bears the claws of some animal: fox, perhaps. He looks very pleased with your choice and puts your new possession around your neck. You reach for the copper plate yourself this time and hold it up to see how you look in your odd Roman dress and your humble but powerful new necklace.

“Sehr schön,” König says behind you as you take in the wobbly image. He is so, so happy - you have never seen him quite so happy. It looks like he thought this to be the prettiest, most compelling piece of jewellery too; as if the gold and beads were simply currency for him, too. As if it was obvious that you would be interested in bones and sea gold instead of the gold of men. Then he pulls out something from under his tunic: another leather string that has a large hunk of bone hanging from it. He’s presenting it to you like he wants to show how you two are now very much alike.

“What is it…?” You ask, trying to determine whether the bone came from an elk or a deer.

“Bear cock,” he says proudly while dangling it in front of you like it’s the most natural thing in the world for a man to carry the penis bone of a bear around his neck. “Makes man strong in battle and bed.”

“I don’t think you need that,” you whisper while looking up at him. It’s your first joke to him, and he laughs. Heartily.

“Kleine Fee. You have only seen me fight.”

He puts it back under his tunic as if it’s his secret amulet now. You really don’t think he needs any more luck in war, or in any other… field. He seems like the kind of man who can pleasure women all day. It’s a bitter thought, somehow, and makes your heart feel heavy. You wonder how many women he has had already when you have refused to open your legs for him.

“We can try how good it works in bed,” he offers, as cheerfully as ever.

Oh. 

Oh… 

“I’m—I’m hungry. I think I need to eat something,” you summon an excuse out of thin air while raising your hands against his chest to keep him away. As if you could get your breakfast down after him saying things like that…

“Hungrig? I can feed you,” he suggests, still in the happiest of moods. Then he sweeps you off your feet and carries you to the table. He’s ever generous today: you get to sit on his lap as he starts to feed you grapes.

And you didn’t think he’d actually, veritably feed you. But that’s exactly what he does. You get an entire meal: ripe fruits, a thick handful of bread, a fine slice of fat, delicious cheese. Wine to wash it down, and then some more grapes. He holds them gently on your lips until you open your mouth a little so that he can push them onto your tongue. He watches with utter content how you eat everything he offers you. He even gives you a few bounces with his knee, and every now and then, he gropes your tits: just squeezes them and plays around with them while you eat.

It is quite evident that this man really, really likes your boobs. Perhaps that is why he carries the statue of Great Mother around… To your horror, you realize the piece of carved wood is not an idol of worship for this man, just a lewd image he probably digs up and looks at when he wants to stroke his cock.

Gods... This man is even worse than you thought.

You begin to pout again, and he draws you flush against him, seeing that he somehow managed to make you displeased. Unaware as to what could have caused this, he gives you another bounce and tries to find the reason for your sudden change of mood.

“Are you fed now?”

“Yes,” you mope even more as you realize you would very much like him to continue feeding you even if you’re full. To just… do that thing with the grapes again. Just a few more.

“Gut. We have to leave soon.”

“Why?”

He shrugs. “To fight.”

The camp is packed up in such haste that you find yourself under the sun in practically no time. You stay as close to König as possible without being glued to him, seeing that the new dress and hairstyle you made with the comb is high currency among the war-torn, lust-filled soldiers. Someone gives you a long whistle, which is followed by a few harsh comments you luckily don’t understand, but all the stares are cut off when König stops preparing his horse, rises to his full height, and wraps his fingers around the handle of his gladius.

You don’t get a single look after that, not even a sideways glance. Everyone acts like you don’t even exist.

The army moves at a slow pace at first, leaving a heavy dust cloud behind. It’s a fine day for travelling because there isn’t a single cloud in the sky. Everyone seems to be having a good time except for the slaves, and König is the only one who is vigilant, watching his surroundings at all times, head turning from side to side, hand never leaving his sword. 

You get a horse – his horse – and a lot of hateful stares from the other women, none of whom you have ever seen before. Captive girls from other villages, you presume, and they all hate you now because you get to ride a strong black stallion while they have to march in a dust cloud with their hands bound and their feet full of blisters. Their captors don’t give much thought to feeding or giving water to these poor women, mainly because they’re too busy laughing with each other and having hearty gulps from their wine sacks. You wonder if these men have ever fed these women a single grape during their campaign.

König, on the other hand, marches next to you like he’s your servant. He offers you his waterskin, his wineskin, too, and as the march goes on, an awkward knot starts to form inside your belly.

He’s behaving so oddly. You can’t find any other reason for his behaviour than that he simply has no full understanding of Roman customs because he comes from somewhere else. (Mountains, he said, when you asked him.)

You only now notice that he has servants but only uses them to pack or set up the tent. Other high-ranking officers and commanders have their servants with them at all times, tending to their every need. König is the only one who behaves like a foot soldier: he pours his own wine, gets his rations and supplies himself, lights his oil lamps without help and never lets anyone else touch his armour or swords. 

The servant he uses the most is the translator, a slave who’s clearly responsible for teaching König more and more of your words. He also serves as a mediator when König gets ready for another battle. You have naively wanted to forget the reason why these men are here in the first place, and as you see König putting on his full armour the next day, tying the swords on his waist and leaving to search for his shield, you feel like bursting into tears or a scream. You look away as he gets dressed, and refuse to give him a single kind look that morning. You stand with your hands crossed over your chest as he’s finally ready and fetches the old man to the tent again.

The Roman soon stands next to him as König takes a step and falls on one knee before you.

“He asks you to bless him,” the old translator says – weary and bored.

You stop breathing for a second and look at König, there at your feet again, head bowed, leaning on one elbow placed on a strong knee.

Bless him… For going to slaughter another clan? Give your blessing to him leaving people fatherless, childless and homeless? 

Is this some sort of a joke?

“Are my words… correct? Master asks that you give him your blessing for the upcoming battle.”

You bite your lip in frustration. You want to put your hand over this proud warrior’s head and send him away with words of might and fortune, but even the thought of wanting to do that is about to make you sick.

“I will do no such thing,” you say coldly and earn a sad, confused stare from König, who raises his head to look at you with a horrifying, pleading gaze. This man doesn’t beg for anything from anyone, and yet here he is, in his full armour, armed to the teeth and looking like the God of War again, asking for a kind word or two. You turn away, not because you deny him, but because you can’t stand to be under that defenceless gaze. The Roman sighs behind you, and from the clatter of König’s gear, you can hear that he has gotten up and is about to leave. 

You turn again, only to face his withdrawing back. Tense, and already beaten.

He grabs the satchel, the one that holds his Mother, but stops to look at it like it’s simply an ordinary object instead of a powerful entity. Then he places it back down on the table with a sigh. You look with horror as he leaves for war without taking his amulet, idol, fate, source of luck and joy – whatever the statue represents to this man – with him.

It doesn’t take long before you regret you didn’t give him your “blessing”. 

It somehow feels wrong that he left without it. You’re his captive, but he has fed you, clothed you, kept you warm. He has practically done no harm to you except hold you through the night and have a few gropes at your tits, which you haven’t found harmful at all… The least you could do to thank him is to lay a hand upon his head or sword before he left. Just a simple little gesture, not even a true blessing… Just a little something would have sufficed, to help him go into battle with a slightly lighter heart. 

Because as much as you loathe this man, you don’t actually want him dead. You don’t want him to march into battle and think you wish him ill. You don’t want König to get careless just for the sake of feeling miserable about the thought that his little slave girl despises him.

Because you don’t despise him.

You just don’t… like him. 

And he’s your captor still. Why should he deserve your blessing?

But the image of him cutting through his enemies with sorrow and bleakness in his stare, walking into a spear just because he’s had enough of life and more than enough of difficult, uncaring, ungrateful women, makes your heart bleed. He could’ve taken Mother with him since he didn’t get a good luck’s wish from you, but he chose to leave even Her behind. As if his faith had failed him, as if the few things and people he has ever placed his trust in have now abandoned him. 

The night rolls in, and the moon crosses the sky slowly, so slowly, as you wait for his return. The old Roman looks at you sideways every time you peek outside the flap and sigh. Your guard is a weak, old man, but you reckon that if you were to escape, the tired slave would simply follow you out of the camp and tell König which direction you have gone so that he can hunt you down when he returns. The few Romans left to guard the portable garrison would probably seize you and take you as their plaything before you managed to set a foot outside the vallus, and even if König came back to claim you, you could be a bloody heap by the time he returned.

And it’s not even caution keeping you inside the tent. You don’t actually think about fleeing at all. 

In the dead of night, you go to his satchel and pull out the statue of the Great Mother.

“Dear Mother... Great Mother. Please let him have his victory. Please let him come home unhurt. Even if he fails, please let there not be a scratch on him as he falls. Please, please, please…”

You improvise your prayer as you go, thinking about something to offer Her while being captive and not having access to most of the resources you would normally go to.

“I’ll give you my next moonblood. I will give you amber and fox claws…”

Your heart hurts, knowing you just promised the necklace König gave you as your sacrifice. But it’s a small gift for his safe return, and you renew your prayer, over and over again, while squeezing the Mother between your hands and pressing Her against your forehead.

You’re not sure if She can even hear you, because haven’t you wished this man dead not too long ago? You return the Mother to her satchel and pace around the tent, about to go mad. When the first horses arrive, you almost run outside to see if you can see or hear him coming. Soldiers march into the camp: there is so much din and racket outside that you know this is the least opportune moment to go outside and show yourself to the survivors who clearly have their morale and cocks up high from the recent battle. You wait and wait and wait, thinking about whether your god is among the wounded, being carried to some other tent where they treat injuries. You go and sit on the bed; you rise up and sit on the table. Then you go and press your ear to the fabric of the tent and try to listen like a fox. 

The flap is, blessedly, finally drawn aside, and you hurry to meet whoever has arrived. It’s König – of course – breathing heavy, looking slightly high-strung but primarily unscathed, and you forget yourself completely when running to him.

“Are you hurt!?”

He takes off his helmet and takes in a good breath of air, eyes melting into pure love when he sees you.

“Nein. Not a scratch.”

You swallow your relief – of course no one can get to this man. Your fears have been stupid and ridiculous. But in the deepest chasm of your heart, you thank the Mother three times. You promise to deliver her your sacrifice as soon as possible.

“You fear for me?” He asks, so excited again that you have to dig your nails into your palm so that you won’t go and clutch him and cry from joy. You don’t nod or shake your head; you only stare at him with what must look like a frightened deer stare.

Your giant comes to hug you so tight you can’t even breathe. Then he lifts you into the air, and there is nothing you can do - there is nothing you even want to do but to be there in his stout embrace. You’re so relieved that he is alive and unhurt that there are tears in your eyes, and he sees them, and smiles.

“Don’t worry, little Fee. Ich könnte dich niemals verlassen.” His voice is throaty and parched; apparently, he has shouted his throat raw on the field. 

You almost say you’re sorry that you didn’t give him your blessing, but seeing how pleased, triumphant, and gleeful he is causes you to shut your mouth and shut it tight. It’s enough that you have babbled prayers for him all night, praying your knees and tongue sore.

König returns you to the ground and leaves, only to return with ample loot. Two slaves carry in a small but heavy jute sack of coin, a tiny chest filled with honey, two bottles of scented oils, three gorgeous jugs of milk, a beautiful bronze sword, all laid there at your feet.

“Für dich,” he says, throwing a wide arc with his hand to gesture that all this is now yours. You watch all the stunning, lavish, extraordinary gifts, again picked with care just for you. You remember how there was not a single coin in this tent before you were dragged in, no bronze, no gold, no milk nor honey. No fine dresses, no stolen, scented oils. How many families did he have to kill to bring all these fine goods for you?

“I don’t want your loot,” you whisper on the brink of tears.

“What…do you want?” The smile in his eyes fades, and it stabs your heart full of pain. “More sea honey?”

“No, I–”

“Slaves?”

“No,” you step forward. If only you two could have met some other time, in some other place… “I just…I want my freedom.”

“What will you do with freedom…?” 

You finally get to see what König is like when he argues. He cannot understand your logic; he can’t understand what more he must do to satisfy you and make you happy. 

“Your chief is dead,” he says bluntly, causing your head to feel two times too small for your anger and pain. 

“You don’t have to remind me,” you blurt, equally bluntly. Because whose fault is that? This man is a thick-skulled, thick-cocked idiot.

“You have no husband. No village.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Why angry?”

“Because you are infuriating,” you almost shriek.

He looks at you, lost and confused, not knowing how to calm you down or make you pleased again. And it must be confusing: some gifts work, some don’t. Other times, you look at him lovely and sweet; other times you sulk and pout. You have luckily stopped your crying, but now you have suddenly decided to yell at him?

He approaches you after seemingly coming to the conclusion that you must want him to either pet or fuck you. He tries to raise his hands to touch you, but you push him away.

“Don’t you fucking dare grope me again!”

He withdraws quickly, now utterly nonplussed. If you don’t even want to be held, then what is he to do? This goes against all the laws of this world: he has arrived, triumphant and joyous from the battle, clearly favoured by all the gods, above and below, and favoured in full. The only one who doesn’t grant him a boon is you. His head tips to the side - it always does that when he’s curious or thinking hard. Then his eyes light up with understanding, and you know you’re about to hear more nonsense coming out of that oafish mouth.

“You don’t want me to fight?”

“I don’t…care what you do,” you scoff.

“Ah. You hate Romans?”

“Yes, I hate Romans. I wish they would all die. I hate their stupid battles and their stupid campaigns. And I hate you too,” your spirit rises with your words, your voice gaining volume and strength as you hurl all your frustration at him. 

And he’s shocked. Not at your first declaration, nor the second, not even the third. It’s the last sentence that clearly drives a dagger straight into his heart. 

He steps back, nearly toppling a milk jug as he pulls away from you. Then he mumbles something under his breath, something in his own crude language. The words are muffled by the mask as he scratches the back of his neck and leaves the tent without even taking his blood-stained armour off.

His name, the name that sounds so foreign to you, never leaves your mouth. But the following words do.

“Wait, I didn’t… I didn’t mean it.”

Not all of it.

He’s out of the tent by then, and you’re left with your beautiful gifts, your bitter sorrow and regret. You sigh and look up, hoping you could see the sky and whisper your inquiry into the night air. 

Why on earth did you two have to meet like this? Why does he have to be so thick-skulled and so… So him?

You calm your racing heart and start to organize the loot he brought you. You have never liked messy places and have done your best to keep this tent from getting cluttered. You taste some of the milk he brought you and inhale the sweet scent of those oils; you dip your little finger inside the honey jar and have a taste. The golden liquid tastes like the food of the gods when paired with milk. You put the blade on the table where König usually keeps his swords and settle to wait for him. 

And you have to wait for a long time, so long that you eventually withdraw to the bed, alone and with a heavy heart. When König finally returns, you can hear he has had a drink. More than one, too: he has probably drunk an entire jug of wine alone. He doffs his armour with curses and sighs, and lets it drop on the ground with a sloppy clang that makes you jolt under the furs. He eats something very noisily while throwing his helmet somewhere to the ground too, burps loudly, and sighs again: so deeply that it makes your heart burn. After getting rid of the tunic and his sandals – an operation that takes him more than a while – he crawls on the bed with a heavy breath. Your heart is at your throat as the stench of wine hits you, and his hands are clumsy and stern when he comes under the same fur and reaches for you.

“König—”

Your whisper ends abruptly as you are pulled against a familiar, broad chest. He growls at you for being awake – or at himself for waking you up with a drunken racket.

“I don’t… I didn’t…” you start weakly and have to clear your throat as he huffs against your neck, listening to what you are trying to say. 

“I don’t hate you,” you finally whisper.

He grumbles against your back and buries his masked face in your neck. The arm around your middle tightens and tightens, and you hurry to praise his gifts.

“The honey is delicious. And the oils are–”

"Fee… Du machst mich verrückt."

He speaks through gritted teeth while panting laboriously in your hair. You're relieved to hear sorrow instead of anger in his voice, but it’s his body that makes you arch your back and guide your bottom to meet his crotch.

The biggest mistake you’ve ever done, surely, because the whole body behind you grows taut. He gives you a tight roll of his hips, pushing his cock against you with immediate fervour. His balls meet your bottom, tight and heavy: you have gone to bed in your ridiculous Roman dress because you were feeling cold, but you can still feel them. You can feel all of him.

“König… We–We need to sleep…”

You sound like a bitch in heat, not at all like a woman who wants to stop wherever this heated cuddle is spiralling into. König is letting out noises you didn’t even know a man could make, and it makes your cunt wetter than ever before: tight and throbbing and embarrassingly needy. You try to remind yourself that this is not the proper time or way, that you don’t want it to happen like this: with the smell of wine and blood and dirt and sweat surrounding you, with him soon thrusting that cock between your thighs and shooting his seed on the bed before he can even get it in. You don’t want him when he’s drunk, and you don’t want him when he’s clearly a bit angry with you still. You place a weak hand over his, the one currently wrapped around your middle like a bond. 

“Please, I mean it…” 

“Not the time for sleep, little one,” he rasps on your shoulder, mask dragged aside and mouth breathing hot against your skin. His voice is gentle but his body is not: it turns out he has only been waiting for the slightest little cue to have the permission to take you. Unfortunately for you, moaning and grinding your hips against him is more than just a cue.

“Göttin der Erde... Gib dich mir.” 

He grunts odd, boorish words on your shoulder, leaving you breathless with another tight roll of his hips. It feels like a spell or a chant, the way he speaks. You want nothing more than to give yourself to him, and fear that whatever tie has been knotted between you two, whatever shackle has bound your souls together, has also granted him the ability to hear your thoughts. He must’ve heard them, or then he must smell the change in the air, because he rolls you on your back and pushes a knee between your legs.

“Meine Königin... Ich werde dich sehr glücklich machen,” he mutters more incantations in your neck, broad thigh forcing your legs further apart. He doesn’t even need strength to coax them open: they drag up and aside by themselves. 

“Ah–Why can’t you talk like normal people…” 

You sigh your silly thoughts out into the night air, and your fierce giant turns his head a little, now right there next to your cheek.

"Normal? Was ist das…?"

Your lips draw into a quivering little smile – you just can’t help it. Him lying half on top of you, asking what the word ‘normal’ means while smelling like an entire wine house just burned down makes your lips and heart flutter. Your soft laugh makes him raise his head a little, drunken, half-lidded eyes now fixed on you.

“The opposite of you?” You offer innocently and try not to laugh, but it’s no use. You start to snicker, then giggle, and the way he growls only makes things worse. 

“You little–I will go crazy because of you,” he whispers, drunk as a heartbroken man can be. Your own heart seems to open with a flood.

“Then go crazy,” you whisper back. 

And gods… He takes your sigh as a permit to go absolutely berserk. He crawls on top of you and rips your dress apart from the middle with both hands, exposing your breasts to him and the cold night air. There's a weight in his gaze that turns your nipples hard; a gaze of promise, just before he descends.

He attacks you like a starving man, devours and licks and sucks your breasts until you shake and moan on the bed, until your hands come to cradle his head with greed.

“I will make you scream tonight,” he pants roughly on your tits – you can feel the words on your skin. You’re veritably afraid that this man will swallow you before he even gets to the main event, which is no doubt to satiate the need to fill you with potent seed. He doesn’t exactly caress you, no: he gobbles you like your body is an entire feast, the generous kisses almost turning into bites when he reaches your hips.

“No–no teeth, König,” you try to whimper, somewhere on the borderline of tension and lust.

"Fee... I promise I'll fuck you like king. I'll fuck you until you cry.”

Your head goes blank from his words; from terror and love and lust. There's no time to decipher whether you should be afraid, because he scoops up your thighs, grabs you like a wrestling partner, and draws you against his face.

“Wait—What are you–”

Your words are cut off as he drives his nose up your cunt and breathes in your musk like it's divine incense. It doesn’t matter that you’re still covered by the skimpy dress he just ripped to shreds: the fabric is so thin that he could be virtually sniffing you through sheer gossamer. 

There’s no escape now; he can feel how wet you are. He can practically taste it.

“König—”

You can't understand why he would want to push his face there, so you mewl and try to push him away – very weakly – but he’s immovable, glued to your scent down there, panting into your warm, wet cunt with harsh breaths and starved groans. You're lying there at his mercy, dress torn to pieces and breasts heaving, thighs spread as far as they can go.

It's futile to even try reason with a starved giant between your legs, a cunt-deprived warrior about to finally take what's his. You should've known better than to joke around and play with a man who could snap you in half – either with his hands or with his cock – and Mother was wrong: you're not smart at all, teasing a beast like this. A beast whose teeth are currently bared over your most vulnerable place protected only by a thin veil soaked with your wet. 

König lashes his tongue out and presses it flat against your dress, on your throbbing womanhood, and your words turn into an ample, lewd moan.

“A–ah…”

You fall weakly back on the bed, head spinning although you haven’t drunk a drop of wine. The broad body almost trembles there between your legs. 

“Ah… You want cock, ja? I can taste it,” he grunts, blunt as ever. The thought of that thing being bullied into you inch by thick inch makes your cunt clench tight. Gods, you want it, but it will never fit, never…

Unless he… Unless that's why he's down there, panting hot inside you, trying to coax you open with his mouth. Perhaps he's not that dumb after all...

“Please,” you beg for him to love you, taste you, take you, your pride melting into copper and gold, pooling somewhere down, down, down… 

“Don't worry,” he speaks straight to your cunt like a man intoxicated with something far better than wine. “I will give you cock. All night.”

He lifts the dress with his nose like a dog, nuzzles under your ruined attire like it's his shelter for the night, headed back towards his plump prize. There will soon be nothing between his mouth and your poor, throbbing cunt, aching to be licked and loved by a cruel giant. A giant who brings you milk and honey and grapes and gold in all its forms… 

But just when you have finally forgotten that beasts possess teeth, he sinks them into you. He sinks them into your inner thigh, waking you up from the dream with sharp, harrowing pain.

The fucking idiot actually bites you, hard.

“You fucking—Go to hell!”

You push him away in earnest now, using his shoulders to propel yourself away from him. His teeth threaten to pierce and tear skin because he's so reluctant to let go, and the horrors of the battlefield seep into your skin; the safe warmth of the womb turns into a suffocating darkness. 

Your kicks have enough power to make him rise from between your legs, and the clear-cut pain in his eyes makes you want to both hug and hit him. You do the latter and hurl your fists at him, not bothering to even try to hit a target or cause pain; you just want him to stop making you afraid. 

Of course, he takes your breathless state and lust-filled rage as a cue to leave – and he does precisely that, but not before he has struggled away from you and your fists in an overly dramatic manner. It would look funny in another situation, especially when he's as hard as ever, cock jutting high towards the sky just from having a little taste of your love. Drunken and slightly wobbly, he almost falls when he grabs the tunic from the earthen floor as if his tent is a site of execution where he will soon be stoned. 

At the mouth of the tent, he stops, throws his head back, and roars. The guttural, booming rage echoes towards the gods like a furious curse, and you’re quite sure that the entire camp is awake by now. Every soldier nearby must be dying of a scared heart, thinking that there are either bears or Gauls upon them.

You hold your arms against your chest and safeguard your soft belly as you take in all his fury and frustration, then watch him stagger into the night, head hanging heavy between slumped shoulders. You’re left breathing, afraid and alone in the darkness, thinking about what the hell just happened… And spend the next moments in shock. Soon enough, the cold and terror fades, melting into something more palatable. You're shivering and wet, but intact, at least on the outside.

And the oddest thing is that you find yourself missing him. You miss his presence, his body, you miss his dumbness and his jokes. You fucking miss him.

The man who almost raped you.

With his… mouth.

You curl inside the furs and try to get some sleep with a hammering heart, ending up thinking about him all night. You thought he was going to pound you with that ridiculously long cock all night – and wasn't that his threat, too? – but what you didn't expect was that the giant barbarian who rips people's throats open with his teeth would want to lick and lap you into submission. You never would have thought that König wanted to bury his face between your legs, and eagerly at that.

Perhaps you understood his silly words wrong in your half aroused, half scared state. What if he meant to make you scream and cry from pleasure, not pain?

The burning bruise on your thigh reminds you that you are probably wrong, but you still wake every now and then from a thin sleep, glancing around you in despair, only to see that he’s not there. You feel so hollow that you think for a moment whether König has left the camp entirely, whether he is wandering away, towards some other adventure, exhausted with you and the war and the Romans.

The most unbearable thought in your head is not that he has left you for his dogs, however. It’s the thought that has abandoned you. That he has finally had enough. Because you realize… König hasn’t gone anywhere. He simply left to have his fun with some other woman. Perhaps he’ll be back in the morning, but his patience is gone; it has finally ended, your silly little game. A difficult slave girl who won’t even let him lick her cunt is simply no amusement to him anymore. 

Just before dawn, your will breaks; it splits in half. You can almost hear it. The sound of cries is muffled in the bed that nowadays has both his scent and yours: both of your scents combined, mixing together into a wonderful haze of love and despair.

…

König comes back when the dawn is already turning into a full day.

He strolls into the tent the same way he left: with a hunched posture and unsteady feet, but the fervent vigour from last night is gone. Actually, you have never seen him so weak. The dramatic sighs, the groping and the bullying have turned into a piercing silence. His muscles have lost their strength, his head is hanging heavy between those once proud shoulders, and his eyes are cast down as if he’s hoping there wouldn’t be such a bright orb in the sky. He drags his feet as he enters the tent; he doesn’t even look your way when he goes and slumps in his chair.

You are so glad to see him that you nearly jump from the bed and fall right there at his feet. You want to kiss his thighs and grab his hands and look up at him, doting and adoring like a good little slave. You want to whimper and beg that he can give you love bites everywhere he wants.

Instead, you snap at him, voice filled with poison.

“Did you have fun raping women last night?”

There are leaves on his mask and dirt on his shins and knees. Even his hands are a little grungy, and the proud red Roman tunic could also use a wash. He sheds you a tired side stare, then sighs.

“Was?”

“Were you with women,” you spell out every word slowly like you’re talking to a child. The venom on your tongue threatens to spill out as froth. And you almost say, 'other women'. Almost.

König raises his head and looks at you with a slight tilt in his head. He’s curious again, so, so very curious. He has clearly fleed the sun into his tent rather than seek your gracious presence, which shouldn’t make you this glum... But what you just said has managed to brighten up his entire day.

“Meine Fee… She’s jealous,” he points out in a far more jovial tone.

“No. Not at all,” you hurry to say, chin drawing back from his stupid accusations. 

“You are,” he says with unbridled fascination. 

“I assure you I’m not.”

Your cheeks are heating up, and the nervousness inside your belly roils like a snake. How does he always manage to get you into a trap? 

König leans back in his chair, now with his usual dignity on those shoulders. He even crosses his fingers loosely in his lap, looking like the conversation he’s about to have with you will, yet again, become another favourite of his. You’re not sure why you always feel like you’re being interrogated on the sly with him because König is the most simple, straightforward, blunt object of a man you have ever met. And still…

“Fucking other women is bad?” He asks innocently from that chair.

“Bad?” You huff. “Yes, if you have to force women under you, you are a brute.”

“And… ugly?”

“Very ugly. The ugliest man in the world.”

"Hm. But who say anything about forcing?"

König looks at you, calmly, as your stomach sinks from his words.

You can only stare at him as the world seems to fall apart around you, crumble into nothingness when there's sun shining and birds singing outside. Kicking him out of the tent – and almost kicking him in the face in the process – because you got afraid when he gave you a fervent little nib seems like the stupidest idea right now. If you were so willing to part your legs for him and moan under his tongue, surely some other insane woman would want to do that as well? Surely there is at least one woman in this camp who would gladly be pleased by this giant who doesn't hit or force women. Who only likes to… bite and squeeze and lick them.

You pout at him, lip almost trembling now, and he’s smiling, so, so very wide behind that mask. Gods damn him. 

Then he rises and walks to you, suddenly looking like he isn’t suffering from a hangover after all. He strolls towards you with slow purpose, and you swallow the tears down, trying not to show him how they turn into ice inside your stomach. 

“I have not touched women. Only you.”

He towers above you, looking down at you like you are indeed the most adorable thing in the entire world. You are not sure whether his words are to be believed, but something inside you says that this man never lies. As dense and dumb as he is, he is the most trustworthy human being you will ever meet.

“Only sleep with earth last night,” he says and starts to caress your hair. He even weighs some of it in his hand before sweeping it over your shoulder. Like you are simply his precious, silly little wife who has been spoiled too much.

“It was a cold mistress,” he laments, overly dramatic again, like a poor actor in a tragic play. Your heart aches, badly – you swear König is the most annoying man you have ever met, the most insufferable and lovable. You wonder if he has spent his seed on the cold, hard ground too. Given it to the Great Mother, who is a cold lover sometimes indeed… But not as cold as you.

You wonder how crazy it is that you have the power to drive this giant into the cold night from his own tent. König has had to face his hangover by waking up to a chilly dawn. His hand is not as warm as usual, and you start to worry that he has caught the wrath of wind spirits outside, soon rendering him weak and feverish. His skin is not supposed to feel this cold, not when he’s almost always blazing.

“I know a plant that might help,” you say diplomatically. “With your… Head.”

He looks at you, more and more curious by every passing moment. You hope he doesn’t weigh in his mind whether you are trying to poison him when he is weak. But he’s not that clever, perhaps, because he only looks at you like you’re an entire sun now, and very unlike the one that is giving him a headache today. You turn away from his hand – but not too quickly. You’re only feeling shy. And a bit uncomfortable.

“You should eat something. And drink water, not wine.”

“You care about my head?”

Gods… His voice is so, so soft. He’s seeing past all your defences again, and there is nothing you can do about it. You want to curse him but can’t. You simply can’t. 

“Just… Eat some fruit, alright? And I need a kettle so that I can boil some water for the herbs.”

You rise from the bed and try to ignore his adoring stare. He doesn’t attempt to touch you again; he merely watches as you go about and eat a little something as if to show that when it is morning, people should have breakfast. Like you’re a mother trying to lead by example or a fussing young wife who is trying to help his husband. Your lips are a thin line as you search for grapes that aren’t too soft and a piece of bread that doesn’t yet have mould in it. You grab some figs: you know they are his favorite, and bring them to him to tell him you’re serious about him needing to eat.

And you feel silly. 

You can’t even look at him. You’re feeling so odd, so weak, so warm inside, and it’s not because you’re disgusted; hell, it’s the opposite of being disgusted….

“I have fallen in love with you,” König says as he accepts your humble offering of food. You freeze in the middle of setting them on his palms, held upwards as if content with whatever you give him, even if it’s only a piece of bread and a few figs. 

Gods. Mother… Don’t do this to me–

“That how you say it?”

You breathe in and out, calm, collected – you're not going to faint because some crazy giant thinks he's in love. Yes, that’s it… Everything’s alright. He’s just being silly again. He’s just playing his own little plays again. 

But when you look at him, there is no actor there, no silly play: he’s just… König. He returns your helpless, cornered stare with warm kindness, reminding you of something, of some Roman or Greek god… Apollo. Yes, that’s it. Laureled sun god Apollo, the one everyone loves so dearly, because he always drives fear and doubt and darkness away. He’s Apollo, even though he doesn’t even prefer a bow. 

And has the translator taught König the correct words? Has he memorized them so that he can say them to you when the time is right? Your lip starts to tremble, and you fight to not shudder a sigh. The old seer was wrong: this man will be your downfall.

“I’ll go get that plant,” you whisper, soft eyes wide and chest curled tight. 

“Nein,” he says cheerfully, full of life and hope again. “Not alone, little one.”

…

A/N: Please don't send me death threats. Remember, big bang bang next chapter! Huge!!

Translations:

Sehr schön - Very beautiful

Kleine Fee - Little fairy

Hungrig? - Hungry?

Ich könnte dich niemals verlassen - I could never leave you

Für dich - For you

Du machst mich verrückt - You drive me crazy

Göttin der Erde… Gib dich mir - Goddess of the Earth… Give yourself to me

Meine Königin... Ich werde dich sehr glücklich machen - My Queen... I will make you very happy

Was ist das? - What is that?

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite

Chapter 1

It's here! This is the first chapter of my first real fic here on tumblr! I am not the best writer so please be kind :')

Series masterlist

Alternate Universe SKZ!

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

Previous - Next

Summary: There's no turning back now, not when you know what you left behind. A dangerous situation now replaced with another. After the omegas disappeared you have to extra careful, especially now that you have left your pack and family.  What happens when your car breaks down on another pack's land?

Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, fluff, angst, virgin!reader, cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 

Chapter warnings: Angst, anxiety, reader is VERY sad, minor violence, cursing, A/B/O (pls let me know if I missed any!)

MDNI 18+

Wc: 2400 ish

Disclaimer: The names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters were designed after. The views and actions of these characters do not reflect the real Stray Kids in any way shape or form. This is all for fun let’s keep it that way please. 

You should have known better. All those hushed conversations your parents have been having, all the phone calls your father excused himself to take, even the trip to your packs doctor for a very extensive physical. None of it set off your mental alarm bells and that made you feel so stupid. But how could you have known that your own parents, the people who raised you and were supposed to have your best interest at heart, were planning on selling you off to the highest bidder once you became mature enough. 

That's life for omegas these days, though. After a worldwide virus a few decades ago, omegas just stopped being born. The virus wiped the gene out almost completely, leaving a very small percentage of omegas left. Unluckily for you, you happened to be the only omega born in your area in the last 40 years. That made you highly sought after by alphas, especially dangerous ones. 

Your hands were still shaking. It had been hours since you escaped your parents house in your car, yet you couldn't get your hands to stop shaking with the immense adrenaline you’re feeling. You had no plan, no money, nowhere to go and no one to help you. Your only friend, Ash, was a beta girl in your pack and as much as you liked her you knew she could do nothing to save you now. At least your car had a full tank of gas, the only good thing your father had done for you was allow you to drive to Ash's house on occasion.

All the adrenaline was starting to wear off as you drove, the realization of what this would mean for you and your life now starting to sink in. The constant looking over your shoulder, the uneasiness you will always feel, it was almost too much to handle. No. What would have been too much to handle is letting that filthy man get his hands on you. Kim Hongjoong.You had heard about the things that alpha had done to claim power over his pack. From sabotage to murder, none of it was good. From what you could gather he was on the search for an omega to complete his pack and somehow had heard whispers about you. The only known omega within a few hundred miles. He wanted an omega to raise his children and help him lead his pack and would do anything to get his hands on one; whatever necessary. 

You imagine the sum of money he offered your parents was just too good for them to pass up on. Your alpha father was too proud to accept anything less than a hefty amount. Your mother was an omega through and through. Obedient and submissive to her alpha. Just as she raised you to be. She herself was a rare omega. Though back in her day the omega population wasn't as low as it is now. Now the numbers have fallen to less than 0.2%. Your mother molded you into the perfect little doll. Almost. Never in your wildest dreams did she or your father imagine you, their doll, would be disobeying and running from all you had ever known, yet here you are. That's what real fear does to a person. Fight or flight. All your life you had been all bark and no bite. Now this is your way of biting back.

All you had to your name was this old car (technically your fathers), an old backpack with a few changes of clothes, and couple cans of spaghetti o’s. Luckily this car had an old map in the glovebox. Better than nothing especially since you had no gps and no phone. You knew better than to take the main roads. Your pack would undoubtedly be looking for you and the car. Back roads it was then.

You couldn't tell exactly how many hours you had been driving at this point, too caught up in your mind to really pay attention to the time but by now it had gotten very dark and you found yourself on this old road going through a small town in the woods. You vaguely remember passing through the small community about half an hour ago. Of course you hadn't stopped in the town in fear of being noticed or recognised somehow. But now you’re wishing you had stopped at that little gas station and at least tried to get an ounce of gas with the spare change left in the middle console. The car was officially running out of gas. In the middle of nowhere. Just your luck. 

 “Are you serious?” You asked no one with tears starting to fill your eyes.

Feeling the difference in the vehicle causes you to pull off to the side of the road with a groan. You know it won't be going any further with the way it just gives up there on the side. Turning off the car and leaning your head against the wheel you let out a light sob. This wasn't the life you had envisioned for yourself. Once upon a time you thought one day you would meet your true mate, a caring alpha who would love you for you and want to make you happy. Seems as though that was just a fairytale after all. Even your parents weren’t true mates. They just settled for each other. You knew you couldn’t let that be you. You wouldn’t settle, especially not for a vile man you didn't love. 

It was too late now to leave the car. This is where you will be staying for the night. Good thing it was late spring and not winter or you would freeze out here. Once your tears have slowed and the sobs have ceased you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“You will be ok.” You repeat to yourself a few times. “You will be ok. You will be ok.” 

Will you though? It didn't matter. You had to be. With one last sigh you locked the doors and climbed into the backseat of the old car. Its seats were worn and uncomfortable but it somehow felt comforting. It felt like the last remaining bit you had from childhood. When things were simple for you. Were things ever that simple as you remembered it being though? Before presenting as an omega when you were 16 things were definitely simple. You had assumed along with everyone else that you would be a beta and go on to have a normal life. Sure sometimes you were a little agreeable and always had a gentle nature, but you had just thought you took after your mom in that aspect. Little did you know you would take after her in a different way. It wasn’t until you presented that it made sense to the pack why you were that way. It was then that the looks began from other pack members. The way their eyes would linger on you a little too hard. The way their nostrils would flare when you entered a room. It made your skin crawl thinking back.

From that point on there was no more public school for you. You were homeschooled the last few years of high school for your protection. “We're doing this to protect you not punish you, Y/N.” your father had said when he forbade you from going back to school. “You can't trust anyone these days. Not around an omega.” He was right. The thought never crossed your mind that you couldn't even trust your own parents. You wished you had been born a beta like your sister, or even an alpha like your brother. Being the youngest out of three you figured you would be like them. 

The worst part was you didn't have the suppressants you had been taking since you were a teen. They were almost impossible to come by normally, but your father had somehow gotten his hands on a steady supply and had been forcing you to take them. Another thing that was for your protection. To keep alphas from detecting you by scent. You hadn't taken any this morning before you left so you imagine your scent was going to start leaking out for any one nearby to smell. Great. Another problem for tomorrow.

Adjusting yourself on the seat to lay down as much as you could, you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. It wouldn't be long before sleep overcame you. The exhaustion of the whole ordeal catching up with you. 

__________________________________________________________

The sun peaking through the trees awoke you from your surprisingly restful slumber. It seemed to be early morning if the dew on the windows was any indication. Peeking out the window you saw nothing around. Not even any animals. Perfect. You slowly unlocked the door and crept out quietly shutting the door behind you. Taking careful steps a few yards into the thickets ahead of you and relieving yourself helped you feel a little better. You made your way back to the car and took a second to breathe. In and out. In and out. The air was crisp and refreshing and helped you clear your head. 

Now feeling a little better you noticed how bad your stomach was growling at you. Reaching into the trunk of the car you pulled out a small can of spaghetti o’s. Not your first choice of a meal but when you panic you grab what you figure will be easiest to take with you. Plus you could use a can as a weapon if needed! 

Eating was the last thing on your mind yesterday, but now you knew you could no longer put it off. Popping a can open and taking a seat on the hood of the car with a spoon you dug into the food. It was….. food . Cold and disappointing but at the same time satisfying as you had an empty stomach. 

There you were, sitting there on the old car contemplating your next move from here with now a half full can of disappointment, when you catch a scent in the air getting stronger with each passing second. It was another person, no it was people. More than one. 

Fuck

You have been found. Whether by the packs that were after you or by a stranger it didn’t matter all you felt was terror. 

There was no time to flee. Before you could even move from the hood you could feel a pair of eyes on you to the right of you. You twist your head to face the eyes that are peaking out at you from the trees ahead. 

The stranger takes a tentative step towards you and comes out from hiding and you immediately go into fight or flight. 

     With an alarmed shout “NO”, you launched the half full can of spaghetti o’s at the intruder, hitting him square in the chest and sending the cold contents all across his shirt. 

“What the fuck?!” the possible assailant yelled. 

Spotting another figure approaching the first one you threw yourself back off the hood and onto the ground, then as quickly as possible you yanked the door open to the car and jammed yourself in locking it immediately. You made yourself as small as possible as to not be seen by them but you knew the damage had been done. There was no way out of this. No gas in the tank and even if there was you had no idea where your keys had gone.  

You could hear them talking but you were too frightened to pick up any of the words except girl, mess and Alpha. Now you really felt terror. Without realizing how close they had been to you, you let out a shriek when there was a sudden knock on the window next to you. 

Not daring to look at them for even a second you yelled through the glass “Please go away! Please please I don’t deserve this!” tears filled your eyes. 

__________________________________________________________

The smell of your distress was making Seungmins and Jeongins eyes water. They had never experienced such a powerful scent before. Not even the odor from the Spaghetti Os covering Seungmins shirt would distract from the one coming from within the vehicle. The beta wanted to be mad that she had pretty much assaulted him, but at the same time couldn’t find it within himself to care much given how much pure terror he smelled coming from the young woman. The omega.  

The young alpha Jeongin felt similarly now that he had eyes on her he felt this overwhelming urge to protect. He had never encountered one before and honestly thought he never would but now that he was laying eyes on her he felt his alpha side perk up. A part of him never wanted to stop looking at her.

Honestly the boys didn’t know what to expect when they came out here to investigate the scent that had appeared on their land late into the night. They truly didn’t expect the cause to be an omega girl that was holed up on the side of a path. 

Seungmin tried knocking again, a little more timid this time so as not to frighten her more. “Excuse me, we could smell your distress. Do you need any help?” He asked slowly. 

You spared him one quick glance then shrunk into yourself again. “No thank you, please go!” 

He sighed and stepped back a few feet to look at Jeongin in amazement at the situation.  Giving him one small nod he said “ We need to call Chan.” 

__________________________________________________________

What felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, passed and you stayed in your same position. The boys had remained there but not so close to the car anymore to which you were thankful. They were quietly mumbling amongst themselves, no doubt about an omega being caught out here alone. Every so often you would move your head just slightly to peer over at them. You hadn’t noticed before in your initial panic but they were pretty cute young men. A beta and an alpha from what you could tell. Even covered in your thrown breakfast (a shame about that really) they still managed to carry themselves proudly. Though your smell is causing their faces to scrunch up, you could tell it was taking it's toll on them.

Not even a moment later after taking another look at them you could feel the change in the air as another pair of people was approaching. Not just anybody was coming this way, it was an Alpha. A very strong one at that. The smell was starting to permeate all of your senses and was quickly becoming intoxicating. 

You could sense him before he even appeared. No matter how intrigued you may be though you can’t show weakness.

 ‘Keep your head down and wait it out’ you kept telling yourself like a mantra.  

You knew he was approaching your door. It took everything in you to remain still. Then as if struck by lightning you felt your body alight like it never has before. 

“Omega..” 

(A/N: Please do not steal my writing and content! Reblogs and comments are encouraged tho 😙once again i would LOVE to hear your thoughts and theories! This has not been beta read all mistakes are my own.)

©doitforbangchan 

TAGLIST

@ihrtlix @realrintaro @meowmeeps

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part VIII

Welcome back to part 8 of Fall For Me! A strange dream, reader goes to camp, and more sweet moments with the eepy Bois this chapter! Thank you so much for reading, if you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list please let me know!

WARNINGS: Brief mention on hunting practices NOT PROOFREAD

Part VII - Part IX

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link! ~ Tip Jar!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up your head felt like it was in a fog, the edges of your vision slightly blurry as you looked around the room. Your bare feet dropped to the floor, you shivered as you stood from your bed, it was a lot colder in here than you remember it being. You paused at your doorway, something wasn't right. Despite the fact you had crossed the entire expanse of your bedroom there wasn't a single creaking floorboard or footstep to be heard. You look back at your bed only to find your body still laying there. “What the hell?” You mutter softly to yourself. You walk over to your still sleeping form, your shoulders rising and falling with every even breath as you lie motionless beneath the covers.

“Don't worry, you'll be able to re enter your body when we're done here.” You jumped at the sudden voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Its tone is both a whisper and a deafening howl, the sound high pitched and somehow also impossibly low.

“God?” You ask with a confused expression.

The voice laughs, “I guess you could say that.” The silence that surrounded you was deafening as the voice faded out, it was so quiet you could hear your blood rushing in your ears, no ambient sound existed in whatever plane you had been snatched into. “Trust in Vessel, he’ll show you the way.”

You shot up in bed with a sharp gasp, your lungs burning like you had been holding your breath. Your alarm was blaring on your night stand, 8 in the morning, you had an hour until you opened. You got out of bed, listening carefully for the sound of your footsteps against the floor to make sure you really had returned from wherever the hell you had gone in your dreams. “I'm going crazy, I'm actually losing my mind.” You argue with your reflection in the mirror. “Some mysterious voice coming from my subconscious about trusting Vessel, of course I trust him. But what the hell is the way he's supposed to be showing me?” You decided to drop it for now with an annoyed groan, flying through your morning routine and jogging downstairs just as 9 o'clock rolled around. The day flew by, the steady stream of customers helping to distract you from the weird dream you had. You were just about to lock the door when the all too familiar pickup truck pulled into the lot. You smiled, pushing the door open and leaning against it as you waited to see just who had stopped by to visit tonight. You were a bit surprised to see II jump out of the cab unaccompanied, usually when he was sent to make supply runs he always had one of the others in tow. He strides over to you, reaching out to pull you into an embrace the moment you were close enough.

“I have a question for you.” He states softly once he pulls back, his hands still resting comfortably on your waist.

“And what might that be?” You smile, subconsciously leaning into him.

“Would you be comfortable coming back to camp with me?” You paused the moment the question fell from his lips. “Vessel already knows I'm inviting you, he's the one that brought it up in fact.” II chuckles, knowing exactly where your mind had wandered.

“I would love to.” He waits patiently for you to lock up, his hand slipping into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you chat idly on your way back to the truck. You slid across the worn leather bench seat, II hopping behind the wheel not long after. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaning in to press a clothed kiss to your cheek.

“Are you warm enough?” You nod, letting your head fall to rest against his shoulder as he starts driving. His thumb languidly trailed back and forth across your shoulder, every so often he would glance down at you to see if you were still awake. You wound down endless back roads, slowly pushing your way down paths that had long since been forgotten until the group had ventured this far out into the woods. II attempted to dodge raised roots and potholes without much success, the makeshift road being filled with craters that rattled the pair of you around in the cab. You were thankful when the dirt path finally smoothed out, the trees opening up to reveal a large clearing with four cabins evenly spaced out around the circle. You recognized minimal details of it from the pictures you had seen in the paper. The cabin opposite the entrance was surrounded by flower beds of various sizes and states of growth, some containing a painter's palette of wildflowers, others filled with various crops that seemed to be growing very successfully. “That's IV’s cabin.” II must've noticed your impressed stare. “I will warn you though, if you compliment him on his gardening it will make him really flustered, so do with that information what you will.” He chuckles.

“Do you all have different jobs?” You ask curiously, II nods his confirmation.

“IV is the main one in charge of produce. III’s a fairly decent hunter, that's where we get the majority of the meat we eat. I’m in charge of the finances.” He lists off everyone's role around the camp. “And Vessel… well he's our spiritual advisor for a lack of a better term.” He chuckles. He pulls the truck up alongside a cabin that was more set back from the rest, it's dark wood almost blending in with the treeline.  “He’s in the middle of something, I'll take you to IV.” He smiles at you. He motions for you to wait, jogging around the front of the truck to open your door for you. He bows his head slightly as he offers his hand, you can't help but laugh softly at his actions.

“What a gentleman.” You grin at him.

“For you, only the best.” He winks. Your hand slips into his, his skin cool against yours. His eyes stay locked on your form as you hop down from the truck, the moment your feet hit the ground he's tugging you into his side, wanting to keep you as close as possible. “I'd like to be able to spend some time alone with you later, if that's alright.” The corners of your mouth quirk up in a smile at the slight nervousness you picked up in his voice. You glance up at him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before pushing yourself up to place a kiss to his cheek.

“I'd love to.” You whisper in his ear with a coy smile. Your attention was stolen by IV calling your name from across the clearing. II places a hand against the small of your back, gently nudging you in his direction. You meet him in the middle, giggling as he flings his arms around you and spins you in a hug.

“I missed you.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles, you found your cheeks growing warmth at the genuine joy in his voice.

“You did?” You ask softly.

“Yeah.” Goosebumps rise on your skin as you feel him gently knead at the softness of your waist. His eyes nervously dart from yours, tracing over a pattern he had found in the grass as he sucks in a deep breath. “I, um, I didn't get to say everything I wanted to you the other day.” You waited patiently for him to continue, seeing how nervous he was about choosing exactly the right words was honestly endearing in your eyes. “Do you think we could sit down and talk?”

“Of course we can, wherever you like.” You smile softly at him. He hesitantly removed his hand from your waist, carefully taking your hand and studying your reaction to make sure he wasn't doing too much too quickly. He led you to his cabin, shutting the door behind him and watching you with delight as you looked around curiously at all the small knick knacks and trinkets he had littered around the small space. His heart races when his eyes meet yours, he would never get tired of seeing the way your whole face lit up when you smiled.

“I want you to know that I really like you.” He blurts out, unable to stop the confession from coming out. “I might not be as experienced as the others, and I might take things slowly, but that's just because I don't want to mess this up.” His bright blue eyes scan over your features as he waits for you to respond.

“IV, I'm not worried about moving too slow or too fast, or whether or not you're experienced. I think you're very sweet, handsome, fun,” every compliment was punctuated with you taking another step closer to him. “I like you too, I want to see where things go, and I'm very excited to see how we get there.” He breathes out a relieved chuckle.

“I just don't want you to think that I'm not as interested as the others.” His arms slide around your waist, your instinctually slipping over his shoulders as he pulls you into him. His fingers ghost over your cheek, you lean into his touch, allowing him to carefully cradle your face in his hand. “You're so beautiful, every moment I've gotten to spend with you has been nothing short of amazing.” Your cheeks grow warm as he continues his assault of compliments. He seemed relieved to have gotten that off his chest, the usual playful glimmer returning to his expression.

“Well, I look forward to spending more time with you.” His gaze dropped to your lips for a moment before he hesitantly pulled away. He clears his throat, his eyes trailing to the window.

“Did you get to see the garden at all?” He asks, a slight nervous tremor in his voice.

“A little, but I'd love to see it up close. You have a very impressive green thumb IV.” He taps the toe of his boot against the cabin floor.

“It's nothing special.” He rebuttals bashfully. “But, it's definitely a lot better than what we started out with.” He starts to head towards the door, your hand slipping effortlessly into his as you trailed after him. He brought you to the edge of the flowerbeds, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to keep you close to his side as he pointed to all the various different types of produce and flowers he was growing, slipping in small fun facts every so often.

“I don't know how you can say this isn't anything special IV, this is incredible. You've really done an amazing job.” He froze, swallowing thickly as he looked down at you.

“Thank you, love.” He says softly. A soft smile finds its way to your lips as you watch his eyes slowly trace over your features. “Can I take you on a date sometime?” You can't help but giggle at the question.

“I would love that.” You feel him squeeze your waist, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he returns your smile. You both jumped slightly as someone shouted from across the field. II had III in tow, the taller man dropping off his pack of hunting supplies before quickly making his way over to you. IV leans down, placing a kiss to the top of your head before stepping away. You smiled as III approached, your heart immediately pounding in your chest at the sight of the streaks of sweat that had broken down his black body paint. You were unable to stop your gaze from raking across his exposed torso. Your cheeks grew warm as your eyes snapped back up to meet his, immediately noticing the playful glimmer in his expression. You nearly stumbled backwards as III’s long strides quickly landed him right in front of you, a strong hand landing on your waist to steady you as he caught your chin between his fingers with the other. Your eyes dart to anywhere but his, trying your best to hide your flustered state.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.” He chuckles. “How are you beautiful?” You manage to squeak out a ‘good’ in response. III leans down, the fabric of his mask soft against your skin as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Have you shown her around at all?” He asked IV, his hand still lingering on your waist as he pulled away.

“Just a bit of the garden.” IV responds.

“Think we should give her the grand tour?” II suggests.

“I don’t see why not.” IV immediately perks up at the idea. You reach out, taking hold of IV’s hand, giving him a coy smile as you cuddle up to his side.

“Well, lead the way boys.” II and III share an amused look over IV’s surprised expression. It takes him a moment before he finally relaxes, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before he brings your knuckles to his lips.

It had been less than a year since they had arrived in town and the progress they had already made at their camp was nothing short of incredible. IV had grown a whole storehouse of crops, all of which were expertly preserved in order to maintain the four of them easily throughout the winter and early spring. You learned that he was hoping to learn how to make preserves out of the vast amounts of berries in the area. III showed you some of his easier to navigate hunting trails, explaining that he only hunts as needed and how important to him it is to use the entire animal whenever possible. The four of you wandered down trails, each of them pointing out spots where they would like to go to read or play music. “We should plan a day to hike out to the lake.” IV suggests.

“Maybe next summer, it’s a little too cold for that now.” II responds. “I definitely think we should at some point though, I really think you’d like it there.” You smile as III places a kiss to the top of your head, his presence at your side immediately being replaced by II who wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you continued walking. You had noticed how the three of them almost seemed to be taking turns being next to you, the thought alone was enough to make butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“I was wondering where you all went.” Your heart immediately began to race at the sound of Vessel’s voice. You turn to find him leaning in the doorway of his cabin, “love, would it be alright if I stole you for a second?” He nods for you to follow him inside his cabin.You swallow thickly, feeling nervous despite the fact you knew you had to reason to worry. You’re snapped from your thoughts by II pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll go start dinner while you’re in there.” He gives you a gentle nudge in Vessel’s direction, prompting you forward. He towered over you from his position leaning in the doorway, offering you his hand once you were in reach and guiding you inside. The inside of his cabin was simple; a small wooden desk with a chair sat in front of the window, a perfectly made bed with black sheets sat against the opposite wall, the large piece of furniture the focal point of the room. Across the room from where you stood you noticed a bookshelf tucked into the corner, the shelves filled with journals, textbooks, and various decks of cards. You could feel Vessel studying you, he watched your body language carefully, trying to gauge exactly how you were feeling in this very moment.

You jumped as he suddenly shut the door, a soft chuckle escaping him at the sight. “There’s no need to be so tense, love.” He steps up to your side, trailing a finger along the edge of your jaw as he leans down close to your ear. “I’m not that scary, am I?” He purrs, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’m just a little on edge today, I guess.” You laugh softly.

“And why’s that?” He keeps you close to him as he moves. Settling himself on the edge of his bed, his hands coming comfortably to rest on the curve of your waist as he holds you in front of him. You feel his fingers gently push into you, moving you closer to him without much effort. The front of your thighs presses against the edge of his plush mattress, Vessel’s long legs caging you in on either side. You still had to look up slightly to be face to face with him, knowing you had met his eyes behind the slits of his mask as your heart began to pound in your chest.

“I have a feeling you already know the answer to that.” Your voice trembled as you spoke.

“Smart girl,” he praises, “I see you’re putting the pieces together quickly.” He ponders over what to say for a moment, carefully selecting each word in his mind. “He spoke to you last night, didn’t he?”

“Vessel, what was that?” You answered his question with your own.

“That was Sleep.” He states simply. A bewildered expression formed on your face, Vessel continued speaking before you had a chance to ask any questions. “I for the life of me can’t figure out how to even begin telling you about Sleep.” He admits with a bashful chuckle. “I hate to keep you in the dark, but can I please ask you to wait just a little while longer?” The booming voice echoed in the back of your mind. ‘Trust in Vessel, he’ll show you the way.’ 

“I trust you.” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

“When the time is right I’ll tell you everything, you have my word.” He promises, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb trailing slowly across your skin. The cool material of his mask comes to rest against your forehead. He just held you for a moment, both of you relaxing into the comfortable silence that surrounded you. “I shouldn’t keep you too long, the others will throw a fit.” He says quietly, both of you dissolving into soft laughter.

“Vessel,” he hums in response to you saying his name.

“What is it, love?”

“I really enjoyed our time together the other night.” He froze, seeming almost dumbfounded by the words that had left your mouth.

“You did?” His response comes out timidly, as if he was dancing around those two simple words, worried it was the wrong thing to say. “Maybe… Maybe we could do something like that again sometime then.”

“I’d like that.” You smile softly at him.

Your fingers remained linked with his as he led you across the clearing, the other three members of the group working quickly to make sure everything was set up by the time you reached the table. You were handed a plate of something you didn’t recognize, but it tasted good. Your night became a blur of stolen kisses on your cheeks and laughter that easily bubbled up from your chest. “I believe II had something planned for the two of you tonight.” Vessel suddenly chimes in. “I think we should probably give them some privacy, boys.” He suggests with a patient smile. They each say their respective goodbye’s; IV pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, telling you he’ll see you soon before darting off to his cabin, III pulls you flush against him, lifting his mask just enough to capture your lips with his own. He mumbles a quiet ‘goodnight’ against your lips, his hand lingering on the curve of your waist as he pulls away. You turned to face Vessel, he held out his hand for you to take. “I’ll walk you.” It didn’t take you long to see that II had snuck off to set up a fire, a log pulled the perfect distance away from the flames to sit on. “It looks like you’re in for a nice evening.” You could feel his eyes studying you from behind his mask. “It’s a shame we have to part ways.”

“We still have a couple minutes.” Your eyes dart down to his lips momentarily.

“It almost sounds like you don’t want me to leave.” He responds with a lopsided grin.

“I don’t.” Vessel presses a knuckle below your chin, tilting your face up to allow him the chance to study your features closely.

“Trust me love, if I had it my way I already would have stolen you for myself.” He chuckles, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip. “We’ll have our time… I’ll make sure of it.” He whispers. He cradles your face gently in his hand, his eyes wandering over your features in silence for another moment before he speaks again. “II, make sure she gets home safely.” You hadn’t noticed until Vessel had startled him that II had wandered back in your direction. “Have a good night, beautiful.” A pair of warm lips press against your forehead, and just like before, as quickly as he was there he was gone. A sense of longing ached deep in your chest, one that was quickly pushed down as II’s hands came to rest on your waist. He gently turns you to face him, hand cupping your cheek as his lips ghost over yours. Your eyes flutter shut, your racing thoughts coming to a screeching halt as you let the kiss consume you.

“I’ve been waiting all day to do that.” II mumbles against your lips with a soft chuckle. Heavy, warm fabric is draped across your shoulders, your fingers instinctually reach up to rub along the edge of the thick denim jacket. “I wanted to make sure you were warm enough. It’s a nice night, but it still gets pretty cold out here.” You found yourself cuddled into his side, the campfire keeping you comfortable despite the chill in the air. II excitedly pointed out every constellation he recognized, filling your mind with tales of adventure, the bravest heroes, the most passionate of love stories. “Right there, that’s Andromeda. She’s famous for nearly being eaten by a sea monster because her mother tried to say she was more beautiful than the sea nymphs.” You can’t help but laugh slightly at the absurd story.

“Well, what do you think?” II gives you a curious glance. “Was she prettier than the sea nymphs?”

“She definitely wasn’t as pretty as you.” You stuttered out a shocked sound in response, your cheeks immediately growing warm. “You’re really bad at accepting compliments.” He points out bluntly, a hint of a smile in his tone.

“I’m just not really used to getting them I guess.” You admit with a bashful chuckle.

“You’re unfortunately going to have to get used to that then.” He glances down at you, his bright blue eyes meeting yours and freezing you in place. “You’re beautiful, I’m not about to let you forget that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[uriekukistan]

fr my dislike for this chapter was so strong i awoke from my slumber specifically to rant abt it.

and like if you’ve been here a while yk i’ve been a gege defender and an advocate for letting them take us where they want to take us. but now that we’re so close to the end im like. what was it all for? not just my defending them but also the plot of jjk?

im just sitting here looking at all these characters and themes and plotlines that i liked jjk for and they’ve all fallen short.

at present i don’t like how megumi and yuuta’s characters have ended. their arcs feel so incomplete to me and their endings make everything they’ve been through and done feel so inconsequential. and its not just them, but every character to me feels flat and reading their dialogue, i feel like they sound nothing like themselves.

basically everything post shibuya feels inconsequential too like it led nowhere and in the end, no one’s even like. a little bit burdened by what happened? nothing changes except mei mei gets to kill the new shadow style people that have Never Come Up Before?

and the thing that pisses me off the most is the way the themes have been handled. the themes have been one of the things i’ve loved the most about jjk, especially the ideas of loneliness and burden surrounding strength.

and for a while i’ve been of the mindset that i dont mind gojo dying bc i saw it as necessary in ushering in a new era where sorcerers could rely on each other and share their burdens. and with megumi and yuuji i saw that new future taking form (i won’t discount that, i still see it in them), but in this new chapter, it really shows that nothing has changed. gojo still carries the burden even in death, and now that yuuta’s the strongest, it’s shifted to him too, with much of the blame of things that went wrong being passed onto him now that he’s “The Strongest.” (i fear im giving gege too much credit w that interpretation)

i dont really have anything to say to wrap this together neatly, hope my half asleep rambling made some sense 🤞

[fangirl-dot-com]

The Inheritance

Guys, I keep messing up the timeline. So here we go. Christian, Geri, and Mitch find out about Lorenzo and your parents disowning you at your last F2 race. Max finds out about Lorenzo in this chapter (although not written in detail). Max then finds out about your parents in chapter 18 “All For You.” 

This is proof that I listen to my readers :D @dreamy-state-of-mind asked to see how reader bought her cars and this chapter was created! I can't do every ask for an idea but I try to listen to what y'all want!

Y'all are being fed...two chapters in a row (which means the next one won't be out for a little bit - so I apologize!)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Your hands were in your pockets as you walked around the open room. You had somehow lost Max, Vito, AND Christian. It wasn’t like you meant to walk away, you just did on accident. How could someone know that the foreign car dealership was this big. Well, you would know, but that’s beside the point. 

It was quite cold in Germany. Thankfully, you had packed extra layers, something the men seemed to not know how to do. You were sure that Max would have worn his Red Bull polo if you didn’t mention to Kelly where you were going. Sure, he could dress on his own, but who would want that? 

Your eyes gazed at all of the cars on the floor. Most were the common stock models. Audis, Mercedes, and even Volkswagens littered the area; yet, the cars you were looking for were nowhere to be found. You kept heading in the same direction, hoping to at least find a familiar someone who looked like they worked there. 

Your ears picked up on some German words. Feet taking faster steps, you rounded a corner. Ah, there they were. 

Somehow you completely missed seeing that the Porsches would be in a different room. You gingerly stepped farther into the vast open-ceiling room. Your hand itched to touch them, but you knew better. 

Looking at the cars brought back some great memories of the first time your godfather took you here. Yes, he could have gotten any Italian brand of car that he wanted. Everything was at his fingertips. Yet, he brought 11-year-old you to Germany to get his imported cars. 

Your eyes landed on a familiar model. If you thought hard enough, you could hear the imprints of Lorenzo’s and your laughs as he took you to do donuts in abandoned parking lots. 

“A beauty isn’t she,” a voice scared you, causing you to fall on your ass. Your cheeks burned at the thought of being caught. Yet, when your eyes met familiar friendly ones, the redness left. 

“Hi Seb,” you greeted as you took his outstretched hand that he offered. He pulled you to your feet and into a hug. After you were done, you pulled away to turn back to the car. This time, you let your hand gently grace the older door. 

“Enzo had one,” you simply stated, leaving it at that. Most knew you didn’t like to talk about the man, since it brough on so many emotional memories. 

Sebastian took a couple steps and stood next to you. 

“Do you still have the keys to the garage?”

You grinned up at the German ex-driver. “Of course I have the keys. You know he left me the entire house.” 

He bumped your shoulder, head jerking to lead you away from the car. You followed without hesitation. 

“What do you plan to do with it?” 

You cocked your head in thought. “I’m going to keep it for now. I don’t want to sell it. It’s not like I need the money anyway.” 

He chuckled. “I forget that you’re like a multi-millionaire at 20.” 

You just shrugged. “Not my fault that I was basically his only family. I never asked for it.” Your eyes dropped to the shiny floor below. A hand was placed on your shoulder. 

“I know. I’m glad that you’re well off. Makes me feel better about not seeing you as much.” A sad smile graced his face as he looked at you. 

You tried your best to give him a genuine one in return. “I’m doing much better than I was.” 

“Have you showed Max your vast array yet?” 

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’. “I plan to soon, actually. I told him that I needed to go to Italy after this.” 

Seb raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything else. You went to talk, but familiar voices echoed in the big room. 

“Kid!” 

“Seb?” 

Your head whipped toward the sound. Ah, there they were. 

And they brought an assistant with them. 

Max and Christian looked at Seb in question as Vito brought the German into a big hug. You stood toward the side to watch the two friends reunite. The assistant took this opportunity to approach you. 

“Ah Miss L/n, so good to see you again!” 

“Again?” Max questioned, looking at you. 

The assistant turned to the Dutchman. “Yes. Miss L/n has been a patron at this establishment for years now.” He turned back to you. “I have the two models that you called ahead for. I will lead you to them.” 

The man turned on his heal and began to walk deeper into the room. 

Sebastian was now talking to Vito and Christian, which led to Max walking by you. 

“I didn’t know you’d been here before.” 

You looked up at him with a sly smile. “My godfather bought a lot of his cars from here and would take me with him. Some of the cars at the front are a part of his collection that I donated when he passed. He left me so many, I didn’t know what to do with them.” 

Max stopped in his tracks as you kept walking. Once he got over his shock, he sped up to catch you. 

“So many?”

You placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Maxie, how much money do you think I have?” you asked, an innocent look on your face.

“Couple thousand?”

You shook your head. 

An eyebrow rose. “A couple hundred thousand?” 

Another shake as a mouth dropped. 

Max looked around before whispering, “Millions?” 

“Bingo. We’re going to tour my house when we go to Italy.” 

You kept on walking, leaving the even more confused Dutchman. 

“House?” 

A few steps more and you had caught up with the group of four men. Christian whistled at the sight of what lie before him. 

“Thank you Mr. Klein,” you shook the assistants hand as you looked at the two dark green cars in front of you. “Did the payment go through well?” 

The man nodded. “Yes it did. Mr. and Mrs. Fischer send their best regards and also thank you for the donation.” 

The four men (minus your manager) gawk at you. Yet, you were too busy beaming. 

“I’m so glad. Tell them that I will reach out the next time I’m here for longer. I want to see their children again, I miss them.” 

With a couple more goodbyes, weird stares, and going over plans to ship your Porsches to Monaco and England safely – you were on your way to Italy. 

Thankfully Sebastian wanted to join, saying something about how he hadn’t seen the house in forever. Which brought on more questioning looks from Max. 

However, Christian had to sadly say goodbye as he had a connecting flight to go somewhere else for business. You promised you’d send some pictures when you could. 

A chauffer had met you at the airport, names written in fancy calligraphy on a starch white piece of paper. 

The man gave you two cheek kisses as you greeted him. 

“Guido! Come stai amico mio?” (how are you my friend?) 

Max couldn’t wipe the look off his face as you began to talk to the older gentleman in perfect Italian. Vito only patted his shoulder. 

“You’ll get used to it. She’s definitely someone to unravel. You’ll get there.” 

The four of you then followed the man to the Rolls Royce that was waiting in the parking area. Suitcases were loaded in, and the three of you were on your way to your house. 

Or, more like mansion/estate/castle that Max found out as the car pulled closer. He turned to you. 

“Kid?” 

“Inheritance Max. Inheritance.” 

Your door was opened once the car was parked. Multiple people came out of the house, wanting to greet you. 

“La mia famiglia! Mi siete manvati tutti!” (My family! I’ve missed all of you!”) 

A couple of the staff took your bags as you walked through the giant doorway. Once you were through, you turned around and opened your arms. 

“Max, welcome to Casa di Lorenzo Alessandrino.” 

Max’s head was in a state of looking upwards as he walked in. He would have held his mouth open, but the interior seemed to demand respect as power and poise dripped from its walls. Now it was turn for Max’s hands to itch, wanting to touch everything.

Once everything was settled, you gave Max a tour as Vito and Seb went to go get some drinks. Your fingers twirled a special key ring as you led Max to your garage. 

You turned to him and gave a smile. “You ready?” 

Let’s just say, Max was not ready to see so many cars. Max let his jaw drop. 

The garage was deep and long, probably housing close to 40-ish cars. Your eyes glimmered as you looked at the older cars that you missed dearly. 

“You can go look you know,” you told Max as you made your way down the little staircase to the floor. Your heels clicked and echoed with each step. Max was quick to be on your tail. The Dutchman made his way quickly to each car, stopping for only a second before getting distracted by the next. 

You hummed as you looked at the empty spot among the Ferrari’s on the back wall. You pointed to it when Max came up beside you again. 

“The only car Lorenzo never had in his collection was the F40. I need to talk to Charles or Carlos about seeing how I can get one ethically. I want to complete the collection, but not pay far more than what it’s worth.” 

Max nodded, soaking in your words. He was about to say something, but a flash of orange caught his attention. His eyes sparkled as he looked at the spaceship looking car. 

“What kind of car is that?” 

You smirked as you gazed on your most prize possession. 

You walked closer and clicked the keys, making the car roar to life only for a second. (You don’t want to give you and Max monoxide poisoning.) 

Your hand ran over the orangey hues that covered the car.

“This is the Apollo Project Evolution.” 

Max looked down at the hyper car. 

“What that a V12?” 

“Yep. A Ferrari V12 to be exact. Three million dollars, one in ten made, over 700 horsepower, and completely street legal. I’d take you for a ride, but I would rather keep this between me and whoever knows about it.” 

You turned on your heel to start walking toward the door where you walked in. “I bought it because it reminded me of the spaceship from Guardians of the Galaxy.” 

Max snickered as he could imagine you at 14-years-old, watching that movie and falling in love with the space craft. Then, he imagined you last year, trying to find out how you could get your hands on it. 

He took one last glance at the big room, before following you back into the house. He softly shut the big door behind him. 

“Does Arthur know about this place?” he asked as he caught up to you, not wanting to get lost. 

You softly smiled at him. “Yes. I brought him here after Lorenzo passed away in 2020. I just didn’t want to be alone. Vito was here as well.” 

Max returned your sad smile. You and Vito had told him about the place on your way here. Tears were shed, hugs were given out, but you’d get through it. 

But then he suddenly pouted at the thought of you not bringing him here earlier. 

You tutted. “Don’t worry, Charles hasn’t been here if that’s what you’re pouting about.” 

That brought an instant grin to his face. You rolled your eyes at his childishness. Soon, you joined Vito and Sebastian in the kitchen. Aperol Spritzes lined the kitchen counter. Your hand reached one, before Vito was thrusting an different one into your hands. You pouted when you realized that yours was probably nonalcoholic.  

Sebastian snorted. “Let the kid have one.” 

“Vito, what do you think they do for podiums? Make sure mine isn’t actual champagne?” 

Vito rolled his eyes and handed you one from the kitchen counter. You quickly smiles and took a sip of the bubbly drink. 

“So kid, did you show Max the garage?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his own drink. 

You nodded as you placed your cup down. “Yep!” 

“And the track?” 

“You have a track!?” 

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 glad to be back to my home away from home. Italia, quanto mi sei mancato. conserverai sempre ricordi preziosi e non posso ringraziarti abbastanza per amarmi da bambino. quando tornerò sarò sul podio, ne sono sicuro

(translation : italy how i've missed you. you will always hold precious memories and i can't thank you enough for loving me as a child. when i return, i'll be on the podium - i'm sure of it)

liked by sebastianvettel, vito_official, y/nlover, and 58,204 others

y/n's_fav who was going to tell me that our girl knows Italian?

y/n_updates she speaks it fluently! her godfather was Italian and taught her when she was growing up! y/n_on_top all I'm hearing is that her, Carlos, and Charles can now talk shit about Max if needed

charles_leclerc quindi Max non riesce a capire? (so max can't understand?)

y/n.89 no, quindi è ora di svelare i segreti dell'infanzia, Charlie (no, so spill the childhood secrets Charlie) carlossainz55 abbiamo molto da dire (we have a lot to tell) maxverstappen1 I CAN READ MY OWN NAME - I KNOW YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME y/n.89 senti qualcosa? (do you hear something?)

vito_official così felice di essere a casa. possiamo restare ancora un po'? Guido e Luigi dicono che gli manchiamo troppo (so glad to be home. can we stay a bit longer? Guido and Luigi say they miss us too much)

y/n.89 mi mancheranno così tanto. torneremo presto! (i'll miss them so much. we'll be back soon!)

sebastianvettel glad to have been able to go with you! I'll see you soon kinder!

y/n_in_italy NOT HER HOUSEKEEPERS'S NAMES BEING GUIDO AND LUIGI

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

[personasintro]

monachopsis | 09

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tattoo artist!yoongi x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series, brother-in-law au

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, ANGST

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 16.4k+

a/n: the long wait is over and the new chapter is here 🥹 sit back and enjoy ❤️‍🔥

↳ chapter index

⇠ prev. | next ⇢

The cold and dark night perfectly portrays your inner feelings that dawn on you on the outside too, tears blurring your vision as you angrily wipe them off. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn't have come here. You trusted Yoongi to help you, maybe you even looked for comfort in him but you never expected he would accuse you of something like that.

Absolutely understanding that it's not his responsibility to comfort you, he could've easily told you to fuck off if he wanted. But still, you hoped he would understand. Your reaction is mainly controlled by your emotions, not with your head that doesn't seem to be in the right place.

Life taught you not to expect things from people, but everyone's got their expectations. Especially when you feel like you know that person at least a little bit. So you expect nothing this time, making your way to the car when you hear your name being shouted on the street. 

You've barely managed to take a few, fast and angry, strolls out of the studio. Glancing back and stopping in your tracks, you notice Yoongi staring at you as he rushes to you. You can't face him now. You turn around and continue in your path with even more eager and faster steps to get to your car.

Yoongi catches up to you though, running after you as the wind gets more intense and makes your hair stick to your wet cheeks. He's not going to let you leave, especially when he stormed out of his studio past his very confused friends. He's not fully understanding what happened, he might've gotten carried away and shouldn't have accused you of such things. But from what you were saying, it was something that made sense.

You're not okay. You weren't okay the second he laid his eyes on you when you were standing at the entrance of his new studio. And you're not okay now when he catches you by your forearm, stopping you from getting away from him and he sees your crying face. 

Fuck. Is that all his doing?

“What do you want?” you snap, shrugging off his touch with an angry frown as you wipe your cheeks with the sleeve.

What does he want? He has no fucking idea. He just couldn't leave you in such a state, knowing you have nowhere else to go. For fuck sake, he doesn't get why you came to him out of all people but you did. And he knows he would feel like a fucking asshole if he let you leave in your current state. The look of you only confirms he has done the right thing. 

“I shouldn't have assumed anything,” he speaks, eyes dancing across your face as you're trying to look angry. Only he feels bad for you, knowing what happened between you and his brother is way more serious. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry I came here. It won't happen again.” you say emotionlessly, ending the conversation there as you turn around.

Yoongi doesn't let you. He catches you again, softly but enough to let you stay as he turns you around. “Where are you going?”

“Why do you care?” The same emotionless tone. It makes his jaw tick. 

“Where are you going?” he asks again, this time more deeper and slower.

“To my car. Now let me go.”

The truth is, you weren't only crying because of what Yoongi said. Sure, the interaction shocked you to the point where you felt disappointment, sadness and anger. You don't even know what emotion dominates. However, it's the awful feeling of loneliness and desperation. You have no idea what you're going to do now.

Yoongi watches you, a realization hitting him. “Fuck, you're shaking, Y/N.”

It hits you too. He's right. You didn't even notice it.

And then you break and a silent whimper leaves your mouth. There's no control over it, your body shaking even more as Yoongi sucks in breath harshly at the heartbreaking sight. He moves automatically, pulling your body to his with no protest from your side as you welcome his warmth. Despite the odd situation and Yoongi's arms around your fragile body, it doesn't dawn upon you he's hugging you until he tightens his grip on you.

“It's gonna be okay.” he mutters into the chilly air.

For a moment you're not able to react in any way, you direct all your focus trying to stop the tears that have welled up in your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. 

“Nothing's gonna be okay.”

“Now that's very pessimistic of you.” He tries to joke lightly, letting out just a light chuckle. But once he doesn't seem you nowhere near amused and in the same state, he gently pulls you off him to get another glance at your teary face.

It's embarrassing that he sees you in such a horrific and vulnerable state. For a solid second you hate him for approaching you. Why couldn't he just let you leave? He said what he wanted to say. The hurt still resonates and even when he gently wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumb, like you would often see in romantic movies, nothing about this is romantic. You're pregnant, nowhere to go and with no one by your side. 

Yoongi might've apologized already, but his assumption and words still sting and you have a hard time believing him. Is he truly sorry? Or he just didn't expect you to storm out of there like that? And finding you crying in the middle of the street like an emotional wreck?

“Come on, let's get you to the car.” he mumbles under his breath, looking around before he gently tugs onto your wrist. He doesn't let go, almost as if he's afraid of you running. 

“My car's that way.” you point out emotionlessly, stubborn to show any more emotion that you already have.

He was right about one thing. You shouldn't drive in this state. No matter what could've happened, this is no longer only about you. You've got one more person to think about. 

“We're gonna drive in my car.” he simply says and you don't argue.

Once he unlocks his car with a key – the old system of unlocking – you get inside and does it feel odd to be back inside it again? No words are exchanged, the radio playing softly in the background as you allow yourself to lean back and stare out of the window. You're not sure where he's taking you. Oh god, is he taking you back home? You can't go there! Not with Yeonseok there. 

Just as you open your mouth, you recognize the familiar street and the direction you're heading at. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, despite knowing but you still have to ask. Yoongi's aware of that.

“To my place.”

“Yoongi–” 

Still hurt (and upset too) by your latest conversation at his new studio, you're aware of Yoongi wanting to be out of this as much as possible. While you're guessing he must feel bad for you and that's why he's doing this, you don't want him to do this out of pure pity. You would rather be alone in a hotel room until you figure out this mess. 

“You said you have nowhere to go, didn't you?” he reminds you. A little output by his bluntness, your mouth opens and closes before you find words. 

“And you said everything is way past us.” You quote him with an edge to your tone, shooting him a side glance as he keeps his eyes on the road as he lets out a sigh. “Drive me to a hotel. Any hotel is fine.”

You feel his momentarily gaze on you. Too stubborn to look, you keep staring ahead with a clenched jaw. It's not like there's no appreciation of what he's doing on your part. After everything – even if the emotions are too raw and current – you can tell that it's a positive thing that he decided to stop you from driving. As usual, you're absolutely clueless about what's going on inside his head or why he's doing this. You don't think he's got any bad intentions. Regardless of what his parents and your husband say about him, you know Yoongi does have a good heart.

But you've got your own pride as well.

“I know what I said and I'm sorry.” he simply says, continuing in his drive and not changing the direction which you decide not to comment on for numerous reasons. 

The air between you is a little stiff, undoubtedly caused by the misunderstanding (is that what it was?), and the way inside the building and his apartment is spent in utter silence. It's until Yoongi closes his front door and you're met with the familiar scent of oranges and wood, that you finally speak up. 

“Why am I here, Yoongi?” you ask, not taking off your shoes like he tells you to – muttering it almost tiredly to be exact. You ignore him, raising your brow as you demand an answer. 

He takes off his shoes and jacket silently, placing the items to their designated place. He's definitely taking his time but you don't budge, hardening your features even more as he takes a sneaky glance at you. 

“Can we not fight?”

“I'm not fighting!” you exclaim, a little bit too loud which causes him to raise his brow at you this time. “Thanks for driving me but I shouldn't be here.”

“But you came to me, haven't you?” he asks, hardening his features just as much. “You must've wanted help.”

“I needed a friend,” you correct him. “I needed someone who understands.” Your voice wavers and you mentally curse at yourself. 

He has no reaction, simply looking at you until he drops his gaze toward his feet.

“I know we're no friends. I'm aware of that. But I needed someone who's familiar with my situation. It was wrong of me to come up to you. You were right, it looked wrong and I shouldn't have–”

“I was an asshole for assuming the reason for you coming there.” he cuts you off. “It didn't even cross my mind that you needed–that you needed someone who understands.”

“You wanted as far out of this mess as possible,” you point out harshly. “And I can't blame you for it. We all got what we wanted, didn't we?”

He looks up, your eyes meeting for a moment as he understands the double meaning of your words. Poking the tongue inside of his cheek, he looks behind you.

“I don't wanna be any burden to you. I will handle this by myself, somehow. I don't know how yet, but it's not your concern. I'm sorry for coming to you.”

“Don't,” he cuts you off, staring at you sternly. “Just stay here, okay?” he asks, sighing exhaustedly like this entire situation makes him both mentally and physically exhausted. 

It definitely exhausts you.

“Why?”

The question is simple. You don't expect him to give you a proper answer or any at this point. Yoongi might be honest but most of the time, he keeps his thoughts to himself. He's not one to open his heart and if he does, he does it almost emotionlessly. You know it's all an act. The often mentioned build-up wall you named in your mind. 

“Because I wanna help.”

That alone makes your breath hitch. Dryly gulping, you try not to react too much as you stand there not moving an inch.

“Do you, now?” you ask. You're aware of your stubbornness and the fact you're not making any of this easy. You should be happy that he's trying to help. At least someone is. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of what a fucked up deal you made. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of why you left your perfect and loving husband. So yes, he's here trying to help and you should be glad for it. A part of you thinks like that. 

But there's that part of you completely clueless by his intentions or inner thoughts. He's talking but at the same time he barely reveals anything. Perhaps your questioning and attitude is caused by still lingering hurt. 

“Yes,” he answers with a frown. “So let me help you.”

Features softening, you stare into those usually sharp eyes that somehow keep their shape despite the light behind them changing. Hesitantly, you take off your shoes and ignore the fact he's watching you the entire time. Once you're done, he leads you further down his small apartment. Not that he needs you. You know this place well and again, it's not like any of you need that reminder. 

“I can lend you some of my clothes.” he says, motioning for you to sit down on his couch.

You obey, placing your hands over your knees as you look around. Why are you suddenly nervous? Or is that discomfort you're feeling? You definitely imagined all of this to go differently. Still a little shaken up by everything that has happened today, everything starts to take its toll on you. 

“I'm not a tea drinker but I should have herbal tea somewhere. I will make you one.”

He doesn't wait for your response, simply walking away to his kitchen to prepare the tea. He's gone for a few minutes, but you refuse to even look in that direction. You hate that feeling of being alone. As soon as you're surrounded by the four walls and silence, minus the occasional sounds of drawers opening and closing that come from the kitchen, everything starts to replay in your mind like a broken record.

Luckily, Yoongi comes back with a cup of tea, placing it in front of you in utter silence. 

“Thanks.”

He only nods, slowly and carefully sitting down on the separate chair. 

“You can take my bed.”

“I can sleep on the couch.” you inform him. “I'm not fragile.”

He seems like he wants to argue at that statement, he keeps his mouth shut. The couch is nothing but uncomfortable and you both know that. But you don't need him sacrificing himself any more than he already has. 

“Don't fight me on this, alright?” he asks gently. When your stern frown meets his exhausted one, you press your lips into a tight line as you mutter out another thanks. “I've got sessions throughout the entire day, but feel free to do whatever you want.”

“I'll leave tomorrow morning. Thanks for letting me stay the night.” you tell him, meaning every word. 

“You can stay however long you want, okay?” He leans his head, trying to catch your eyes again. And once he does and your gaze naturally finds him, he deepens his stare as if to make sure you understand. “I'm barely at home. You'll have this place all to yourself. Not that there's much to do but…”

You press your lips tightly, a little grin threatening to crack. 

“I'll try to come home quickly. We'll figure it out, okay?”

Looking at him once more, you search his face for any answers that are yet to be answered. 

What do you mean, you want to ask. Since when does he want to get involved?

“I thought you didn't want to get involved.” you say silently, staring at your fumbling hands that rest in your lap. 

“Yeah, me too.” he mutters, his eyes not leaving his form. “I got myself involved the moment I nodded to Yeonseok's idea.”

Flinching at the sound of your husband's name, you clear your throat rather awkwardly. 

“It's not your responsibility to get into this mess. I know in a way you're involved, but you're not entirely involved in my and your brother's mess.”

It definitely sounds messy. The argument started with Yoongi, the entire trail of your thoughts started with him in a way. But he doesn't need to get involved more than that. It was a mistake on your part to come to his new place and search for him, in hope for some comfort. 

“Me staying here is just going to cause a disaster.”

You both know you're talking about your husband here. The look you both share says it all. 

“Yeonseok?” he still asks, chuckling a little.

You nod. 

“I'm not afraid of him.”

“I know you're not but he's… you know how he is. If he finds out I'm here–he probably already suspects I went to you. I'm not sure but I think he does.”

“I'll handle him if he comes here.”

You nervously nibble on your bottom lip. Your stupid decision to seek comfort and support from Yoongi might cause even a bigger mess. 

“Don't worry, okay? I'll handle it. Let me help you.”

After staring at him hesitantly, aware of vulnerability written all over your face, you give him a nod. Something that allows him to relax as he leans back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 

“Drink your tea before it gets cold. I'll prepare the bed for you.”

You open your mouth to argue but before you can do that, he's already on his feet walking away. Sighing in disappointment, you reach for the plain black cup nevertheless.

Yoongi doesn't leave for work too early, but early enough for you two not seeing each other. You wake up later than usual, very well aware your late night staring at the dark ceiling and not blinking an eye has a lot to do with it. No matter how tired you truly felt as soon as you laid into the fresh sheets, your mind just couldn't seem to stop working. 

Yoongi stayed true to his words. He stayed on his uncomfortable couch. Proposing sharing a bed is not something appropriate, despite you've shared a bed before. Things are different now. 

The first thing you did this morning, after blinking off any traces of sleep and staring around Yoongi's bedroom, was turning on your phone. No missed calls. You're not sure whether you're relieved or surprised. Yeonseok is usually very caring and tends to get worried. Deep down you know you expected to see at least a message.

It's better this way. Having him trying to reach you would just make you more uncomfortable. You know he's equally upset and even though you've never been through something like this, you made yourself clear.

Getting out of the bed, wearing Yoongi's clothes which you're trying not to think of much, you find a sticky note on a counter. A messily written note. You imagine him writing it at the last minute, hurrying to leave for work. 

There's some food in the fridge, feel free to make whatever you'd like. It's not much but it should do.

Simple, but effective. 

Turning on the kettle, you prepare a cup and tea. Wow, he really isn't a tea drinker. Choosing the only box he has there, you open the fridge to find good ingredients to make a proper breakfast from. You've never been much of a breakfast eater, but after you got pregnant that has changed. You've been craving more food now, even though you sometimes get sensitive about smells and taste.

You settle on a toast. It takes you around fifteen minutes to prepare everything. You purposely take your time, knowing there's nothing much for you to do for the rest of your day. Maybe you should change back into your clothes and leave Yoongi's apartment while he's at work. As much as he assured you he wants to help, you know that's not what he wanted at the beginning. Not that it matters, but something tells you the inconvenience your stay is going to bring. 

You're not a pity case. You hate the thought of him pitying you.

Regardless of your thoughts, your feet don't cross his doorstep. You're in the middle of watching a movie on his Netflix account (hoping he won't mind you using it) when your phone rings. Brows lift up to your hairline, seeing Yoongi is the one calling you. Pausing the movie, you clear your throat before answering. 

“Yes?”

“Um, hey.” Yoongi starts, clearing his tone from the sudden but apparent awkwardness. “Have you eaten?”

Something about that question makes you snort. 

He groans on the other line. Little do you know he's awkwardly scratching the top of his head. 

“I have.” you say with a smile grazing your lips. 

“I'm gonna buy some groceries after work,” he continues. “There are some flyers on the fridge. Feel free to order dinner, there are uh,” he stops for a second. “A few bucks in my nightstand.”

“Yoongi, I should–”

“Just stay there, okay?” 

He's met with silence. 

“Y/N.” 

Stopping yourself from biting your nails, you lick your dry lips. “Okay.”

Once Yoongi ends the phone call without saying anything else, you stay seated in utter silence – staring at the paused movie. It sounded like he needed assurement you wouldn't leave. You're not sure why he's so determined about you waiting up for him. You wouldn't do anything stupid, it's not like you've got many options to begin with. But you promised him you would stay. 

After all, he's the only person who's helping you at the moment. 

Back in Yoongi's studio, he places the phone back onto a counter with a thoughtful look. Too immersed in his thoughts, wondering what he's going to do once he comes back home, he doesn't notice Jimin coming from the back and joining him in the front. 

“Your next appointment is in five. You alright?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at his friend with a suspicious look. 

“Yeah.”

“Who was that on the phone? Your girlfriend?” he teases the older, laughing at Yoongi's unimpressed glare that tells him enough that he's not in the mood for a dumb teasing. 

Actually, he's not been in the mood since he arrived at the studio and opened it with Jimin's help. While Yoongi's tattooing, Jimin takes care of the phone calls and incoming customers. After he ran after you, his friends were kind enough that they took care of the studio. Without their help, he wouldn't be able to start working and would be forced to cancel his long-waiting appointments. He's not in a position to cancel them. Even after paying his debts, he still needs the money.

His aching back is also a good reason for his sour mood. 

“Don't hate me for asking. You've been quite secretive lately, no wonder we're all a little curious.” Even with Jimin's light grin, there's some truth to his words. 

However, Yoongi doesn't agree. 

He's not been secretive. He's always been the same. And he's sure what Jimin hints at is–

“Does it have something to do with your sister-in-law?” He's met with a tougher glare this time, causing Jimin's hands to lift up in surrender, showing him he means no harm.

“Is she okay though? She stormed out of here looking like a mess and then–”

“She's fine,” Yoongi cuts him off, tone harsher than he intended to which causes the younger's shoulders to drop. “Just some trouble back at home. Come on, the client is coming.” he mutters, walking to the back feeling Jimin's eyes on his back the entire time until he hears his cheerful greeting to one of Yoongi's new clients. 

Despite the lack of Yoongi's will to share any information about what happened in the span of twenty-four hours, Jimin and none of his friends have a clue in what a fucked up situation he found himself in.

He never said at what time he would be back. 

You've waited long enough for him to come, too embarrassed to admit your ears have been perked up at the littlest sounds, expecting the keys rustling in the lock. But when it was around eight and your stomach started to churn loud enough to no longer be ignored, you listened to Yoongi's words and ordered a delivery. 

At least something seems to go right when you're in the middle of opening one of the containers when you hear the door being pushed open. It shuts in the distance and with soon approaching footsteps, you come into an eye-contact with him. Two bags full of groceries are in his both hands as the delicious smell of fresh food invades his small apartment. He glances at the amount of containers before he looks at you. 

An almost inaudible Hi comes out of your mouth and instead of a vocal greeting, he nods in acknowledgement as he greets you back by it. 

“I ordered some for you.” you tell him, slowly – almost cautiously – sitting behind the table. 

“Thanks.” he says, eyes still lingering on the full table as your eyes widen in realization.

“Oh, I paid for it. I got a little carried away and got us a pizza and chicken wings. There's rice and a few side dishes as well.” 

Yoongi listens for a second, walking to the kitchen counter where he sets the grocery bags before he turns around. He stays rooted in his spot, eyes falling down on you as you give him a sheepish look. 

“I told you there's money in my nightstand. You didn't have to buy all of this.” 

Even with his little pointed look and tone, you know he means well. And perhaps he's too prideful to suck up the fact you paid for it. Yoongi did say there's a few bucks in his bedroom but the order you placed cost more than just a few bucks. Although, you never checked how much money he has there – it didn't even cross your mind – none of it matters. 

“I wanted to buy us dinner. It's my way of saying thanks for letting me stay here. It's the least I could do.”

Holding back any sort of reaction like you're used to when it comes to him, Yoongi sighs and rubs his face tiredly. Then he looks at you and cracks – what seems like an attempt to – smile.

He knows there's no way in arguing with you on this. 

“Thanks. You didn't have to though.”

“I know I didn't. I wanted to,” you assure him right away, smiling in his direction as if to silently say that you're done with this conversation. “Now eat up. I hope you haven't eaten dinner already.”

“I haven't,” he hums, joining you at the table as he looks at the containers opening them. “Just how much did you order?” he asks, lips twitching.

“A lot.” you laugh. 

Yoongi goes to grab utensils, washes his hands before joining you again at the table. The moment of you two sitting behind one table – just the two of you – having dinner feels odd. It feels oddly domestic. Just as the both of you are ready to dig in, Yoongi mutters a soft; 

“Thanks for the food.”

All you can muster is a soft smile without even looking at him, stuffing your mouth with the delicious pizza as you continue to eat in silence. 

After yesterday's late dinner and during the time he cleaned the kitchen, he asked you for your car keys and documents, so he could bring the car today. Not wanting to argue about that, you agreed to Yoongi's plan – making sure it's no bother which earned a certain type of look from him. Or was it a glare? 

You've had the whole morning to think of your next step. Yoongi had left earlier than yesterday, the only difference is that he informed you about him having to leave very early. Something about his day being fully packed, so the only time he can bring your car is in the evening.

Your entire life is currently a big mess. What was supposed to be the happiest stage in your life, you're spending it at your brother-in-law's place with nothing. All your stuff is back at home. Home. Can you call it that? 

Yeonseok has not contacted you yet. He's probably still upset over the argument and you've no idea what is going on inside his head. Not that you assume he has to contact you in the first place. Actually, you would be glad if he didn't contact you. 

Eventually, the two of you will have to talk. You're not ready. Not after everything that has been replaying in your mind nonstop. Sleep is the only time when you have enough time to rest, and even that is never guaranteed. 

One thing you know for sure, you can't stay here for too long. You don't want to overstay your welcome and despite what Yoongi told you on the phone yesterday, you just know he is going to want this place to himself eventually. Which means, you have to solve this with Yeonseok.

You do have money to stay at a hotel for the time being, but that's not a solution. Just a temporary one. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You're supposed to buy baby clothes and essentials, look around for a good crib and a stroller. Not being in someone else's home, invading their space and privacy and stressing yourself. On another note, it's safe to say that it is completely reasonable for you to stress. Who wouldn't?

The stress has completely invaded your life and while you're trying to keep your cool for the baby, it's bound for it to affect a thing or two. Like forgetting your appointment. 

Good thing is that when you go to check your phone (while trying to give yourself a break from your never-ending stressful thoughts), a reminder pops up on the screen. You've never been one to set reminders on your phone. Just a quick note if there was too much for you. But you've started doing that since going on these appointments that included the baby.

Looking at time, you still have two hours to get there.

But that's where the problem comes. You're without your car, so you're forced to list through your contacts before you dial the only person you've been seeing for the past two days. 

It rings too long to the point you get anxious. You could reschedule the appointment, but with how things have been going so far, you need the assurance that everything is fine with the baby. You haven't experienced anything alarming and concerning that could alarm you, but still. You don't want to neglect anything. If something happened, you would never forgive yourself. 

Whilst in the middle of nibbling on your nails, a gruff voice you've grown to use to reach your ears.

“Um, hi. I'm sorry to bother you, I know you're extremely busy today but–”

“What happened?”

“I'm such an idiot. I just checked my phone and my appointment is today. And you know, my car's not here and I could probably get there by a bus, but I don't know this neighborhood and I'm not sure if I could get there on time.” you quickly explain, not wanting to take much of his time.

You don't know everything about him, but he seems to be the type of person that gets annoyed when someone interrupts him while working.

If he is annoyed, he doesn't show it too much. 

Or it's hard to tell because his usual stoic demeanor can be recognized even through the phone. “What appointment?” he sighs.

“With–with the baby.” 

He stays silent for a moment, “What time is it?”

“It's half past ten.”

“I meant the appointment.”

“Oh,” you let out, chuckling at your mistake as you mentally facepalm yourself. But it's worth it, there's something like a huff of chuckle on the other line which breaks his usual demeanor you mentioned earlier. “In two hours.”

“Ah, fuck,” Yoongi sighs a little, “Okay. I will drive you there.”

“You sure?”

“How else you wanna get there?” he asks, which shuts you up for a moment.

“I mean, that's true but you said you're busy. Maybe I could quickly check the buses and get to your address. My car's there. Oh, how did I not think of it sooner?”

“Stop,” You pucker your lips as you freeze, almost as if Yoongi is right there. “Don't stress yourself. Just get ready, I'll pick you up in like an hour and half.”

“Thank you.” you say, sighing in relief. 

You imagine him nodding as he lets out a humming sound. He excuses himself before he ends the call. Your call falls down on your lap as you stare at the blank screen of his television. Ignoring the thumping of your heart from the entire call, you go get yourself ready.

Yoongi picks you up right on time, his car already parked in front of the building while you walk out of the entrance. When you get inside, you get a greeting in the form of a short nod before he puts the car into drive. Giving him location details, you nibble on your lip for a moment. His car smells like his cologne, mixed with cigarettes and mint. It's an odd scent. Despite you hating the smell of cigarettes, you don't seem to mind this mixture. Besides, the cigarettes' smell isn't that strong. 

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

Filling up the silence, you feel like it's the right thing to do because you're not going to spend the rest of the ride in an awkward silence. Glancing at Yoongi, he looks anything but awkward. It's like he's in his own space, distancing from everything and everyone, closing himself off as he focuses on driving.

“Is this the moment where you apologize for bothering me?” he questions, a tilt of teasing in his voice as he says it with the most neutral face. 

You stare at him, mouth agape before he briefly glances at you as he can't hold himself. His lips twitch slightly but you notice it right away. Breathing out a chuckle, you shake your head at him. Min Yoongi is freaking teasing you.

“I mean—you had to get here when you were working.” you point out. 

Though, you weren't planning on apologizing, he's right in a way. 

“But I insisted on leaving your car there. I insisted you drive with me.”

For obvious reasons, you think. Not that you want to admit it, but you're glad he didn't let you drive in the state you were in back then. 

“You don't have your car thanks to me, let's end it with that, okay?”

“Okay.” you agree, turning your head to the window as you stare at the streets and people passing.

Once the road and surroundings become more familiar, the oddness of this all comes to sit in the pit of your stomach. Meanwhile you stare at the tall building you've grown used to, Yoongi finds a good parking spot. Once the engine's off and business of the surroundings can be barely heard through the windows, you reach for the doorknob slowly. 

“You're gonna be fine from here?” he asks, not looking at you when you do glance at him. 

When you don't answer right away, he glances at you before you can find the proper words to tell him that you will be fine.

“You don't need me to go there with you?”

Even if his tone is nonchalant as if he's asking the most basic stuff, he takes you by surprise and makes your brows shoot up. “You would go there with me?” you ask, sounding not totally sold on that idea. 

Looking at him now, he already seems to be wanting to be in a different place. Not in front of a building full of doctors and inside with a bunch of pregnant females. Suddenly, the thought of seeing him there is a little laughable. 

So because of that, you haven't even thought about him being there. Until he said it. 

You do need to admit that you haven't been here alone ever since you got pregnant. Your OB/GYN is here, so you used to go here for check-ups way before that. Yeonseok was the one who joined you right after you got pregnant. Thinking of it now, you're reminded of how excited you were to go for these check-ups, not only to calm down your nerves if everything's right, but to see your baby. Even if you could hardly tell their body parts.

It became the thing between you and him. It's what most expecting parents do, but it became your special thing in a way. Something that you always looked for. Something you've always done together.

But now – it's the first time you're here alone. Yeonseok is not by your side and probably the most distant he's ever been in your life. That's on you though. It would be weird to ask him to come here, after everything that has been said between you and him. 

“I would, if you want me to.” Yoongi replies, catching your attention and as you slowly shake yourself out of your thoughts, you remember what the conversation is about.

“Wouldn't that be weird for you though?” you ask, noticing you still have ten minutes before your scheduled check-up.

He doesn't respond at first, deciding to ignore that question as he sinks deeper into his seat. Elbow coming up to rest against the door, he uses his fingers to rub his chin softly.

“Nothing I couldn't handle,” he decides to say, “You're acting a little weird, that's why I'm asking.”

Clueless to what Yoongi's thinking, he thinks of one of the reasons that could potentially get you acting weird, at least one that's generalized and comes to his mind first. He doesn't even have to think about it too much. You're worried that something's wrong, right? Aren't most pregnant women like that?

Maybe it's better you can't read his thoughts, or else he would get a nasty look in return. You are a little bit more sensitive. 

Should you just tell him? Again, you do not want to burden him in your shit any more than you already do. Telling him about Yeonseok would probably not only put him into a sour mood, but it would mean he would most likely try to understand you. You've figured out a long time ago that he's not bad at all. 

Yoongi is actually a sweet person. Still in his way, but without a doubt, he is one.

Making a decision of just telling him instead, be honest and in a hope he won't think you want to be pitied, you lick your lips as you shrug. “It's because it is weird. Yeonseok used to come with me every time.”

He's silent for a moment, “And now he's not here.” he adds without you having to finish as you nod, confirming his thoughts. 

“Which of course, doesn't mean you have to go with me.” you quickly correct whatever suspicion he might have. 

But looking at him, he looks anything but suspicious. He nods, more to himself than to you or your words, shrugging. “I understand shit about pregnancy, but it probably feels lonely to go there alone, right?”

Well, damn. The look you give him makes him shrug. 

“You don't need to pity me, Yoongi. It's not that big of a deal.”

“I still have to wait for you, right? Need to drive you back.”

“Well, it's up to you.” you mumble, tapping your fingers against your knee. “I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Around pregnant females?” he chuckles, “How bad can it be?”

“You can come with me, I think…” you nibble on your bottom lip, “I think I would like that.”

He nods.

“But only if you want to!”

By the time you're done talking, Yoongi's already unfastening his seatbelt, motioning for you to do the same. You can't believe you're doing this.

As you approach the building and navigate Yoongi where to go, you're not sure what's weird to begin with. The thought of going here all alone or the thought of Min Yoongi beside you.

What the fuck.

Pictures of vaginas, uterus and what it looks inside of women's uterus during pregnancy are everywhere. Don't get him wrong, he has seen a fair amount of vaginas and he's quite familiar with it, but not like this. It feels very… odd to be surrounded by a sketched version of it all. Obviously, he's never been in a waiting room like this one.

Sitting next to you soundlessly, he shifts on his spot as you seem to be immersed in your own thoughts. He has no idea why he agreed to this. While he knows you in no way forced him and perhaps you find a weirdness of his presence here as well, he just tried to do the right thing. 

You've been through a lot and as much as he tried to distance from it all, he's got you in his home. Maybe he's not very upfront about it or too enthusiastic, but he does help people that seem in a need of it. Even though he doesn't look like he loves doing it, he just does. Is it important if someone loves or hates helping others as long as they do it? 

Right next to him, legs crossed and fingers playing with your rings, you were right. There are couples, chatting silently with wide smiles as they can't see their little ones forming into a proper life. You were one of those people not long ago. 

You don't allow yourself to feel guilty about it. You did what you had to do to make sure not to hurt yourself or others even more. Only time will show if it was the right decision, but for now, it feels like the best one you could've made. 

On the other hand, you can't believe Yoongi is in a waiting room with you, staring obnoxiously at the image of a uterus. It's pretty laughable though.

Suppressing your laugh, you watch him stretch his legs as his arm rests in his lap. Ignoring the veins that mostly pop up because of the pressure of his posture, he makes himself comfortable. Does he find this weird too?

There is no way he has done this before in his life. Of course, he hasn't. 

“You know,” you murmur silently, just for you and him to hear. He glances at you, giving you his attention but then again, maybe he's glad he doesn't have to stare at the picture any longer. “You don't have to go inside with me.”

As usual, he has no shocked reaction to it. “I didn't even think about it.”

You open your mouth, a little offended look that gives it away as he cuts you off before you can say anything.

“I meant as I'll go and wait with you here.”

He tries to explain in his own nonchalant and informative way. Well, you can't get mad at that. Weirdly, you understand what he means. 

Leaning back and trying to make yourself more comfortable, you hope they'll take you soon so he doesn't have to wait too long. Despite his usually calm demeanor, Yoongi does not look like the type to like waiting. Well, who does? But he surely has no patience for this. Even more so that he has a job that he needs to go back to. 

Luckily, the door opens soon and the nurse you're familiar with calls you in. Some couples like to come early, probably too excited to not mind waiting it out here. Some of them are called as well, since there are more ambulances on this floor.

You grab your things before standing up, making your way inside as the nurse stops you. “Is the young man not going with you?”

Since Yoongi and you were sitting close together, there's a low chance he would be a stranger considering there are free seats on both sides of you. She asks long enough, looking at Yoongi with a welcoming and friendly smile. 

“Ah, that's my friend.”

“We're only screening today. It's up to you though.” she reminds you, smiling widely. You would too if you had her paycheck. It's a private hospital after all.

Not trying to catch too much attention about something so… normal, Yoongi directs his eyes from the nurse to look at you. “It's up to you.”

“As long as you're comfortable with it, Mrs. Min. It was just a suggestion. I know some women bring their friends with them, no matter the gender.” she tries to joke, your smile tight and awkward.

“I'm a family friend.” Yoongi justifies, as if that makes it any better.

It's a look of realization that hits you and you watch it in horrification as her smile grows even wider. “Oh, yes! You do look very familiar. You must be Mr. Min's family, right? It's so lovely of you to come here!”

She's kind and clearly enthusiastic, you can't share it with her though. Staring at Yoongi in pure panic, he gives the nurse an unsure smile as he tries to make things clear – which is not like him at all. 

“I'm his brother.”

You would've guessed he would just keep his mouth shut at Yeonseok's mention, not confessing his relation to him at that. 

“Oh, come on then. Let's look at your niece or nephew.”

You close your eyes, ready to facepalm yourself in front of the entire waiting room as you embrace yourself. You're not sure whether you should laugh at the irony or cry in horrification. 

Yoongi presses his lips tight, nodding awkwardly as he glances back at you, giving you the final decision. 

“I'm okay with that.”

Despite the irony and awkwardness of this all, it would feel less lonely to be inside and look at the baby. Not thinking about the entire biology and blood related thing, Yoongi is a family. Whether we are speaking only metaphorically or taking biology into consideration. If he wasn't fine about it, he would say so, right?

You see he's a little unsure as he stands up, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as the nurse ushers you both come in. It's hard to decipher what's going on inside Yoongi's head. One thing's sure and that is he's nowhere in his field. He still walks in the room, trailing slowly behind you as another familiar room welcomes you.

Just as your doctor undoubtedly notices Yoongi's presence as soon as she looks up from the computer's screen. 

“It's Mrs. Min's brother-in-law.” The nurse cheerfully informs your doctor, clearly unaware of how much more awkward she is making it for you two. 

You can't be mad at her though. She doesn't know. Yoongi does send her a glare which causes you to inconspicuously elbow him when none of them are looking. He shrugs. After all, it is his fault he admitted his entire relation to you. If he kept his mouth shut and just went with being just a friend, it would be less awkward than this. 

“It's nice to meet you! Let's look at the baby!” Mrs. Kim, the doctor, says as she stands up and motions for you to lay down. 

Trying to shake off any discomfort, you lay down and look at Yoongi for a split second. He stays at the end of the bed, trying to look around as if watching the scene in front of him would make you entirely uncomfortable. It's not like he hasn't seen every inch of you. 

Rolling up your shirt just as Mrs. Kim sits down on her stool and prepares the lubricant gel, you spot Yoongi giving you a side glance. His eyes suddenly turn into a big size, naturally finding the small but evident bump you just revealed. 

You intertwine your fingers together and put them above your stomach, you try to stay calm. 

“This will get slightly cold, you know the drill, Mrs. Min.” The doctor chuckles, squirting a proper amount of the gel onto your lower stomach.

Your attention is turned elsewhere, away from the man who seems so out of place at the moment. You focus it on the screen next to your head, recognizing the familiar sight and colors. However, this time everything's bigger and more visible which makes your chest tight and eyes tear up. 

Whether it's your hormones or current situation that makes you so emotional, all the pressure suddenly leaves for a moment at the sight of your baby.

“Everything seems to be looking just alright, Mrs. Min,” she informs you with a smile, giving you a quick glance as she moves the scanner around your lower stomach. “Come closer, Mr. Min. Have a look.” she urges him, just like the nurse, completely oblivious to everything. 

Yoongi looks like he wants to protest, almost ready to shake his head but when she turns to him with an encouraging smile, he sighs and comes closer. He leans forward.

“There is the head,” she explains to him just like she did to you and Yeonseok before. “And arms and legs.”

He stares, mouth agape. Straightening himself, he clears his throat and gives her a nervous smile. But it comes out crooked. You almost snort at that.

“The baby is on the smaller side.”

“Is that a bad thing?” you question immediately.

“Not at all, it's not anything abnormal or to be concerned about. It mainly depends on the parents.” she explains, calming you down which makes you sigh in relief. “Would you like to know the gender?”

“You can see that?” you almost jump, seeing her smile curve into a wider one.

“Mhm,” she nods, “It might not be a hundred percent accurate, you're still at fifteen weeks.”

“Wow, well–”

“We can wait for your husband if that's what you prefer.” she assures you, a sour taste coming into your mouth as you look at Yoongi. 

“It's whatever you want.” he reminds you silently, the corner of his lips lifting.

By how things look with Yeonseok, you're not sure if waiting for him has any meaning. Fuck. You don't even know if he wants to be the father. How can you possibly just wait it out?

“We could do it on your next scan, it will be more accurate. But I can see it now and I'm eighty percent sure.”

Nibbling on your lip, you literally say fuck it in your head. “Tell me please.”

She chuckles, “From the looks of it, you're expecting a baby girl, Mrs. Min.”

A chuckle of disbelief and joy escapes your mouth, knowing whatever the answer would be, you would be just as ecstatic. It's just knowing the truth and more information about your baby is enough to make you a crying mess. 

“I'm sorry,” you giggle, putting a palm over your mouth as you smile widely. 

“Congratulations, Mrs. Min.” The doctor and nurse speak at the same time.

“Congrats.” Yoongi says, squeezing your ankle. You bite your lip, giving him a slight nod.

The doctor hands you the wipes and lets you wipe the lubricant off your skin. You're taken back when Yoongi offers you his hand when you sit up.

“We'll just draw your blood to run some tests and you're free to go.”

“Are you happy?” Yoongi asks silently once the doctor and nurse are nearby, but not enough to hear you two. The nurse is preparing the needle while the doctor writes the report to your patient card. 

“I am,” you answer with a smile, “I still would be regardless of the gender.”

“A little girl.” he mutters, zoning out for a second.

“A little girl.” you confirm.

You both stare at each other until the nurse comes back and interrupts you, preparing you to draw your blood. “Are you good with needles and blood, Mr. Min?”

He cocks his brow at her, showing her his tattooed sleeve, popped out veins along with it. She blushes in return. She freaking blushes as she laughs a little. You watch the exchange with a deadpan look. He smirks, cockily shrugging when he notices your stare.

She draws your blood, handing you water after she's done just in case. After everything's done, you schedule another appointment before you're free to go. Happily clutching the printed ultrasound, you put it into your purse to keep it safe once you get inside Yoongi's car. 

You're both silent, again, deep in your thoughts until the replay of what happened just a few minutes ago makes you ask. “Why did you tell her about being Yeonseok's brother?”

“Why? Should I have not?” he questions right back.

“I just didn't expect that. You're not exactly too keen on informing others about your relation to him. It just seemed odd,” you shrug, voicing out your thoughts. “It felt… awkward. Y'know, considering everything.”

Yoongi stays silent, lips in a thin line before he sighs. “I panicked.”

“You panicked?” you ask, laughing a little at that. “Because of what?”

“I don't know!” he exclaims, almost whining which makes you giggle. “She kept asking and I just didn't know what to say. Wouldn't it be weird for me to be there as your friend?”

“Hm, I don't think so,” you answer, “You heard her. Many friends come there. She doesn't have to know we're not friends.”

“Ouch,” he tries to play it off, clutching his chest as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Are we not friends?”

“I don't know, you tell me. Bro in law.”

“You did not just call me that.” he cringes, causing you to laugh. 

“You were the one who was adamant of being my brother-in-law instead of a friend.” you remind him cheekily, watching the way he looks away in embarrassment. 

“I panicked.” he mutters rather grumpily causing you to hold your laughter.

After a moment of silence, you look at him again. “Thanks for going there with me. Inside too. It felt nice not having to do that alone.”

“I thought so.” He confesses.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you might feel lonely,”

You're not sure how to feel about that statement.

“And you're welcome.” he says, though his eyes stay on the road, distant and out of reach.

Delicious smell flows through Yoongi's home as soon as he opens the front door. After he drove you back to his place, he went to work and listened to Jimin's nagging of being a few minutes late. After today, he felt like he could handle anything so Jimin's scolding did nothing to him. Not that it did before but this time, he decided to ignore him instead saying; Well I'm here now.

Jimin, speechless and annoyed, stayed quiet and only shook his head at his boss and friend. What else for him was to do when Yoongi greeted the client and shut the door behind them, hiding from the entire world.

He loves his work. Partly because he's distracted and has no time to think about unnecessary things. Which came handy especially today.

While he was busy working, you don't have much to do. After staring at the scan for a few minutes and dodging your family's calls, you decided to hop into the nearest grocery store. It's been a while since you baked, you prefer cooking but you've been craving something sweet. At least that's what you told yourself, that's the reason why you decided to abuse Yoongi's kitchen. Not because you wanted to do something nice for him, as another thank you for being there for you.

You've no idea if Yoongi even likes cakes.

So when he suddenly appears between his living room and kitchen, at first you have no idea how to explain the slowly disappearing mess that you've tried to clean off before he arrives. 

“I baked bundt cake,” you inform him, palm spreading and pointing straight at the fresh cake where steam still flows into the air. “I hope you like cakes.”

“Cakes are fine,” Yoongi mutters, watching you wipe off his counter right away.

“I'm sorry about the mess, I tried to clean it before you come.”

“'S fine.” he says, still standing in the same spot. He is not sure what to think of this. 

You finish the last traces of any mess, the good smell, you hope, the only sign of baking remaining. 

“Listen,”

You put the kitchen towel back to place, watching him with doe and curious eyes. 

“I was thinking. Maybe you should get your clothes and stuff.”

You stare, Yoongi clearing his throat as he shakes his head.

“I meant from your home. You don't have much clothes here and it must be uncomfortable not having your things with you.”

“Are you asking me to move in, Min Yoongi?” you tease, trying to hide your natural reaction which you're not sure what exactly is. 

He cringes but chuckles, “You're welcome to stay here.” 

You smirk at his diplomatic response before any traces of amusement are gone, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. “You're right. I probably should do that. The thing is–”

A sound of a doorbell rings through the apartment, your eyes meeting as soon as the sound reaches your ears. “Are you expecting someone?”

He shakes his head. His friends know better than to come unexpected, even though he wouldn't put it past them. Without saying anything, he leaves with a thoughtful look to get the door. Something sits in your stomach, perhaps feeling like something's bad coming.

You barely finish the thought when you recognize the voice of your husband, rushed and angry footsteps. It happens in a millisecond and he's revealed in the flesh, shoving Yoongi in the chest. 

“Where is she?!” he asks, too upset to notice you first but the shock causes you to yelp in surprise, clutching your chest as you watch Yoongi shoving him back. 

However, Yeonseok doesn't reciprocate as the sound coming from you makes his head snap in your direction. He straightens, shocked to see you here but then it turns into a knowing and pained look.

“Of course you're here,” he exclaims.

“Calm the fuck down.” Yoongi warns him. Yeonseok knows better than to react to that, too immersed in you, seeing you in his brother's kitchen. Eyes moving to the freshly baked bundt cake, the one you baked for him multiple times and that's when you see rage coming back. 

“So you live here now?!” he yells, causing you to flinch as you can't move for some reason. You're frozen, unable to move an inch as you helplessly watch the scene in front of you. “Playing a happy family with the man that knocked you up?”

“Someone had to when you couldn't.” Yoongi snaps, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as your palm slap against it, eyes fully wide.

Yeonseok lashes at his brother while you watch in horror as Yoongi is being pushed roughly into the wall.

“Stop!” you yell at your husband, already knowing where this is going. “I came to him! It's not his fault!”

“No, but he welcomed you with open arms, didn't he?” he seethes, clutching Yoongi's shirt in his fists as he throws you a nasty glare. “Waiting for this moment to piss me off and get back at me.”

You don't bother explaining to him that no, it didn't happen like that and from what you can clearly remember, he wasn't too keen on getting himself involved. Whatever it is, he still helped you in the end and that's what upsets Yeonseok. 

“Yeonseok, listen to him,” you grit through your teeth, stepping closer as he refuses to look at you now that you're closer. “I had nowhere to go.”

“Bullshit!” he yells, Yoongi growling at him for raising his voice as Yeonseok only tightens his hold. “Tell me one reason why I shouldn't knock your teeth out right now.”

He is a maniac. Yoongi is a fucking maniac because he laughs in Yeonseok's face, not exactly fighting his hold as if the thought of Yeonseok coming even close to getting violent is a joke itself. Perhaps it is. You've never seen Yeonseok fighting or getting violent. You don't like it. 

“Do it, if it makes you feel better.” Yoongi prompts him with a grin, another gasp yet leaving your mouth.

“Yoongi!”

Yeonseok growls at his brother, throwing Yoongi more into the wall as you cringe at the impact. However, the said man looks unbothered and completely loosen up, showing no resistance. This whole I don't care attitude just pisses Yeonseok even more, prompts him to act violent and upon his anger.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you, huh?!” he yells in his face. Yoongi only scoffs, looking sideways to shield himself from Yeonseok's loud voice hitting him right in the face. “Having my wife in this scrappy place of yours–you've waited for this opportunity.”

Yoongi scoffs, finding Yeonseok's accusation nothing but funny. “The wife you couldn't respect the moment she wanted to break-up.”

Yeonseok's mouth opens in a mild shock, his gaze momentarily falling on you as he stares in utter disbelief. You know how it seems. It's not hard to think what Yeonseok's thinking right now. His assumptions are proved right in his slightly hazy mind. It's not helping with his anger and pain at all. He thinks you really spilled everything to Yoongi. And while you were honest with his brother, it wasn't for some vile reason to hurt Yeonseok. You had to talk to someone and Yoongi would get it. He knows your situation. 

“Aren't you two just lovebirds?”

“Yeonseok–” You sigh, exhaustion prominent on your face and voice. 

“S–” He lifts his hand up to stop you. “Shut up.”

His audacity and the fact he has never spoken to you that way leaves you speechless. You're not able to react but there's barely any time to as Yeonseok seems unhinged, seeing red. 

“Have you fucked her again? Huh? Have you enjoyed fucking her when she's still my wife? We were supposed to be a family. You ruined it.”

“You're delusional if you think I ruined your family.” Yoongi argues, scoffing once again as Yeonseok grunts and pushes him into the wall. 

“Yeonseok, that's a serious accusation. I told you, I came here because I had nowhere else to go.”

“Bullshit!” he yells at you, spits of anger landing in front you as you frown. 

“If you just let me explain–we need to talk. We could still be a family, it's you who said–”

“I know what I said Y/N,” Yeonseok cuts you off, voice angered and powerful. “But I knew you would come running to this–” He looks in pure disgust at Yoongi who only lifts his brow at him. 

“You would what?” Yoongi pushes, “You would want a single mother?”

Yeonseok's face twists in another sign of betrayal and turns into anger. “And you would want her? Is that what you're saying? Take her then. Not so cocky right now, huh?”

Yoongi pushes into him, silently warning Yeonseok to keep his mouth shut. There's nothing you can physically do. You can barely move, watching and listening to the words closely as your heart cracks with each spiteful word your husband says. It's the shock of hearing him talking about and with you like that.

You're not innocent in this at all, but this could've been talked about when everyone's calmed down. Actually, Yoongi shouldn't even be a part of it. Whatever is talked about should be kept between you and Yeonseok. Yet again, you're reminded that Yoongi is currently in this position because of you and your mistake of coming to him. 

“You can't be a father, Yoongi,” Yeonseok mocks him, “You just wanted her for a good fuck, is that it? You wanted to get back to me because you're a pathetic brother just as much as you're a pathetic son.”

“Yeonsoek, that's enough!” you yell, no longer keeping quiet but he ignores you, continuing to spit venom in Yoongi's neutral face.

“Try raising my kid–since you so much helped making it.”

You gasp, face twisting into a glare that's shooting at Yeonseok's back.

“Your kid?” Yoongi laughs.

“Yes, my kid.” Is the one argument Yeonseok doesn't let off. 

“Let's see who the kid resembles when they're born.”

And that's the final line Yoongi gets to say with a smirk on his face, completely provoking Yeonseok to the core as he can no longer stand it. He growls before a punch is thrown at Yoongi's face, causing him to almost slide off the way. He catches himself and while you yelp, hands covering your mouth in a pure shock even though you should see it coming. You've never thought you would witness such a violence, let alone a fight shared between two brothers. 

They've never had a good relationship. Though, you never expected them to come to the point where they actually fight. 

Yoongi straightens himself, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth to wipe off a droplet of blood that is a result of Yeonseok's fists. Everything is silent for a second, besides the harsh breaths coming from Yeonseok's angered state and Yoongi's calm breathing. For a split second, you think everything ended. Literally.

But you would be delusional to think otherwise, to think they're done. Because one second you see Yoongi staring deadly at Yeonseok and before the older brother can react, Yoongi's fist meets Yeonseok's jaw in a loud crack, causing him to stumble into the kitchen counter. You gasp, yelling Yoongi's name as you try to catch Yeonseok, so he doesn't hit the edge of the counter. He shakes you off the moment you get to barely touch him, almost as if you burned him.

Frowning, you step aside. 

“That's for every second you've disrespected her since you came here,” Yoongi spits at his brother, shaking his fist and bloody knuckles.

Yeonseok's too busy holding up his bloody nose. The sight makes your stomach churn, both in disgust and worry.

“And you fucking know you deserve much more.”

Yeonseok's eyes shut in pain, shaking his hand to get some of the blood off it. You watch it stain Yoongi's floor and you immediately cringe at the sight. 

He would have a lot to say, preferably arguing back to Yoongi that it could be an endless fight. This has to end. 

Yeonseok is barely in pain, holding himself bravely though as he straightens himself and stares at Yoongi before he moves it at you. “Fuck both of you.”

He storms out of the apartment, leaving not only a mess on Yoongi's kitchen floor and face, but in your heart too. 

You're met with a warning glare the moment you press a little too hard. Though, the man in front of you remains silent as none of you dare to speak up. The cake is long forgotten, destined to be thrown away like most things in your life. Besides the blood still covering Yoongi's floor – even if it's just a few droplets – you've moved to his bathroom to take care of his wounds.

He argued not to but you insisted, throwing him a warning glare that made him agree.

“Are you okay?” he speaks up, breaking the silence as you toss away the disinfected cotton wool into the bin.

“Do I seem okay?” you question him, “What were you thinking, Yoongi?” you scold him, frowning once again as he opens his mouth before his own frown settles on his back then calm face. 

“What was I thinking? I'm not the one who barged in here to pick up a fight.”

“You provoked him to hit you, don't tell me otherwise.”

“I won't let him speak to me or to you that way in my home.”

That's a valid point. 

Yet you can't stop thinking that all of this could've been avoided if he just wouldn't provoke him. 

“Yeonseok is not violent, he wouldn't have hit you if you kept your mouth shut.”

“So I'm the bad guy here?” Yoongi exclaims, closing his eyes as he rubs his forehead for a second. “He had it coming and I don't regret it.”

“Yoongi–”

“No. Maybe you're okay with him slutshaming and disrespecting you, but I'm not. I'm not gonna stand there and run his mouth just because he's a fucking pussy.”

“I'm not saying–I get that. But you literally pull on his infertility. That wasn't fair nor nice, Yoongi.”

Yoongi sighs, staring at the ceiling to calm himself down. “That might be right. Wasn't exactly fair, but at that moment I didn't care. And looking at it now, I don't care now either.”

You stare at him in disappointment and sadness, leaning yourself against the sink as you hug yourself with your shaky arms. 

Yoongi watches you, gaze softening. “I'm not perfect either, Y/N. I'm far from it actually.”

“I'm not okay with what he said either. But you don't see me hitting him.”

“He hit me first.”

“Yes, because you provoked him to. And you fucking know it!”

Yoongi stares before an amused smirk makes it on his face. 

“Don't fucking look so pleased!” 

He laughs, shaking his head before his smile slowly drops and you're met with soft eyes again. 

“He would've left if we just–I don't know–but I'm sure there could've been no violence. He's hurt, Yoongi. I left him because I was no longer happy in that marriage. He's heartbroken.”

“Are you making excuses for him?”

“No!” you automatically argue.

“Sure sounds like it.” Yoongi scoffs.

You groan, rubbing the side of your face in frustration. 

“You're here scolding me and raising your voice when he came here and insulted not just me, but you too. And you're still trying to understand him?”

“It's because I know why he feels like that! It doesn't mean it's right! This could've gone so differently–and you just kept going. I told you guys to stop–but you ignored me and provoked him–” You stop yourself, staring at Yoongi who just stands in the middle of his bathroom watching you silently. His brows lift up causing you to sigh in defeat. “I'm sorry. I'm taking it out on you because you're here.”

Yoongi stays silent for a moment, letting you drown in your frustration and regret. His point is proven, he has nothing else to say. 

“Obviously I know he's not right either. What he did was stupid–he already came here angry and to see me here–” You sigh, sniffling a little as you turn around to grip the sink. You breathe through the urge to cry and break in front of Yoongi. “I know we talked about this but I should've never come here. This would not happen if I wasn't here.”

“Stop,” he stops you. Lifting up your gaze, you meet his eyes in the reflection of his mirror. “It's not your fault he acted like an asshole.”

“Yoongi, but in a way I provoked him too by coming here. By staying here.”

“That's messed up to think that,” he still argues back. “You know why you came here. Come on, we talked about this. Stop putting more blame onto yourself. He doesn't do it and you shouldn't either.”

“Because I know what I am saying is the truth.”

“It's your truth,” Yoongi points out, walking closer to you. “Know what I'm sayin'?”

You sniffle, “No.”

He laughs silently, eyes crinkling at the ends as his teeth are on full display. He turns you around by gently gripping onto your shoulder. You're stubborn, not wanting to face him as he nudges your chin to look up at him. His thumbs brushes underneath your eyes, preventing the tears sliding down your cheeks. 

“You know, you're just stubborn.” he muses amusingly and softly, just like his sound is. “Now I'm going to wipe the mess in the kitchen and will make us some tea.”

You stare at him in disbelief, seeing him taking a few steps away from you. He turns his back to you, ready to walk out. But he stops in his tracks. 

“And Y/N?”

You look at him with watery eyes. 

“Don't think of running away.”

It's a simple sentence, a tiny bit teasing on his part and you barely manage to break a smile. He does not stay for any longer, taking care of the mess in his kitchen just like he said he would.

When you join him, you see him wiping the last remains of your husband's blood before his kitchen is just as new. Yoongi tells you to sit on the couch and turn on a movie. You don't argue even though watching a movie is the last thing on your wishlist. He joins you shortly after. The bundt cake sliced neatly on a plate, accompanied with two cups of tea. He munches on the cake throughout the movie, even offers you to eat but you shake your head at him, declining his offer. 

He manages to eat all the slices, handing you a blanket when he sees you hugging yourself. 

“Yoongi?” you speak silently throughout the movie. 

“Hm?” 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

The side of your face pressed against the couch, you stare up at him. “For everything.”

“Are you getting sentimental for me?” he muses, turning it into fun and you realize, you prefer it that way. It loosens up the entire moment and situation, even if just a little bit.

“No, just thankful. I know it sounded like I blamed you, it was wrong of me. You were just here and I let my frustration out on you.”

He smiles, shaking his head as if silently telling you to let it go. “I told you I'm not perfect. I am to be blamed for a lot of things. But I don't regret it.”

“Even if your knuckles are cracked?”

A silent laugh comes from the side. “They're not fully cracked but yeah, even then.”

For the first time after the fight, you let a laugh out of yourself as well.

“Come on, you should go to bed. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”

“Talk about it?” you question, swallowing down a yawn that wants to let out. He's right. You're tired and should go to bed. 

“The clothes, you need to get them. I will go with you.”

You sit up, hair a little bit ruffled which makes Yoongi stifle back a laugh. “You will? You sure?”

“Yeah, I don't mind.” 

He doesn't tell you that he doesn't want you to interact with Yeonseok, just in case he's there. Considering how shaken up you're from their interaction earlier, and yours too, you shouldn't go through that alone. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You've been through a lot while carrying a fucking human inside of you. That shit is mental.

He makes it sound easy, so easy that you just as easily agree and stand up to move to the bedroom. You linger at the edge of the couch, thinking about still having to change your clothes and take a quick shower. 

“It's probably weird, especially after Yeonseok's outburst but you should sleep in the bedroom tonight as well.”

“Don't listen to him,” he says simply, “But are you sure though?”

“Yeah, I don't mind.” you repeat his earlier words, smiling at it which causes him to chuckle at your slight teasing. 

“Fine, my back will thank you tomorrow.”

Laughing, you retrieve to the bedroom to get your sleeping clothes that consist of Yoongi's oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. God, you really need your own clothes.

While you're in the shower, Yoongi lets the movie continue without actually paying any attention to it. His knuckles slightly burn, the skin there trying to heal. A side of his jaw hurts but knowing Yeonseok's in a worse state makes it better. It's a little bit childish, he admits that but that asshole deserved it. He thinks he can just punch him and not expect a punch back? 

His parents would curse the shit out of him. Regardless if Yeonseok was the first one to attack, Yoongi would be painted as the one that's violent because he fought back. Fuck. He can already hear their potential words so clearly.

You shouldn't have fought back.

It's your fault he's angry.

They've always seen him in a bad light. Partly, he doesn't blame them. He's always been more controversial and wild than his brother. The thing is it wasn't accepted in the family and was approached with a massive hit of criticism and negativity. Partly, Yoongi blames them for how he turned out. 

Reaching for his phone, he dials Jimin's number without a second thought. He had enough time to think this through and know that he promised something, he can't change it. He would look like a total asshole. Plus, he doesn't want to change it. Somehow, you've grown to like him. It's embarrassing to admit, but seeing you in such a poor state makes him pity you. You would hate him for these thoughts, that much he knows. 

“Bro, it's like night.” Jimin accepts the call with a scolding tone.

“I need you to take tomorrow's appointments.”

“Why? Are you okay?” he asks immediately, tone changing to a confused one. Yoongi has never canceled any of his appointments. A part of keeping his business good and professional, he always dedicated all of his time there. He's not surprised by Jimin's confusion.

“Yeah, I just have some errands to run and I won't be able to be there for a whole day.” He gives a brief explanation, not giving any details. 

It's not like he doesn't want to share. Even though he's not a sharing type and keeps stuff to himself, he doesn't see any point in sharing a huge portion of your mess that is called life. It just doesn't seem fair at all.

“Dude, everyone's gonna be mad. They want you, you know that!” Jimin argues, panicking which is understandable. 

Yoongi doesn't brag about it, but he knows most clients come to him for their tattoos specifically. Everyone in his team is good, he doesn't doubt it. But even they know how some people come to the studio specifically for Yoongi. 

“I can't reschedule them, I'm fully packed.”

“Duh, I know that! What are you even doing Yoongi?”

“None of your business,” Yoongi answers calmly and casually, causing his friend to groan loudly into the receiver. “Just do it. If they don't wanna get tattooed, just give them back their deposit. Or reschedule their appointments, though they might wait months.”

“This better be worth it.” He hears him mumble.

“It's a family emergency.” It's the only explanation Yoongi offers him.

“Family? You don't care about your family.” Jimin points out the obvious, causing Yoongi to purse his lips slightly offended. 

It's not like he doesn't care about them. Sure, he seems like it but it's not exactly the truth. He doesn't blame Jimin for thinking it though. He made it seem and obvious as if he doesn't care about them. In some fucked up twisted way, he does. 

“Thanks, I owe you.” Yoongi ignores his previous words, not putting them any more attention than he already did by listening to them. 

“You bet…” Jimin mutters under his breath, not having enough time to complain as his kind friend ends the call with that.

Later after he takes a shower while you're already in bed, he joins you. He thinks you're asleep but by the sound of your breathing and fidgeting, you're still awake.

“Can't sleep?”

You flinch a little, probably surprised by his sudden voice and the fact he's aware of you being awake. “It's the baby.”

“Is something wrong?” Yoongi asks right away without thinking of it. He lays back, clearing his throat as he stares at the plain ceiling instead. The entire bedroom is swallowed in darkness, letting only moonlight in. He has noticed you prefer sleeping that way and he doesn't have the heart to close curtains. 

“No,” you giggle, “She's just moving a lot. Sometimes even kicks me.”

“She… she does?” Yoongi asks, unsure. He has zero knowledge about babies. Let alone how it properly works inside a woman's uterus. It's pretty laughable because he's that clueless.

“Yeah, probably won't let me sleep for a while.”

“What a brat.” Yoongi mutters and you gasp, elbowing his side as he cackles at you. 

“You did not just say that,” you exclaim, offended as he continues to laugh silently under his breath. “She's been an active baby lately.” 

You've no idea why you're even telling him that. Something just wants you to fill up the sentence. You and him don't talk about the baby a lot. It seems like a taboo topic for understandable reasons and that's solely for not making it too weird.

Yoongi's quiet and while your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, you can clearly see him fully awake with eyes open, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. You turn to your side, hissing when you feel a light kick in your ribs coming from inside.

“What are you thinking about?”

He doesn't look like he wants to answer, something holding him back. But then he probably seems awkward enough so he swallows, shrugging.

“My mom always said I moved a lot and shit like that. You know–like when she was pregnant.”

The hint of something that has been secretive but very obvious to you from the start causes your breath to catch in your throat. You've never openly talked about the baby being biologically Yoongi's. It's not something you can forget and despite not talking about it, you've been thinking about it almost all the time.

“Oh…”

“Yeah…” he mutters. “Is that weird shit to say?”

“It's not weird,” you assure him softly. Kind of. “I actually find it interesting. If it… if it was a stranger I probably wouldn't know these things.”

“Forget about it, I was just babbling. It just reminded me of that when you said…”

“It's okay, Yoongi.” You laugh at that, feeling his embarrassment. It's practically seeping from him. “Thank you for that. I mean–I'm grateful for that information. Is that a weird thing to say?”

“No, unless we make it weird.” he states, voice different from the usual laid back Yoongi you know. It's kind of cute.

“Okay, let's not make it weird. Let's talk about something else.”

“Talk? You should sleep.”

“I can't when she's moving around so much.” you argue.

It's silent for a moment.

“Does… does it hurt?”

“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “But not so much yet. It probably will get worse once she's bigger.”

“God, why do women go through that?” he mumbles, causing you to snort.

“If your mother didn't go through that, you wouldn't be here.”

“What a lovely life that would be.” he hums thoughtlessly, while you choke back onto your laughter.

“Don't say that!” you scold him. “None of us have asked to be here.” 

“True.”

Again, a little awkward silence is shared between you. Well, you're not sure it's purely awkward but you're both fully awake, not ready to fall asleep just yet. You don't know about Yoongi but…

You groan when the little baby growing inside you starts to move around again. You caress your stomach, feeling as if she has a hiccup. “I think she has a hiccup.”

He probably doesn't care, but you share that thought out loud. 

“You can feel that?” He sounds confused.

“Yeah,” you nod. “You wanna feel it?”

He stays silent. And for a second, you're sure you've crossed a line and he will just go backwards, distancing from you and the entire situation. 

Indeed, Yoongi feels a little awkward about your question. He has distanced himself, not wanting to admit the fact that you're indeed carrying a baby he helped conceive. It's a weird shit to think about. He can't think about it because it automatically makes him feel uncomfortable. He never had a plan to stay in contact with you. 

He would never imagine sharing a bed with you, unless it was for a sex. And you had lots of it. Maybe not as much as he wanted but still. 

If he knew you would be laying in his bed pregnant, he would probably never agree to this. As bad as it sounds. 

This scares him.

But then he thinks of you and your perspective. He has no idea what your thoughts are, well some of them. But something about your innocent and sweet tone makes him rethink. You're here, after an awful day, not crying like he has expected you to do. He sees the light in your tone, one that's caused by the baby growing inside you. You're trying to be friendly, having just as friendly a conversation and Yoongi realizes – he's that for you. 

A friend. 

You need a friend. You've no one else to talk about it, not currently at least. You've distanced yourself from everyone else for understandable reasons, and he can relate to that.

“Won't that be awkward?” he questions. 

“Not unless you make it to be.” you hit him back with his own words, the fact causing his mouth to twitch. 

“Okay, sure. It's a one time experience anyway.”

You snort, “You make it sound as if you won't ever meet a pregnant lady.”

“I've met a few but never had an urge to touch their belly. That shit's weird.”

Giggling, you shake your head at him. “Maybe in the future, you will.”

“Future?” he asks, completely confused. 

“Maybe if you're gonna have a wife or a girlfriend.” you say, slightly unsure of this topic. Is it okay for you to talk about this? Either way, it's too late to not answer his question anyway. 

After all, this specific topic shouldn't be weird.

“I don't want kids,” he informs you, carefully but sternly at the same time. “So that's not happening.”

Sighing, you don't argue about that. If he accidentally gets someone pregnant, he won't be able to control that aspect but you don't remind him of that. He seems stubborn and determined about this opinion of his. And you respect it.

It's silly and you shouldn't have the right to feel this way, but you feel slightly saddened that he's so keen on telling you he doesn't want kids. Even though you've known that for a long time. It's a reminder that he does not want to have anything to do with the baby inside you. It's nothing new but somehow that thought still doesn't sit with you well. 

Instead, you swallow all those feelings and take the duvet off your body. 

“Whatever,” you murmur nonchalantly. “Give me your hand.”

He does, without question. You try not to think about how warm and big his hand feels. You ignore the little fluttering butterflies that set in the pit of your stomach and inside your chest. Your baby is not to be blamed for. 

You move his hand on your stomach but not before pulling up your shirt. You're starting to feel too warm anyway. This way he'll be able to tell the movements more clearly. 

“You feel it?” you ask, holding his hand as soon as it's placed over your swollen stomach.

“No? I ain't feel shit.”

You giggle, “You're an ass.” 

But then, a sudden kick is sent next to Yoongi's hand. It wasn't a direct move under his palm but he had to feel it regardless. A surprised Oh makes it out of his mouth.

“That's so weird,” he mumbles thoughtfully. 

Then she continues again, her little movements more recognizable and becoming slowly familiar to the man laying next to you. 

“She's so active.”

“She is,” you hum, slowly letting go of his hands. He lets it rest there for a moment, taking the cue as he pulls it away slowly. “Could let me sleep now though.” You try to play it cool and calm down your racing heart. 

Pulling the shirt back down and covering yourself with the duvet, you're trying to act cool like before. 

“Wow,” Yoongi says, taken back. “It's weird to think there's another person inside you.”

“Tell me something about it,” you chuckle. “I've wanted to get pregnant for a long time. But nothing could've prepared me for the way it feels. It's weird, I can't describe it.”

He surely can't understand what you're talking about. You don't want him to. You just let your thoughts run free. Some part of you wants to confess those thoughts to Yoongi. Another weird thing to say, but he's like a safe place in a twisted way. You can be honest, even though you're slightly sheepish about it. You can confide in him.

You think he has no idea what he means to you. And even if it's just for a certain time being, you're grateful for it regardless. 

Before you know it, the movements stop and you're finally allowed the tiredness to come in. You slowly drift to sleep, clueless to Yoongi being fully awake as he stares at the ceiling with the weirdest feeling all over his body. 

It's not as if morning is any better. Surprisingly, you haven't had that much trouble sleeping and you barely woke up. Yeonseok hasn't haunted you in your dreams either, which made it more enjoyable and comfortable. You were too exhausted last night, so a good sleep made it better for you to see today's morning in a better light. 

Yoongi's still asleep, his alarm hasn't ringed yet and you wondered if you should wake him up. Maybe he forgot to set up his alarm, but something tells you that's very unlikely. 

After you've washed your face and teeth, you decided to give him a few minutes and will try to wake him in case he has really slept in. However, the aftermath of yesterday's events and your good sleep, a cause of your positivism, doesn't last too long when your phone rings. 

At first, you don't think much of it. Your father calls you from time to time, he has to when you suddenly go silent. Using busyness as a great excuse when you've been anything but that. He doesn't know that which makes the lie more believable. 

As you get to hear his raspy voice again, you expect him to start the same way.

How are you? 

Why haven't you called?

But none of that comes as he sounds nothing but concerned, even a little skeptic.

“Y/N, is everything okay with you?”

That alone should alarm you and it does, but you remain cool and voice your confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn't I be?”

“Don't lie. What's happening there?”

He doesn't sound upset, he sounds more worried than anything else. “What do you mean? I'm fine.”

“Really? Because Yeonseok called us yesterday, well today, he kept saying something about you sleeping with his brother?”

You freeze, shame washing over you like the coldest bucket of ice.

“Is that true?”

“Dad, I promise you–It's nothing like that.” 

Perfect. Thanks Yeonseok a lot.

“He was also wasted, could barely talk. Called us like two in the morning.”

Sighing, you sit down as you grip your phone tighter. It seems like you can't have a rest for at least one day. Everything keeps biting you in your ass when you think things are getting better. It fucking sucks. 

“We're going through a rough patch right now.”

“And you broke up with him?”

“I–technically yes but it wasn't like that. I promise you, it's nothing like that.” you telling, aiming at Yeonseok's accusation that might not be a complete lie but you know how it sounds. 

“Then how is it?”

“Dad, I really don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry Yeonseok woke you and Barbara,” you say, mentioning his longtime girlfriend who's like your step-mom. You know she's just as worried. You're surprised she's not the one that called. “He has a hard time dealing with our break-up.”

“He said you're staying at his brother's, is that true?”

One thing about your father is that he never really got into your business. If he was curious or even nosy, he never let it known because he respected everyone's space and privacy. So to have him question you like this means he's truly worried and the call he received from your still husband has made him alarmed. 

“Yes–”

“So it's true? Y/N, have you cheated on him?”

“God, no!” You exclaim loudly, taking a deep breath as you release it in a form of loud sigh. Technically you haven't. “I haven't cheated on anyone. Look, it's really complicated. I had nowhere else to go.”

“Nowhere else to go? You could've come here.”

You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes. “I know but I didn't wanna bother you with our issues. Yoongi is familiar with it, so I just decided to come here. It's just for a few nights, I will figure it out. Don't worry.”

“How can I not worry when I found out from my son-in-law that you're not living at home? And that you live with his brother instead?”

“He's not exactly the perfect husband you have him for, dad.”

“What do you mean by that? Did he hurt you?”

“Not like that,” You shake your head. “I had a share on it too. None of us are innocent. Look, all you have to know for now is that I'm okay. I need to figure this out on my own. You've nothing to worry about.”

“You can't just tell me you live somewhere else with Yeonseok's brother, and tell me not to worry!”

“Listen, dad. I love you but I'm very close to hanging up. I understand you're worried but you're not exactly helping me with freaking out. I told you I'm fine, so please trust your daughter instead. I'll handle it and I'll talk about it when I'm ready.”

Well, you're not sure if you should tell him the entire truth. The thought of that is embarrassing and completely uncomfortable. You're not going to tell your dad that you've slept with another man just to get pregnant. Even if Yeonseok agreed to it. 

Overall, you would spare him the details. 

“But you're pregnant. You're carrying his child. You can't just leave and not talk to him.”

“Oh, I talked to him. He's not as interested in being a father as he was.”

“What?!” He yells into the phone, causing you to cringe at his shocked and upset tone. “He said that?!”

“Along the lines,” you mumble, “Don't worry, I'm doing fine. So is your granddaughter.” 

“G-granddaughter?”

That finally gets his mind off Yeonseok. “Yes. I had it confirmed yesterday.”

He sighs, chuckling on the other line. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“Y/N–”

“Dad–please.” 

He sighs in defeat. “Okay. But promise me you'll call if you need something.”

“I always will, dad. Please don't worry.”

Eventually, you end the call. Just as your phone is being tossed onto the counter, Yoongi sleepily steps into the kitchen with bed hair and narrowed eyes. “Why were you yelling?”

“It's nothing.”

“Y/N…” Yoongi warns, narrowing his eyes through his tiredness.

“It was my dad. Yeonseok called him drunk last night.”

“Fuck,” That has him waking up as he stares you down. “What did he say?”

“That I cheated and I'm staying at your place.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Not much,” you admit, “I don't want him to worry.”

“He's a fucking idiot.”

“Yoongi…”

“No, he is.” He insists, rubbing his chest tiredly as anger twists his puffy face. He looks cute, even with the tattooed sleeve that's on full display. 

“He was drunk,” you point out. “Surely angry and upset.”

“I'm surprised he didn't run to mommy and daddy.”

“Shit,” you exclaim. “What if he did?”

“Would it matter?” Yoongi questions.

You stare at him as if he grew two heads. “Of course! What would they think of me?”

“You really care about that?”

“If he told them the story that I cheated on him with you, I do care!”

Yoongi sighs, leaning against the door frame with arms crossed over his chest. “We know it's not the truth. Not exactly. And we will explain that to them if it ever came down to it.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is,” he argues. “And there's no need for you to worry about it too much, alright?”

You give him Really? Look.

“If he called your dad, I really doubt he got our parents involved. Knowing them, they would call or barge in here right away.”

“You think?”

“Oh, I know.” he hums. “So don't worry and get yourself ready.”

That's right. You're supposed to get your clothes today. But you thought it'll be later on, probably when he gets back from work or over his lunchtime. You just need to get your things. It shouldn't take too long. 

“Are you not going to work today?”

“No, I have a day off.”

“Really? You never mentioned anything about having a day off.” you wonder, staring at him straightening himself as he stretches his arms, shrugging.

“Didn't think it's important.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “What if he's there?”

Yoongi watches you for a moment, “That's why I'm going with you.”

“I think that will piss him even more if he sees you there.”

“Should I not come?”

You shake your head, “That's not what I meant. I just–I don't know what's right or not anymore.”

“It's true, maybe he wouldn't get so angry but there's no guarantee he won't get verbal again. I just don't think you should go through that alone.”

Something about his words make your chest warm, an appreciative smile beaming on your lips but you shake yourself out of it as a smirk replaces it. “Are you starting to care about me?”

What you get in return is a mixture of a chuckle and smirk. “I'm serious, Y/N,” he says, more seriously. “I'm going just in case he needs another punch.”

“Please, don't say that.” Your smile drops. 

“I can't promise anything but I'll try to be on my best behavior.”

“Somehow, that doesn't go along with you.” you tell him with suspicious eyes as he smirks. 

“You're gonna have to wait and see.”

“No fights.” you warn him, lifting up your finger at him to make yourself clear. 

“Okay, mom.”

“Ew.” you cringe, walking past him but not before slapping his chest. “Keep it down.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

You walk back into the bedroom, to change your clothes and get yourself ready with an unbelievable smile on your face. You fight the sheets neat and made, a fresh air filling the bedroom that has become too familiar to you. 

With a lighter feeling in your chest, you prepare yourself for what's about to come.

[sonderessence]

What abt a

e42 miles x spiteful blk fem spider reader

so what if miles (1610) cheated on reader with gwen (😒..) and to get revenge on him for cheating on reader with.. gwendolyn.., we get with his earth 42 self!

(if you could make this a series i would literally cry of joy.)

Angst for 1610 Miles (IM SORRY I LOVE YOU POOKIE😭☹️☹️🩷)

Fluff and Romance for 42 Miles (🤭🩷)

DONT HIT MY LINE! ...

1610!MILES & 42!MILES X READER!

WARNINGS: vulgar laguage (cursing), ✦ CONTAINS: 1610!miles being a bitch!!

a/n: imma be honest, i am such a gwen slander after the movie (still love her tho) 😒 but i so love this idea !!

layout inspo/creds: @hiimayee the best miles fic writer!! :3

NOW PLAYING: I HATE U - SZA

part one. ✦ part two ✦ part three

your boyfriend 1610!miles had been acting strange since he saw gwen after all these years, but you just shrugged it off as him being happy his friend was back in his dimension.

you never thought that your suspensions were true when you found your now ex with his "friend" behind your back.

you looked around the predominantly empty library in search of your boyfriend miles, who was nowhere to be seen. it was highly unlikely for him to be late to anything.

maybe something was last-minute? you would go ask his mother, rio, since you go to her for everything in the more frequent months since miles had been acting — odd — but you doubt she would know since her and her husband were out of town.

grabbing the pile of books you and miles you used to study for the test you knew you were going to fail, you scurried your way you the hushed library.

the sky was temperate, the perfect temperature for the park you thought, smelling the fresh, cool air — but focus! miles has to be somewhere around campus. you stuffed your books it your bag and made your way to his dorm, maybe he was still asleep?

you made your way to his dorm and softly knocked on his door, careful not to wake him. there was no answer. "miles?" you called to the door. again, no answer.

you pulled out your phone from your bag and went to his contacts. maybe he was sick or just skipped school? you had fussed at him the week prior to get more sleep, since he always came knocking at your window to late at night.

wait, should you call him? he's probably busy. and with that thought, you put your phone back in your bag and made your way to the morales house. it wasn't far from the school you two attended, so getting there wasn't a problem.

you knocked on the front door, once, twice. where is he? "miles!! you home??" you heard footsteps from the other side and the door opened to see miles who looked like he was in a rush. his hair everywhere and shirt backwards.

"hey! you okay?" you asked, your voice laced with concern for the boy.

"yeah." he said, his voice coming out hoarse. he cleared his throught. "m'fine, wassup?"

"you were s'posed to meet up with me at the library." you meant to sound playful, but your words came out more of a scoff. "look," he started. "i just forgot."

"forgot?? miles, you could have texted me! i was fuckin' worried about you!" you were furious, crossing your arms with a frown. "you done?" he asked with an eyebrow raised — you could see the twinge on annoyance in his eyes and you could hear it in his tone. "am i done?" you scoffed "are you done running off and not checking up on people??"

he didnt know how to answer that. "look, i'm hella busy right now, we can do the study thing or whateva later." he pinched the bridge of his nose. "fine." you muttered as you walked out the door.

a/n: how we feelin' about the first chapter?? i might have gone all out but part two is otw!

TAGS: @kazustqrzz, @kxllanxtdoor ( the tags are being annoying 😒)

©bachirasegoist, 2023 — do not steal or copy works

[eternalmoonlight18]

...Love Won't End (pt. 2 of Maybe this Time)

Akagami no Shanks x afab!Reader

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

synopsis: reunited with him once more, Shanks offers an agreement with you; to stay with him and his crew for a month and once the month was done and you still didn't want to stay, he agreed let go of you forever. but of course, you couldn't help but stay by his side.

cw: sfw, childhood friends to lovers trope! fear of abandonment, fluff and a bit of angst. BASICALLY TWO IDIOTS IN LOVE

a/n: i went on a crazy writer's high and whipped this up in two hours. enjoy! again, this isn't proofread lol

wc: 5.3k

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

It’s been a week since you boarded the Red Force against your will.

Technically, the one man you swore you’d never see again kidnapped (saved) you from impending doom. You were not happy about it at all.

Every day you would try to escape by whatever means. From jumping overboard, sneaking away in a getaway boat, to even calling the Marines on the Red-Haired’s crew, all attempts were futile in the end because somehow, the man or one of his crew members managed to find out your plans.

You swear that Shanks could see into the future by the way he managed to intervene with every attempt you made.

And now, he once again thwarted your plans to escape as you found yourself pinned up against the door of Shanks’ room. His one good hand was gripping over your two hands above your head as he cheekily grinned down at you as you helplessly struggled to get out of the compromising position he put you in. The knife that was in your right hand clattered to the floor in front of you as the red-haired man gripped onto your wrist tighter as he realized you were trying to escape from him again.

“Come on (Y/n), really? Trying to stab me while I’m takin’ nap?” he chided.

"Let me off of your fucking ship Red Haired." you scowled. You shot a deadly glare up him but the man simply chuckled at your attempt to threaten him.

"I told you, you're not going anywhere sweets." he teased.

Unhappy with the nickname he used, you sneered and used your right leg to kick him in his crotch. But of course, he shifted his body to his left and avoided your assault on his family jewels.

"I have a proposition for you," he said, ignoring the fact that you just tried to kick his manhood.

"I don't want to hear it," you growled.

"Stay with me for at least a month." he pleaded.

The tension in your body deflated in surprise. "Last time I checked, you left me alone in the rain and told me to get away from you." you lowly said.

"And I'm here now to make up for that stupid mistake I made that day," he whispered as he let go of your wrists.

The scowl that once adorned your face softened to a vulnerable expression. "I don't have time for the past, I have somewhere to be," you lied.

Shanks gently smiled at you. "And somehow I don't believe that. You were being chased by those pirates for three days."

"Wait a minute, how did you know- Hey! Were you following me for three days before you decided to be my knight in shining armour?!" you yelled at him, pointing a finger to his face.

"You caught me." he laughed while holding his hand up in defeat.

Having enough of the conversation you were having with him, you proceeded to walk away. However, you ran into the sturdy chest of your childhood friend as he somehow made his way in front of you.

"Just hear me out (Y/n). Just stay with me for a month. You have nowhere else to be, so why not stay at my ship and my crew? If you decide that you officially want to be a part of my crew after one month, I'd be happy to welcome you. But if not, I'll drop you off wherever you want." he proposed.

You looked up at him with skepticism. "And why do you want me a part of your crew? All of you have monstrous strength compared to me, if anything I'd just be an anchor." you reasoned out.

Shanks places his hand on your shoulder. "You doubt yourself too much. We were both in Captain Roger's crew remember? You're a great fighter." he reassured you.

The redhead observed your face. It had an unreadable expression, but your eyes told him that you were unsure and a bit fearful of his sudden reappearance in your life.

"Tell me Red-Haired, why did you suddenly decide to reappear in my life fifteen years later?" you asked him.

The atmosphere of the ship suddenly became thick with tension. A pregnant silence overtook as Shanks tried to find the answer to your questions. Then, his eyes softened as he bore his eyes at you once more.

"Remember that promise we made that night when we watched the shooting stars together? I decided it was time that I kept that promise," he admitted.

As much as you wanted to hate Shanks and to hold onto that grudge you had when he left you, you couldn't help but give in to his words. You genuinely missed him after fifteen years of no contact. He sounded so sincere, vulnerable and honest, which is a rare sight to behold, especially since he was one of the most feared pirates on the seas.

You sighed. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to be under a powerful and infamous crew like yours. It would give me some sort of immunity. You got yourself a deal, I'll stay with you for a month, but after that month is over, drop me off at Loguetown." you declared.

A large smile broke out on Shanks' face. "You mean it?" he asked with excitement.

"Don't make me regret my decision Red-Haired." you joked.

Unable to contain his happiness, he engulfed you in a hug.

"I'm so glad that you're back in my life." he sighed. As he pulled away from the hug, he noticed a light blush appeared on your cheeks.

"Whatever," you muttered as you scratched your cheek.

"Also, you haven't said my name at all this entire time." he pointed out.

"It's because you don't deserve to hear your name come out of my mouth." you scoffed as you folded your arms.

The grown man in front of you pouted. "Awww, come on! I thought we were friends again!" he whined.

You snickered as you started to walk past him. "You just might earn that right if you make it up to me before I leave Red-Haired." you teased as you started to walk away.

Shanks chuckled. As he turned around to watch your form walk up to the deck, he sighed dreamily.

"I won't let you go this time (Y/n), I'll make sure of it." he confided as he started to follow you.

--------------------

The first week since you made your agreement with Shanks, you managed to make your place within the Red Hair Pirates. Everybody knew that you and Shanks were childhood friends, and with that knowledge, they constantly bombarded you with questions about what their captain was like in his youth.

This night, it was no different. The crew docked at a remote island and partied well into the night. As most of the crew were passed out drunk or asleep at the sandy beaches of the island, Benn Beckham, Yassop, Lucky Roux, Limejuice and Hongo were sitting around the campfire with you. You were telling them the story of when you and Shanks pranked Silvers Rayleigh as kids.

"I'm telling you! Captain Roger had to hold back Rayleigh from throwing Red-Haired and me overboard once he found we stuffed his gun with paper!" you giggled as you took a swig of beer from the bottle. The men hollered in laughter.

"Cap't was sure a mischievous one as a young'n!" Lucky Roux laughed as he proceeded to take another bite from his stick of meat.

"He never changed, he is still the same immature man." Benn sighed as he also took another swig of beer.

The laughter died down as the fire crackled its flames into the clear night.

"Say (Y/n)," Hongo began, "You were so hostile towards the captain last week. I'm pretty sure that childhood friends don't try to kill each other."

"More like she tried to kill him," Yasopp muttered.

"Did captain do something to offend you?" Limejuice asked you.

The men were met with silence as you stared at the bottle in your hand. For a minute the only things that could be heard were the quiet crackling of the campfire and the crickets singing through the night air.

"It was the day Captain Roger was executed. Emotions were high, the crew was separated and-" You paused to take a big gulp of beer then continued, "He just left me. We promised that we wouldn't abandon each other, but that day, for the first time in my life, I was all alone." you confessed to the senior officers of the crew.

Another uncomfortable silence filled the air as the heaviness of your confession weighed upon the men who were listening. Quiet shuffling could be heard as the silence continued to prolong.

"He can be an asshole at times," Benn sighed, finally breaking the silence. "But I'm sure he had his reasons for doing that."

"But that's unacceptable! Leaving her like that!" Yassop exclaimed.

Lucky Roux let out a laugh, "What the fuck do you know about that?! You literally left your wife and kid!"

"Do NOT go there ya big jug of lard!" the sharpshooter snapped back.

The bizarre argument made you laugh. "Guys it's okay! I'm okay now. I guess you're right Benn. Maybe he did have his reasons. But it doesn't excuse his behaviour towards me. However, I will give him a chance to make it up to me." you smiled as you swished the golden liquid in the bottle.

"I feel that Captain isn't just going to make it up to you (Y/n), isn't that right Limejuice?" Hongo nudged his crewmate.

"Yeah, I think Captain has some sort of feelings towards ya!" Limejuice piqued up.

The men started to hoot and whistle. You scoffed, taking a deep gulp of the liquor. "Y'all are idiots, Red-Hair and I are just friends that's all."

"Sure, but I ain't never seen the Captain stalk a woman for three days." Yasopp teased.

"And he stares at you all the time." Lucky Roux added on.

"Alright ya meatheads, stop pressin' the lass' buttons." Benn chided the men. "I'm sure Shanks was just glad to have you back."

"Yeah,"  you said, giving a soft smile to the second mate.

Somehow, the idea of Shanks harbouring feelings towards you didn't bother you at all. You recalled the time when the two of you were ten years old and he gave you a daisy during the Day of Love. The two of you were young, not knowing what romantic love was, but somehow the red-haired boy made your heart flutter for the first time that day. Now that you were all grown up, that feeling never went away, even after all that happened between you and him.

Your train of thought was suddenly disrupted as you felt a hand on your back. Jumping up in surprise, you swung the empty bottle in your hand as it connected to a bed of red hair.

"Woah! I thought we agreed that you weren't going to kill me?" A deep voice shouted in surprise. You turn your head to see that you smashed the beer bottle on top of Shanks' head.

"You idiot! Don't sneak up behind me like that!" you exclaimed as you shoved him away.

Everyone started to laugh while the captain made his way into the campfire circle and sat between you and Benn. "I heard that you were all talking about me!" Shanks spoke.

"(Y/n) was just telling us stories about when you were a young'n on Roger's crew!" Yasopp said back.

"I hope you didn't tell any embarrassing stories about me sweets, I have a reputation to uphold here," Shanks said to you with a light grin.

"Well, I did tell them about the time when you stuffed Rayleigh's gun with paper." you whistled.

"Dahahaha!" he laughed as he put his right arm around you.

The men watched in amusement as you and Shanks continued to tease one another. They started speaking amongst themselves, placing bets on whether their captain was going to confess before the one-month agreement ended. The laughter started to fill the air once more as you gradually warmed up to the red-haired captain once more.

----------------

As the second week with Shanks' crew rolled in, you found yourself working alongside with Hongo, assisting him in the infirmary. Your skills as a former apprentice of Crocus, the doctor of the Roger Pirates, shone through as you helped the sick and injured crew members. While you expected the less powerful members to visit the infirmary often, you were puzzled about why Shanks was making his way to you for the third day in a row.

"Hi doc, I'm injured again." he greeted you as he sat himself down on the infirmary bed.

"Red-Haired. What's your excuse again?" you said as you stood in front of him, with hands on your hips.

The man pointed at the scar on his eye. "It's throbbing again," he complained. A small grin appeared on his lips as he watched you roll your eyes.

"You said that yesterday, and the day before you dolt. At this point, I'm convinced you're just making up excuses to see me." you sighed as you proceeded to put some healing cream on his scar.

"Mmmm, you got me there sweets," Shanks confessed to you. He continued to hum as he watched your fingers smear medicinal cream around his eyes.

His warm brown eyes followed your face and hand as you worked. As your hands lightly touched his face once more, he felt his heart pick up in speed. You moved your face closer to his, not noticing that the man in front of you was intently looking into your eyes. Shanks' breath started to hitch as he observed your face, wanting to grab it and kiss you senselessly, but he held himself back, not wanting to scare you away from him.

After a few seconds, you noticed that you were close to Shanks' face, and suddenly drew away from him. You felt your cheeks heat up while you turned away to place the medicinal cream back in the drawers. The red-haired man chuckled, seeing that you were flustered.

"Can't handle a handsome face?" he teased you in a sing-songlike voice.

Not turning around, you stuck your middle finger up with your left hand. Shanks simply chuckled.

"Don't try your luck Red-Haired. Your flirty attitude might work with other men and ladies, but not me." you shot at him as you finally turned around to face your friend once more.

"And what makes you think that I flirt a lot?" he questioned.

"I know you very well and your attitude never changed since you were a youth smartass," you replied, patting his right cheek with playfulness. But as you were drawing your hand away, Shanks held your left hand against his cheek.

"Mmmm, I guess you're right (Y/n). Nothing about me changed, especially how I feel." he drawled as he leaned against your hand.

The infirmary suddenly felt unbearingly hot. You felt yourself heat up even more. Your feet were frozen in place, and as much as you wanted to move, you found yourself stuck in place as Shanks affectionately held your hand in place. You desperately wanted to speak out, but no voice came out of your mouth. The room became so hot that you felt you were going to pass out from shock until you heard the infirmary door slam open.

You and Shanks turn your heads to see Hongo at the door, blankly staring at the two of you. You rapidly pulled your hand away as soon as you felt the grip on your hand loosening, rushed past Hongo and quickly left the room. You leaned up against the wall next to the infirmary door and took a deep breath.

"Hongo! What brings you here?" the red-haired captain exclaimed, completely brushing off the scenario he was caught in.

The ship's doctor warily squinted at Shanks. "What the hell were you and (Y/n) doing in my infirmary?" he groaned as he went to grab some supplies from the drawer.

"Well, you saw us having a moment until you rudely interrupted us," he spoke as he hopped off the bed.

"Ugh, don't bring that yucky romance shit into my infirmary captain." Hongo moaned in disgust. The captain let out a cackle as he made his way out of the infirmary. The doctor followed suit and nodded his head at you to follow him.

As you meekly followed Hongo out, you looked back and saw Shanks smirking at you. You quickly whipped your head away and bowed down in embarrassment as you continued to walk away.

Gripping onto your chest, you felt your heart pound. You wished the next three weeks would go by faster so you could leave the wretched ship.

----------------

On the third week of the agreement, you found yourself drunk and laying back first on Red Force's deck. Shanks decided to throw another party because Dracule Mihawk decided to come on board for the night. Of course, you had too much to drink and now you were drifting off to sleep on the floor next to Lucky Roux until you felt heavy boots make their way toward you. Slightly lifting your head, you look up to see Hawkeyes gazing down at you.

"Heyyyyyy Mihawk." you slurred as you dropped your head down back to the floor.

"(Y/n). I reckon you need a hand up?" he coolly responded. You nodded in response.

A right hand stuck up to your face and you grabbed it with your left hand as you hoisted yourself up. Once you were on your feet, you lost your balance and stumbled forward until you felt someone catch you. Raising your head, you bore your eyes on golden yellow ones. You soundlessly stabilized your footing and smiled at your saviour.

"Thank youuuu for catching me Hawkeyes. You're always a gentleman to the ladiesss." you giggled.

The swordsman sighed. "You are anything but ladylike right now (Y/n).

You wagged your index finger up to his face. "Alas, you caught me before I fell." you tutted. "Now, follow me!" Grabbing onto his sleeve, you dragged the helpless swordsman to the railing of the ship and threw yourself over. You almost fell towards the sea but Mihawk grabbed onto your shoulder and pulled you back.

"Are you always this careless when you're drunk?" he questioned as he glanced down at your drunken form hanging on the ledge.

"Only sometimes." you faintly responded with your head still hanging down the ledge. The gravity forced you to wretch and you threw up into the sea. Once you let the contents out of your system, you hoisted yourself back up and leaned against the railing. Turning your head to your left, your eyes bore into Mihawk's once more. You knew of the swordsman, but you never held a full conversation with him, until now.

"So why are you staying with Shanks and his crew?" he asked, breaking the silence. "You haven't seen him in fifteen years and now suddenly I hear that you've been staying with him for almost a month."

"Well," you started, "We're friends again!" you announced loudly. Your voice was loud, but not loud enough as the passed-out crew continued to snore away.

"Is that so? Interesting. So your grudge against him is gone I assume?" he smoothly asked as his eyes looked out to the sea in front of him.

"How did you know about my grudge?" you jabbered.

"Your red-haired friend told me everything a while ago. He's awfully chattery when he's drunk." the swordsman responded.

Your hands slapped against the railing of the ship with annoyance. "That stupid man can't keep his mouth shut at all," you whined.

Mihawk turned his head back to you. "I'm curious about your relationship with Shanks, what is he to you?" he inquired.

"Well aren't you a nosey bird," you remarked. "But if you must know, Red-Haired is my childhood friend. He's trying to suck up to me so that I don't leave him anymore and to be honest, it's working too well."

"Interesting. What else?" Mihawk asked as he placed his hand on his chin.

You sat down with your back against the rail as you continued to speak. "I missed him a lot, so I was really happy when he proposed for me to stay aboard for a month. He said I could stay forever if I wanted to, but I don't know if I can," you explained. The swordsman remained silent and you took it as a sign to continue.

"He doesn't know this, but I always harboured a place for him in my heart. He broke it the day he abandoned me and now that he showed up out of nowhere fifteen years later kind of scares me. I want to stay, but what if he leaves again? I can't handle going through that pain anymore." you choked.

Mihawk simply hummed. "Well, that is quite the dilemma."

"Indeed it is." you agreed. Your mouth opened to continue, but you slumped over, falling asleep from the liquor. But before your head could hit the ground, Shanks suddenly appeared next to you and lightly held the side of your head. The red-haired captain proceeded to carry you up bridal style as he faced the guest of his ship.

"I was wondering where you went. I see you've been getting friendly with her." Shanks quipped, his tone slightly laced with contempt.

Mihawk glanced at Shanks with amusement dancing in his golden eyes. "I was simply making conversation. You piqued my interest in her since our last conversation. No need to get hostile over her. I am simply interested in how this interesting woman has such an influence on you." he coolly said.

Shanks chuckled and held your sleeping body closer to him. He looked down at your sleeping form with affectionate eyes. "I heard everything she said, and I gotta thank you. My resolve is now solid with knowing how she feels about me." he sighed.

Hawkeyes raised his eyebrows at his friend. "She's still afraid you know. After all, abandonment is not an easy thing to get over with."

Shanks deeply sighed. "I know. I realized that I was foolish to leave her like that. I guess the realization that the pirate's life is dangerous hit me when Captain Roger was executed, and I was afraid of (Y/n) going through the same fate. Now I know that I should've just kept my promise to her."

Mihawk started to walk down the ship and hopped onto his small coffin boat. "Well, you better make the right choice now. I look forward to hearing how this ends," he said.

The redhead glanced down at his friend sailing away from the Red Force. After watching the boat sail away for a few minutes, he proceeded to make his way into the ship, with you in his arms. He had made up his mind; he would finally let you know how he felt before you left.

--------------------

It was the day before you were going to be dropped off at Loguetown, and Shanks has been avoiding you all week. You were annoyed and a little sad since you thought you rekindled your relationship with him. He brought himself closer to you the day after the party with Mihawk, and you let him as your heart slowly opened up to him once more. Your fear of losing Shanks again started to fade away, but the anxiety started to come back. You told yourself that it was just like you wanted in the first place, and by tomorrow, you would be off on your own once again, just like Shanks promised. But the small voice in the back of your head kept nudging you to stay.

It was now nighttime at the Grand Line, and it was a windy, but calm night. The sky was clear and littered with stars, and the sea gently swayed with the breeze. You were perched up at the crow's nest as sleep hadn't hit you yet. With your back leaning up against the post of the nest, you gazed into the sky, reminiscing the times you would stargaze on the Oro Jackson as a child. As you closed your eyes, you heard creaking and footsteps made their way up to you. Turning your head to the sound, you found Shanks standing and looking at you with an unreadable expression. Flashing a small smile his way, you nodded in acknowledgement as the red-haired captain made his way and sat beside you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, looking up at the sky until a single shooting star made its streak across the dark sky.

You gasped as you suddenly stood up and made your way to the railing of the nest. Shanks slowly got up and made his way beside you. A small smile adorned his lips as he began to speak. "I feel like I'm living through a moment of Deja vu right now." he chuckled.

The sky started to light up as more shooting stars started to fall.

"Yeah, how can I forget that day?" you quietly said with your eyes still trained forward to the sea and sky. You hadn't noticed that Shanks was looking at you the whole time.

You moved closer to Shanks, now standing side to side as you continued to watch the scene in front of you. A deep sigh escaped your chest as you subconsciously leaned your head into his right arm.

"I wish I could stay like this forever." you sighed. Glancing up, you bore your eyes into Shanks' brown ones as he looked down at you.

"You don't need to wish for that anymore you know," he whispered to you. He leaned his head down to yours but you drew your head away from his arms as you faced the man you desperately wanted to love.

"Shanks, why were you avoiding me all week?" you asked him.

A smile briefly appeared on his lips as he realized that you said his name in the four weeks that you stayed with him, but it fell as he also realized that he was avoiding you all week. The hurt in your eyes squeezed his heart.

"I'm sorry (Y/n). I hadn't realized that I was avoiding you. Truthfully, I guess I was just diverting my attention away from the fact you're going soon." he confessed.

"Ah, so he accepted the fact I was going to go for good." you thought as a sad smile adorned your lips.

"I guess it's for the better right? I mean, what good is it for me to stay here? Don't get me wrong I truly enjoyed my time here with you and the crew but..." you paused with a sigh.

Shanks brought his right hand up to your cheek and gently caressed it. "Please don't hide around the bush anymore. I know you want to stay (Y/n)," he murmured, with his deep brown eyes looking right into your soul.

The intensity of his stare made you blush and look away. "As much as I want to, a part of me is still afraid that you're just going to leave me again. I'd rather have you drop me off like we agreed to rather than you leaving me again in the unforeseeable future." you choked up as tears were threatening to leave your glossy eyes.

The red-haired man leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. "But I came back, didn't I? I'm here now to fulfil that promise now and forever, so please don't go, not now that I have you back in my life. I know I shouldn't have left you, I was just scared that I was going to lose you just like how I lost the crew and the captain." he whimpered.

To see Shanks left in such a vulnerable state for your sake made your heart yearn and ache for him even more.

You recalled that day when you asked Shanks to stay by your side forever.

“You’ll stay by my side forever right?” you shyly and quietly asked him.

“You’re so silly (Y/n)! Of course, I’ll stay by your side. We’re best friends right?” he joyfully replied.

"Don't ever leave my side, please." he pleaded with you once more.

You drew back from him and took a good look at the man in front of you. As the stars continued to fall, the light that came and went danced upon his rugged features. The once playful glimmer in his eyes was replaced with a mix of mellow sadness and adoration, with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. A sad smile was drawn on his lips, slightly quivering as if he was going to cry at any given moment. His strands of red hair gently brushed against the wind. Reaching out to touch his hair, you gently stroked it before changing his life with a simple sentence that you told him when you were kids on that fateful night;

"You’d have to pry my dead body off of you if you want to get rid of me.” you quietly professed as tears started to fall freely down your face.

A second or two passed by before you were enveloped in a tight hug. However, that hug soon transitioned into a kiss as Shanks wrapped his strong arm around your waist and dipped down to brush his calloused lips against yours. At that same moment, the last stream of shooting stars fell through the sky in the background, lighting up the sky like it was day.

His red streams of hair bristled against your cheek as he carefully tilted his head to the left to deepen the angle of this kiss. You grabbed onto his white shirt and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss as well. You felt him breathe out into your face as he moved his lips to gently kiss you again.

After a minute, the two of you pulled away from the heated kiss and gave each other an earsplitting grin. The both of you started to laugh, and you wrapped your arms around Shanks' waist and buried your head on his chest.

"I can't believe it took us that long huh?" you giggled as you looked up at him. Your eyes twinkled as Shanks patted your head.

"I bet you won't believe what I wished for that night." he cooed.

"But you said that wishing was for kids!" you spouted.

Your lover hummed in amusement. "Well, I ended up making a wish okay?"

Pulling away from the hug, you brought both of your hands to his face and dragged him down to your eye level. "Well, what was it?" you pressed, the smile not leaving your face.

"Eighteen years ago, I fell in love with you that day we were stargazing together, and I wished for you to be my partner in this lifetime." he finally admitted, as he grabbed your left wrist towards him to kiss you once more under the starlight night sky.

[dearanakin]

"My cherie amour" - Eddie Munson x pregnant f! Reader

Summary: You tell Eddie Munson, your best friend, you're pregnant. You don't hide from him who the father is, but considering his reputation, you were better off without him. The metalhead offers you a surprising opportunity of becoming the child's father.

Warning: TOO MUCH FLUFINESS I CRIED, sex, oral sex, mention of pregnancy. 18+ MINORS DNI!!

Word count: 5.8k

next chapter

🍼🍼🍼

You were sitting on the bench in the middle of nowhere of a forest Eddie Munson made sure no one goes to.

Tapping your fingers against the table, you start to shake your legs uncontrollably as you wait for him to arrive there soon, otherwise you're gonna have a stroke from waiting.

It's been only five minutes but it feels like a lifetime and it's already making you feel nauseous. That's how you found out you got pregnant after a wild night with Billy Hargrove at a party. You started feeling nauseous and then a month later your period was late.

It couldn't be worse than that. You had too much alcohol and Billy was being kind, something he almost never is like. He was treating you nicely since he noticed you were too drunk. It kinda got into you how he managed to be a gentleman.

Even after that day, but then when you told him you were pregnant he just literally... vanished. He made sure he would never bump into you anywhere. Not at the mall, not downtown, not at any party you'd go. Max made him apologize, tried to convince him to be there for you at least. But he never even made it clear he cared about it.

The way you tried to accept this pregnancy without even knowing if you wanted it made you cry yourself to sleep every night. Until you told Nancy, she was so caring and supportive. She would call you every night before you went to bed, she would invite you to stay over so you wouldn't be by yourself.

You were too far away from your family and you actually didn't want to deal with that right now. You just didn't know how to tell them you're pregnant after fucking some douche charming at a party. You're only 18 goddammit.

Then you decided you'd tell Eddie first because he was your closest friend besides Robin and Nancy, even Steve. You knew he would definitely freak out but he would support you in a heartbeat.

You slowly explained him how you ended up sleeping with Hargrove at the party, how you didn't care you didn't wear protection, because afterwards you'd take a pill. But you didn't, because you were so hammered the next day you actually forgot about it.

He listened carefully and waited until you were finished. His first response was exactly how you thought he would react. "Holy shit. Shit! Jesus, (Y/N), you fucked Billy Hargrove?".

You were thankful there was nobody around, his high pitched words were loud. "Oh my God, that is the most irresponsible and nonsense thing you could've done". Like you didn't know that.

"No, it's just bad already that you would willingly fuck him. But not wear protection and forget about the pill?".

He was standing there walking left and right, making you dizzy. "I know that, Munson". You weren't even bothered to be offended by the way he was taking it, because you knew it more than anyone.

"And he never called you, sent a letter, anything?". You shook your head. "He didn't offer to keep it?". You shook your head again.

"Actually, Max begged him to at least be there for any appointment", but he refused to. He said he doesn't care if I keep it or not.

You were lucky you didn't hear his words straight from his mouth. You wouldn't be able to carry on with this pregnancy. But you were still fighting to make it all the way.

Eddie was still in disbelief, it was clearly a fucked up situation. He sat back on the bench and held your hand against the table, giving you a warming look.

"I know this is a crazy situation and I can't imagine how incredibly shitty you must feel because of that dickwad. But you know I'm going to be here for you throughout this. You have Nance, you have Robin and even Harrington".

His hands genuinely squeezed yours as you felt your eyes burning from the tears threatening to fall. "And you know what? Fuck it, I'll do it. Just fuck it".

He grinned, but it wasn't clear to you what he actually meant with that. "Do what, Eddie?".

"I'll take care of it. I'll be the father. What's the worst thing that could happen? I can't hold a fucking baby for life, but I'll learn". He sounds too serious and it catches your breath.

Was he being serious about that?

"Eddie, what the fuck are you talking about? This isn't a play date", he chuckled by your response, waving his hand at you as he stood up only to sit next to you.

"Sweetheart, this kid doesn't have a father. I'm not gonna let you acknowledge Hargrove as this baby's father. I'm more than happy to help you get through this", he was holding your face with both hands.

His mint gum breath was fanning against you and he looked really excited about this. You were about to cry, but you weren't sure it was because of what's been happening or because of the damn hormones.

"Oh, sweet thing. Don't cry", he holds you closer as he wraps his arms around your neck. And you start bawling your eyes out because that's how it's going every single day.

You either cry or eat when you're not working. You cry, you eat, you rest and repeat. Munson got this crazy idea out of his head and it suddenly made you feel welcomed into his world a little bit more.

He was always really caring, he was absolutely the nicest person you've ever met. He never failed to make you feel better on your worst days, he would always make you laugh when you didn't want to.

"Baby Munson is gonna be so loved", his warm voice made you giggle because he looked really excited about that.

"You're already calling this child by your name?", you shake your head as you roll your eyes. "Damn Eddie, slow down with this big ego of yours".

"Fuck yeah I am. Fuck baby Hargrove, this kid is not going to be his anyway", he responded. At some point he was right, but your child would be carrying his genes anyway.

And Max would be so happy to be an aunt anyway. She just made it clear how she's going to love and take care of the baby too.

You were feeling better than you thought you would be. Actually, you had no intention of having this conversation with Eddie for him to just offer to become a father.

Not in a million years would you think he would just do something like that without even hesitating. Fuck, he didn't even think twice about that. Hopefully he doesn't regret it though.

He took you for a walk afterwards and started making plans for the baby's trosseau, which was still weird for you. But comforting, to say the least. You know he was gonna be hanging around spreading his hand on your belly all the time.

Munson is so high up on his hype he doesn't even care this is not his. He just cares about you and your baby, he cares about you and your happiness, nothing else.

He made you sit on a park with him while he was buying pretzels for both you of you. His excuse was that you need to eat and keep the child full of food. You laughed so hard at his statement, it almost made you choke.

Eddie came back holding pretzels and a bag of popcorn, which you suddenly realized you were craving for it without even knowing. He sat in front of you, watching as you gladly take a handful of popcorn in your mouth.

This wasn't a date, you think. You would always hang out with him, go to vinyl shops and listen to music with him. You would take him with you to the mall when you wanted to buy clothes or shoes and he would go with you.

He would end up getting clothes and a shit ton of other things for himself. You and him are always having too much fun around each other, even with Robin and Steve.

"Look, I know it's hard for you to know that motherfuc- sorry, baby", he cut himself staring at your belly and it caught you off guard. "This mother fudging bastard doesn't have any interest in this. But I need you to promise me you're gonna be ok".

First you snorted out loud and smiled at him. "Eddie, just being around you and the guys will be helpful enough for me. I can figure out the rest". You were honestly too hopeless because you didn't expect Billy to be so unconcerned and cold about you.

Not when he treated you kindly that day. But you guessed it was because of the booze, or he was just really trying to get above you and get what he wanted.

Munson attempted to wipe away a trail of tear sliding down your cheek, but soon you started flooding your entire face without even noticing.

He kneeled in front of you and gave you the biggest hug he could. His clothes smelled like weed and his cologne, he was warm and his curly hair tickled your nose.

When you held on to his denim jacket he knew you needed this hug more than anything. You pressed your fingers so tightly against the fabric it was squeezing your fingertips.

"Hey, I got you sweetheart", his voice was muffled by the way it was buried in your hair. "I got you. I always got you".

You spent too long holding against him, until you realized you weren't crying anymore, and he let go of you.

He used both his big hands to wipe away your tears and booped your nose, ripping a chuckle out of your mouth.

He took you home and made sure you were doing good as you were going to be by yourself. You didn't know what kind of expression you were holding but then he decided to ask you if you wanted him to stay the night.

And then he was back in your apartment after gathering some belongings to stay over. He made sure he would sleep on the couch so you could be comfortable on your bed.

Your pleading eyes from those hormones almost begged him to lay with you. "God, those puppy eyes are are the death of me", he snorted.

The entire night you didn't wake up once, if it wasn't for your bladder that started working way more than it should. First month was going fine but now it's taking an overturn already.

You asked him to stay over the next day and he decided he would just stay there for the entire week. He stopped smoking next to you, he would leave outside and do it. He was cooking for you, he would give you a foot bath at the end of the day.

Eddie promised he would do his best to make you feel better, to make you feel more comfortable around him, because he used to be so messy in his trailer. He was doing the dishes and washing your clothes.

One day you were both watching TV and he just laid down on your growing baby bump. It was pretty small given you're still like 2 months in. But the way his head rested against your stomach made your skin shiver.

You used one of your hands to play with his hair and a few moments later, you realized he was asleep as you could hear his heavy breath. This was the first time you stopped thinking about Billy too much, you made peace with yourself when Munson was around.

He didn't let you think too much about it anyway, when you were working, he was probably doing some working outside. But when you get home, he's already there, either preparing dinner or just heating it.

Eddie made his way in the depth of your heart when he started playing songs with his acoustic guitar, his husky voice singing in a low tone as you enjoyed your view. Sometimes he would just want to sing you a lullaby before you sleep.

On a Thursday morning, you had an ultrasound appointment and he insisted he was going with you. You didn't have to say no to him because that was him being the most incredible and delicate person towards you.

When he first heard the heartbeat, he almost cursed in front of the nurse, holding back his excitement. Even if he didn't voluntarily offered to become the baby's father, he would still be too shocked and too happy to be there.

Your tears were burning your face when you heard it too, it became harder to breathe when you saw the image in front of you. It was still too early yet to know the sex, but it was fine for you.

As you got home, both holding bags from a burger shop, you sat down on the couch to finally eat something. You got so excited you wanted to buy baby stuff, you had to make a nursery room for them too. It was better to do it now, before you get heavier and can't even walk.

Eddie's eyes were so shiny, he seemed to be so happy to be a part of this schedule of your pregnancy. You finished eating and decided to watch Footloose. He wasn't the biggest fan of movies like that, but he gave in, trying to give it a shot.

"You're not going to tell me you've watched it more than once, are you?", he asked as he made himself comfortable, getting rid of his sneakers, his feet socked.

You laughed as you gave him a smirk, he shook his head. "God, I bet it's because Kevin Bacon is in it".

"Nope, John Laughlin is quite a catch", you respond and Eddie throws you a cushion.

"Who the hell is this guy?". He's the one putting the VHS on while you stretch your legs on the couch.

"I have no idea, but he's hot". The way you giggle makes him shake his head and roll his eyes again.

"You gotta do something about those hormones", Munson plays with you when he sits next to you. This time, he rubs a thumb that's wrapped with a ring against your belly and you feel your skin become numb.

Yeah, you definitely gotta do something about those fucking hormones, otherwise you'll jump on Eddie pretty soon. You shake your thoughts off when he looks at you, his chocolate puppy eyes smiling at you.

He makes his way to your chin and uses the same finger to hold it. You're thinking too fast about the possibility of just kissing him for a moment, but wouldn't that be wrong?

"What is going on in this mind of yours? You keep staring at me like that", he asks. His thumb making circles against your cheek and you flush. Goddammit, you're not even disguising it. He's still looking at you tenderly.

You get closer to his face and hold his hand against yours. Munson holds his gaze while he awaits for your response. "You really wanna know?". He nods. The only way to find out if this is the right thing to do is doing it.

So you graps his lips and slowly make your way into his mouth, your tongue sliding against his teeth as he tries to comprehend your action. Eddie fully lashes his tongue against yours, giving you a warm kiss.

You wanted to deepen it but you think it's too forward, so you stay like that for a while. He then starts to quickly move his tongue, asking permission, and you accept it, exchanging your saliva. There's an iching between your legs and you have to squeeze before it becomes worse.

You broke the kiss as you gasp for air, forcing yourself to open your eyes and look at him. Eddie is still looking at you with compassion, but he's determined to wonder why you did such thing. Before he asks, you cover your face with embarrassment.

"It's the damn hormones, I'm so sorry!", your voice is muffled and he chuckles, thinking you look adorable like that. You hear his low voice saying "hey" as you look at him. He's holding your hand gently.

"That was fucking amazing", he leaves a wet small kiss on your hand before pecking your lips quickly. You start trembling under his touch and realize you need to recover yourself before combusting.

You didn't actually get to watch the movie for the hundreth time and he never got to watch it for the first time. You spent the evening kissing each other with tenderness, he never let go of your face and never made a move on you. Because above everything, he respected you.

A week later you decided it was time to let your other friends know. Nancy was so excited, she knew Jonathan would be thrilled for you since they were planning on having a baby one day. And you know how much Steve and Robin are going to freak out, along with the other kids.

You know your baby bump is starting to show off so it's easier to just tell them now. Why else would you hold that secret from your friends anyway?

Everyone was already gathered by Nancy's house when you showed up with Eddie. He couldn't actually stop his smile from getting wider and wider, which to other people, he looked like a creep. He looked like he had a hanger in his mouth actually.

You asked him to not make a fuss about it but he just wouldn't listen, would he? He whistled with his fingers and everyone looked at your direction. Now they had your attention, you started to feel really embarrassed.

"Everyone, this gang is about to welcome a freaking baby!", he said it naturally and everyone inside the room shouted "what" in unisson. Nancy was trying to hold back a laugh and Jonathan seemed pretty impressed. But other than that, the others were all shocked.

"You got (Y/N) pregnant?", Steve had a high pitched voice when he asked. You laughed so hard at the way everyone else just looked at you.

"No, but better me than Billy Hargrove", you punch his shoulder so hard he flinches. "What was that for?"

"You what?", Robin was the one yelling now. "Wait, sit down. Congratulations, honey! But shit, Billy Hargrove?".

You're so lost into all the buzz you don't know where to start. Then you take a deep breath and explain what actually happened. Max is still disappointed at her brother, but she was so happy she was about to become an aunt.

"Holy fucki-", Dustin opened his mouth but Eddie cut him off.

"We're not cursing in front of the baby!", everyone just snorted and threw cushions towards him.

"Jesus, (Y/N). You know Hargrove was always a dickhead", Steve is the one saying it, but he looks at Max. She shrugs her shoulders, she knows he's not the best catch. "How could you just fuck that guy?".

"Again, not cursing in front of a child", Eddie was playful this time and Harrington was not in the mood for that, apparently.

You made sure you wouldn't cry about it anymore. You tell them you were mad drunk and didn't remember about the pill the day after. And the day after that, it just slipped from your head. The way they reacted when Max said he didn't care about it made you feel warm.

They all made sure you were better off without him anyway, otherwise he would probably make your life miserable. And then, enters Eddie Munson.

"You just offered to be the father? Like out of nowhere?", Mike asks while the metalhead still holds a grin on his face. It might give him cramps on his cheek from smiling too much. He nods and holds you by your side, rubbing his spread hand on your belly.

"This little peanut is going to be a freaking Munson!", you rolls your eyes at his statement.

"Easy with the ego Eddie, it only gets your name if we're married". You barely finish saying it and he's already on his knees for you.

You hear everybody in the room complain about his suggestion and you snort.

"God's sake Eddie. You're such a babygirl", Jonathan jokes and he doesn't care about the mocking.

"I'm not marrying you Eddie. Or at least not yet". You're still feeling your stomach sore from laughing too much at the whole situation.

"I don't care, I'm going to get you either way". He crashes his lips against yours in front of your friends and they all make different sounds. You're amused by this, but you're still confused about your relationship with him.

You and your friends enjoy the evening listening to music, eating and playing games. They all make sure you get the priority as the pregnant one and Dustin starts thinking about names for the baby. It's so sweet to see the kids talking to your belly, mocking each other and joking around.

From the corner of your eyes, you see how Eddie can't stop staring at you, he's holding a kind gaze towards you as you smile to the kids. Max is completely melted when she talks to the baby, using her index finger to poke you slightly.

When you're next to Steve, he starts joking about the fact he can lend you movies for free now. He says he wishes he was still working at Scoops Ahoy so he could give the child all the free ice cream, for as much as it wanted and it melts you.

Munson straightens his torso when he sees the way Harrington is slipping his hand up and down your stomach, his face too close to your skin as you feel his breath fanning it. He watches as you hold your head back to laugh at something he just said.

Suddenly he feels like he could be the one to do that to you, but then he realizes he's been the one doing that for the past few days. He watches the way you hold your belly without noticing when you're talking to someone else, the way you're glowing when you talk about your pregnancy.

He can't help but smile at himself, knowing he's a part of that glow. He's not doing it because he feels bad for you, he's doing it because he loves and cares for you, maybe more so than you know.

After that kiss he's started to think about the way you've been treating each other. You've been spending so much time together it only made him feel more attached to you. By now, he's experiencing a sudden jealously looking at Steve. You don't even touch him, you just sit there and watch him talk to your belly.

Robin comes closer to you and kisses your entire stomach, she smushes your belly and you hold her head. She's being so ridiculously sweet it's irritading, in a very good way, because you just loved her so much.

The entire night you were being spoiled by everyone, even Mike was being less quiet as he would just chat with your belly. You know you were going to be sore from laughing at the way Henderson was treating you all the time, the way he was chatting with your stomach and how he would just respond back like the baby was talking to him.

You were picking some slice of pizza in the kitchen as Eddie approached you, leaning against the kitchen island. He watched as you heated the food, waiting by the microwave.

"This is amazing, right?", you ask as you lean next to him.

"Yeah, their pizza is so good I could eat it in one bite!". He knows you're not talking about the pizza but can't not joke about that. "You should see yourself. You're literally glowing".

The microwave beeps but you're in a whole other world now. He catches one stray of your hair pulling it behind your ear and your skin burns against his touch. You can't help but wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head on the crook of his neck.

You love how he smells like weed and cologne, a slight scent of alcohol in his breath makes you dizzy. You're looking up because you're shorter than him, nuzzling his nose.

"Thank you for being so wonderful to me, my cherie amour", he's feeling like he's under a spell when you say that. You always call him like that when your angry or when you're sarcastic to him.

He gives you a sudden kiss, pecking your lips slowly. Eddie makes a trail of kisses on your cheeks, rubbing the tip of his nose on your ear, where he knows you feel like jelly. He breathes out and you shiver.

He chuckles against your ear because he sure knows how to tame you. The microwave beeps again and you break the contact, leaving him behind.

"You're too fucking sneaky, Munson", you grab your plate and you give him a threatful look.

"Honey, you just cursed in front of the baby!", he mocked you and received a hand towel you tried to throw against his face in response.

You couldn't control yourself after that moment with him. You kept creating different scenarios in your head where you end up in bed with him, because that's just how you were feeling. It was undeniable to admit you were feeling things for him, not just because of your pregnancy, obviously.

You decided to hold your thoughts about him when you came back home, but the entire drive he would slip one hand on your thigh and slightly squeeze it. He would look away from the streets to charmingly smile at you.

You don't hold yourself back when you get home, when you watch him changing clothes in your bedroom you make your way to him and just take your clothes off behind him. Eddie only then notices that you're undressing when he turns over and watches you staring at him.

There's lust in your eyes and an indescribable expression he couldn't figure out just yet. It was the first time he was honestly seeing you in your lingerie and God, he fucking loves it. The way your baby bump accents with the thin waistband of your underwear around your hip makes him lightheaded.

He grabs you by the neck with one hand using the other one to grip your waist, tightly against his caloused fingertips from playing too much guitar. You moan against his lips and you feel his boxer tighten from the growing bulge. You wrap your fingers in a handful of his hair and hear him groan from the pleasure it gives him.

He gently lays you down on your bed and spreads kisses on your inner thigh, slowly pulling away your lingerie. He doesn't look at you at first, but when he does, you watch his pupils dilated as his eyes flicker when he licks your delicate skin.

You purr when he leaves a wet trace close to your folds and his cock twitches as you gasp when his tongue finally savor your core. He keeps a low pace because he wants to feel every inch of you in his mouth, he makes his way to your entrance and slowly tongue fuck you, watching with bliss the way you pull his hair by your hands.

Munson is glad he's on his knees by the bed, otherwise he would become numb from his view, watching as your baby bump rises when you arch your back.

He raises one hand to tangle his fingers with yours and licks you widely. In one sweet motion on your clit he gets to make you whine his name and he needs to take his cock out of his boxer.

God, he's tasting your folds and it's just so sweet he can't get enough of it. He listens to you hissing when he sucks your skin raw and pulls back, your throbbing clit flickers against his mouth and he feels your entrance soaking from pleasure.

Eddie mumbles against your core and you can't help but cry his name. "Oh, Eddie", he works his tongue faster this time, using the tip to play with your sensitive clit. You're so horny you already feel the heat building up so fast into your body you have to squeeze your legs, closing them around his head.

He notices your action and starts leaving a huge amount of kisses on your stomach, enveloping you with kindness, he's never getting tired of cherishing you and your bump.

He manages to unhook your bra with one hand and smirks when you roll your eyes at him, smiling. Eddie opens the drawer of his nightstand and grabs a condom. He knows it's not necessary but he wants to make this the right way with you.

He kneeling above you after getting rid of his underwear and you're fascinated by how pretty his cock is. The tip is already crying with precum, warming himself up while looking at you. He holds the protection in front of him as he's about to mock you in the sweetest way.

"I know we don't need it but", he shakes the plastic as he shows you the latex. "This is a condom. We use it for protection so we don't get pregnant".

You're so annoyed with him but his voice is deep as he places the material on his tip. "See, kid, your mommy probably didn't know about its existance. When you're here, please make sure you learn about it's significance".

He said as he rolls the protection on his length, the way you're soaking for him now is unbearable. You're still repeating the way he says "mommy" over and over again in your head and you almost miss it when he places his tip in your entrance.

He sucumbs into you so slowly it sends shivers through your entire body and you hiss at him. He leans forward to kiss you gently but you can't stop your moans against his mouth.

He pushes further into you and holds your hip tightly. You grip both his arms as you try to look at him, enjoying the moment.

"Can you talk dirty to me?", you ask suddenly. It just rolls out of your mouth. Eddie is static for a moment because he wasn't expecting it.

"I mean, I can try. You heard before, I am a babygirl", he says as he thrusts into you, hitting your cervix, and you cry. He feels his cock twitch by the sound you make and groans back. "Fuck, you're taking me so well".

You started to feel dizzy by his words, he leaned closer to your ear and you trembled under him. He deepened inside you and rolled his hips against you, making you whine in his ear. "Mommy is such a good girl for daddy".

Munson isn't really one of dirty talking, but he realizes you have a kink and you're so into it, you're probably going to cum soon. He just keeps listening to your blissful slurs as he keeps pumping you, his thick length is rubbing against your wall so deliciously.

"Fuck, you're so horny, huh? You're hungry for me, aren't you?", he sped up and you squinted your eyes, taking him enterily, swallowing his throbbing cock.

You nod but this isn't enough for him, he wants words. He wants you to whisper against his ear. He wants to make sure you're desperate for his cock. When he grabs your jawline and make you look at him, Eddie gives you a lustful kiss, his tongue quickly scraping yours. His mouth open as he moans against you.

"I didn't hear you before, honey", he demands through your lips. "You're fucking hungry for me, aren't you?". It's so vicious you just wanted to listen to him talking to you like that all night.

"Yes, Eddie", you were barely breathing as you feel your climax reaching its highest point. You're gonna come for him like you have never come before, because being pregnant made you feel every sensation to it's maximum.

"God, you're coming already. So wet, you're dripping sweetheart", he couldn't stop grunting on your ear and it made you squeeze your walls so tight against his dick he couldn't hold a gasp.

You started shuddering when you felt a shockwave of pleasure take up your entire body, your veins pumping your blood so fast you almost fainted under him. Your legs were so weak they fell on the sheets as Munson watched you fall apart in front of him.

As you gasp for air and try to catch a breath, you stare at the brown eyed man who's still pumping you, reaching his own climax. Eddie doesn't get too far from you and he gushes inside the condom, his dick throbs wonderfully inside you. He scrapes your lower lip against his teeth as he makes his final thrusts before he laid on you.

You take a few minutes to recover from the madness you've experienced, while Eddie cleaned himself up. He made his way to his side of the bedroom and spooned you, resting one hand on your baby bump again.

"Should we make this thing official? I'm not gonna lie here, I would love to live every moment like this with you. And I know it's mad forward, but this has been such an amazing week", he said as he leaned his head on the crook of your neck, smelling your scent.

"I would love to, too. But don't get too excited, the kid doesn't get your name yet. And you cursed A LOT during sex", you turn your head to face him and he's looking at you like he's about to defend himself.

"You asked me to talk dirty to you!", you chuckle at his response and he rubs your stomach. "I'm sorry, kid. Sorry, daddy will promise he's keeping it just G next time".

You can't help but kiss him all over as he pinches your sides, tickling you until you beg him to stop. For the next hour, you lie in bed, cuddling, dialoging about how you're taking this relationship to the next step.

Before you fall asleep, you realize how just his warmth makes you feel safe around him. You realize your baby is going to have a better father than it was supposed to. You're just glad you didn't give up on it before telling him the truth.

[fastlikealambo]

The third wife of rhaenyra targaryen.|| rhaenyra targaryen x black!fem reader

In the five years since Queen Rhaenyra The Conqueror, Bringer of New Valyria, triumphed over the usurper without losing a single dragon, the realm is at peace. Having no need of husbands and taking two other wives, Queen Alicent and Queen Mysaria, the dragon queen is in need of a third and final wife to rule the seven kingdoms at her side.

You were just a girl from nowhere, watching the sky fill with dragons at peace, destined to be a scullery maid in a vicious household and the future wife of a ratcatcher until fate and blood decide your future for you. 

History will remember Rhaenyra Targaryen as the great unifier, the second coming of Visenya Targaryen who brought another golden age of dragons out of war. But they will sing songs of you, the smallfolk who ascended to fire and blood as the queen’s favorite, the one they tried to kill so many times, the third wife of rhaenyra targaryen.

Some notes: Aegon, Aemond, and Daemon are dead but their dragons were saved, and Otto Hightower and Criston Cole spontaneously combusted, I don’t know what to tell yall. Luke lived, Jace lived, Helaena lived, Jaehaerys lived, Baela and Rhaena are happy goddammit.  During the short war, Rhaenyra married Mysaria and one year after the dance of dragons ended, she also married Alicent.

Some other notes: This is dark and I drew some inspiration from Cinderella and Hurrem Sultan (the fictional representation of her from the show's magnificent century but nobody I know watches that show). Rhaenyra is in her thirties and reader is in her twenties. 

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

Chapter Three.

This chapter contains smut, MINORS DNI

Chapter Four: Hunger.

 Your mother held you so tight you felt like you were going to break in two.

       “I thought they were taking me to your body, not the keep itself. You left on foot this morning and before nightfall here comes a carriage picking me up, a carriage! What have you been up to, my girl? I’ll have the truth out of you and nothing else, queen or not.”

Confessing to murder is best done sitting between your mother’s legs as she oils your scalp and pulls your braids back into a bun. She doesn’t even falter once you get to the murder, just kisses the top of your head.

   “I’ve known you before you knew you which means I know you don’t go around hurting anyone. If it wasn’t you it would have been someone else, that fancy lady has half of the flea bottom girls working for her until she avoids them or worse when she can’t pay them, you’re just the first to do something about it.”

  “Why are you so calm?” You asked. Your mother sighed and took a seat on the floor next to you, an arm around your shoulder.

  “The idea of me going without had you stand before the dragon queen and win a place at her side. In a matter of hours, you’ve taken your life back from that monster and now you’re to be the wife of Queen Rhaenyra. The Gods have had a hand in these proceedings my love, but you have shaped them.”

   “What happens now?”

   “Now, we live. Not survive, live.”

In the chambers of The Small Council, the dragon queen’s grip tightened on Dark Sister, her patience tested by the two remaining men at her table. 

       “The Great Houses expected you to take one of their daughters, Your Grace.  They will not take lightly to being slighted and raising up a common girl.”

      “And what, exactly, is wrong about being common?” Mysaria asked with a rueful smile in Rhaenyra’s direction.  Rhaenyra reached under the table and rubbed Mysaria’s thigh, giving the men fifteen seconds too many.

       “The smallfolk are still recovering from the war. We are at peace but they are still in need of the crown’s help. We shall give it by feeding them, giving them shelter, and by raising up one of their own. Should the other houses take issue, they need only be reminded of the knee they bent and whom they serve. In fact, as your last acts on my council, you will go to them and refresh their memory on why they do not rest on a bed of ashes.” Rhaenyra said.

   “Your Grace if I may-

   “ You may not, Ser Alfred and as your last act, you will join him. You are both dismissed.”

The chambers emptied after that and Rhaenyra took Mysaria onto her lap, kissing the back of her neck, kneading her breast with one hand and the other..busy.

     “Shall I report on what I have found on your bride or would you like to continue, Your Grace?” Mysaria asked.

Rhaenyra removed the ringed fingers from within her mistress of whispers, sucking on them one by one.

    “And what has my star found?”

Mysaria shifted on Rhaenyra’s lap, wrapping her legs around the dragon queen.

  “She worked at a cabbage stall as a child till she learned to sew. Got kicked out her first household at seven for sneaking and listening to the daughter’s lessons so she could learn to read and write so her overtired mother wouldn’t have to worry about teaching her. She’s taken any work she can find since then to keep her mother safe and fed. Her last employer, a destitute Lannister lady was found dead but none of it leads to her.”

     “And what do you think of her?” Rhaenyra asked, kissing up and down Mysaria’s neck.

  “I think she is untested and tenderhearted but will do anything to keep her mother alive. She can be molded, motivated, and a far better seat on the council than Ser Alfred. Most importantly, she has known hunger. That sort of pain never leaves your eyes, and she’ll do anything to never know it again.”

 “And do you think she can be trusted?”

  “Do you trust her?” Mysaria posed the question right back at her wife, leaning back to look Rhaenyra in the eye.

  “I believe that I can and would rather see her at our side than someone whose house would use them to try and usurp me. She will be raised up and those that disagree will be met with fire and blood.”

Mysaria kissed her queen softly and slowly, sucking on her top lip.

  “Then we shall crown her for all to see.”

Dinner would be served soon yet Rhaenyra found herself outside your door, about to knock when she heard you swearing on the old gods and the new.  Swinging open the door, Rhaenyra found you contorting yourself in an attempt to do the laces on the back of the extravagant gown you had been gifted.

 The blood red sparkled against your dark skin and Rhaenyra could not look away.

“Oh no, am I late, Your Grace? I’m so sorry-“

“You will be a queen in two days time, apologies at every turn will be beneath you. Come, let me help you.” Rhaenyra said, holding out her hand towards you. You took it, standing in front of the mirror as she adjusted your smallclothes better to fit beneath the ornate gown.

 “May I ask you a question, Rhaenyra?”

 “You can ask me anything you like.”

“Why do they call you The Bringer of New Valyria?”

Rhaenyra did not falter from her work doing up the tiny laces of the gown, tightening them slowly.

  “Since I sat the throne I’ve started to rebuild King’s Landing to better fit its people using the gold seized during the blockade to restore the keep and homes in King’s Landing. Those who do not particularly like what I’m doing have called King’s Landing ‘New Valyria’ as if to doom it before it begins in full to scorn me, but I welcome it.” Rhaenyra explained, deft fingers moving along your back.

Once finished, you turned around to face her with a smile.

“How do I look?” You asked and couldn’t stop yourself from giving a small spin that brought a laugh to her lips.

 “Every inch a queen.” Rhaenyra said and you watched as the smile shifted from content to ravenous.

The dragon queen was beneath the gown she had taken the time to put on in seconds, tongue to your clit, lapping you up like fresh milk.

 “My queen, we’ll be late for dinner.” You managed to choke out but Rhaenyra simply kissed you.

“I’m the protector of the realm, we shall dine when I wish to dine, sweet one.” 

 You let yourself go, kissing the queen back roughly, ripping at her bodice and the laces of her own gown, gracing her skin with kisses from nose to navel. She leveraged her weight against you and you both fell onto your new bed.

  To make love to Rhaenyra Targaryen was a holy act, therefore you would sit upon her face and pray. The dragonrider welcomed your weight without complaint, mouth to your pussy with honor and such precision you held onto the headboard like reins.

With her hands on your thighs, you came quick and hard, letting the queen up for air, crawling down her body till your head was between her legs, alternating between tongue and fingers, pumping in and out till Rhaenyra’s back arched.

You never did make it to dinner.

Nor did you break your fast the following morning with the queen in your bed again, again, and again.

But bliss ended quickly for on the following day, the day you were to wed Rhaenyra, it began to rain. 

Hope you liked this chapter! Please comment or reblog so I know if I should continue :)

@asvterias

@nxcxllxsevens

@newcaptainofsquad9

@awolfcsworld

@wannabwanted

@evattude

[writersblockedx]

Something Inappropriate: Chapter Two

Read Chapter One here

Pairing - Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - When Y/n's becomes endangered and has nowhere else to go, Spencer is the only one who can offer her the security she needs. Warnings - Panic attack, mentions of a past toxic relationship, stalking, some violence words - 2.3K

A/n - If you have any requests please put some in my ask box, I'm running out of ideas but I am obsessed with this man.

Masterlist

The morning after was one brought with embarrassment and regret. Y/n hadn't expected to get so drunk that her behavioural analysis professor was the one taking her back home, his hand at her waist, guiding her from his own car almost to her room. It was a memory she wished she could choose to forget. Alas, Monday morning rolled around quicker than she wanted.

Her first lecture was on victimology with the one and only Doctor Spencer Reid. And that morning was the first morning she didn't take one of the seats in the front row. Rather, she hid herself between fellow students and kept her head down. What she hadn't been aware of however, was the fact Spencer had been watching her from the moment she wandered into the lecture hall.

The truth was, the man had grown worrisome once he left the girl. She was an intoxicated young woman - there was a scary amount of danger which came with that. He knew so, he had seen it, he had seen so many bodies that were exactly like Y/n.

When an hour passed and students began filtering out of the lecture hall, Y/n found that the time to give the man an explanation - along with an array of apologises. Having her professor walk her home drunk certainly wasn't her finest moment.

The girl drew towards the desk where he was seated at the front, watching carefully at the other students who were paying no attention as they left. "Hi," Her voice was barely even a whisper.

But Spencer had offered her a smile which assured her that he hadn't any negative feelings from Friday night. He stood from his desk, "How are you feeling? I hope you had gotten enough sleep Friday."

She returned the smile. But her's was weak in comparison, "I certainly didn't wake up early Saturday." A moment passed and the man clocked the way she was checking the people around her as the very last students dawdled out the lecture hall. "I erm- thank you for what you did, you didn't have to but well, I'm glad you did."

"Any of your professors have a responsibility for your well-being and care, I'm sure any one of them would have done the same." But that was just it - they wouldn't have.

This was more than that. "It's not just that," She swallowed and double-checked they were alone. "I erm- I have this ex-boyfriend you see...scary, aggressive." Y/n's voice was beginning to shake; this wasn't a topic on which she was keen to speak about. "Even still, I mean it's been almost six months. He's determined to get to me, anyway he can. Friday night was my first night out since I left him. It's why I didn't go with the others to the club. He's well, risky and I have to be careful." Spencer had been listening ever so intently, his eyes pooling with sympathy from the moment she started opening up.

And then she shrugged as if what she had just said was nothing, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, had I walked home alone last night and he- he knew, well..." She didn't want to finish her sentence, nor did she have to.

Spencer understood. In the sense that he had hunted stalkers and resentful exes. He knew how they thought and more importantly, he knew how the victims felt. He knew exactly what she was going through. Now more than ever, he was relieved that he had taken her home. Before now, he wondered whether it had been inappropriate. But now he had reason for his actions.

"If anything ever happens, with him or anyone, anything, I'm always here." He assured with the tug of a grin.

She nodded, "Thank you, sir." She awkwardly crossed her arms over her stomach, barely able to meet the man's eyes. "You truly don't know the help you gave me that night."

"Always."

And them words echoed throughout her mind.

The professor was not only smart but kind. Far too kind. The way he spoke to her, the offer of support, it had made her heart weak. And for the rest of that month, she had spent it at the front row, asking for extra help on her essay, anything she could do. And maybe it wasn't just about needing support with her academics, but also finding security in someone. Something of which she had never really had. Especially after him.

It was just expected something was going to kick off. A week prior to the incident, Y/n had several facebook messages all from different accounts from her dreaded ex-boyfriend. All of which she had blocked. But they kept coming. Every morning she would grasp her phone, finding another request, another thread of messages. All of which were blocked, ignored, and tried to erase from her memory.

And then, on what seemed like the first day of Summer, it happened.

She was sat outside a bar with a couple of friends, drink in hand, giggling at something her male friend, Zack, had said. Everything was bliss. Drinks, conversation, friends. It was almost too perfect.

And then the ex-boyfriend wandered over. He had noticed Y/n from afar, storming over, yelling and anger forced from his lips. It had all happened in a flash. Zack stood to Y/n's defence. The next thing that happened, he had a bruised eye. Everyone was yelling. But he, the ex, he was yelling at her.

A punch.

A slap.

A scream.

It was all to quick for Y/n to keep up with. Things escalated and actions were chased. Not one of them were thinking things through. And when everything was all over, when one of the bartenders at the venue dragged the man away, Y/n could barely move. Tears were spilling from her eye line, pooling down her face. And when the chorus of 'are you okays' followed, she couldn't move her lips.

"I should walk you home," Offered one of close friends.

But even after the girl had registered her words, her head shook, "No, no I can't." One thing about this certain ex-boyfriend was that he hadn't never gone quietly. Too many times than she could keep count of, the man knocked on her door, found her in college, even a couple of times went knocking at her friend's houses and accommodation.

She couldn't go home - she couldn't go anywhere.

And then, her mind ran back to the most recent place in which she had felt safe: Doctor Spencer Reid. She swallowed and sniffled at her fallen tears, "I'll message you later," She told her group.

Zack, who had been nursing an early bruised eye, spoke first, "Where are you going to go?" He questioned as the concern for his friend was written over his tone.

"To get some help," She replied with the weakest smile she could muster. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," She gave them each a glance before turning her back. She didn't dare stay at that bar, she didn't dare go home, but she wanted somewhere safe. And that some place just happened to be a certain professor.

Y/n weaved through the college. Though with the time and the weather, it was practically empty. A few faculty members whom gave her a second glance when they caught the sight of her tears. And when she finally reached Doctor Spencer Reid's office, she didn't even bother knocking. Luckily, he was alone, grading papers and creating lesson plans. But at the sound of his door clicking open, his head lifted. Within a millisecond, his expression moulded into one of utter distress and worry.

He stood from his chair, watching as the flood gates opened from her pupils. "Y/n," He spoke her name like it was a prayer. "What- what happened?"A gentle hand reached out to her shoulder before he gestured for the girl to take a seat at the leather couch which faced his desk.

The girl followed him, not yet able to get breath out - never mind words. Her tears trailed down her cheeks as Spencer returned to the couch with her, a tissue in his hand, "Here," He gazed over her, attempting to try and find any suggestion to what might have happened. "Hey, you need to try slow down your breathing, in for four, out for six, okay?" He soothed, "I'll do it with you."

Y/n watched Spencer's chest a he gulped in a breath, holding it and then letting the air slowly exit his lungs. She followed along. And while it was a struggle at first, slowly, her breathing calmed and her tears dried. "That feel better?" The man questioned.

She nodded, "Yeah, yeah," The girl could only mumble. "Thank you."

"Of course, I used to have panic attacks at work sometimes," He admitted before standing, grasping a bottle of water from his wooden desk and handing it over to her. "You don't have to tell me, but if something happened, I'd like to know."

For a moment, her eyes fluttered away, finding the floor more interesting than he. She at least needed to explain to him why she had turned up at his office in such a state - it wasn't as if he didn't know the background anyway. "You remember that ex boyfriend I told you about?" Spencer nodded in understanding; it was almost like that was all he needed to know. "He spotted me in a beer garden with some friends and well...he snapped. I couldn't- I didn't-"

The man watched as her breath itched like she was unable to catch up with it once again, "It's okay," He calmed as his hand fell atop of her's. The girl's eyes shot up at the movement, to his skin falling over her own. It was supportive, she told herself. "Take your time."

And she did. A minute or so had passed and, when she felt ready, she continued to explain: "It happened so quick, I couldn't do anything but watch." She swallowed the lump which had grown harsh in her throat. "He knows where I live, he knows my friends, he knows everything." She wanted to point out how he didn't know Spencer but chose not to. "That's why I came here...I didn't have anywhere else." She explained.

Spencer was taking it all in. He glanced at her and he realised this sudden need to keep her safe, to protect her. The man tried to excuse that as his teaching duty, but this was more. She was more. "You know you can always come to me when you ever have any concerns." He reassured. "It's what I'm here for, and, personally, I believe you should talk to the student wellbeing team, they have the connections that will keep you safe." That's who should protect her - not him.

But Y/n's response suggested that wasn't an option, "Trust me I tried last year, they tried too, went to the police and anything - ironically enough." She scoffed ever so slightly as she leant back onto Spencer's couch, "They had a 'stern talking' to him, but it only made things stop for month." She went over, the memory of which still agitated her. And Spencer could tell such with the way her eyes were fighting to roll. "I don't know what to do now, I mean, I can't go home." If history had taught the girl anything, her ex-boyfriend would already be waiting for her at the accommodation hall.

"Y/n, I do hope you understand the severity of this," Spencer started, "This is text-book stalking. If the wellbeing team talking to the police didn't do anything, than maybe an FBI agent talking to them might." He offered.

Her brows raised, "You'd do that?"

"Only if you wanted me to."

Y/n thought it over but it was an easy answer; anything to get this to stop. "Please."

"Okay then, tomorrow, I'll go with you to the police station, we'll talk to them together and this time, i swear to you, they will put a stop to this." He seemed to promise. But this was no promise he should be making to a student - this sense of protection was one of which was questionable.

She offered him a smile and a, "Thank you." But a question still nagged at the both of them.

It was that desire to protect the girl which urged Spencer to speak, "Do you have somewhere safe you can stay tonight?"

Not her flat that was certain. Even a friend's house was out of the question. A motel...maybe. Y/n sound herself shrugging, "Not at mine no, he's been known to go to my friend's places too and my parents, they're travelling." They were always travelling - spending her inheritance money you see. "I've got some cash, I'll probably go stay at a motel for the night."

The thought of Y/n tossing and turning in a scratchy, stone-like mattress only made Spencer's heart ache. He didn't dare to let them thoughts consume him. So, instead, he offered an alternative solution. "I understand if you're not comfortable, but I have spare room, you're more than welcome if you need."

Her eyes shot up to his, almost like she didn't believe him, "Are you- are you sure?" Surely that wasn't allowed. Though, Y/n (and Spencer too), decided to tell themselves this was different. This situation was well...it had room for things that would otherwise seem inappropriate.

"Of course, you need to be safe and I won't let you sleep in a motel room." Spencer doubted she would even get any sleep at all.

And in that moment, in the aftermath of her panic attack, she accepted, "Okay then."

-

Taglist - @tonystankhere Let me know if you would like to be added for this little series / any future spencer fics :)