#me easily manipulated: i don't care it worked on me

[jaggedwolf]

ok like, aa5 is not a Good TM game (it's possibly the worst structured aa game I've played so far, ignoring whatever the fuck the crossover was!) but i keep thinking about athena and simon and pondering whether they're my favorite protagonist-prosecutor dynamic since phoenix and edgeworth. bc it's like.

you're seventeen years old. you walk into your mentor's lab and find her bloody corpse on the robot disassembly setup, her equally bloody kid daughter next to her saying she tried to fix her mom and you just. you can't let this kid go to prison. so you frame yourself and smuggle her out and probably clean all the blood off of her. you don't say a word in your defense, even when it means you're going to death row, even when your older sister begs you to. you spend the next seven years in a cell realizing there's a real killer and trying and failing to find them.

you're eleven years old. your mother is murdered and everyone's convinced her student did it but you know he didn't, you know, but no one listens to you because you're a kid who doesn't remember anything and can't explain the emotions you're hearing (your mother would've been able to). his older sister who loved your mom, the adult closest to her - turns out she hates you, she thinks of you as a spoiled brat who did your own mom in and doomed her brother. you spend the next seven years speedrunning your adolescence to become a lawyer, because that's the only way to save this guy you know didn't hurt anyone.

obsessed with this.

I think what gets me is that this is not a Phoenix and Edgeworth situation. At no point are we told that Athena and Simon were close before the incident, and in fact I prefer the reading that they weren't. Obviously there is a baseline politeness, given Metis, but one was a withdrawn and often overwhelmed preteen and the other a bright older teenager at the beginning of his career.

It's that, when it all goes down, they both look at each other and go, I can't let this person take the blame, it's not fair. And this is key: During those seven years, they have no idea that's what the other person is thinking!

[lessi-lover]

don't break me when i let you in II barcelona femení x teen!reader

warnings: mention of suicide, implied self harm, self hate, spanish federation.

this is the longest i've ever written and i'm so proud thank you all for sending ideas to help me keep this draft alive x

don't break me when i let you in II barcelona femení x teen!reader

"you don't have to be strong all the time, you know?" it was an ignorant affair to believe, something only somebody with a slight sliver of saved up hope might trust. not you. not the broken shell of a person that can only believe you are the only thing keeping yourself together.

the glue to a cracked vase. in which the vase was you and you were slowly breaking under pressure that had been following you for years. if you hadn't hit rock bottom a couple months ago, you were certainly scraping the edge with your bare teeth now.

you had been one of their strongest forwards available to select from. a top forward in your league, it would be silly for them not to call you up with the titles next to your name at such a young age. it was inevitable that you would be called up for the world cup squad selection and there was nothing you could have done about it even if you tried.

you were just so helpless weren't you?

there was nobody to tell that you didn't want to travel to australia to play for a team that had ripped you inside out before you were even first national tournament debut, nobody that would understand how badly you wanted to represent your country and how willing you were to put your body on the line for it even for a single minute in spanish colours.

is that why you stayed quiet?

you stared towards yourself in the mirror, wondering if maybe your eyes had ever truly been as light as they used to tell you. that the light in your eyes you had been promised was always there had just seemingly disappeared. the eyes that they still talk about that seem so foreign to you now as you look back at yourself through shattered glass. wondering if maybe it was all just a lie.

maybe it was all just a lie.

a black and white faceless lie that everything you would go through for a ruthless tournament was for the better of you. or worse. a binary promise that everything would be okay, that all the suffering would end in good for you. or not.

but you look back through the same eyes that you were meant to be able to trust, the eyes that let everything just happen without looking back, and you still don't understand how you could be so easily deceived, taken apart from top to bottom like a neglected toy.

a useless, discardable toy. was it all a lie?

maybe the people who were meant to protect you and care for you were actually abusing you to wits' ends. maybe it wasn't that you needed the further training they made you endure after your previous training, but that you were so young and fresh and all too easy to manipulate.

maybe it was those you trusted and who sent you away with the assurance that you would be the next spanish legacy that isolated you from the world and treated you as a vessel to secure gold for spain.

but you were to blind and powerless to seek help.

you had been the silent one. the one too shattered to even bear the trial that came with the aftermath of the events following your world cup win. you knew the federation would come after you. you were the one who wanted so badly to sign the document that your teammates had but you couldn't bring yourself to look at the people who had broken you from the inside out for even just a second to speak your mind.

you were just a shell of a once strong force now weren't you?

you knew they would try and rip away each and every title you had ever worked for and your playing rights along with it. you were a world cup, champions league, copa de la reina, nations league and liga f winner. but maybe you were just a vulnerable, small cog in a relentless system that wouldn't stop until you broke down and they would throw you away like the others.

the fear of losing everything you had worked for since you were a small child paralyzed you for months. the mere thought of speaking out, of seeking help, seemed as impossible as how you got into the situation in the first place.

the federation had an iron grip on your life, they could control you whether you were defenseless to it or not and any caught wind of saying something felt like signing your own demise.

it would end you surely? don't you think that maybe speaking out for help would become the end of your career? one that had barely started as you were only freshly twenty years old? staying quiet was the better option. you had thought you could escape unscathed, but your reality was far from it.

nobody had your best interest and those who did didn't make it clear enough until you finally broke down from the denied pressure. it felt like a void sometimes. as if you were screaming and nobody could hear you, or maybe nobody cared?

no they care. didn't they?

did they care when you were forced out of bed early in the morning to complete extra practice before the day even started? did they care when you were just a young teenager illegally moving up into the senior divisions of international football to cover for seniors who had denied their call up's and was made to exhaust your body more than you ever should? did they care when the private meetings you were obligated to attend turned into time to yell at you, to break you down as if you hadn't given your entire life to the federation.

but then again, if not football what else did you have to live for?

you asked yourself these questions over and over again. each time just hoping that the harsh reminder of your situation would lessen. it never did. it never would. it would be stuck with you no matter how hard you tried to block it out, no matter how hard you tried to ignore who and what made you shrink a million times over.

the fear, the abuse, the meal plans, the body exhaustion, the denied freedom, the stolen happiness, a cruel reminder of the bottomless hole you had found yourself falling deeper and deeper and there was nothing you could do to get out.

you were truly and utterly stuck.

~

the office is cold, its white walls a stark contrast to the warmth in the hallway you had been waiting in for the past half hour. the thick carpet muffles your footsteps as you walk toward the large desk in the center of the room, the air you're walking into a harsh wind of tension that couldn't be cut with a blade if you tried.

you swallow hard, your throat dry despite the countless bottles of water you’ve consumed throughout the day. but your hydration doesn't matter now, whatever it said to you in the next twenty minutes does.

the glare of the desk lamp catches your eye, reflecting the same harsh light that seems to spotlight you everywhere, waiting for you to make your next mistake. you glance at the stern faces of the officials seated behind the desk, their expressions unreadable as they read through what looks like your performance reports.

“please, take a seat,” the head of the federation says, his voice clipped as he places his hand predatorily on your lower back and guides you to sit down. you lower yourself into the chair, the thin material of your club shorts rubbing uncomfortably against the velvet furniture.

the head official adjusts his collar, peering over them at you with a sharp look almost as though you had done something to personally offend him. but those aren't anything close to his next words.

“you’ve been doing exceptionally well, tesoro.” he begins, but his tone is far from genuine and you feel that something else is coming. “your performance has been impressive, especially considering your age and the closeness of the tournament.”

you nod, though his praise feels hollow, almost as if you're falling into a set trap made just for you. your heart races and you grip your hands on the chair. you want to speak up, to voice your concerns about the overwhelming training schedules and the strain it’s putting on your body, but the words get lost in your throat.

“we’ve decided to integrate you into the senior squad for the upcoming world cup. it’s a great opportunity, but it also means you’ll need to do far more than what you're currently putting in.”

your chest tightens. you’ve been waiting for this for a long time, but when he finally tells you it feels overwhelming and you don't understand why a moment you have been prepping for years of your life makes you feel uneasy. you push it off as nerves.

the world cup is a chance to showcase your skills on a global stage, this is your moment, don't stare it in the face and back down.

another official at the side of the room glances at you with a fleeting look of concern before turning back to his notes. he seems to recognize the strain you’re currently feeling, but his words are lost just like yours as the head continues to talk to you.

“your development is crucial to our success,” the head official says, his voice cutting through your thoughts. “we expect you to handle this responsibility with the utmost professionalism. this is an opportunity for you to prove yourself and secure your place on the national team.”

"and who knows, i have spots emptied by débiles that need filling. this is your shot don't blow it. tesoro." there is something about the way he talks to you and speaks about you over your head that makes you shiver right down to your core.

you nod again, feeling the weight of their words drop into the palm of your hand and the room seems to close in on you as they continue discussing your role to each other and the intense training you will need to undergo in the upcoming months.

the meeting ends with a firm handshake and a curt nod from yourself and as you leave the office, the clear expectations settle heavily on your shoulders, the fear of failing and the pressure to succeed feeling almost insurmountable. yourself unaware of the danger you have just put yourself in.

~

you're not even sure when it all started. you can't pinpoint when the abuse started, if you could even call it that, or if it was there the whole time and you normalised it for yourself because that was the better option instead of speaking out in your mind.

it was enough of the lack of players available that caused them to attempt to burn you out as much as they could. it was enough for the federation to take one look at you and decide that the weight of the world relied on your shoulder whether you liked it or not.

that was your purpose. it was your job to lead the team to victory without a second mistake. without a setback, through injury, responsible for the good and the bad, amidst an internal battle with yourself that was dragging you down, and most importantly with a smile on your face even if you were shattered from the inside.

a smile on your face. nobody would notice would they?

~

“siéntate, tesoro,” he commands, his tone carrying an edge of impatience and you feel yourself move quickly into his office at his voice. you sink into the chair, its firm surface a harsh contrast to how had felt in the chair only mere months ago.

“you’re here because you’ve been selected for the world cup squad,” he begins, his voice cold and he digs his hand into the desk as he leans close to you. “but let’s be clear, tesoro. being selected was only the first challenge. we expect more from you.”

you nod, but the weight of his words feel heavy and you can't help but notice that the official who had given you the sorry look was missing from his spot behind the desk.

“we’ve noticed that you’re not quite fitting the ideal player we had in mind,” he continues, and you shake off any thoughts of the past official when your eyes meet his. “you’re not fast enough, not agile enough. you’re not meeting the physical standards we expect from you.”

his words sting, each critique like a hard blow to your self-esteem that wasn't really there in the first place. “your performance has been adequate,” he says, “but adequate isn’t enough. we need you to be exceptional and above all competition. and right now, you’re neither of those.”

he leans forward, his breath fanning over you as you look down at the floor in fear. “your weight is one concern of our team, but it’s not just about being heavier or lighter. it’s about how you present yourself. we need you to be leaner, faster and even more dynamic. you’re not the perfect image we want for the team right now.”

the room seems to close in around you as he continues. “we’ve seen some players who didn’t meet our expectations and they were dropped. you need to understand that if you don’t shape up, you will be next to not enter through doors again. comprendido?"

he gestures to a pile of strawn documents on his desk and you look up from the concrete fall at the harsh snap of his fingers in your face.

“we have reports here, tesoro, that detail everything we need from you. and it’s not just about physical performance. it’s about how you look, how you’re perceived by the public. you need to be more endearing, more marketable. if you can’t fulfill that role, then we'll find another.”

his gaze is relentless and he talks to you like you're a faceless object that he can discard at his will, throw away when he feels you're not complying with his demands. he can take you off this squad the moment you defend yourself.

“you’re not here just to play; you’re here to be the face of the team. the face of spain. and right now, you’re not cutting it for us. we need you to be a star, not just another player in this tournament. and if you’re not willing to meet those expectations, then you’re in the wrong place i'm afraid.”

“now, we’re going to do something,” he continued, his voice carrying a coldness that made your stomach curl inwards as you sat fearfully in your chair. “i need you to repeat after me. ‘i am not good enough. i need to be better."

you hesitate, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak as you blinked harshly to try and to stop the tears that threatened to fall. “i am not good enough. i need to be better,” you say quietly, looking down shamefully at the floor like a small child being scolded by their parent.

“louder.” he demands, his voice cutting through the room like a whip and you try not to flinch at the volume of his words. “i need to hear you say it with conviction. you are lying through your teeth pequeña. don't lie to me, i hate liars."

“again,” he insists. “and this time, say it as if you truly believe it. i am not good enough. i need to be better." you force yourself to repeat the phrase, the words make you feel as if you're stripping away everything you ever built yourself to believe. every title, every trophy, every medal, every goal. erased.

“i am not good enough. i need to be better,” you say louder, the humiliation of his cruel exercise making your stomach lurch and you struggled to keep yourself together.

“very good,” the official says, his tone carrying a note of being pleased and you hated that you loved the feeling of his approval. “you should understand that just because you’re going to australia doesn’t mean you get to enjoy it. you’re there for work, not to have fun.”

his manipulation is chilling to the bone, designed to strip away any sense of accomplishment you had ever felt. “you’re not meant to enjoy australia, it’s not a vacation. you’re there to prove yourself, not to sightsee. you need to focus solely on the tournament, on meeting the expectations we’ve set for you. or we won't hesitate to send you home.”

“this is a serious commitment. if you let yourself get distracted, you’re failing in your duty. you’re expected to perform at your peak, and that means putting aside any thoughts of leisure or enjoyment. this isn’t about you enjoying yourself; it’s about you meeting the standards we've set for you.”

“if you allow yourself to get comfortable or take things lightly,” he warns, “you’re showing weakness. and weakness is unacceptable. you need to stay sharp, stay focused, and remember why you’re here.”

his manipulation is subtle yet even then you could tell that he knew you wouldn't fight back, he had designed it to make you feel guilty for even considering enjoying the tournament.

“this is a test of your worth,” he says. “if you can’t handle the pressure and keep your focus, you’re not fit for the team. we need you performing to the highest standards that we expect from everybody else. including you. if you can’t handle the pressure, then you’re not worthy of the position. we expect you to rise to the challenge without complaint.”

~

you were far too gone to allow somebody else to take your spot. guilty and far too gone to let yourself slip through the cracks you had been told others had fallen through. somebody wouldn't be able to deal with the kind of pain you had been trained to believe as normal.

somebody else definitely wasn't as strong as the fake front you had built up to deal with it all, or at least that's what you told yourself, it made you feel better even if you didn't believe it.

you felt like nothing.

was it the pressure? was it the memories? was it the unhealable bruises that littered you from head to toe? or was it the feeling that you gave your whole existence to people who threw you away like you were just dirt on the bottom of a shoe?

you were numb.

you couldn't even remember the last time you had felt truly happy, truly yourself. the facade of a charming female footballer you put on for the world was crumbling and you were scared that people would finally see the pain that lied underneath.

the mirror showed a person trapped between who they once were and the brokenness of who they had become, drowning in a sea of your own helplessness.

you wondered if there was any way back to the person you used to be, or if that person was gone forever, if she had fallen through but ignored by who you had been built to be. this is what rock bottom feels like. rock bottom is not knowing who you are anymore, not recognising any of the memories of the person you were before.

it's the lostness of knowing that you can't find yourself again, seeing your old self in the distance but not knowing how to reach it with the strength you so clearly do not have.

it's the painful acknowledgement that the once vibrant and full of life person who was here before has been replaced by a shadow and you're struggling to fight the dark.

had the darkness swallowed you yet?

your phone rings loudly in your ear. it's more harsh this time than the previous sounds that had escaped the device. you know who's calling you because there wasn't exactly anybody in your life that would reach out to you so religiously and determindly.

you bit down on your lip. a similar memory of you lying on the floor answering the man who had made you the emotionless person that couldn't bear to even think about the game you used to live for.

you miss the person you were. that man gutted her from the inside.

the sound pierces into the thick silence of the room, demanding you to answer as it broke through the barrier of quiet you had built up. the screen of your phone lights up and you let your eyes flicker down towards it, your phone displaying the name of the person you dreaded to see you how you are now.

a feeling you couldn't quite place as dread or relief washed over you as your phone vibrated against the cold floor. dark purple bruises forming on your legs and arms from the time you had spent laying on the bathroom floor.

you slowly reach for your phone, drops of blood dripping off your skin and onto the glass as tears make their way down your face from the dark circles that countless nights of lost sleep had created for you.

your fingers tremble as you swipe to answer the call as if they are carrying the burden you've been feeling for months, and the screen lights up with the caller's name again. you can't turn back now, you've answered the one person you would hate to see you like this.

you contemplate hanging up the phone, staying silent on your end of the call as if magically the situation would disappear and you could leave like you so badly wanted to.

you sound nothing like the person you were a year ago.

"hola amorcito. are you there?" the voice on the other end of the line breaks through your thoughts, the term of endearment so familiar yet painful almost making you burst into another set of tears but you stay strong for her because that's what he would have wanted.

"ale?" you reply, your voice steady but still shaking as you lift your phone to your ear to hear better. "i'm here." there's a soft sigh on alexia's side of the phone and you can almost picture her sitting with her girlfriend on the couch, the older woman had tried to call you throughout the week but you hadn't answered and she'd been waiting for you to call her back.

"you don't have to be strong all the time, you know?"

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

If you were to write Lila would you keep her being a con artist criminal with multiple identities but hinted at/revealed it earlier than S5 or would you cut that part down of her character entirely ?

It would really depend on how much space I had to fill. Gabriel is not the kind of villain that you can draw out forever. His story needs to have a clearly planned ending right from the start. In fact, I think they drew him out at least a season too long. So, if I also had to fill eight seasons, I could see myself going the Lila route. I'd just make a few changes. Off the top off my head, here's how I'd handle serious villain Lila as opposed to what canon wrote, which is petty school bully Lila who is entirely unbelievable as a serious villain.

First of all, Lila wouldn't be introduced at the end of season one. While her and Gabriel probably need to have some overlap, that's way too soon. In my version, she shows up at the start of season four and she'd be heavily toned down. We'd know that something was off about her, we may even keep the liar thing, but it would be a lot more subtle. Lies like, "Ladybug rescued me" and "I got to go backstage at a Jagged Stone concert" instead of "Ladybug is my bff" and "Jagged Stone wrote a song about me." Her goal would no longer be gaining peons, but instead gaining true close friends who like and trust her. The reason for this is that Lila is replacing Optigami as Mayura's last sentimonster.

See, season three ended with all those identity reveals and most of the revealed identities are in the same class. That's curious, so it makes perfect sense for Nathalie and Gabriel to want someone undercover in Adrien's class, but they can't do it. So Nathalie makes a sentikid of her own, gives her the power of manipulation, and sends her off to try to find Ladybug and/or Chat Noir by whatever means necessary.

This would give a clear reason for Gabriel to trust Lila, a clear reason for Lila to know all about the miraculous, and a clear reason for Lila to hate Ladybug. In this version, I wouldn't do Nathalie's lackluster redemption. Instead, Nathalie stays bad right up to her death. Perhaps her last act is getting the butterfly to her daughter and ordering her to get revenge on Ladybug and Chat Noir should Gabriel fail. After all, Gabriel can't wield more than six miraculous at once, so it makes sense for him to send Nathalie off with at least one of them while he enacts his master plan just in case it fails.

That's just one potential path to take. I also like the idea of having Lila be someone who came to Paris in order to find the miraculous, but who has no ties to the Agrestes. That would require some pretty big changes to her character, though, as I can't see that type of character caring about things like dating Adrien or being a model or all the other crap that has nothing to do with gaining a miraculous and everything to do with popularity and social clout. Lila canonically doesn't know that Gabriel even has a miraculous until the final of season four, so she basically just lucked into finding one instead of doing anything logical to find it because this show has no clue how to actually write smart, clever characters.

In summary, I'm totally fine with complex, master-manipulator Lila, it's just hard to figure out the best way to make her work when we don't know anything about her backstory or motivation. The version proposed above is just the best I can do to fit her into the role canon placed her in. A role I could easily see later seasons flat out ignoring.

[moonsaver]

Do you have any thoughts about the opposite of the "Im afraid to confess because our friendship could get ruined"? As in, "I'm afraid to reject you because I don't want to lose this friendship so I accept your confession even though I don't feel that way for you and never will".

Like the protagonist tries to convince themselves that this is just like being friends only that we now kiss (and more). I feel like it would fit with a yandere that is a bit delusional or desperate, eveb insecure so whenever the protagonist doesnt seem as into this relationship as them, they just try to convince themselves otherwise, or love bomb the protagonist.

Idk lately Ive been into reversing the tropes and I found this one particularly interesting to me when it comes to a yandere. In HSR i was thinking of Argenti as he seems like the delusional type. Or even Aventurine who would have had to put down a lot of walls to be friends with you and then even more walls just to confess, so rejecting him doesnt seem like an option to the protag (out of pity and care).

THIS THIS THIS!!!! qnon ur brain is so wrinkly and soggy with brain juice..... this used to be my favorite trope at some point idk why i forgot about it i remember eating up any fanfics out there based on this

Tw: yandere (obv), manipulation, intimacy (mainly romantic, only hints of sexual), emotional blackmailing, whatever yadda yadda

But anyways, under the cut!

Okay, so, I imagine this is possible with literally... almost all of hsr's cast. Mainly because most of them have such tragic backstories, and most of them out of that have a really shrewd and cunning mind, so they'll exploit this to hell and back.

I also imagine this is with a people pleasing reader, so lets go with a bit of implication of that.

Anyways, since Aventurine and Argenti are the ones mentioned specifically, I'll probably dive in on them first.

Aventurine is so hard to not feel pity for. Every stolen glance at the marking on his neck makes you feel worse and worse for "rejecting him", knowing he's been throwing signs of wanting more than a friendship quite possibly everywhere and you're most likely ignoring them in hopes of keeping your friendship. It's not like he hasn't quite caught on, either. He knows people's hearts quite well. And where there's opportunity, he seizes it.

It's a bit frustrating for him – just why can't you see he wants more? Or rather, just why aren't you accepting him? You're the first thing on his mind when he wakes up, when he clutches his chip and bets on his life, the last thing on his mind when he goes to sleep. Hell, he's even tried to dream of you, forcefully. But then he realizes.. how easy you are to just push around. He goes ahead with the confession, and it's almost a sadistic kind of pleasure when he sees you even try and stutter out any kind of a rejection when he's leaning in a perfect angle that shows off his little marking (out of all the times he curses it, it seems like this time it's worked in his favor). He watches carefully as your eyes nervously flit to his neck and you shut up immediately for a second, before accepting. And when you do.. he's over the moon! Coddles you, kisses your cheeks, becomes so much more grabby, as his keen eyes watch your discomfort. Well.. you didn't reject him, so this is what you should expect.

Again, the frustration doesn't wear off easily, but just seeing you writhe and try to create distance while he suffocates you in affection far from platonic nature, is so sadistically pleasuring to him. He loves watching you in that state, bending to his will so easily, as he waits for you to snap. But he'll probably find it easier to squeeze water out of a rock than to squeeze a rejection out of you – which is precisely what he exploits. You're not going anywhere, are you? He puts on his best, pleading little eyes that he used to have to put on, shaking, trembling voice, desperate hands that cling to you; all the things he acts out like his life depends on it when he senses even a waver of your hesitation.

Oh, fine.. he hates seeing you so queasy almost all the time, so he'll give you a reprieve from time to time. Plans and schedules things you used to do "back when you were friends" (he emphasizes this – you don't think you can just ignore everything, right?), and makes sure to at least crack a few smiles and giggles from you. Of course.. his hand is still loosely hanging around your waist, pecks you on the lips from time to time, just as a small reminder of what you guys really are now.

Argenti on the other hand, has no awareness of your discomfort at all.

He's like a huge dog, the way he's so happy about you accepting his confession and doesn't even stop to think afterwards just why you were so hesitant during it.

Constantly praises you, and it's not soon before it gets to a more intimate nature. He wants to do all the romantic things – kissing under the rain, protecting you from something, twirling you in the air and then kissing you again after putting you down, telling everyone proudly that you two are a couple, buying more and more "romantic" gifts that turn more intimate sooner or later. You have no way out of this without completely ruining everything.

It's.. almost painful the way he doesn't realise. At some point your discomfort probably gets so.. obvious, but he just shrugs it off; perhaps he hasn't been paying you enough attention? Or you're just too shy to ask something of him? Oh, how sweet! How adorable! He thinks. He simply falls deeper and deeper into this delusion, stringing you along and stretching your patience thin. Unfortunately, unlike Aventurine, you can't find most, if any bits of the things you both used to do as platonic companions in the relationship you have with Argenti. He's just a full-blown romantic who wants to do only that. It makes you even more queasy when people look at you in pity, if they realize just what happened between you two.

You can't back out, even if you tried. If you somehow manage to find a way to squeeze out a rejection, or have any kind of a reservation about things getting more intimate/romantic stuff, he's so devastated. Did he do something wrong? Perhaps he's not as experienced as you wanted him to be? Or you're not satisfied with some of the things he's said? Don't fret, he's right on it! Constantly holding you so close you're afraid your bones will break, whispering incessant praises into your ear that slowly spiral into affirmations that you belong to him, spoiled rotten with everything you want; yet, even then.. you can't shake off the intention they were given in. Not when you're suffocated by it.

[ignoredbellyaches]

YOU LOOK LONELY... I CAN FIX THAT.

Sequel fanfic based ENTIRELY off of @void-dude 's AMAZING, beautiful, and incredibly scrumptious work

If Bill could sweat, he would be sweating bullets.

Ever since that damned dream of his, he had an even harder time getting Sixer off his mind.

What the hell WAS that anyway?

Ford was so... large. Larger than life. Like he knew everything, that he was strong and Bill-

Bill so... small. tiny. helpless.

Is that what Sixer had felt like when he?—

Bill decided it better not to think about that.

Tonight, he HAD to get that dream... nightmare... thingamajig back for research purposes, of course. It was the only thing he had thought about, and if there's one thing he's learned in this infernal hell known as "The Theraprism™", it was that exposure therapy could be effective.

After all, how hard could it be? Bill was a master of the mindscape, and even if his powers were... slightly nullified, he could surely still control HIS mind. It would be a piece of cake. He would reenter that dream, investigate, and be out in a jiffy. Before he could lose his nerve, Bill lied down and began the meditation to slowly empty his mind. It had come easily to him, slowly shifting from reality to his distorted brain, and then gradually transitioning that world of chaos-filled memories to an empty canvas he could manipulate. For the first time in a long time, Bill felt in control. His mind returned to him, and not the sobered one he was forced to endure during therapy, but his REAL one. His safe place. His kingdom. It was momentary bliss.

Bill, holding onto that relief, opened his eye. He suddenly remembered why he was so hesitant to return to this.

There Ford was, in all of his glory. Bill didn't have to look down to know he was once again bare to the giant in front of him. He was vulnerable. Ford, or at least a cruel representation of him (was he forgetting what he looked like?) smiled down at Bill.

"My muse." Ford breathed out, a crackling pop sound overlaying his voice, one that was infinitely louder than any thought Bill had.

Ford reached out, plucking Bill up like he was nothing. He carded his fingers between Bill's limbs, caressing the triangle with such agonizing care.

Ford brought him closer, reminsicent of a kid looking at a strange bug they had found. "You've finally returned to me."

Bill felt just as exposed as the first time, blinking back unexpected and unwelcomed tears. He weakly extended his hand to touch Ford-

"Ah, ah, don't move yet."

Bill quickly drew his hand away, almost hurt at the command yet still obeying without thought.

"I want to admire you, just a second longer."

Bill breathed out heavily, his vision beginning to blur. It was getting too clouded, too close, too much- Bill wanted out. he didn't want this anymore, he didnt want to be near him again, stop TOUCHING me, DON'T TOUCH ME, STOP-

The overhead light glared at Bill, screaming at him to get up.

The dream was over.

Bill was alone again.

...

requests/asks are open : )

[jennelikejennay]

I feel like people who write off Kirk as a "womanizer" don't really draw the lines in the right places.

To me the division is not "man who has a lot of sex | man who doesn't." It's "man who treats women as objects to collect and enjoy | man who genuinely sees women as people and loves them."

It's the post scarcity future, I'm sure there's a vaccine for every STI and we know their birth control works great. There's no reason not to have sex if you want to have it. There shouldn't be shame involved in having lots of it.

But if you watch Kirk carefully, he does not ever treat women like collectibles or disposables. He interacts with them very much as people. Some he flirts with and it's not serious (which they know). Some he's trying to help. Some manipulate him, which sucks. And some he presumably has sex with, but only because he genuinely likes them as people and wants to do this fun thing with them.

None of this fits the idea of a womanizer as a man who takes advantage, pretends to be in love only long enough to score, cheats, gropes his employees, can't see women as people because he's only looking to get as many of them into bed as possible.

So I wish people would stop painting him as that. He's a flirt, he falls for people easily, he's noticeably horny, but he's never disrespectful of women. The writers were very careful about that. They saw the world around them full of that kind of caddish behavior and wrote a man who would never. They show Kirk being tempted by Rand, Marlena, etc., and then making the deliberate choice not to act that way. Because they were making a point about how a hero acts. We even see him give Charlie a lecture about how to treat women, and it's a lesson he personally follows. It's a bit heavy handed if anything.

And then people watch like half of one episode and go "oh yeah ha ha that Kirk, such a sixties womanizer hero, so backward, I'd never watch that." I thought that initially before my recent rewatch, but....that is simply not what's in the show.

[alexawynters]

Mommy Knows Best - w.m x r blurb

Summary: Wanda convincing R to let her to all the thinking for her

Warnings: Ehhh... allusions to manipulation, kidnapping, stalking.

A/N: So ahhh... I wrote this in 15 minutes while at work in a part of the office I very much didn't want to be in. This isn't connected to anything. I don't intend on expanding this bc I have no spoons and the plot bunnies won't settle on anything definitively. But if anybody wants to take a crack at it, pleeeeaaase do! Just like.. link me so I can read it because I am thirsty. Also all of this was typed up on my phone so sorry for any typos, or formatting issues. I left my laptop at home today like a dumbass..

Wanda's hand cradled your face with a gentle yet possessive grip. "I knew that you needed me the moment I laid eyes on you in that coffee shop."

Your eyes widened at the older woman's confession. Out of all the times you had met up with Wanda, it had never been at a coffee shop. Her implication that she had been watching you sent a bolt of fear down your spine.

"Such a sweet little thing, so easily flustered." She appraised you with a keen eye, searching for any hint that you might try to run. "You were just trying to substitute the milk in your coffee order, yet you couldn't even do that without nearly breaking out into tears. Poor thing. You just needed your Mommy to do all your difficult thinking for you, huh?"

The older woman's voice had taken on an almost saccharine quality, while simultaneously dripping with condescension. You couldn't have explained it if you tried, but something about her tone, her words, turned your head all fuzzy.

Alarm bells that should have been clanging loudly were but a distant detail in your peripheral, not worthy of your attention when the alternative was listening to Wanda's honeyed voice. You should be concerned. A normal person would be leaving this crazy woman as fast as their legs could carry them. Yet instead, you practically meted into Wanda's touch, almost craving it.

The witch gave a subtle smirk at the way your eyes glossed over when she talked down to you. This was going to be even easier than Wanda had thought. She might not even need to use her magic if you were already this responsive to her. Frankly, Wanda was delighted.

"Use your words, kotenok. I know you're just a dumb baby, and words are hard, but when Mommy asks you a question, I expect an answer."

Her grip turned firm, border lining on painful. Glassy eyes snapped open.

"Y-yes, Mommy. I just needed you to do all the thinking for me."

Your face flushed bright red as you spoke the words, but you couldn't bring yourself to take them back. Now that they had been released into the universe, the words rang true for you. They simply felt... right. Your trusting gaze met Wanda's domineering one, seeking any sign of her approval.

The older woman gave a salacious grin, very much reminiscent of a cat who caught the canary. "There's my good girl," she cooed, caressing the apple of your cheek with her thumb.

Lulled into a false sense of safety and security, you tilted your head. Leaning into her touch, you were practically simpering from her praise and touch. Why had you ever been concerned, you wondered? This was Wanda. She would always take care of you. She would never even dream of harming you. If only you knew the extent of the very real danger you were in, you might have tried to run. Not that you would have gotten far, but Wanda might have enjoyed the thrill of the chase.

Nevertheless, she had you right where she wanted you and why make it unpleasant when you were so... willing? The witch reveled in how pliant you were. Like putty in her hands, ready to be shaped and molded into the perfect plaything for her.

"Now kotenok," she said softly. "Why don't you go get changed into something comfortable and we can watch movies? I took the liberty of bringing over some of your clothes from your apartment as you won't be staying there anymore."

The former Avenger patted your cheek gently, sending you off on your way. It was only a few feet you had made before hesitating, turning to look at the older woman.

"Mommy...." You tried the title, and it rolled off your tongue surprisingly easily. "Why. won't I be staying at my apartment anymore? I'm still paying rent on it for another seven months." Uncertainty rolled off of you in waves.

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek, reigning her temper in. She needed to be understanding, but firm with you if she planned to get you completely under her thumb without scaring you off.

"You let Mommy worry about all of that. Those are big girl thoughts, and you wanted Mommy to do all the thinking for you, isn't that right?" Her voice was filled with exaggerated patience and condescension.

Part of you wanted to push the question. If you weren't going to be staying at your flat anymore then Wanda must mean for you to stay with her. Unfortunately, you couldn't afford rent in both places, so if you needed to sublet your flat, the sooner you knew for sure, the better. Not once did you question how, when, or why the redhead had picked up your clothes, being so focused about this rent situation.

Still, as you caught Wanda's steadily hardening gaze due to your lack of immediate cooperation, you could have sworn you almost saw a subtle flash of scarlet in her eyes. Opting not to upset the woman you were quickly falling for, you promptly turned on your heel, intent on doing as she had asked.

Unbeknownst to you, Wanda Maximoff was observing your trailing form with a razor-sharp gaze. She felt triumphant, everything was going according to plan, and you were honestly making it too easy on her. Soon you would belong to her, and by the time you realized, it would be too late.

A/N 2: What are we thinking? Bin it? Try to write it from the beginning? Or maybe keep going and only have the beginning appear in flashback format? I know I need to update Scarlet Whispers and I'm gonna, I swear! Just... effort. lol

[puppyplayhouse]

Hybrid owner Chan getting sick of your attitude!

Warnings: CNC sort of, forced oral (Chan receiving), degrading, riding, manipulation (?), sort of forced creampie, implied multiple rounds. Filth! Absolute filth.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐩་༘࿐

You've been so cranky the past week. He'd offer you something, you'd reject it. He'd take you somewhere, you'd sulk the whole time. Even when he tried to be affectionate, you were growling at him. He could usually grin and bear it. He could usually lead with patience, understanding that Hybrids didn't communicate the same way humans did.

You usually weren't such an asshole.

It's 2am by the time he gets in from the studio, and you're sitting on the couch with the volume up loud on a cartoon he couldn't care enough to take interest in. The fact that you had a staggered sleep schedule never bothered him until you decided his rules were no longer to your liking.

"Can you turn that down, please?" He asked as calm as he could, stiffling that bite that dared enter his tone as you ignored him. "Are you listening to me?" He hears you scoff and its enough for him to snap, growling his own threat as he makes his way to the couch, right hand finding your hair and tugging your head back to force eye contact as he stared down at you with narrowed eyes.

"This fucking attitude isn't very flattering on you." He's not speaking to you so much as at you, and he tugs harder at your hair when your mouth opens to speak what he assumes will be a snarky comment in return. "Don't you fucking dare talking back to me."

He shoves you forward and walks around to the front of the couch, yanking your arm to pull you down onto the floor before sitting, shaking his head in disapproval as you settle between his spread thighs. He's quick to work the zipper of his pants down, his cock shoved into your mouth within seconds leaving you no time to think about what was happening if you wanted to avoid choking violently on your own saliva.

"All fucking week you've been acting like some fucking stray. I do everything for you and all I fucking ask is for you to act like you know how to behaviour around people." He's holding your head down as he speaks, your nose pressed firmly against his abdomen sending a subtle rush of fear to your stomach. "Can't even fucking do that, can you?"

He waits for you to try and push away from him before he lets you up at all, still keeping you trapped on his cock but with just enough room to catch your breath. He can tell your mind is going empty the more pliant you become, struggling less as he harshly thrusts his cock down your throat. It's guaranteed that you won't be able to speak easily tomorrow, and maybe that's for the best.

"You wanna act like a bitch, yeah?" It's not really a question, and he laughs as you stare up at him with watery eyes and saliva streaking your chin. You look completely clueless, watching him pat his thigh as an unspoken signal for you to climb into his lap, which you follow, yelping as he grabs at your thighs and tugs your panties to the side, no remorse tinting his voice as his cock is shoved into your admittedly dripping hole. "You wanna act like a bitch so I'm gonna fucking treat you like one."

He doesn't even allow you to set the pace, holding your hips in place to allow just enough room for him to thrust up into you. He fills you in all the right ways, and the subtle burn from the lack of preparation just pushes you further into the mind-numbing pleasure he forces on you. It would be impossible for you to speak even if you wanted to, your tongue poking out of your mouth as you pant, truly embodying the word 'desperation' in a way that made him smirk dangerously.

"Filthy little mutt. Needed your owner to fuck the attitude out of you, yeah? Is my dumb slut that desperate for cock?"

You nod eagerly, moaning at his cruelty as your hands gripped at the fabric of his shirt.

"Fucking pathetic. Gonna have to fill you up with the way your cunt is gripping me."

Your eyes widened with panic, having never experienced such a thing with him before. You really do try to voice your concern, but his fingers sliding into your mouth make it so difficult to think, and you know it won't make a difference. It's too easy to just take what he gives you and worry about the consequences later.

"That's it, Pup. Take it all." He groans into your neck as he thrusts, only lasting a minute or so before he's cumming inside you, the overflow dripping down between your bodies.

You take a few minutes to gain a little sanity back before trying to move, only to be stopped by his firm grip.

"You don't think I'm done yet, do you?"

[lee-laurent]

Say Something Stupid like 'I love you' - Nico Hischier

Summary: nico has a past with the new devils intern. and she's bringing a surprise along with her

Content: one-night stands, angst, mentions of sex but no smut, pregnancy, drinking, mentions of gaslighting and manipulation

wc: 6.3k

notes: i'm reallyyyyyy trying to get over my writer's block. here's a nico fic! for all the nico girlies out there. i feel like it ended kind of abruptly but i was struggling at the end. so... enjoy

The bar was louder than Jean preferred, but it was her friend's birthday, so she didn't complain. She let the bass-heavy music shake her bones as she leaned on the counter, waiting for their drinks. Around her, groups of friends and clusters of strangers laughed and shouted over the noise, celebrating as though they had no care in the world. Jean might've felt the same, except that wasn't really her scene. She took a deep breath, checking her phone for any texts from her friend.

"Not a fan of crowded bars?"

Jean glanced up to see a guy standing beside her, a faint smirk on his lips. He had dark, tousled hair and warm brown eyes that made her think of autumn leaves. His accent, subtle but noticeable, made her pause.

"No, not really," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "But it's my friend's birthday, so... here I am."

He nodded, his smile widening slightly. "I get that. I'm Nico, by the way."

"Jean," she offered, surprised at how easily her name rolled off her tongue. Usually, she wasn't so quick to engage with strangers, but there was something disarming about Nico's presence.

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the chaos of the bar swirling around them. Jean glanced over at him, taking in his relaxed posture and the way he casually leaned against the counter, as though he was completely at ease in the noise and crowd.

"You don't seem like you're really into this whole scene either," she commented, tilting her head toward him.

Nico laughed softly, his shoulders shaking just slightly. "Not tonight, no. I'm here with some friends, though. We won a big game today, so we're celebrating."

"Oh, hockey?" Jean asked, eyebrows raised.

Nico nodded. "Yeah, hockey."

"I don't really follow it," she admitted, offering a small shrug. Assuming he was just talking about a beer league or something. Surely NHL players didn't hang around in bars like this one. "But congrats on the win."

"Thanks," he said, his eyes lighting up just a little at her words. "It was a good one."

The drinks finally arrived, and Jean handed the bartender a twenty before grabbing the glasses. She turned to Nico, feeling like she should say something else, but not sure what.

"Thanks for chatting. Good luck with your next game."

Nico's smirk returned, and he tilited his head slightly. "Don't you think we should make a toast first?"

Jean blinked. "A toast?"

"Yeah, to your friend's birthday," his eyes twinkled. "And, I guess, to us both surviving this bar tonight."

Jean couldn't help but laugh. "Alright. Sure, let's make a toast."

They clinked their glasses together, and Jean could feel her cheeks warming, though she wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or the way Nico looked at her. It was strange-- she had just met him, but something about him felt easy, like they had known each other longer.

"So," Nico said, setting his glass down after the toast, "what do you do when you're not getting dragged to crowded bars."

Jean grinned, leaning against the the bar and taking a sip of her drink. "I'm an intern. Physio stuff. Nothing too exciting, but it should keep me busy."

"Intern?" Nico asked, curious. "For what?"

She hesitated, not wanting to dive too deep into the job she had just started at the bar. "Let's just say it's a temporary gig, but one that's giving me some good experience."

He nodded, respecting her vagueness. "That's cool. Sounds like you're working hard."

They continued talking, conversation coming easily. Nico asked her about everything from her favourite music to what she liked to do in her free time, and Jean found herself laughing more than she expected. For someone who seemed so quiet at first, Nico had a way of drawing her out, making her feel comfortable despite the chaotic environment around them.

After a while, she realized she hadn't even glanced back at her friends. Jean's gaze flickered to the dance floor, where her group was still partying. Her friend wouldn't notice if she took a little longer at the bar, would she?

Nico must've noticed her distraction because he leaned in a little closer, his voice low. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jean replied, meeting his eyes. "Just thinking about how I'm probably gonna get dragged into dancing soon."

"Not a fan of dancing either?"

She grinned. "Not when it's this kind of music."

"I get that," Nico said, his voice soft, almost conspiratorial. "How about we skip the dancing?"

"What do you mean?"

Jean raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Let's get out of here," his tone more serious now. "Go somewhere quieter just the two of us."

For a moment, she hesitated, the noise of the bar fading into the background as she considered his offer. There something undeniably tempting about it--about him. She wasn't usually the type to leave a bar with someone she had just met, but tonight felt different. Nico wasn't pushing or pressuring her, just offering her a way out of the chaos.

"Alright. Let's go."

~~

Sunlight filled the room, the blinds not shut all the way. Jean blinked against the light, her mind fuzzy as she slowly came to her senses. For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was--until the unfamiliar surroundings and the warmth of the body next to her brought everything rushing back.

Oh no.

She shifted slightly, careful not to wake him. Nico was still asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. The sheets were tangled around him, and his hair was messy from sleep. He looked peaceful, oblivious to the fact that Jean was internally freaking out.

Last night. The bar. The conversation. The drinks. And then this.

Jean chewed her lip, mentally chastising herself. It wasn't like her to let things go this far with someone she barely knew, but there was something about Nico that had felt so... effortless. And now, here she was, in his bed, trying to figure out how to quietly slip out without making things more awkward than they already were.

She slowly slid out of bed, gathering her clothes from the floor. Her shirt was under his desk chair, and her jeans were halfway across the room. It felt like a scavenger hunt, and she couldn't help but mentally laugh at the situation. She dressed as quietly as possible, pulling on her shoes and grabbing her phone off the nightstand.

As she reached for her jacket, she heard Nico stir behind her. "Jean?"

She froze, cursing internally. Of course he's awake now.

Turning slowly, she forced a small smile. "Hey. Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

Nico rubbed his eyes and propped himself up on his elbow, blinking groggily. "It's alright. You're leaving?"

"Yeah, I've got a... thing I need to get to." Jean slipped her jacket on, her fingers fumbling with the zipper. "Last night was fun, but I really should head out."

There was a pause, and Jean could see Nico trying to process the situation through his sleep-fogged brain. He didn't look hurt or upset, just... tired. "Right. Well, it was nice meeting you."

"Yeah, you too," she nodded.

She wasn't sure what else to say. There was an awkward tension in the air between them, and Jean's only instinct was to leave before it got worse. She opened the door and glanced back at Nico one last time. He gave her a faint smile before lying back down, eyes already closing.

Once she was out of the apartment and into the crisp morning air, Jean took a deep breath. She hadn't intended for things to end like this. Nico had been charming, sure, but she hadn't expected the night to go beyond casual drinks and conversation. And now? Well, she didn't even know if she'd ever see him again--or if she wanted to.

Jean flagged down a taxi, sliding into the backseat as she directed the driver towards her place. As she sat back, she tried to push the whole night out of her mind. She had work to focus on.

By the time she reached her apartment, Jean had almost convinced herself that the night with Nico had been a one-time thing. They'd had fun, shared a few laughs, but now it was over. She didn't expect to see him again, and that was fine. They both got what they wanted out of the night.

~~

As the door clicked shut behind Jean, Nico lay still, staring up at the ceiling. His body felt heavy, not just from alcohol or lack of sleep, but from the quiet, empty feeling that he felt since Jean departed.

He didn't know how to place what had happened. Sure, he'd had hookups in the past but the connection was never as instant as this. It wasn't just the physical attraction--though that was undeniable--but the way she had looked at him, as if she didn't care about who he was or the life he led. It was refreshing.

But now she was gone, and Nico was left with the unsettling sense that he'd let something slip through his fingers without even fully understanding what it was.

He pushed himself out of bed and headed for the shower, hoping the hot water would help clear his head. As the steam rose around him, Nico replayed the events of the night in his mind-- the drinks, the conversation... the way her body felt against his. Jean had been different, not like the people he met in his usual social circle.

But maybe it was better that she'd left. His life was complicated enough as it was, with the team, the pressure of being captain, and the constant judgement from the media and fans. He didn't have time to worry about someone he barely knew.

Yet, as he got dressed and prepared for the day, Nico couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't seen the last of Jean. Something told him their paths would cross again--whether he was ready for it or not.

~~

Jean checked her reflection in the mirrored wall of the gym, adjusting her jacket and pulling her curly hair into a mostly-tamed ponytail. Today was her first official day as a physiotherapy intern with the New Jersey Devils, and nerves were starting to bubble in her chest. She had landed the position after months of hard work and interviews, and now it was time to prove herself.

Taking a deep breath, Jean grabbed her clipboard and headed toward the rink. She had been excited about this internship since day one. Despite knowing nothing about hockey before landing the role, she had done her research on how the game was played (but not the players...) and she was ready to work alongside some of the best athletes in the league. Her goal was clear--make a good impression, learn as much as she could, make connections, and avoid all unnecessary drama.

She stepped into the rink, the cool air making her shiver in comparison to the warm gym. The team was already out on the ice, practicing drills and shooting pucks. Jean watched them skate for a moment, her eyes following the blur of players weaving in and out of drills with expert precision. Even though she wasn't a hockey fan, she couldn't help but be impressed by their skill and athleticism.

"Hey, you must be Jean, the new intern?" A friendly voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

Jean turned to see a woman in a Devils polo approaching, smiling warmly. "I'm Sarah. I'll be showing you around today."

"Yeah, that's me," Jean replied, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm excited to get started."

Sarah led Jean to the bench, explaining some of the basic protocols and introducing her to the trainers she'd be working with. Jean did her best to absorb everything, nodding along and taking mental notes. She was ready to dive into her duties, determined to make a good first impression.

"So, you'll be working with some of the players on rehab and maintenance," Sarah said. "It can get busy, especially after games, but the guys are great. Just be prepared for anything--they're a competitive bunch."

"Got it. Thanks for the heads-up."

As they continued talking, the sound of skates scraping the ice grew louder. The practice was winding down, and players were making their way off the rink, their skates clattering against the floor as they moved toward the locker room. Jean watched as they passed by, mentally trying to match faces to the names she'd heard around.

And then, her stomach dropped.

Because walking toward her, wiping sweat from his brow and looking just as surprised as she felt, was Nico.

Oh my god. Of all people.

Jean wanted to die as they locked eyes. She hadn't recognized him the night they met at the bar, and she doubted he had mentioned being the captain of a professional hockey team during the brief conversation. Now, standing just a few feet away, it all clicked into place. Nico wasn't just some guy from the bar--he was Nico Hischier, captain of New Jersey Devils, and her new client.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The shock on Nico's face mirrored her own. Jean quickly tore her eyes away, focusing intently on the clipboard in her hands, pretending to check something, anything, to avoid his gaze.

Sarah, oblivious to the silent standoff, continued her tour, explaining the rest of the setup. Jean nodded along, silently replaying the events of that night with a new clarity. She hadn't known Nico was part of the team, and judging by his expression, he hadn't known she'd end up here either.

"Jean," Sarah said, pulling her back to the present. "This is Nico, the team captain. Nico, this is Jean, our new physiotherapy intern. You'll probably be working together quite a bit."

Oh no.

Jean smiled stiffly, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "Nice to meet you," she managed, forcing the words out as she looked up at him.

Nico gave a slow nod, "Yeah. Nice to meet you too."

The way he said it--cool, calm, but with a twinge of something else--sent a shiver down Jean's spine. There was a tension there, one she wasn't sure how to navigate. They had shared a night together, but now, under these circumstances, it felt like that connection was suddenly loaded with a meaning neither of them had signed up for.

"Alright, let's head to the training room," Sarah continued, still unaware of the awkwardness. "We'll get you set up for your first session."

Jean followed Sarah, she could feel Nico's eyes on her as they walked away, and she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. She hadn't expected to see him again, much less like this.

~~

Nico couldn't believe it. Jean? Here? He hadn't even thought about her since the morning she left his apartment, figuring it was a one-time thing. But now she was here, working with the team? As a physiotherapy intern, no less?

Part of him wanted to confront her right then and there, to demand to know why she hadn't mentioned anything about working for the Devils. But another part--the part that was still processing everything--told him to stay quiet.

He shook his head in frustration. He couldn't shake the feeling that she had kept something from him, that she'd known all along who he was. Maybe that's why she hadn't mentioned much about work during their conversation. It made sense now--why else would she have ended up here, of all places?

Nico grabbed his gear and headed to the locker room, his thoughts still spinning. He didn't know what Jean's game was, but whatever it was, he wasn't about to play along. He had enough on his plate already, and the last thing he needed in his life was more drama.

~~

As soon as Jean entered the training room, she leaned against the counter, trying to steady her breathing. This couldn't be happening. Not only had she slept with one of the team's most important players, but that player also happened to be her new boss, in a way. She could barely wrap her head around it.

How was she supposed to work with Nico now? There was no way he wasn't upset about this, judging by the way he'd looked at her. He probably thought she'd planned this, that she'd known who he was all along.

The last thing she wanted was for Nico to think she had some ulterior motive. That night had been spontaneous--she hadn't even known what position he played, let alone that he was the captain of the Devils. Now she'd have to navigate the situation without letting it affect her job. Easier said than done.

~~

The next few days passed in a blur. Jean had tried her best to keep things professional, focusing on her duties as an intern, but every time Nico was in the room, the air felt heavier, like there was someone sitting on both of their chests.

She had avoided making eye contact with him as much as possible, always redirecting her focus to other players or her clipboard when he walked into the room. The last thing she needed was to stir up any drama in her first week there.

But ignoring Nico wasn't easy.

Every time he came into the training room for his post-practice treatments, she felt his presence like a magnet. The tension between them wasn't just awkward--it was unbearable. Her body would go stiff, her words would fumble, and she'd feel her heart race like it had that night at the bar. Except now, it wasn't excitement that caused her pulse to speed up; it was anxiety.

Jean was doing a decent job of keeping her distance, but eventually that plan went out the window.

It had been a long practice. The players filed into the training room, exhausted, sweaty, and in need of ice baths, massages, and whatever treatments the physio team could offer. As Jean worked on helping a player stretch, she noticed Nico walking in, catching her off guard.

She refocused, pretending she didn't see him, but her concentration shattered when she heard a voice nearby.

"Jean."

The tone was clipped, almost cold.

Her heart dropped to her stomach. She turned slowly, meeting Nico's eyes, which were hard and unreadable. He was standing just a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, looking like he was barely holding back his frustration.

"Can we talk?"

She knew exactly what he wanted to talk about.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Jean replied, her throat dry as she nodded toward the back of the room. "Let's step over here."

She could feel the eyes of a few players on her as she walked past, but she kept her head down, not wanting to make the situation more public than it already felt. They stepped into the small office space at the back of the training room, and Jean could feel how heavy the air was as she clicked the door shut.

Nico crossed his arms again, leaning against the desk as his gaze bore into her. "Why didn't you tell me you worked here?"

Jean blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of the question. "I--I didn't know. I mean, I didn't know you were on the team when we..."

She trailed off, realizing how difficult it was to even say it out loud.

Nico's eyes narrowed. "So, you're telling me you just happened to hook up with the captain of the Devils a few days before starting an internship here? You expect me to believe that was just a coincidence?"

Jean felt her frustration bubble up. "It was a coincidence. I didn't even know who you were, Nico. My friend dragged me to the bar that night. I didn't know a thing about hockey, let alone that you were a professional player."

Nico shook his head, his jaw clenching. "It just seems pretty convenient, don't you think?"

"Convenient?" Jean's voice rose slightly, her pulse quickening. "Nico, I'm here to do my job. I got this internship on my own merit. I didn't come here for you."

He stood there, silent, and she could see the gears turning in his head. His arms uncrossed, his expression softening slightly. "I just... it feels like you kept something from me."

"I didn't keep anything from you. I didn't know. If I had, I probably wouldn't have even..." She stopped herself, realizing she was about to say too much. "Look, I'm here for work, okay? Whatever happened between us that night was just that--one night. Can we not make this a bigger deal than it is?"

He wanted to believe her--she could see that--but something was holding him back.

Jean waited for him to say something, but when he didn't, she sighed and moved back towards the door. "I'm going to get back into work. We don't have to do this every time we're in the same room."

She opened the door, but just before stepping out, she heard Nico speak again, his voice softer this time. "Jean."

She paused but didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

Jean closed her eyes for a moment, letting his words sink in. Then, without another word, she left the room.

Nico sat down on the bench after she left, his head in his hands. Damn it. He hadn't meant to sound so accusatory, but the whole situation was messing with his head. He'd assumed he'd never see her again, as fun as their night was.

But now here she was, working with the team, and it felt like everything had turned upside down.

He wanted to believe her. Wanted to believe that she didn't know who he was, that their meeting was just some random chance. But his gut was telling him otherwise. Years in the spotlight had made him suspicious of people's motives, and it was hard to shake that feeling.

But what now? Could they really just go back to pretending that night hadn't happened? And even if they did, could he ignore the way he felt every time she was in the same room as him?

He groaned, rubbing his temples. This wasn't what he needed right now. With the season in full swing and the pressure mounting, the last thing he wanted was a distraction--especially one in the form of a 5'4" physio intern.

Jean leaned against the wall outside the training room. She didn't know what Nico expected from her. She had been honest--she hadn't known who he was, and she certainly hadn't planned for their lives to tangle like this. But it seemed like no matter what she said, Nico would still have that doubt hanging over him.

This internship was her chance to prove herself, to build a career for herself in sports therapy, and she was not going to let a one-night stand ruin that. But how could she work in this environment with Nico constantly questioning her motives?

She pushed herself off the wall, straightening her jacket. She would handle this like a professional--keep her head down, do her job, and avoid any more drama with Nico.

~~

It had been a few weeks since her confrontation with Nico, and things had settled into an uneasy rhythm. Jean still managing to avoid him as much as possible, focused on her work and trying to put everything else behind her. They kept their distance.

But lately, Jean hadn't been feeling like herself. She was exhausted all the time, her appetite was off, and every morning, a wave of nausea seemed to hit her the second she got out of bed. At first, she chalked it up to stress--between dealing with Nico and trying to prove herself at work, it made sense that her body was a bit upset with her.

Then she realized her period was late. Very late.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Jean stared at the calendar app on her phone, counting the days. The realization hit her like a truck.

No. There was no way.

Her hands shook as she tossed her phone aside and quickly got dressed. There was no sense in waiting. Either she was pregnant or she wasn't. There was no inbetween here.

The drugstore was a blur, her heart in her throat as she made her way down the aisle, grabbing a pregnancy test off the shelf and heading straight to a cash register. The cashier rang her up without a word, and before she knew it, she was back in her apartment, staring at the small box like it was a ticking time bomb.

She took a long, deep breath, ripping the box open and reading the instructions, though she didn't really need to. She already knew how it worked. She just didn't want to face the possibility of what those two little lines might mean.

A few minutes later, she sat on the floor of her bathroom, the test clutched in her hands. The seconds felt like hours as she waited for the result, her heart pounding in her ears.

Finally, she looked down.

Two lines. Positive.

She forgot how to breathe, the room seeming to tilt around her. She blinked, staring at the test in disbelief. Pregnant. She was pregnant.

This couldn't be happening. She wasn't ready for this--she had just started her career, barely knew what she was doing, and now... this? And then, as if on cue, another thought pushed its way through: Nico.

Oh my god. Nico.

She hadn't seen much of him lately, but there was no escaping this. He had to know. It wasn't just her life that was about to change--it was his, too.

Jean sat there for a long minute, staring blankly at the test, trying to process the new information. She knew what she would have to do. She had to tell Nico. There was no way around it.

Or she could just flee the country and--

No, she had to tell Nico.

~~

Jean found herself standing outside the locker room after practice, her heart racing as she clutched the little plastic stick in her bag. She had rehearsed the conversation in her head a thousand times, but now that she was there, the words seemed to vanish.

The door swung open, and she saw Nico walking out, towel slung around his neck, still dripping from the shower. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her standing there, his expression unreadable.

"Jean." His voice was cautious, and she could clearly make out the hestitation in his eyes. Neither of them had spoken much since their argument, but now, the tension felt even thicker than before.

"I need to talk to you."

He nodded slowly, stepping aside to let her in. He led her down the hall to a more private corner, where the noise of the players faded away. Jean took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag as she tried to find the right words.

"Nico," she started, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to stay calm. "I didn't want to have this conversation like this, but... there's something you need to know."

Nico's postured stiffened, his brow furrowed. "What is it?"

Jean swallowed hard and reached into her bag, pulling out the test. She held it up, her heart rattling her bones. "I'm pregnant."

For a second, Nico just stared at her, his eyes widening as he registered what she'd just said. He looked at the test in her hand, then back at her face, as if waiting for her to tell him it was a joke.

But it wasn't.

"You're... what?" His voice was low, disbelieving, as if he couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

"I'm pregnant," she repeated, her throat tightening as she said the words out loud. "And it's yours."

Nico took a step back, running a hand through his damp hair, his expression changing every second. "How? I mean... we were careful. Right?"

Jean shook her head, feeling a lump form in her throat. "I thought so too, but... things happen. Condoms break. And now..." She trailed off, not sure what else to say. The truth was staring them both in the face, and there was no avoiding it.

Nico let out a sharp breath, "So, what now? You expect me to just... what, drop everything and deal with this?"

"No, Nico. I'm not asking for anything. I just thought you had a right to know."

His voice rose, "Right to know? You drop this on me and think it's just about telling me? Jean, this changes everything. I--"

He stopped himself, running his hands over his face as if he was trying to keep his emotions in check. When he looked over at her again, his eyes were filled with something darker, something that made Jean's stomach twist with dread.

"Did you do this on purpose?" he asked, his voice quieter, but no less harsh.

"What? No! How could you even think that?"

"I don't know," Nico snapped. "But this whole thing... it just feels off. You show up here, you get this job, and now, suddenly, you're pregnant? It's too much of a coincidence."

"You think I planned this? That I wanted to trap you or something?"

"I don't know, Jean," he shook his head. "But you have to admit, this timing is--"

"Don't," Jean cut him off, her voice trembling with emotion. "Don't accuse me of something like that. I didn't plan this, and I certainly didn't expect this to happen. Do you think I want to be in this position? Do you think I'm thrilled about this? Because I'm not."

Nico stared at her, his jaw clenched tight, but he didn't say anything. The silence between them was thick and heavy, filled with everything they weren't saying, and everything they were too afraid to admit.

"I came to you because I thought you deserved to know," she continued. "But if you can't even trust me enough to believe this wasn't some scheme, then maybe this was a mistake."

Nico opened his mouth to say something, but Jean didn't give him a chance. She shook her head, turning on her heel and walking out of the locker room before the tears she had been holding back could fall.

He stood there, frozen, as she walked out. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind still processing the news.

Pregnant. She was pregnant.

And it was his.

He sank onto the bench, running a hand through his hair, his breath coming in short bursts. This wasn't how he expected his life to go. He wasn't ready for this--hell, he didn't even know how to process it. But Jean... her words echoed in his head, over and over again.

I didn't plan this. I certainly didn't expect this to happen.

He wanted to believe her. He really did. But his trust had been shaken too many times before, and now, with this bombshell, he didn't know how to handle it. He wasn't ready to be a father. He wasn't ready for the responsibility that came with that. But ready or not, this was happening. And no matter how confused or scared he was, he had to figure out how to deal with it. Because whatever he was feeling, Jean was feeling 100 times worse.

~~

The days after her confrontation with Nico were a blur for Jean. She threw herself into her work, doing her best to push the pregnancy--and Nico's harsh words--out of her mind. But it wasn't easy. Every morning brought a fresh wave of vomitting and a reminder of the reality she was living.

She was pregnant. And Nico's reaction had shattered whatever fragile understanding they had left.

Her body was feeling the effects, and every small change was another punch to the face. She was on her own now, and it terrified her. She had spent sleepless nights wondering if Nico would come around or if she would have to face this all on her own.

But how could he accuse her of something so cruel? After everything, he thought she'd tried to trap him, as if she was that kind of person. The more she thought about it, the more it hurt.

And yet, despite everything, part of her still wanted to reach out. To hear him say he didn't mean it. But the silence between them stretched on, and Jean knew better than to hope for an apology that might never come.

Nico hadn't been himself since Jean dropped the news. He tried to focus on hockey, tried to throw himself into practice and games, but it wasn't working. His mind was always somewhere else, replaying Jean showing him the test.

He had fucked up. He knew it.

After Jean had walked out, he had sat there for what felt like hours, going over everything in his head. The way she looked at him when she told him she was pregnant--the hurt in her voice when he accused her of trapping him. And the worst part? He knew she was telling the truth. Deep down, he knew she hadn’t planned any of this.

But his fear had gotten the better of him. The weight of his responsibilities as team captain, his career, his life in the public eye--it had all come crashing down the moment Jean told him she was pregnant, and instead of handling it with maturity, he had lashed out.

He had always been guarded, always cautious about letting people in. Too many times, he'd been burned by people that only cared about his status. But Jean wasn't like that. She hadn't even known who he was when they met. She hadn't wanted anything from him--at least, not until now.

Now, she was carrying his child, and instead of being there for her, he had accused her of manipulating him.

"You're an idiot, Hischier," he mumbled to himself as he sat alone in the locker room after practice. He didn't know how to fix this, but he knew he had to do something. He couldn't leave things like this--not with Jean, and not with the baby.

He wasn't ready to be a father. Hell, he didn't even know where to begin. But ready or not, this was happening, and he couldn't just shut it out and walk away from it.

Taking a deep breath, Nico pulled out his phone and stared at Jean's name in his contacts. She'd given it to all the players in case they ever needed to schedule a last minute appointment. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before he finally worked up the courage to send a message.

Can we talk?

Jean was in the middle of finishing up a session with Dawson when her phone buzzed. She glanced down, considering ignoring it when she saw Nico's name. Wanting him to feel the way she did when she first found out. But her curiousity--and the small part of her that still thought he'd apologize--won out.

She opened the message, reading his simple yet heavy request. She sighed, weighing her options. Part of her wanted to tell him no, to make him feel the rejection she had been feeling. But she wasn't that kind of person, and this wasn't just about her anymore. She had to do what was best for her baby.

Ok. When?

His response was immediate. After practice tomorrow. I'll meet you at the training room.

She wasn't sure what to expect from this conversation, but she had to find out where they stood. She had to know if he was going to step up or leave this for her to manage on her own.

~~

Jean didn't really want to have this conversation, but she knew she had to. She had felt angry, hurt, and confused for days now. Whatever happened next, she knew she had to handle it.

Nico arrived after a few minutes, looking as tired and conflicted as she was. His eyes met hers, but neither of them spoke. Everything felt heavy and uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," Nico blurted out. "For what I said. For how I reacted."

Jean just blinked, caught off guard by his apology. She hadn't expected one to come at all, let alone this quickly.

"I was scared. I freaked out. I'm not proud of it, but I did. This wasn't something I had ever imagined happening to me, and I... I didn't handle it well.

She nodded slowly, listening to everything he had to say. She could hear the sincerity in his voice, the guilt that had been eating at him. But it didn't erase the pain of what he'd said before.

"I didn't want to hurt you. And I didn't mean what I said. I don't think you trapped me. I don't think you planned this."

"You really hurt me, Nico. I didn't ask for this either. I wasn't trying to ruin your life or mess with your career. I was just as shocked as you were."

"I know. I know that now. And I'm sorry. I've been a fucking idiot."

"What happens now?"

Nico rubbed the back of his neck, "I don't know. But I do know that I'm not going to walk away from this. From you. I... I'm scared, Jean. I've never been this scared in my life. I don't know what I'm doing. But I want to figure it out. I want to be there."

Jean felt some relief wash over her, but she wasn't ready to let go of all her reservations quite yet. "You don't have to have all the answers right now, Nico. But I need to know you're going to be there. For me and for our baby."

"I will. I promise."

There was still so much they had to figure out, so many challenges ahead, but at least they were on the same page. At least now, they were facing everything together.

[aficionadoenthusiast]

i love how the show seems to be setting up a theme of responsibility because i think it's another way they're showcasing percy's fatal flaw really well. to him, relationships aren't responsibility, they're just love and trust, but to everyone else it's responsibility to be a good friend, a good parent, a good child, a good sibling, etc., and that sense of responsibility is so easy to manipulate. and percy's having none of it. echidna can easily tell annabeth she disappointed her mom because that's what she's been afraid of the whole time, bonus points if this turns out to be a lie. annabeth can take to heart percy saying they'll never be friends because she doesn't know how to be one yet. kronos can get luke to his side by telling him he's not doing enough to keep the other demigods safe. clarisse can spend her free time beating up the new kid because she thinks that's what her dad wants. but this won't work on percy because percy doesn't give a single shit about the dad that never showed. he doesn't want a relationship? fine, weapon of indifference. no love lost. his loyalties can stay with the mortals that care about him. and that's what luke doesn't get. the demigods don't need a savior to tear down olympus. they just need someone to show them that they don't have to care about the gods one way or another. loyalty is sacred but it's so easily earned. you're either frolicking in this field with me or against me and bro's got a scorpion from the guy who ate his kids

[astrobydalia]

more observations (lost count)✨

Hello guys! Life's been crazy lately and I barely have time to make any of the master posts I wanted to, so you'll be getting lost of observation posts that I've been collecting in my drafts for the past months. As always, enjoy!

❗️long post

work by astrobydalia

✨ Sagittarius and Aquarius are so fucking similar. Both of them are chaotic af, love their freedom and think they're smarter than everyone else. People who have both of these in their big 6 have the most unhinged

✨ Libra is WAY more obsessed with perfection than Virgo

✨ Whenever I had Libra or Taurus ASC on my Solar return chart I was lazy AS FUCK. I had no motivation to work whatsoever during those years, all I wanted to do was vibe and enjoy life. I also felt very relaxed and stress-free, when difficulties came I just went with the flow

✨ What is up with Gemini risings and always feeling intellectually insecure all the time? Literally their #1 insecurity is feeling like they are dumb or like they’re not good enough for highly abstract and intellectual tasks/professions. They come across as someone immature who lacks wisdom or has a superficial/simplistic view of things. I feel like this is because they attract people who are a bit of know-it-alls (Sagittarius DSC) and they have a reputation for being scattered-brained (Pisces 10th house) so people tent to infantilize them a lot.

^^^But let me tell you this not true at all, Gemini risings are some of the most brilliant people I’ve met with so much potential. Their problem is that they allow overthinking to get the best of them and end up doubting themselves 24/7. These are the type of people who have amazing ideas but they never pursue any them. They really struggle making decisions for themselves, they always need to ask for opinions first which is not a bad thing but this makes them come across as incapable or as someone who lacks self-sufficiency

✨ Mercurial signs (Virgo and Gemini) like to focus on concrete things and immediate reality, they process life by connecting one thing at a time and taking info as it comes, they focus on what's going on around them cause Mercury is all about multiplicity and details. With Jupiter signs on the other hand (Sag and Pisces) one thing about them is they don't care about details as long as things make sense as a whole, they see life from a more broad and general perspective, they prefer having a birds eye view of things because Jupiter is all about expansion and therefore it likes to encompass many things at once. This is why Virgo and Gemini rule mundane life themes and immediate reality while Sag and Pisces are more about general life lessons and higher knowledge

✨ Scorpio moons/8th house moons are the definition of an energy vampire fr. They just have a really poor understanding of healthy emotional boundaries, they expect you to give your all but aren't willing to reciprocate and always turn everything into a manipulation or mind game somehow which makes it pretty exhausting to be around them in the long run. Don't get me wrong, most of the ones I’ve met were very and good people but they always end up taking my energy away and make me feel emotionally burnt out

✨ Mercury-Mars aspects have this "it is what it is" mentality and really dislike over complicating things by reading too deep into them. They tend to think things exactly as they seem. This does not mean they're simplistic, on the contrary this makes them surprisingly insightful fast thinkers and are not the type to be easily fooled

✨ I've seen people saying that hard aspects between Mercury-Pluto makes people misunderstand your words. This is not true, this happens with Neptune cause Neptune rules delusion, but Pluto is a very blunt and straightforward planet cause it's all about revealing the dark truths. Mercury-Pluto aspects makes someone very deliberate with their words and they know exactly what to say to make their message stick. You will understand their words exactly how they want you to understand them. What happens with hard aspects is that the native tends to have a more provocative approach in the things they say, they don't care if you're offended by what they say as long as what they say makes an impact. People can misunderstand their intentions because of this, but not their words

✨ The ironic thing about Aquarius placements is that they are very good when it comes to connecting with the masses, the public usually feels very drawn to them because they're very good at appealing to collective values which makes them come across as relatable to many people as a result. However, when you actually try to relate to them or connect one-on-one, you will find yourself with someone that is surprisingly elusive, distant and more distrustful than Scorpio placements which is a huge contrast from the welcoming vibe they give off to the public. I've found that the only way you will get close to an Aquarius placements is on THEIR terms lmao, if they've decided they like you, it'll be them who will approach you and/or make the effort to engage with you

✨ A reocurring thing I've seen with Virgo placements is that they really dislike big changes and prefer to stay in control. I think this is not mentioned often cause it's kinda weird to say that about a mutable sign, but Virgos being mercury+earth ruled they feel comfortable relying on facts, data, observations, etc and they use all this tangible info to navigate reality, that's why they rule daily life and routines because they invest a lot of their energy on factually understanding and categorizing their reality (earth signs in general are very attached to the tangible). Their mutable nature shows in that they easily use their knowledge to adapt, find solutions and fix what’s wrong but when they are in situations where these "categories" prove to be useless (aka Pisces themes), they get very triggered cause that means they no longer have control of their reality

✨ That being said another reoccurring thing I’ve noticed with Virgo placements is that they love to predict things. But not in a mystical sense it’s more like they enjoy understanding things in such way that they’re able to easily put a label on them and easily predict what’s going on or how something works

✨ I have not seen a single Taurus placement who didn’t have the most insanely sexy and pleasant voice ever. Doesn’t matter if they sing of not, just hearing their voice is so delightful

✨ Aquarius Mercury really believe their opinions are the most ultimate and correct opinions out there. They are certain that their judgment is always 100% objective (aka always true) so in their mind if you slightly disagree with them that means you’re mediocre, dumb or narrow-minded.

✨ There's always a duality in all mutable signs. Sagittarius can be very humorous and optimistic but also very dark and profound. Gemini can be curious and chaotic but also very analytical and logical. Virgo can be picky and perfectionistic but also very permissive and conformist. Pisces can be very compassionate and wise but also very detached and clueless

✨ Neptune does not do well in air houses/signs at all simply because air energy rules (different types of) information and connections, while Neptune is all delusion and confusion. Also air energy is purely cerebral and rational while Neptune appeals to the unconscious

✨ I have not fact-checked this but I feel like it's safe to say that Mars rules testosterone. Testosterone is a hormone associated to violence or impulsive behavior, sex drive, red blood cells (blood), masculinity, etc That's literally all mars

✨ People always talk about how Capricorn moons have had a rough life but I've noticed this is also very true for Sagittarius Moons?? Responsibilities are not imposed on them like Capricorn, in their case they have to build up wisdom about life through pure and raw experience without anyone giving them a heads up or any pointers first, that's why they grow up feeling like they're fully on their own. Things work out for them at the end but they always have most MESSY life experience it's really crazy

✨ Both domicile and afflicted Mars are ambitious and determined but the main difference is that Libra/Taurus/Cancer Mars need to find some type of enjoyment or fulfillment in their goals in order to get motivated while Capricorn/Aries/Scorpio Mars find motivation in the challenge and endure through stuff they don't find pleasant

✨ From what I've seen males with Scorpio placements are very superficial and will gaslight as a lifestyle. They are the type of people who look the other way or brush things off or never takes anything seriously and I've noticed they do this so they never have to take accountability.

✨ Neptune/Pisces energy either gives “glamorous and ethereal” vibes or “weird in an extremely cringe way” vibes, there’s no in-between

✨ A reoccurring thing I've noticed with those who have Chiron in Taurus/2nd house or Chiron-Venus is that they often have dubious morality or double standards because they don't have a solid values

✨ Every single Libra Moon/rising female I’ve met embodied the material girl stereotype. They really have this “instagram girl” vibes to them if that makes sense

✨ Those with Sagittarius in the 5th house can actually find a lot of joy and happiness in becoming parents or they have a lot of fun with children

✨ Scorpio Mars can't stand not knowing what's going on around them and at first I thought this was bc they were suspicious/paranoid but then I realized it’s because they’re just controlling as shit. They come across as very chill and care fee but they’re actually SUPER controlling dude. Even when they know for sure that they can trust you and you’re doing nothing wrong they still want to keep taps on you and won’t leave you alone. They won't bluntly violate your privacy but will still find ways to always know what you're up to

✨ The resentful and spiteful stereotype associated to Scorpio actually belongs to Leo placements imo. They can be very reactive and childish when you insult their ego and will make it very known that they won't let it go

✨ Cancer North Node people always have some sort of issue or inner conflict with of having kids. They feel drawn to the idea of becoming a parent but deep down they low-key don't? I've also seen many women with this placement who had fertility issues

I have the theory that these natives are conflicted in this topic because they see family as an achievement or a societal expectation (Capricorn south node) so in this life time they have to know what it's like to desire a family for the right reasons and not because they feel like they 'should'

✨ Capricorn risings really are hyper-aware of their public image and how others perceive them. That's why they always end up becoming very popular and respected, cause they know very well where they "stand" publicly so they know how to successfully curate their own reputation. It's not surprising to see this placement a lot in celebrities

✨ Pluto in the 12th house are genuinely unsure of who they can trust which leads to a lot of paranoia and projection. The type to ignore the most obvious red flags but then automatically doubt your loyalty cus you spoke in a suspicious tone

✨ Pisces/12th house placements 🤝 disappearing. Y’all shit on Gemini for ghosting but have you ever met a pisces/12th houser?

✨ Saturn in 5th house people had parents (namely father) who were overly critical of them and their self-expression. Doesn’t necessarily mean they were unsupportive of the native but they were quite hard on the native’s creativity

✨ I've seen a lot of bullies/mean girls have Aquarius placements. Honorable mentions: virgo, Leo, libra

✨ Neptune-ASC people are really good at making themselves invisible when they want and/or making parts of themselves go completely unnoticed even if they're bluntly obvious. I've noticed they actually get away with a lot cause they have this tendency to not be accurately seen by others if that makes sense

✨ Neurodivergent individuals usually have Mercury harshly aspecting (conjunction, square, opposition and inconjuction) Uranus and Saturn. Said Mercury is more often than not in a water house/sign/degree or in Aries. Of course not everyone with these aspects will be neurodivergent, but it's just a pattern I've seen

✨ Pluto-ASC people most of the times fail to have a lighthearted view towards life. They always want to look beyond the surface of things which doesn't really allow them to enjoy life as it is. They often get a reputation for looking too deep into everything and in turn the Pluto-asc native often sees others as superficial

✨ Virgo risings are huge conformist and won’t go after anything that’s outside their immediate boundaries. They only make an effort towards things that are accessible and will quickly lose interest in anything that has difficult availability or requires them to go way out of their comfort zone. They're overall pretty self-serving.

✨ I know several people diagnosed with OCD. All of them have Virgo AND 6th house placements, 22º in their big 3, Scorpio Mercury/Moon and Mercury dominance

work by astrobydalia

[mixtapedoh]

and it was all yellow | y.j.

welcome back to SVTU ! lost your way? refer to our campus map for directions.

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader with guest appearances from c. seungcheol, h. joshua, w. junhui, and more !

word count: ~5.9k genre: neighbors to friends to lovers warnings: language, intermittent Lore Dumping™ (i have to kick us off into svtu somehow), jeonghan is a little shit, light suggestive themes (heavily lampshaded and perhaps only occuring twice?)

☄. *. ⋆

olive's notes: these individual headcanon sets are going to be very ~stream of consciousness~, so bear with me, here. second, cheol and jeonghan are brothers (and there's a secret third brother i'll introduce eventually, don't you worry), also, thank you for stopping by <3. now here's the content you signed up for.

☄. *. ⋆

now playing... ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ... ⌜ angel baby — troye sivan ⌟

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW ☄. *. ⋆

— it all started when jeonghan realized that jun was loaded.

now, don't get him wrong. it wasn't as though he had befriended jun because jeonghan had been looking for someone rich and easily persuaded. it's not like jeonghan used his ineffable charm to win over the quasi-cryptid that was wen junhui because of jun's apparent legacy funds.

not that jeonghan couldn't have done — he clearly had the persuasion and cunning to do it — he just didn't. jeonghan wasn't in need of someone else's money. please. he was very capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much, he was just also, however, very good at knowing things.

especially those things that could be used to his advantage.

— and well... wen junhui was loaded. wealthy as shit. a classic trust fund baby. a walking dollar sign that just so happened to share classes with jeonghan every year since he started SVTU as a political science major (of arts, of course. he hadn't taken latin in high school to not absolutely crush the romance languages in uni).

— you see, SVTU had this fun little program for long-suffering students interested in the government and manipulating it to their will wherein if you took merger courses — lectures that ate up a hell of a lot of your time and money but gave substantial credit hours that counted for both applied and allied course credit — you could get a jump start on your degree, be offered more opportunities for internship, and explore a subject's "many facets" through "multiple lenses."

to jeonghan, it meant working faster and harder so that he might graduate early and get into the actual politics of pol sci quicker — at a more “genius” and “revolutionary” age.

(half of politics, after all, was being appealing enough to make headlines. there wasn’t time to waste, in the long run.)

to wen junhui it had to mean something different — after all, jun was a pre-law student with a completely different career path from the other party involved (though jeonghan had considered law at one point in time — something he’s not above admitting though certainly not pining after). merger courses for him likely meant an expedited process to law school. but that was truly beside the point. an aside.

— what mattered in the end, was that jeonghan and jun had more than enough shared merger courses to go around, and in the process of things, had gone from strangers to acquaintances, then study partners (blame it on the fact that jun — the altruistic leaning bastard he was — actually tutored in his free time. willingly. as in, not a joke.) to committed group project members, and eventually to that nebulous thing called friendship.

ask them both when that final stage commenced and you’d get varying responses — jeonghan always far more generous than jun in such regards, but almost annoyingly so, like he wanted to be the one leaning more on the ridiculous.

— yes, it was quite a ways into their friendship when jeonghan learned that wen junhui, his sweet jun, was loaded. like, living alone off of campus in his own two bedroom apartment on the wealthy side of the city that prospered from the University Living Aesthetic™, loaded. as in, so loaded he could have easily found more than enough willing bodies to become roommates with him and help pay for the exorbitant expenses but simply decided against it because he hadn’t, and i quote “thought about it before.”

“never thought about it? jun. how much does this place cost?”

and jun had to think for a minute. genuinely think about how much he paid in monthly rent. “i suppose for a month’s rent i pay around… [REDACTED].”

and jeonghan was no stranger to dramatics, to be sure, but anyone else would have gaped the same as him. “[REDACTED]??”

"[REDACTED]."

"...shit."

— yes, jeonghan finding out that jun was loaded, living in a (rather well kept) apartment with an empty room, no roommates, and an assortment of (dying) houseplants that needed care, was truly the beginning of it all.

— after all, while the chaos settled in a year after the fact when he and joshua would finally move in with jun because of circumstances that aren't truly relevant to the here and now, all true origins start a little before dramatic changes. there's always a gentle precursor, something soft that sets the stage. rumblings of change are necessary forefathers to the strength of revolution; jeonghan learning that jun was a walking line of credit with property to his name and a work ethic that would make any professor blush was necessary groundwork for the events that would follow.

and goddamn, if things didn't follow.

— but i suppose, if we're back tracking all the way to jeonghan and shua moving in with jun on one very ill timed sunday (jun had an exam in his special topics in deviance, crime, & the law course the next day), we are also brushing up against jeonghan meeting you.

another precursor to the chaos that would follow. another tremor that would shake the ground and cause things to tumble.

— you also lived in the terraces on 17th and attended svtu. you lived on the same floor as jun — two apartments down from his, no less — and his first week there, you showed jeonghan the campus shuttle routes that passed right outside the complex (he'd come to learn that the domino route was the one you took most often, as it led right to the heart of the university, but the pinwheel route was also a convenient option for evening courses).

— you and jeonghan weren't friends right away. no, you were always a friendly face around the complex and a decent conversationalist when stuck in the elevator together, but it wasn't as though you and jeonghan became fast friends. you were just neighbors for a while; just another person grabbing mail on monday afternoons, stopping at the in-residence coffee shop on bleak wednesday mornings, ordering pizza on saturday evenings and giving joshua a slice after he weaponizes his big, brown eyes.

— and then came The Series of Fire Alarm Mishaps.

— you see, at some point in the middle of the semester, someone new moved into the apartment building, in the same hall as you and jeonghan. at first, you barely even noticed the change, and then they started cooking.

— which wouldn't have been a problem. if they had been good at it.

the first few times the (incredibly loud and not unreasonably sensitive) fire alarms from down the hall had gone off, it had been unfortunate - a mild nuisance that disrupted what jeonghan had been doing, and nothing more. but then, the first few times became multiple, and from multiple, came a pattern. every other day, at least twice, the fire alarm next door would go off. and it would always be at different times - breakfast, the afternoon, early evening, even sometimes at 1:28 in the morning. the fire alarm would sound, and while it would mostly be no longer than a minute or two, it was still enough to be irritating.

you and jeonghan talked about it every time you saw each other in passing, or just so happened to be taking the same shuttle to campus (which happened quite often, anymore, since jeonghan enrolled in an extra course to help him graduate all the sooner). your neighbor and that damn fire alarm. your neighbor and their inability to cook, yet unnecessary dedication to the craft. you both joked about the inevitability of them actually burning the apartment down.

— and then, one day, the fire alarm went off at 2:19, waking jeonghan up out of a dead sleep (he hadn't meant to fall asleep at his desk, and his neck would pay for it all the next day). he heard it, and immediately decided to ignore it, knowing it would stop soon.

but then it didn't.

at about 3.5 minutes of non-stop alarms, jeonghan was annoyed enough that he left his room and staggered into the kitchen for some water, where shua and jun were already waiting around, likely with the same idea (though it was clear that shua hadn't ever fallen asleep, and perhaps jun was in the same boat, though he'd changed into sweats and a light t-shirt).

at about 6 minutes, jeonghan opened the door to see if anyone else was, well... concerned.

and at 13 minutes, he was standing outside in the brisk autumn air, agreeing with jun as he whispered that if there wasn't an actual fire but just their talentless neighbor attempting to cook in the middle of the night, he was going to kill the bastard himself.

— and there, in the middle of all this stupidity — sleepily rocking back and forth from one foot to another — and on the other side of him, was you.

— and, well, when you offered to buy him and the rest of his roommates coffee at the convenience store that was just down the street, not far, he couldn't do much beyond say yes. what was he going to do? decline your offer?

and so all four of you walked to the convenience store and aimlessly wound your way through the almost neon colored aisles. jeonghan used the opportunity to stick to you like glue and get you to open up — about yourself and your roommates, both of whom had gone home for two weeks for (separate) family vacations (not that you were jealous. clearly the superior option was to stay at the apartment, embroiled in course work and standing outside at 2:00 am because of some loser neighbor who can't cook a singular meal without burning the building to the ground, and yet refuses to have anything delivered).

— in the end, the fire hadn't been bigger than something contained in the pan ("thank god," you had said, shaking your hands in lackluster triumph, "i have a physics exam next week. i need those notes more than you know"), but at only 4 months of having a new neighbor, someone new moved in within 2 weeks at most. and, after being neighbors for almost 7 months, you and jeonghan were decidedly friends.

after all, you bought him a triangular gimbap, ice cream, and convenience store coffee. jun had slipped away with just a banana milk (which he promptly paid back the next day), and shua nearly bought out the whole store once the two of you got to talking about the best midnight (and hours after) snacks lining the walls. at the least, he was indebted to you, which could only be solved by more trips to the convenience store with more mindless conversation, and more time for the both of you to endear yourself to the other.

and the way jeonghan saw it, friendship at that point was inevitable. especially when, at the start of the next semester, you and jeonghan both had an early morning class and used the domino route to get to class via campus shuttle.

(and sure, jun had an early class, too, and drove himself to campus everyday, meaning jeonghan could have easily just gotten a ride, but he didn't. for no particular reason, really, he just never did; but one frost bitten morning after a snowstorm, when jeonghan was waiting at the shuttle stop and you stood beside him, bundled up in a thick winter coat and rubbing the tips of your fingers to keep them warm, you turned to him, the cord of the wired headphones the both of you always shared swaying from the movement (a streak of yellow against all this white, the sun in the middle of stark winter), and smiled, "i'm glad you're here with me." and maybe — just maybe — that was reason enough.)

— and thus, for reasons above explained, in the end, it all started with jeonghan learning jun was loaded. if it weren't for that simple knowledge, he wouldn't be anywhere near where he currently stood.

— which was the open doorway of jun's apartment, garbage in hand, falling in love with you.

"what?"

and you at least had the presence of mind to be flustered by it.

jeonghan could laugh, really. "is that my jacket?"

it totally was, and perhaps the way you fiddled with the sleeve of it and scoffed awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes, was the true giveaway that you knew it most certainly was. "i don't know, is it?"

you were met with smug silence, so of course, you'd elaborate.

"i thought it belonged to my ex. i just chose what looked the warmest. it's storming out there — you might want something more than a sweatshirt if you're taking that all the way to cans." you gestured to the garbage bag — a detail jeonghan had almost forgotten at the sight of you in his clothing.

"you think your ex would have bought that?"

of course he wasn't going to take your bait in changing the subject. that would make things easy. you rolled your eyes, spinning your key ring and making it jingle. "hoseok has great style. it's just different from yours."

"and that jacket is more my style than his."

"it is," you conceded. under jeonghan's gaze you stuck one half of the jacket out, towards him. "do you want it now? you'll need it out there."

"i don't think i will. not when i'll have your sunny presence to warm me."

and for a split second your eyes narrowed. you had just come in from the storm — that much was plain to see from the wet of the jacket to the reusable grocery bag in your hand, full of pantry odds and ends. there was no need to go back out, and you and jeonghan both knew it. and not to mention that the invitation (thinly veiled) was unattractive — stay inside where it was warm or brave the stormy weather once more, all for a garbage run?

"race you to the elevator."

— and see, the truth of the fact was, it wasn't as though you made it difficult to fall in love with you (though even if you had, jeonghan would have liked the challenge, perhaps. there's fun in plenty of things). you were generous, a good conversationalist, you bitched about people with jeonghan but still tried to see the best in them, you were knowledgeable about the most random yet oddly applicable things, and for all of his teasing, you put up with him. perhaps enjoyed him.

— it certainly confused seungcheol, to say the least (but don't such things always confuse brothers).

"as someone who's had a lifetime to cherish your personality, there has to be something wrong with this y/n if they're willingly spending time with you. i'm trying to save my soul, putting up with you on the daily. they have no excuse."

"if i'm going to respond to that, you'll have to give me five minutes to run first."

and it ended with jeonghan quickly pushing away from the table, trying to duck out of seungcheol's grasp; but of course, the older brother and president of the boxing club would get him anyway, and through laughter, attempt to knock some humility into jeonghan (it wouldn't stick).

— but no need to focus on all of that, now. after all, this deep into the semester, jeonghan was busy enough without Crippling Thoughts of Romance.

— the worst damage you wrought thus far was making him choke that day you wandered into karaoke club and he was in the middle of a duet joshuji had managed to cajole him into doing on the spot (you swore up and down that you didn't know he was even in the club to begin with, but something about your flustered behavior and shua's glee at the whole affair made him consider otherwise); while it had been a (minor, he claimed) blow to his pride, it was easily pushed aside. jihoon, the bastard, might bring it up on occasion — the one (1) time angel voice yoon jeonghan chokes, and it's all on camera — but other than that, jeonghan? cool as a cucumber.

the last thing he'd do is be awkward around a crush. jeonghan was cool; jeonghan was suave; jeonghan was speaking in the third person because joshuji had been on a self-love bender a few months back and had said daily affirmations into the mirror every morning, and after finding out and teasing him relentlessly for it, jeonghan unfortunately picked up the habit.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— and now that we've gotten this far, i suppose it's time we bring up Jeonghan Habits™ because there were many, the closer you and jeonghan got to each other, strings of fate drawing you ever nearer, joining you at the hip.

— for one, it seemed that ever since that first unfortunately timed run to the convenience store at hours after-midnight, jeonghan felt comfortable just showing up at all odd hours of the evening, all messy hair and too-big hooded sweatshirts (most stolen from seungcheol, he'd reveal to you one day when you were confused as to just when jeonghan had picked up a love of coton de tulear puppy conventions — enough to get a commemoriative sweatshirt, no less), with the oh-so-enticing offer of going to grab a snack.

he even called it a date, once, when you were wrapped up in three blankets and your fuzzy house slippers, weakly try to convince him to just rummage through you're cupboards instead

"you're so cold you're going to cancel our date? and here i thought we had something real."

(you'd been so flustered by the whole exchange you simply ended up going to the with him, hoping that the act of Just Doing It would buy you time against his rapid fire machine gun comebacks — probably exactly what the fucker had planned in his 4d chessboard of a brain — and jeonghan took the opportunity to file away in his mind the cute expression that crossed your face in the split second that the words hit you fully in the chest and you floundered, wide-eyed into recovery)

— another, of course, was his habit of casually leaving things at your place whenever the two of you hung out; the first few times he left something — his jacket, a pair of sunglasses, necklaces that you don't ever quite recall him taking off to begin with — you promptly returned it with the naive belief that it was a one-off mistake not like to happen again. but it just kept happening, and so eventually, you just stopped returning.

if it were important, jeonghan would have texted you about it — he texted you about all kinds of random things, anyway, his lost socks would be no more strange than texts of ootds or how particularly sparkly his eyes looked that day.

and he never did...

until you started to wear the things he left, of course.

'should i get two of these?' the text came in while you were walking to your next class, taking your sweet time since the weather had cleared up nicely and the campus shuttles were running smoothly — not a single one hand been late all week, a sure change from usual. a moment later your phone chimed again, and jeonghan had sent a picture of a silver ring with a greek key styling. it was cool enough, and fit in nicely with jeonghan's usual style of accessory (not that you were particularly knowledgeable of such things... haha.)

'sure, but why 2?'

'so you can have one of your own instead of stealing it.'

'???!?'

'look at your outfit right now. you're wearing MY necklace. it's been missing for weeks.'

'YOU LEFT IT AT *MY* APARTMENT??????'

'you still have necklaces of your own; didn't have to be mine.'

'😑'

'so what's your ring size?'

'stfu'

— in your defense, you didn't think it was an issue, borrowing the things he'd randomly leave at your apartment. it had started off innocuously enough — seonghwa and momo (your roommates, bless them) needed you to go grab a few last minute ingredients for dinner (they were the ones cooking, so charitably you offered to do the grunt work) and when you couldn't find your own sunglasses, there were jeonghan's, just sitting on your dresser and waiting to be used.

and after that, well... jeonghan had nice style, okay? you were not immune to convenient and accessible clothing. if jeonghan wasn't so forgetful of his own articles of clothing, it wouldn't be the case that you steal his favorite sunglasses and borrow his usual rings and get a little too caught up in the way his cologne lingers on his jackets and night shirts, a smell all-too comforting and somehow tempting...

— you attempted to give the necklace back later that week when you and jeonghan met up to take the domino route to university, but he just shrugged it off and told you that you might as well keep it. he already bought himself another.

and besides. it looked good on you.

— and as for the last of Jeonghan's Habits™ (certified and trademarked, of course, everything jeonghan did was protected by common law)... well... the discovery of this one came later, at a time you weren't expecting it, and so perhaps that explains why it makes you as flustered as it does.

— see, it's of no surprise that yoon jeonghan is clingy in a very positive sense.

being friends with jeonghan is always being kept in the loop, having an ongoing dialogue about most everything, doing lot of Things together and always knowing that if there's something you're even thinking of doing, jeonghan has already cleared his schedule in anticipation of going to do said thing alongside you.

— what surprised you, but really shouldn't have (so perhaps the right word is simply astonished, flustered, made giddy by the realization of), was that he was also very cuddly. and very hard to be talked out of, no less.

— and like, okay, sure, it was kind of hypocritical of you to be taken aback when you'd been indulging jeonghan of his affinity for physical touch for quite some time, now.

the surprise hugs whenever he caught you waiting for the campus shuttle or simply Minding Your Own Business, his inclination towards taking your hand to make you walk a little faster when the two of you were going convenience store diving (yes, again), the quite literal poking and prodding whenever he was attempting to get you to change your mind and agree with his worst impulses... it was all pretty damning, in retrospect. but it never really fazed you: jeonghan's cuddly sort of behavior.

though you had gotten a smug kind of glee whenever you initiated contact and jeonghan's cheeks would warm to a beautiful shade of pink before he'd counter his own seeming embarrassment with a comment like "aaahhhh y/n, you're so familiar, what would others think if they saw you?"

randomly touch jeonghan's forearm, whether to pull him closer for some reason or another or just to softly massage the skin while you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone (instagram scrolling was sacred time you and jeonghan shared — then you didn't have to send him the reel with your comments, you could just tap him on the shoulder and show him). they way jeonghan would get all shy at the touch — like maybe he felt some of those butterflies that perpetually fluttered about in your stomach whenever he was around — was all the satisfaction you could ever need.

— so yes, you were quite used to clingy jeonghan. but cuddly? you had never quite strayed into full cuddle territory... until you did.

— that fateful night, you had lovingly been given notice via a very abrupt group text that you would not be able to return to your apartment for the evening (someone was going to have company over, doing... things that familiar company do) and when you had told jeonghan of your plans to join seonghwa in his trip to the computer rooms at crescent hub (they were open 24 hours and while it was based on reservation, you were almost always able to get a seat), he offered you come to his apartment instead.

either that, or i guess you could spend your time watching the gaming club host whatever tournament they had going on — apparently jun was planning to be gone for Quite Some Time (as a senior member of the club) and shua was there... for moral support? that part was unclear, to be quite honest, but it wasn't as though shua ever needed a reason to be Busy and Outgoing, so it didn't quite matter much, in the end.

"why aren't you at crescent hub with your roommates, then?"

"and encourage them? ah... don't make me look soft."

and you're sure that the way you roll your eyes can be heard through the phone.

"i had an assignment to finish." / "you had work to finish."

"but! it's all been submitted now."

"then i'll meet you."

— after all, it's not like you were a stranger to jun's apartment — you'd hung out there plenty of times as your bond with jeonghan deepened and your friendship to shua and jun grew — and they did have a rather comfy couch... you were almost certain jeonghan's offer implied and unspoken 'you can at least get some comfortable sleep on our vertiable cloud of a couch when i'm done prying at the finer details as to just who momo decided to bring home.'

you both, after all, had a deep-seeded delight for gossip.

— and when you got there, it was exactly what you expected: jeonghan had seemingly raided the pantry finding ingredients so the two of you could make dakdoritang — excepting the carrot, of course.

despite his seeming love for convenience store runs and general lazy attitude toward preparing his own meals, cooking together seemed to be something jeonghan enjoyed lately — or at least, that's what you surmised. to you, it seemed that one day jeonghan woke up and chose cooking as a new hobby.

if you were to ask jeonghan, he would brush it off, of course, probably saying something about his mom visiting and praising jun's affinity for cooking and there was no way jeonghan could let the bastard win — but really all it had taken was one (1) absentminded hand on his chest from you and a "hannie, can you pass me the garlic cloves?" for him to make cooking with you a new personality trait of his. go figure.

— and so the two of you made your stew while debating which movie you should watch when you were done. you ended up compromising on some drama that you'd seen people claim was so bad it was good, and it really was. the cringe,,,, the mutual yelling at the tv,,,,,,, threatening the lives of fictional characters,,,,,,, talking over whole dialogue scenes because you had a brilliant rewrite in mind and jeonghan simply couldn't resist the way you looked when there was an earnestness in your eyes and an opinion on your lips,,,,

it was quite late, indeed, before you even knew it. and when you switched the tv to a music video you really wanted to show jeonghan, the autoplay sort of took over, and your mind sort of shut down... drifted off to sleep.

— you woke up at some point in the early morning; the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening wasn't the sound you were used to, in your apartment two doors down, and it was just enough to snap you awake momentarily, still half in dream yet with one foot in reality.

it was just shua and jun, and they whispered an apology before padding off to their respective rooms (jun his own, shua his shared room with hannie), clearly worn out from their gaming activities.

— but that little push to semi-wakefulness was just enough for you to take stock of where you were, and you noticed belatedly that jeonghan had never left to go back to his room. you were both sleeping on the couch, legs intertwined; jeonghan was resting his head on your shoulder and your hands were reaching out, as if almost to give him a subconscious hug.

— the embarrassment ran through your nervous system almost instantly, and when you made to slowly and gently move your limbs so you were less... interwoven, jeonghan stirred and, still sleeping, pulled you back towards him. perhaps even closer than before.

you couldn't help yourself. a giggle escaped you; perhaps half nerves, mostly endearment. jeonghan stirred again and the sound and you covered your mouth, not wanting to wake him.

he stilled soon enough, and before drifting off again, you kissed him on the forehead.

— when you fully woke up the next morning, jeonghan had already began his day, but he didn't even try to hide the fact that the both of you had unwittingly unlocked a new feature in this friendship of yours. he sort of just... took the night prior as a confirmation that cuddling was on the list of approved actions and refused to let go of you, after.

not that it bothered you, of course.

it just seemed that the butterflies in your stomach were given wild energy at this new development; all your strategies for calming them suddenly ineffective.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— so.

if you had asked jeonghan at any point in his life if he were good at manipulating, his answer would be an unequivocable yes.

deceit? of course.

scheming? obviously.

lying? naturally.

blackmailing? most assuredly.

gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlbossing? undoubtedly.

changing criteria? yes.

moving goalposts? clearly.

hiding the apparent? well...

— see, the thing is... you get so good at the others that concealing the obvious isn't exactly necessary. everyone might know to be wary of the scheming, cheating, self-serving yoon jeonghan, but it didn't change the fact that he was so astute at the rest of it, image didn't exactly matter.

and besides, why save face when it was so fun to see people accuse him of what they were all very aware?

— so yes, jeonghan was quite skilled at all manner of deception. the one facet he was not so adept in was hiding his feelings toward the matter.

— thus, it should be no surprise that everyone and their mother knew jeonghan had a crush.

and it was only getting worse.

— don't ask jun when he put the dots together — he was more emotionally intellectual than he let on most of the time — and don't ask joshuji when either — that fucker had this quirk where he joked about something before it had real honest basis, but in some way only attributed to the gift of clairvoyance, he always seemed to be right. if you were to ask joshua, he'd likely recall the first time he had looked at jeonghan and wiggled his eyebrows and call that he knew then (he didn't; at least, not really).

— as for s.coups... well, don't ever ask cheol anything about jeonghan. he'd rather die than give it to you straight.

please. when he could embarrass jeonghan? seungcheol lives for that shit.

after all, what else are older brothers for?

— so yes, it was obvious to those close to him that jeonghan was in the long-suffering limbo of Having A Thing For Your Best Friend But Not Acting On It, and it had been apparent for months.

— after all, it felt like centuries ago that joshua had offered to play matchmaker for jeonghan and you — the veritable apple of his eye — and set the two of you up on a date.

it had been some lazy morning and jun nearly spit out his breakfast.

"you'd both love it! i'd get jihoon to play something romantic on the violin; well, maybe recorder—"

cue jun choking once more.

"and you could be there waiting in full suit and tie."

"with couples rings waiting in the bread basket." and joshua's eyes went comically and maniacally wide at jun's inclusion.

"ah, cheol would crash any date like that."

"but then y/n could get his blessing!"

— at some point, jun was at his wits end.

in his defense, it was him who had to see the two of you be all sweet and love-struck all the time, giggling and teasing each other on his couch in his apartment while all he's trying to do is eat a sorry excuse of a subway sandwich (eat fresh.) before jetting off to his internship again.

if you had to see that shit while eating soggy bread you'd be annoyed, too.

one more "aigoooo" while jeonghan squishes your cheeks, and you bat him away with a roll of your eyes and jun would take a knife out of the block behind him.

— especially when jeonghan started calling you "angel" at every chance he got. had jun's eye twitching, it did. never had he regretted getting roommates until jeonghan fell in love.

one day jun learned that the phrase "get a room" made at least one of you self conscious enough to at least tone it down, and he never stopped weaponizing it, since.

— of course, overtime jun's protests became background noise, but once, when your roommates and jeonghan's all went to the museum of fine arts together to celebrate the end of finals week (it was free admission so long as you had your svtu activities card), jun had deadpanned his new favorite phrase in the middle of the outdoor conversation area. jeonghan had turned to you grinning, like it was the excuse he'd been waiting for all day, and after a lighthearted "shall we?" you grabbed his hand and the two of you pranced off to explore the sculpture terrace.

jeonghan had raised an eyebrow at your choice of exhibit, but you pulled him over to a sculpture of a human figure with black wings and flashed a smile: “it’s not a private room, but i think it works.”

“if you’d prefer it, i’m sure there’s a custodial closet we could go to instead. i bet there's one right outside, even.”

you snorted. “and if i did kiss you? what would you do then?"

— you stunned him into silence. him. yoon jeonghan. 

— right as he was about to recover and shoot back some smartass comment, you laughed — the sound clear and playful, bright and radiating with warmth — and then you wandered to where they showcased student work.

— umm... uhhh... WHATTHEFUCKWEREYOUDOING WHATTHEFUCKWASGOINGONNNNNN

“angel.”

you hummed absentmindedly, only half hearing jeonghan through the internal screaming reverberating in your skull.

“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”

he was closer now, if you focused, you were sure you could feel him, inching closer, right behind you, just to your right…

— he kissed your cheek: half on the corner of your lips, half on the soft of your skin.

— you couldn’t help yourself. you turned.

“if you were bold enough to kiss me here, i’d kiss you back. then i’d be scandalized, ‘how forward!’”

your mouth opened: in shock, in delight, in laughter, in a heavenly mix of the three. jeonghan just stood there, all self-satisfied grin.

“you could waste your time finding a comeback, or you could be forward.”

“i think i have time for both.”

☄. *. ⋆

end of file .

SVT (sophrosyne; virtù; truth) University hopes you've enjoyed your stay !

[buckysgrace]

Friendly Competition

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Billy has almost beat Steve Harrington at everything he was once the best at. There is just one more thing left to obtain.

His girl.

CW: Smut, Breeding kink if you squint (wrap before you tap lmao) some manipulation, spitting, crying, some slapping idk, Billy is kinda a dick, cheating.

You weren't quite sure how you ended up befriending Billy Hargrove, but you did. You supposed it was the genuine interest that he showed in you. You weren't attracted to him like other girls were, you were just happy that someone seemed to care about the little things you had to say.

Steve had warned you. He had been completely furious when he found out you were speaking to him in the first place. You couldn't particularly blame him. You knew that Steve was jealous of the other boy. Billy had come in a like a tornado and scooped up all of Steve's hard work to take over the school.

It started small, so small that you barely noticed Billy's presence around you at first. He was just suddenly there with his pearly white smile and charismatic attitude. You could see why girls flocked to him so easily, but you were loyal to Steve.

"Is this yours?" You looked over your shoulder as Billy leaned in close to you, the smell of mint and cigarettes lingering on his breath. You looked at the wooden pencil he was holding in his hand.

"Maybe?" You set your book down, looking across your desk to see that you had knocked your pencil off without meaning to. You reached over to grab it, your fingers knocking against his as he handed you the pencil, "Thank you. You're a lifesaver." You teased softly as you sat it back on your desk. His smile only grew at your words.

"I'm Billy," He held his hand out and you hesitantly took a hold of his rough palm. You watched as he clasped his free hand on top of your palm, sandwiching your hand between his, "I don't know if we've met before?"

You almost told him that you knew who he was. It was only his first week at school and everyone had already been talking about him. That included your boyfriend. You thought it was a bit silly, worrying about his status and everything else when he'd be graduating in a few months. He had changed for the better, but you were worried he was on a slippery slope back to his previous self with how threatened he acted.

"Probably not," You smiled kindly as he released your hand, "We'll see each other at basketball games. I'm a cheerleader." You responded as you made small talk. You weren't really sure what Steve had been so worried about. He seemed pleasant as his smile grew.

"Good, I hope to see you around." There wasn't much to the conversation in your opinion, but you had given Billy everything he needed to know about you, like you were an open book.

////////////

"Do you understand this?" You were taken aback as Billy shuffled his desk towards yours, his knees brushing against your bare skin as you looked over to the paper he was holding. You squinted your eyes for a moment, having a hard time reading his handwriting.

"Oh, yeah. You just haven’t been carrying your numbers. So do it like this instead,” He scooted closer to watch you write out the problem for him. You paid no attention to how his eyes watched you, already used to the way he held contact, “Like this.” You pushed the paper back towards him. He looked over it for a moment, biting on his pencil.

“That makes a bit more sense,” He admitted slowly. He looked up to face you, his blue eyes flickering in the sunlight as he smiled gently. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, “Thank you. Steve didn’t mention you were smart.” You bit your lip, smiling at the mention of your boyfriend.

“What did he mention about me?” You smiles, thinking Billy was going to offer you another compliment that Steve had gushed about you. Billy chuckled, flicking his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Not much, he said you’re good with your mouth,” You stared in horror, feeling your body warm. Steve had mentioned that to you before, but you didn’t like that he was telling other people. You gulped hard, “Just locker room talk.” Billy admitted as his knee brushed against yours again. You nodded, trying not to act bothered as you turned away from him. You missed the smirk on his face and the way he looked at you as if you were a snack.

////////////

"I don't like you being around him," Steve was irritated after he crawled off of you. You sat up a bit, pulling the blanket over your chest as you stared at him confused, "Hargrove. I don't like you hanging out with Hargrove." You frowned, staring at his back muscles as he moved.

"I wouldn't really classify it as hanging out. He gave me his jacket because I was cold." You retorted as you furrowed your eyebrows together. Steve still looked pissed as he sat to the side of the bed. You weren't used to fighting with him and didn't understand why you were fighting so much recently. You had known Steve since grade school and remained semi friends through your schooling experience. It wasn't until his recent split with Nancy that he had shown interest you. You still weren't convinced that he hadn't used you as a rebound, but you had been together so long since then that it didn't seem to bother you anymore.

"It's because he wants you," Steve snapped as he pushed a hand through his thick hair, "He's flirting with you to get to me." You sat up further, moving the blankets so you could try and look at him. You had seen the girls Billy went after and you certainly didn't lump yourself into that group.

"Steve, this is getting out of hand. I think you're getting too paranoid. Does anyone really care about status that much?" You weren't super popular, but being on Steve's arm did leave you lumped into that crowd. You really didn't care about any of that, however, and didn't know why Steve let it get to him so much. He huffed.

"Yes, literally everyone cares about that but you." He sounded bitter, and you felt your eyes soften as you watched the hardened lines grow on his face as he was in deep thought. You sighed.

"I really don't talk to him. I promise and I'm sorry for wearing his jacket. I didn't think it was a big deal at the time," You decided apologizing was better than keeping on about some dumb fight. You knew that this was just knew to him. He was used to being the center of attention and having lots of friends. Now, his friend group had basically become just you while the rest huddled towards Billy. Steve was used to being a leader and not a follower.

"Maybe you should go," Steve sighed and you watched as he stood to hand you your clothes. You stared at the pile in your lap as you looked up at him surprised, "I have a lot to think about." You opened your mouth and shut it right away. You had planned this weekend specifically because his parents were out of town and now, he was kicking you out?

"Seriously?" You huffed as you began to dress yourself, completely irritated in the childish way he was acting, "You need to get over yourself. No one is out to get you." You shimmied your pants up over your hips, watching how he looked like he wanted to argue back. You didn't let him get the chance to start again before you were stomping down the clean hallway and down the stairs and out into the cool night sky.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you began to trek your way back to your house. You cursed Steve for his extremely fancy house that was positioned out in the middle of nowhere as you began to lose yourself in your thoughts.

Anymore it felt like your relationship was too full, like Billy was driving a wedge between the two of you. All Steve could do was complain about something he had done that made him feel even more less than before.

You didn't think you were being disrespectful in your relationship. You still didn't classify Billy as a friend, but anymore he was a lot easier to talk to than Steve. He didn't complain about social status or how hard his life was at the moment. He asked about your interests and genuinely seemed to care about what you had to say. Then again, maybe you should give Steve the benefit of the doubt. Then you remembered how he was making you walk all the way home in the chill, dark and you felt yourself growing irritated all over again.

You felt yourself tense as a car slowed near you, driving with your pace. You tried to ignore it, hugging yourself tighter. If you ended up dying you would be haunting Steve for the rest of his miserable life,“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” You were shocked to hear Billy’s voice. He appeared like the devil himself, looking rather pleased as he realized who had been walking on their own, “Need a ride?” You forgot all about your conversation with Steve, nodding as you climbed your way into the car. You were too freaked out about being abducted now to care about your boyfriends complaints.

“Thanks,” You buckled up quickly, watching as he put his smoke out, “I can pay you back.” Billy shook his head, reaching forward to turn his music down.

“It’s no problem. Where do you live?” He questioned you softly. You felt like he wasn’t this nice with anyone else but figured that was Steve’s voice crawling inside you. You told him the address, sitting back as you relaxed a bit.

“You have a nice car,” You told him politely, trying to make conversation as he took his time driving you home, “It must’ve been expensive.”

“Not really,” Billy chuckled, “I fixed most of it up myself. What about you? Do you drive?” He kept turning the conversation towards you. You were pleasantly surprised. It felt like it had been a long time since anyone had been interested in you. What you liked, what you did. You happily rambled on, not paying attention to how Billy was taking the long way to get to your house.

////////

Then, the moments started to grow. He started to be there for you more often than Steve was. You began to rely on him more, misjudging his actions to be friendly.

"Can you pick me up tonight?" You asked Steve as you leaned against the locker in your cheerleading uniform. People were rushing by to get out of school, and you didn't blame them. You'd rather be heading home than staying to practice as well. Steve sighed, slamming his locker shut as he shoved his books into his backpack. Your smiled hardened, understanding he was going through a lot at the moment.

"I'll try. I have," He paused for a moment, "I have something going on tonight." You felt your eyebrows furrowing as you listened to him. He had never been so vague before.

"Something? Like what? You're going to miss basketball practice?" You rushed all of your questions out at once, trying to understand your boyfriend. He sighed, irritated.

"Does it matter? Something is going on and I can't make practice or pick you up. My life doesn't revolve around you, you know." He spit out angrily. You were floored. He never spoke to you in such a manner before. Whatever he was going through, he was blaming you for it. You found yourself frowning.

"Sorry I'm such a bother. I'll find my own way home." You muttered, pulling your backpack over your shoulder as you turned away before he could say anything else. You didn't need this, you didn't deserve this. You hadn't done anything wrong to him.

You were still mad through practice, missing most of your usual moves and beats. Chrissy had tried to talk to you, to ask you what was going on but you brushed her off too. Steve had left you in a rotten mood. It had been building for weeks and now it felt like it was becoming too much for you to handle.

"Don't tell me you're walking," The familiar blue Camaro appeared next to you, driving slowly as you made your way down the dirt path out of the school. You sighed, wanting to simmer in your anger on the long trek home, "Hey, what's wrong?" You stopped in your spot, feeling all of the emotions bubbling up inside of you as you turned to face him.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm walking home. I'm fine," You forced out, parading the best smile as you could manage. Billy looked at you unamused thorough his shades, "Seriously, I can walk home."

"Get in," He said simply as he stopped his car. He blew smoke out towards you as he waited for you to make up your mind. You sighed, thinking that it would serve Steve right to see you get in Billy's car, "I'll drive nice and slow, just for you." Billy teased. You scoffed, getting in the passenger seat and buckling up.

"You're such a gentleman," You teased with a roll of your eyes, "Take a left on this street." You told him, beginning to give him directions to your house. He flicked his eyes over towards you as you remembered he had already taken you to your house before.

"Something on your mind?" He questioned, lighting a cigarette as he glanced at you. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, shrugging as you glanced towards him.

"There's just a lot going on, I guess." You admitted, finding an odd comfort as you sat in his blaring car. You glanced at him, watching the way his curls moved in the wind. It was nice, being somewhere and not having to listen to someone complain about him. You weren't sure if that was the best thing to admit.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, looking at you uncertainly as he inhaled his cigarette. You watched the way the smoke tumbled from his pink lips. It felt nice having someone interested in what you were thinking about. Steve had been too wrapped up in his own problems recently to listen to you.

"Steve is just acting weird," You weren't sure why you blurted it out, maybe it felt like you had no one else to say it to. You could feel anger forming in the base of your stomach again, thinking about how quick Steve was to leave you to the side, "I don' t know, he's just frustrating sometimes." You leaned back in your seat, feeling bad for talking about your boyfriend in this manner. Billy glanced at you in keen interest as he pulled into your driveway.

"He wasn't at practice today," Billy told you what you already knew, "That's pretty weird." He took the last drag from his cigarette, watching you with keen interest. You swallowed a lump in your chest, wondering if he was thinking the same thing you were.

"Thanks for the ride," You replied with a soft smile, unbuckling your seatbelt, "I really appreciate it." You knew you would just spiral if you continued to think about what your boyfriend was too busy with that, he couldn't give you a drive home.

"What are you doing with him?" Your head snapped up, looking at your porch where Steve was resting on one of the top steps. You felt a bit sheepish, thinking about how you had just been talking about him.

"He gave me a ride, so I didn't have to walk in the dark." You replied dryly, putting on your backpack before taking slow steps towards Steve. He completely ignored your words.

"I thought I said I didn't want you hanging out around him," Steve looked at you betrayed, glaring towards the blue car that was still sitting in your driveway, "He's an asshole." You felt your shoulders stiffening in defense.

"I can make my own judgement. He gave me a ride, that's it," You were getting irritated, feeling a bit embarrassed that you were arguing while Billy was still watching, "Seriously. You're making a big deal out of nothing."

"He's not bothering you, is he?" You turned, watching Billy stand outside of his car. He was smoking again, watching you with concern. Steve scoffed, looking at you incredulously.

"Can you believe him? Asking if I'm bothering you," Steve pushed his hands through his hair, obviously ruffled as he took a step towards Billy. You followed him, not really wanting the two boys to get in a fight in front of your house. You'd have a hard time explaining that to your parents, "You can leave now." He hissed, glaring at Billy. You were too concerned with trying to keep your boyfriend calm that you missed the smirk on Billy's face.

"Just go," You were mad, giving Steve a serious look, "You're acting ridiculous. Just go home, Steve." You were exasperated but you still felt bad when he looked at you like you had smacked him.

"What about him?" He motioned towards Billy, his tone suddenly not sounding as angry as he looked at you desperately.

"He was trying to leave before you came out here acting all crazy," You protested, feeling the need to defend yourself. Steve's brown eyes softened, like he had just realized how brash he had been, "Seriously, just go home and rest. Or do something. I have homework to do." You felt a bit guilty, but you meant your words. You were too exhausted to listen to him complain about Billy tonight. You knew he would be mad at you, but you didn't care.

"Have a good night." Billy's voice carried through the thick tension, a hint of amusement in his tone as you walked up the stairs to your home. You thought about turning to wave to him but decided against it, not wanting Steve to have any more fuel to accuse you of anything.

////////////

"We can study up here," You walked up the staircasing, showing Billy up to your room. You had been partnered together for a presentation and you were hoping that you would get it done with quickly. You didn't need Steve showing up to your house, pouting because you were around Billy again, "It's a bit messy." You quickly kicked some things out of the way, trying to clear up the entrance way to your cluttered bedroom before reaching for your other homework you'd been working on.

After speaking with your boyfriends again you had agreed to stay away from Billy. You knew there had been nothing malicious about your behavior but decided that it was better to agree to his terms than continue to fight. It had worked for a while, until you realized he was talking to Nancy again. It fueled your anger, realizing that you would never been quite enough for him.

"Steve isn't here?" Billy questioned, his eyes lingering at different areas in your room. He seemed to be thinking the same thing that you were. You quickly removed your books from your bed, clearing up an area as you turned to look at him.

"No," You spoke, trying to hide your annoyance as you placed your schoolbooks on your dresser, "He had something to do with Nancy." You were sure irritation was evident as Billy turned to you curiously.

"I thought him, and Wheeler broke up?" Your hands lingered against the nightstand near your bed, staring down at the picture of you and Steve wrapped up in each other's arms. It hurt, thinking about what he was probably doing right now.

"I thought so too." You admitted, trying to ignore the pain in your heart and the lump that was forming in the back of your throat. It would be silly to cry in front of someone like Billy. You were sure he'd have no idea what to do.

"He doesn't deserve such a pretty thing like you," He stepped forward, staring down at you with intense blue eyes. Your heart sudden beat a different rhythm as your breath hitched in your chest. His hands gripped at your soft waist, rubbing patterns into your smooth skin with his rough hands.

"What are you doing?" Your breath came up rough as you looked up at the blonde boy, noticing the way his eyes were observing you. He looked like he wanted to eat you.

"When was the last time Steve touched you like this?" Billy asked as he seemed to tower over you. Your heart was pattering in your chest as you looked up at him unsure, his large hands squeezing your hips softly.

"A while," You admitted softly. Billy's fingers slowly pushed the hem of your shirt up. You felt as if your waist burst into flames from the sensation of him against you. You were melting against him, slowly moving with him as he backed you towards your bed, "He's been distracted." You tried to defend the brown eyed boy, remembering that he was your boyfriend.

"Such a shame, if I had you there would be no one else I'd think of," Billy's blue eyes held onto your gaze intensely. You were thankful he was holding onto you, fearing that if he let go, you'd fall onto your carpeted floor and melt away, "You're fucking stunning." He spoke close to your face. You hesitated in his hands, not moving your face forward as you watched him.

"I can't." You mumbled, unsure of your own words as your body seemed to be urging to press up against him. You hadn't felt this much tension or want in such a long time. It was hard to feel guilty with other sensations taking over your body. Billy cocked a grin, raising his eyebrow as his nose brushed against yours.

"You can't have fun, c'mon," He licked his white teeth, glancing away for a moment before looking at you again, "I just want you to feel good. It doesn't have to mean anything. He won't have to know." The words were balancing in your mind as you considered him.

"I don't want Steve to know. I don't want to hurt him" You were feeling your resolve break down as Billy's touch sent flames at your skin. You exhaled softly, moving your arms over your head as he pulled your shirt up. You stared into his blue eyes, watching as his eyes raked over your cleavage.

"He'd never know. You said it yourself; he's been distracted. You deserve to be treated like a Queen. Let me show you," He sounded convincing as he moved his hands behind your waist. He traveled his warm hands up your back softly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Your heart was beating even faster as he slowly fiddled with your bra, pulling the straps apart before letting it slide down your shoulders. You quickly covered your boobs as he pulled the material off, a nervous smile pressing against your face, "Don't be nervous. You're fucking beautiful." Maybe it was because it had been so long since Steve had said those words to you, maybe you were just that deprived to search for comfort in anyone else. You listened to Billy, letting your hands fall to your sides as he drank you in, his blue eyes darkening.

He kept eye contact with you as he slowly lowered himself onto his knees of your bedroom floor. Your whole body was warming as you watched his movements slowly. There was something so odd in seeing someone like Billy on his knees for you. He unbuttoned your jeans slowly, gripping a hold of your panties along with your jeans as he pulled them down your thighs. You resisted the urge to cover your face in embarrassment as his features lit up. He smirked up at you, gently pressing his palm against your hip to knock you down onto your mattress. A squeal left your mouth, your chest filling with giddiness as you sat up on your elbows to look at him. He dragged you forward by your thighs, gleaming up at you.

"I bet your cunt tastes so sweet," He whispered as he rested your legs over his shoulders. He looked like sin as he dipped between your legs, flicking his tongue out against your wet folds. A moan left your mouth as you watched his eyes close for a moment as he savored the taste of you on his tongue, "Fuck, Harrington gave up this? Such a shame." Billy tsked, his fingers squeezing around your thighs as his mouth devoured your wet cunt. His tongue flicked and swirled between your folds before he played with your clit.

Your elbows slid out from under you as you rested against your mattress, your mouth parting in awe as you focused on the sensation of his mouth against you. You mewled out, reaching down to tangle his blonde locks in your nimble fingers. The guilt was fading away as the pleasure took over.

"Oh god," You whined out, feeling your back arching at the feeling of his thick fingers pressing into your wet hole. You whimpered softly, already feeling stretched around him as he curled his fingers into your heat. He was lapping his tongue lazily against your throbbing clit as your hands tightened in his hair. You whimpered softly, "Feels so good." You whined out, moving your hips against his hot tongue.

He chuckled softly, pulling his mouth away from your wet heat as he curled his fingers up against your walls and searched for the bundle of nerves inside of you. You were grinding down against his hand rapidly, ultimately showing him just how needy you actually were.

"Pretty Boy wasn't fucking you nearly good enough," Billy spit out, his lips trailing against your thighs as he moved his thrusted his fingers inside of you faster. You could feel the cool metal of his rings hitting against your entrance each time he pushed into you deeper, "I'll change that, baby. Gonna fuck you so nice, gonna fill that tight cunt with my cock." He promised, his teeth grazing against your thighs as he spoke. You whimpered, far into pleasure to care about how wrong his words are. You felt your toes curling as his thick digits hit that sweet spot inside of you.

"Billy!" You cried out, rolling your hips relentlessly as you chased that feeling again. You where whining, writhing on the bed as he dipped between your legs again and wrapped his pink lips around your clit. It was like he was rising you into the sky, bringing you closer and closer towards heaven.

He hummed again, sucking your clit hard as his fingers brought you to your high. You moaned, your fingers clinging to his hair as you shook around him. You were breathing hard as he slowly lowered you back to the Earth.

You were shaking still as he pulled away from you. You were in a daze as you stared up at the ceiling. It had been so long since you had had a proper orgasm. You felt your toes curl softly as he slid you back up towards your bed. You squealed softly, still trying to catch your breath.

Billy stood at the edge of the bed, unbuttoning the few buttons of his shirt before he pulled it off. You stared at his tanned skin, the toned muscles. Maybe it was your guilt, but you couldn't help but compare how he looked to Steve. You tried to shake the feelings away as he unlooped his belt and slowly pulled his jeans down his thick thighs.

Your felt your jaw dropped when he revealed his hard cock. It bobbed against his stomach, standing straight as he crawled onto your mattress to face you. You didn't look at his face, too preoccupied with staring at the thick, angry dick between his legs.

"You ready?" He didn't reach for a condom, instead he swirled the head of his cock along your sensitive clit. You jumped, hissing softly as you felt your legs shaking still from your previous orgasm. You nodded stiffly, wanting nothing more than to feel him stretching you out. He pushed his tip into you slowly, gauging your reaction.

It was like you were being split in half. Steve was long, but Billy seemed to be twice as thick. He was groaning softly, spreading your legs wider and up towards your chest as he bottomed out inside of you. You hissed softly, your walls burning as your cunt swallowed his fat cock. He looked down between your legs, spitting again as he coated your pussy with his saliva.

"Holy fuck," Billy cursed as he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. His mouth opened in bliss as he stared down at you, "You've been holding out on me." He grunted, rocking his hips forward slowly. You blubbered at the feeling of pain and pleasure swirling inside of you.

"So big," You breathed out, unsure of how else to tell him you weren't used to his size yet. He smirked proudly, cupping your chin softly as his thumb played with your bottom lip, "S'lot." You admitted, fluttering your eyelashes as you looked up at the blonde boy again.

"Poor little baby isn't used to my big cock?" Billy teased playfully, moving his hips slowly as you adjusted around him. You whined, feeling his spit slip towards your throbbing clit. You shook your head pathetically, inhaling as you felt him slide deeper inside of him, "Don't worry, baby. When I'm done with you, you won't forget my cock." He promised, drawing his hips back softly before pushing into you harder. You squealed softly, reaching towards your pillows as the pleasure overtook the pain. You'd never been stretched in such a way before.

"Feels," You breathed out harshly as he bent lower to face you, his blue eyes watching you intensely as he built up a slow rhythm. Your pussy was growing more wet, your slick coating his hard length, "Feels so good." You whined softly, feeling your eyes close in awe. They snapped open hard when his hand connected against your cheek, smacking you softly to draw your attention back towards him.

"Hey, hey," He gripped your chin softly before he squeezed your cheeks together hard, pouting your lips out towards him, "I want you to watch me fucking this little pussy, okay? You're only to think of me right now." He demanded, looking at you seriously as you nodded your head. You were too full of his cock, in too much bliss to wonder about who else you'd be thinking of at this moment.

"Okay," You whined as he pushed his cock into you harder, leaning on your legs more as they began to burn from pleasure, "Mhm, god. Fuck me so good, Billy." You pleaded. He dipped his head low, pressing his rough lips against yours in a fleeting kiss. You felt momentarily frozen, thinking about how he tasted so much different than Steve. Steve was always sweet, Billy tasted of mint and cigarettes.

He didn't let you draw on your thoughts about Steve too long before he was slamming into you hard, his cock rubbing against your bundle of nerves as you cried out. You desperately wished to grind up against him, to push him in deeper but there was no moving under his tight grip.

"Such a greedy little whore," He spit out, watching the way you were desperately trying to move your hips, "Already made you cum on my fingers and tongue and you're grinding up against me like a bitch in heat. Was that not enough?" You shook your head, your moans cascading off of the walls.

"More," You begged, wanting to feel as much as him as possible, "Need more." You felt like crying when he stopped moving his hips. You could feel his hard length pulsing inside of you, but you still feared that you had said the wrong thing.

"Okay, I'll give you more of my cock, baby," He let go of your legs slowly as he pulled out of your tight hole. You whined, watching him move as he pulled his hard cock from your wet heat. You felt a look of betrayal forming on your face, "S'okay. I'm gonna give you my cock, baby. Just relax." You felt tense as he rolled you onto your hands and knees. He positioned you a bit, so you were facing the doorway. It felt odd, but you ignored it at the feeling of cool leather pressing against your neck. Your gasp was cut off by him wrapping his belt tightly around your neck. You struggled to breath for a moment. You felt like this was far out of your comfort zone.

"I don't know," You started to speak as you felt your pulse quickening against your wrists. Billy chuckled, sliding his hard cock between your wet folds before he tapped it against your hole playfully. You were arching back suddenly, forgetting your discomfort, "Fuck me." You changed your subject entirely, looking back over your shoulder to watch him. He grinned down at you, gripping onto the belt around your neck like it was a collar.

"You're so damn needy for my cock. Pretty Boy was just neglecting this pretty little cunt," Billy tsked as he slowly slid his tip inside of you. You moaned, trying to push back to urge him in. He gripped your backside, holding you still as he watched you, "Patience, baby. You'll get my cock soon enough. I promise." He slid in slowly, teasing you as every time he hit a deeper spot inside of you, he'd pull out again. You gripped your hands in fists around the sheets, desperately trying to hold yourself together. You wanted his cock so badly. You'd never wanted something so badly before.

"Please," You whined out, sounding breathless as he caressed your backside. You were willing to get on the ground and beg for him to fuck you. Your body was trembling with want. He bit his lip, trying to control his smirk as he slowly filled you. You mewled, feeling his balls pressing up against you from how deeply he filled you, "Yes, just like that." You sighed out in relief. Billy yanked on the belt, earning an odd sound from you as his other hand roughly smacked your backside a few times. You yelped; your moan cut off from his grip on the belt.

"S'okay baby, s'alright," Billy pulled out until only the head of his cock remained, then swiftly slammed into you. You rocked forward, your eyes hitting the back of your head as the pleasure gripped you. You felt drool forming in the corner of your mouth and you quickly tried to lick it away, "Gonna fuck you dumb, make you my own little cock slut." Billy promised, grinding his hips into you deeply before he built a rough pace. Every thrust left you slamming forward, nearing the edge of the bed as he held onto you tightly. You were a moaning mess, unable to focus on how wrong all of this was with his dick hitting your bundle of nerves with each wild thrust.

You wanted to cry out again, to tell him how good he felt inside of you, but your tongue was unable to form any words. The sounds of your skin meeting filled the room in a filthy way. Billy was grunting on top of you, smacking your backside as he dragged you along his cock. He gripped the belt, pulling you off of your elbows and against his sweaty chest as he beat his cock into your sensitive pussy. You glanced at him, whimpering as you tried to hold yourself up.

"Do you like my cock?" He asked roughly, his free hand snaking around your waist as he pressed down on the bulge forming on your abdomen from his thrusts. You whined at the odd sensation as you nodded your head quickly. He moved his hand away, smacking you lightly across your cheek, "Use your big girl words." He commanded. Your cheek lightly burned but you liked it. It was odd that the pain he was causing you made you feel so good.

"Yes," You spit out, feeling tears of pleasure beginning to form on your cheeks, "Love it so much." You nodded your head, looking at him sincerely. He smirked, licking at your swollen lips messily before he was shoving you back down with the belt. You gagged when he pulled too hard, trying to regain your breathing as he shoved your face into the mattress.

"Such a good cock whore," Billy praised as he snapped his hips forward harder. He was clawing at your waist, forcing you against him harder and you were more than happy to oblige. You didn't think it would ever feel so good to be called such terrible names, "Gonna make you my own little slut. Gonna fuck you whenever I want. You want that don't you?" He degraded as he smacked your sensitive skin again. You nodded, before quickly remembering to speak when you answered him.

"Yes," You wailed when he hit your bottom again. Your skin was beginning to feel raw and sore, "Wanna be your little slut." You promised him, nodding your head urgently to let him know that you meant it. He grunted, his fingers digging into his waist as he rolled his hips inside of you. The sensation caused your toes to curl and a loud moan to leave your lips. You could feel your stomach muscles beginning to curl, signaling that you were near.

"You wanna cum on my cock?" Billy leaned over your body, whispering huskily in your ear as his movements became more rapid. You were crying around his cock, begging him for more as your cunt gripped around his hard dick like a second skin. You were whimpering incoherently as you tried to form words.

"Yes," You finally breathed out as a line of spit let your parted lips, "So bad, please." You were begging, looking towards the blue-eyed boy. He licked his bottom lip, drawing his attention towards the doorway with a snort. You didn't care what had gathered his attention. You just never wanted him to stop moving.

"Show him how good you are baby, show him how good my cock feels," Billy snapped his hips forward, the head of his cock hitting against your bundle of nerves as he held on tightly to the belt around your neck. Your mind was fuzzy, too focused on the feeling of his cock inside you to fully understand his words. He used his other hand to smack your cheek, gripping your chin to face you towards the doorway, "Show him what he's been missing."

Your eyes met brown ones, but you were unable to do much about the boy in the doorway as you clenched around Billy's fat cock and came around him. You were shrill as you moaned, your eyes clenching shut tightly as your body trembled around Billy's tight grip. He grunted hard above you, drawing you back with the belt so you were forced to look at his flushed expression.

"Gonna cum inside your little cunt, fill you with my cum. You want that? You want me to breed you? Fill you with my seed?" He hissed out, his hips snapping against you harshly as he dragged you along his cock. You nodded in shame and pleasure, a bittersweet mixture as you were all too aware with your boyfriends' eyes watching your every movement.

You cried out another time, your toes curling again as you felt his warm cum fill the deepest parts of you. Your feet kicked off the mattress softly as he held onto the belt tighter, cutting off your airflow momentarily. He was grunting like a beast, using his other hand to claw at your sides as he came down from his high. you whimpered when he let go harshly, your head rocking forward towards your bed.

You were a mess. Hair tangled from being pulled, lips red and swollen with drool pooling down to your chest. Your skin was darker where Billy had smacked you, your pussy full of the mixture of the two of you. You were ashamed, staring up at the brown eyed boy as his eyes looked at you with horror. You tried to look away, to avert your eyes so you wouldn't have to feel your guilt.

Billy yanked the belt around your neck like it was a collar and you were a dog on a leash. He forced you to look at Steve's horrified expression as Billy's cheek pressed against yours. You felt his mouth curl into a smirk as he looked at Steve.

"Sorry man, she's a bit busy. I can't believe you weren't fucking this," Billy growled, turning your head to kiss you harshly. You whimpered in protest, feeling a pang in your chest, "She's so fucking good, man. I hope you don't mind. I just couldn't help myself." You slowly raised your eyes to look at Steve again, feeling guilty and ashamed. It was like he was stuck in his spot, no words coming forward as all he could do was stare at the two of you.

You were quiet, staring down at Steve's sneakers as Billy moved behind you. You were too aware of how you were still clamped down around his length, your pussy begging for him not to leave as he unstrapped the belt around your neck. You touched your raw skin softly, looking over your shoulder at the golden boy's proud face. He pulled out slowly, hissing from how hard you were clenched around him. You felt shame fueling every part of your body at the sound of your wet heat squelching around him, his laughter filled the tense room.

"Did you hear that?" Billy bit his lip, looking between your legs one last time before he smacked your ass hard. The sound echoed and you stiffeled a moan, feeling your legs give out from under you as you fell forward on your stomach. The sticky sensation of your mixture between your legs coated your thighs. Billy dressed himself quickly, looking towards Steve like he was waiting for him to say something or to make a move. Steve never moved from his spot in the doorway, too busy staring at you with disbelief. You were doing everything you could not to meet his eye contact. The nerves filling your body as the lust left with Billy, "I hope there's no hard feelings. I let her nice and wet for you, King Steve." Billy smacked Steve's shoulder, barely drawing a reaction from him. You watched Billy's smirk grow on his face as he pushed passed the brunette boy.

You slowly lifted your eyes to meet his gaze again, still fighting to regain your breath. Steve just stared, looking like he didn't quite recognize you at the moment. He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he watched you.

"I was right," Steve breathed out slowly as he finally broke the tension, "I told you he was using you to get to me."

[chitra111goddess]

Let's talk about Revati women ♡

💗 Revati is ruled by Mercury the trickster and its a Pisces nakshatra so you can only imagine how these natives can cast an illusion, theyre like magicians or shifters. They're master manipulators (not in a bad way cuz they don't intend to harm others but it's like they know how to get their way and how to be perceived a certain way while being lowkey w their motives)

I noticed its easy for revati women to attract wealth through other people as well like having a sugar daddy or a provider or thro pretty privilege/using their femininity to attract. They make it seem effortless or they have this mentality of "work smart, not hard". I think its underrated how fking clever they are !

That's not to say that they can't do things on their own but they like it when others do it for them

they don't rly seem to get emotionally attached to people easily but once they do it's v deep , there's always smtg in it for them tho like they have to gain smtg from the people or the experience (mercury and jupiter influence of revati) ,, it's not wrong , cuz if it doesn't serve u why pursue it?

Example Shera seven (mercury in revati) + leighton meester as Blair in gossip girl (revati sun)

she's so funny 💀 again the epitome of don't work hard work smart, using her femininity to get her way. Revati is the type to not "need" a man but they can use one lmaoo it sounds toxic but I mean .. it works. It just feels like revati energy don't rly come from a place of need or desperation , it feels more like "been there done that" (being the last nakshatra of pisces) kinda vibe so they're not easily phased or impressed and they use whatever they got now in order to attract more

💗 The duality of revati women never misses, which makes them so interesting. There's that sweet soft girly side but also dark feminine seductive side just like with other mercury nakshatras, but revati can pull off both light and dark

I mean look at Rihanna (revati moon and asc)

Pretty girlie + bad bitch essence in one (that comes from the tropical aries too imo)

Revati women just seem unbothered like they don't rly care, which gives them this air of confidence, even if they're awkward at least they know how to PRETEND to be confident.

(Anna wintour revati moon)

This again ties to how revati women can alter the perception of others of how they're being perceived by pretending or acting like it

Another example is kristen stewart (revati sun) even tho she can be awkward but she also seems unbothered and like she don't care. And ofc Angelina jolie especially in the movie *girl interrupted* her revati moon shines through

That trickster smirk lol

They don't like to be labeled or put in a box I think revati women can be so fluid that goes to being gender fluid for some of them, they always wanna show different sides like they're not one way, they're multifaceted so people will have v different opinions on them

Im seeing alot of them rocking the Bob cut especially revati moon women

Also I have to mention revati women and their voice 👁👄👁 they always sound unique or feminine, and the way they talk is pleasing like I could listen to them all day.

Let me know ur thoughts and I might add to this later on

[bunnibaby-love]

hear me out...possessive dom neuvillette...power imbalance......

🧁 Neuvillette x F!Reader 🧁

♡ female reader + kinda non con + barely smut + corruption + manipulation + power imbalance + dumblification

Iudex Neuvillette has been admiring you ever since you offered an umbrella to him. It was a simple gesture that even Wriothesley did but he thinks it might be what humans called love at first sight

It saddened him when he found out you move to Sumeru to pursue your education. He won't be able to admire you while you walk thru streets or watch on the opera house every once in awhile

Once he found out you are graduating, he didn't think twice to offer you the position of being his secretary. He made sure you are only coming to him by blocking any possible work that would want you or what you want

You of couse, accepted the position of being his secratary. I mean what's better position than being the secretary of Monsieur Neuvillette?! It's a high paying job too!

You wish to learn alot from this work experience but you don't feel doing a professional work. It's always the melusine that do paperworks while you just do Neuvillette schedule and make his meals. It makes you feel more of a maid and this is somewhere you didn't wish to pursue

"A resignation?" Neuvillette raise his eyebrows at you "Pardon me but care to explain? i don't understand you leaving such an important and high position? do you think other place would take in you easily like this?"

He always intimidate you but now it's a very scary feeling and you are sweating cold although you tried hard to be brave infront of him "Yes Monsieur i...i rather work with somewhere i can show my skills"

Neuvillette chuckles at that. He is making your life easier now then you actually want it hard? "And you think your skills are that good?" he smirk when he saw you get pale "Leaving a position like this? only well stupid people would" he cross his legs while enjoying your scared expression. "I'll gave you a better..position then"

He stands up to tuck your hair behind your blushing ears "Kneel" you quickly kneeled, scared to angered the iudex

Neuvillette is a cruel man. You perceive him as cold and intimidating man but just know how cruel he is too you.

He won't let you leave the palais mermonia anymore unless he is with you, with his arms around your waist. The people of fontaine just think of it a cute couple and how great you are for taking the heart of the iudex

When it is the opposite.

You are still his secretary by name but, you did anything but that. When the doors of his office closed, you have to sit down on his lap while he does his loads of paper work "Behave or do you want me to leave you at the floor with that tiny vibrator mhm?" you shake your head. The last time he did that to you, you were in that position for 6hours

When a trial is ongoing, you are secretly under his table and sucking his cock with whatever paced he wanted. He makes you fully naked with the thrill of getting caught

You should hate it. He is making you do all of this because of how powerful he is. He knows you have your debts still and can't even pay it if you left because he is blocking everything from you

But, is really living on surviving better than this? sure Neuvillette treats you like how the toy you are but he is also caring. He would gave you aftercare no matter how much he torment you.

"So pretty like this...at your perfect place" you don't want to think about it anymore.

You now enjoy being on the iudex knees and sucking his cock like it's the only meal you need "Good girl" You happily shows off your tongue full of his cum and swallows it

"Im very proud of you dear...especially now that the test says you are pregnant..." he kiss your lips passionately "my wife....mine forever..."

[battlekidx2]

I'm making this post purely to shout out some incredibly talented fanfic writers from the Hazbin Hotel fandom and my favorite works of theirs.

Did anyone ask me for this? No. Will I post it anyway? Absolutely. The writers in this fandom are too good.

The first fanfic writer I want to shout out is @prince-liest (ao3 link)

I absolutely love their get cared for idiot (Alastor) series (not the official name but they called it that in one of their asks jokingly so it's now the default in my head).

Knock, Knock! It's Your Worst Fucking Nightmare! (this fic gets it!!!! This is what I meant when I said Alastor is growing a heart and part of him is raging against it. He still has ulterior motives and a massive amount of pride and part of him feels like that growing fondness is getting in the way, but he can't stop it. I need to stop before this becomes a long ramble. I've written a couple thousand words on this idea, but this fic is just a better use of your time than any meta I could ever write and way more entertaining :D )

Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy

The Last Bus Stop in Hell, Now Boarding (Please look at the tags for content warning. Angel and Alastor body swap story.)

They're amazing at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor where there's a heart in there (really deep) and he's unintentionally growing attached to the hazbin crew, but he doesn't lose his edge. He's still manipulative and an asshole and can easily be the scariest guy in any room. He's in hell for a reason. A+ characterization at all times.

They're so good at writing the complicated dynamics he has with the residents, especially Charlie, and I enjoy how they expand on Alastor's potential dynamic with Angel Dust.

Anything they write from Lucifer's POV is gold too! My favorites are:

Take Two and Leave a Voicemail!

The Care and Keeping of Homo Angelus

I am also 100% here for their Aro!Alastor agenda and I'm enjoying their fic I Love Her, I Love Her Not so far!

The second person I want to shout out is @grayintogreen (ao3 link)

Their series Red Roses and Dead Things consistently gut punches me.

Just like Princeliest, they are also fantastic at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor. A+ characterization for everyone and I love how they write HuskerDust. It's so soft, especially in the aftermath fic for Learn that Even Death May Die called If My Love Is Tomorrow, I've Forgotten Yesterday (that fic hurt in the best way).

The way they explore the aftermath of Learn that Even Death May Die is incredibly impactful. They capture the unique grief that comes from the reality that there are some things you won't get closure for so well that it's painful.

I can't say enough good things about their series. Genuinely go read it.

I found @lediz-watches (ao3 link) before the first season of Hazbin Hotel dropped (I've been a fan of the hellaverse for a few years now and have been enthralled with the Hazbin Hotel pilot since I first watched it in 2020) and I really enjoy their fics.

My favorite is Suffering Kindness. I love the Charlie and Alastor dynamic they explore in this story. I think I'm just a sucker for the Charlie and Alastor dynamic in general, but this fic hits all the right notes for me. (written pre-season 1 but man is it good. 100% recommend)

LeDiz also has a lot of one-shots/collections of one-shots that are very fun.

The Cure for Inexorable Boredom

Dollface (one-shots about Alastor theories. My favorite is the 3rd one. So fascinating!)

Choice Words (one of the few explorations of Alastor and Vaggie's dynamic that I've found in the fandom)

Don't Say It

I have to shout out @ckret2 (ao3 link) and their phenomenal fic You’ve Got a Face for Radio. This is such an amazing aroace!Alastor fic. (Embarrassingly it was this fic that made me realize I was most likely aroace myself. I’d had fleeting moments of suspecting it but it wasn’t until I saw my experiences laid out in a character explicitly written to be aroace that I put the puzzle pieces together. -_- some of these passages were too relatable.) I cannot express how much I love this fic.

I also like their fics Dumpster Baby and Bitter Grapes.

I have one last writer I want to mention because this is getting really long (whoops). The last one is tiredoflofteranditsshit and their Assume He Has a Heart series (because my favorite character and how I interpret them was not obvious enough already with the fics/authors I've recommended. I had to make it more obvious).

These fics are massive (17k and 26k words) and so much fun. Definitely worth the read. Yet another series that follows up season 1 and explores Alastor’s growing connections and how he lies to himself and pushes against it. Love this series and there’s a lot to sink your teeth into :D