#now back on my hating him agenda

[lestatlioncunt]

looking at fenix is like i hate u i will make you suffer i want to see him get punched i would push him down a hay barrel (<thanks to farllee for this one) and then i will randomly zoom in on his face and

freckles.................babygirl......

[candied-cae]

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Got To Get Them Back

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Chapter 8/? - - - Read it on AO3

Word Count : 6,747

Summary: Robin's finally getting some time with Vickie! And Nancy's getting time with one of the government workers. She's not going to let them intimidate her to back off like they have before, she's going to get some answers this time. But those answers might not be the kind she's hoping for…

More ST Fics

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Nancy looked back at Steve. He was slowly shaking out a blue shirt while he kept careful eyes on her. He looked like he was ready to spring into action and run over if she so much as pouted too harshly. Which was not something she needed if she wanted to get this woman alone enough to answer questions.

She pointedly looked to the back doors of the gym with a nod, hoping he’d understand she was agreeing to walk away and didn’t need him to run out after her. His face looked pinched like he didn’t like it, but he nodded back to her, giving his blessing in some sort of way. Nancy turned back to the woman and followed her out the through the doors that poured into the track field. Crisp early spring air curled around them while the mystery woman looked around.

Once she was sure they were alone, she peered through her dark lenses at the shorter girl,“ Alright, Ms. Wheeler. I understand you might be frustrated-”

“What is going on?” Nancy bit into her time. She refused to allow her the courtesy of running through her practiced lines uninterrupted.

She didn’t want to be placated like a child. She didn’t want to be worked around and settled like a rebellious middle schooler. She was a big girl who could handle herself. And if this government worker thinks she can get around her right to know what the fuck is going on... then she doesn’t know Nancy Wheeler very well.

The woman flustered a moment, clearly not used to teenagers fighting against her authority, but she kept her corporate-like poise and shifted,“ We didn’t know much at the time-”

“No.” Nancy insisted,” You people keep coming to our town, making problems for us, and getting people hurt. Getting people killed. And it always comes down to us. Letting us deal with all the bullshit you started. Hiding the truth from us until the last second, when we become the ones paying the price to keep everything together. Do you even know how many have been hurt in Hawkins because a bunch of teenagers were the only ones trying to fix your problem?”

The question struck her a bit harder, she pulled the sunglasses off of her face to let Nancy see her vibrant greens as she answered,“ The count is at twenty-two casualties. Injuries are in the hundreds. Yes, I know.”

“So, don’t waste my time with excuses and pushing off the blame so we don’t hold you liable. We do, and we always will, not that it matters since this is all under the table, contractual NDA shit that we couldn’t do anything about if we wanted to. So, just tell me what is going on.” Nancy sucked in a breath to try and still the shaking fear in her next demand,” Tell me why haven’t I been able to reach my brother since this started.”

The woman bristled under her harsh gaze. She fell silent for a moment as those eyes flicked to the ground, running from Nancy's, before letting just a shred of personhood come out,” The last status we had on Michael was that Ms. Byers left him and the other two with Jonathan. She had a sudden business trip she went on. The girl had to go do something, and your brother stayed with the Byers boys, under the watch of agents Harmon and Wallace when the house was… when the house was raided.”

“What-” Nancy's voice croaked out as she struggled to understand that word.

‘Raided’. Their house was raided? What does that even mean?

She continued,“ We believe the three of them escaped with the agents, they weren’t at the house when a team checked in, but we haven’t heard anything about them since. And when the girl disappeared from the facility-”

Nancy was still reeling from the news that her brother was missing when her brain was stopped in its tracks,“ A facility? You just said she had something she had to go do. But there's a facility? What did you people do to El?”

“She voluntarily went in with Doctor Sam to work with Doctor Brenner on-”

“Brenner.” her voice seethed the name.

She already hated the man on principle from what she’s picked up of El’s childhood. But after she saw what she saw… when Henry showed her flashes of horrific memories of that lab, of that man... She hated him with a new fire,” You let her end up back in his-”

“She was there of her own choice.” the woman pushed,” They were working on getting her power back.”

She shook her head at that explanation,“ That’s not enough. That’s not reason enough to- to put her back with that monster. It’s just not.”

“You may feel that way, Ms. Wheeler. But, at the end of the day, the girl chose to be there. And from my last report, she was doing quite well.”

“Last report?”

“A few days ago, communication stopped. I know you think we haven't done enough, but we've been doing everything we can. We’re just doing our part managing-”

“Nothing.” Nancy finished the sentence for her.” You have been managing nothing. We have been the ones managing.”

“And this was the result of your management?” the woman asked, looking back towards the door of the gymnasium with critical eyes.

Nancy clenched her jaw. Her face set with fury at what she was implying. Like this was their fault. Like they could’ve known any better, or tried any harder than they did. They gave everything they had, without any help from anyone else.

“I came out here to get answers and make sure whatever your people try to pull doesn’t make things worse. If you end up giving the police some cover story, you keep the blame off of Eddie Munson. You don't get to make him your scapegoat. We are exonerating him of the murders and we sure as hell don’t need you messing that up for him.”

“We know he wasn’t responsible, obviously. We have no wish to put him back into the line of fire unnecessarily-”

“Good.” Nancy gave the single word and pushed past the lady she didn't bother to catch a name for as she headed back into the building.

The woman trailed after her, paces slower and shorter thanks to her heels,“ Wait, we need to discuss what you kids have been-”

“I’ll tell you what happened this week when you can tell me where my brother is.”

Nancy set the condition to their terms with an iron conviction clear in her voice. She didn’t even look at the woman. Just kept walking until she made her way back to the garment table. She retook her place next to Steve and picked up the first thing she saw to have something to do with her hands.

When Nancy returned to Steve’s sight, she was fuming. He didn’t need a close look at her to tell she was pissed. Even from across the room, Steve could feel it coming off her in waves. Behind her, he saw the suit enter the doors herself, huffing as she futzed with her jacket and slipped the sunglasses back into place. She was clearly less than satisfied with how their conversation had gone.

Something important just happened.

Nancy was folding the clothes with more force than she really needed to, when Steve carefully asked,“ What happened?”

Her hands suddenly stilled as her face twisted further.

“They knew.” she spit the words out as quietly as she could in her steaming anger.

“They knew?”

“Knew something was up when Chrissy died,” Nancy answered, hands fighting with the fabric in her grasp. She wasn’t really folding it anymore, she just kept pulling and twisting as she worked through the words,” Before Freddie and Patrick. Before Max and Eddie. They knew, and they didn’t do anything about it. They just silently poked around. Keeping everything to themselves. While we were out there, risking our lives, actually trying to do something.”

“They-?” Steve started, but Nancy didn’t stop.

“They don’t even know what happened to the others. Mike and El and Will and Jonathan are missing.”

“What?” Steve’s voice came out weak, feeling the pit of his stomach drop to his feet.

“Their house was raided. Raided. Days ago. And they lost touch with the rest of their team out west. They don’t know where any of them are. And before they even lost them, they handed El back to that bastard-”

Steve put his hands over hers to still their movements. It pulled her out of her head enough that she stopped to properly breathe instead of just drawing in shallow huffs between her words. He gently tugged on the piece and she relinquished the fabric without further opposition. Nancy closed her eyes a moment, tensing all her muscles and releasing them to try and reset the part of her that couldn’t stop burning with the information she’d just received.

“Do you want to leave, Nance?” he asked her.

“No.” she opened her eyes and picked up a pair of children’s shorts, actually folding them this time,” We said we’d help out. Let’s just finish up, and then we can all get out of here.”

“Okay.”

As less than an hour goes by of folding and sorting, there wasn’t much said between the two. Not much beyond the ‘excuse me’s they'd exchange as they reached around one another, at least. When Dustin ran out of people to offer water cups to, he drifted over to the two of them and started pressing for what Nancy found out. Steve shook his head to tell him that they wouldn’t talk about it right now. Not that she could have even said much, nothing louder than a whisper of their supernatural secrets would’ve been allowed in the crowded room. Finally, Robin made her way on over with Vickie following behind her.

She was very much a contrast to Nancy’s display. Robin looked like she was walking on clouds, all smiles and sunshine filling the air around her as she got to have nearly a whole hour just talking to Vickie. And Vickie, curiously, looked very much the same.

Robin was carrying a few saran-wrapped sandwiches and held a pair of them out for Steve and Nancy when she arrived at their table. She handed another to Dustin, keeping one for herself, and passed the last to Vickie.

“They’re finished with us. We covered the lunch crowd, got most of the prep for dinner taken care of, and now I think they want us to get out of the way.” Robin told them with a bright smile.

“And we thought you three would be ready for a lunch break, on the house,” Vickie added.

They all accepted the food with polite smiles, but Steve looked into Robin a little bit harder. Because the girl was practically glowing. Steve narrowed his eyes at her, ever so slightly. Just enough to make sure she knew that he could see what was going on. Just enough to make sure she knew that he would absolutely be grilling her for answers once they ditched all the others. She cocked her head to the side with harsh eyes, as if trying to threaten him without words not to spill anything while Vickie was still there.

“Thanks. It’s Vickie, right?” Steve asked, sparing a glace at Robin, whose eyes widened suddenly in response.

“Yeah, it’s Vickie. How’d you know?” the girl asked.

Robin pressed her lips together, eyes boring into Steve with furious anxiety.

Vickie waved her hand to excuse herself, falling into a bubbling ramble like someone Steve knows quite well,” No offense, there’s nothing wrong with you knowing. I just figured our social circles didn’t really overlap when you were in high school so- not that I think I’m better than you or anything, it is absolutely not that. And I don’t want to imply that I think you think you’re better than me so-”

“No, you’re fine.” He stopped her,” Rob and I are just best buds, and she mentioned seeing a fellow band geek when we were at WarZone. I’m good with faces and picked up the name.”

“Oh, yeah. You were with her a couple of days ago, huh?” Vickie nodded along, clearly buying that the only reason Steve caught it was that recent run-in.

Robin’s glare softened as it worked, pulling back on some kind of easy-going smile that she really hoped didn’t look forced. She didn’t know what she’d do if Steve got stuck and just blurted out,” Oh, Robin just talks about you all the freakin’ time. Obsesses over how she looks in the morning because she wants to impress you. Oh, and we’ve had conversations, at length, about the likelihood that you’re into boobies. So yeah, I’m sure you wouldn’t be freaked out by that, Miss Vickie!”

That would’ve been a mess beyond repair.

“So,” Steve leaned in towards Vickie with a teasing grin at the girl standing beside her. He lowered his head but spoke in a loud whisper everyone could hear,” Did she do a good job making sandwiches, or should I be hesitant to take my first bite?”

“Nimrod,” Robin called him as the pink already in her cheeks flared.

“Nimrod yourself. I’m just worried your clumsy self might’ve left the knife in the middle of my sandwich, and I don’t want to lose a tooth today.”

Robin reached over the table to shove against Steve’s shoulder,” Just eat your stupid lunch.”

The five of them headed outside to eat on the benches and find something casual to say to pass the time. They shared introductions and wondered about the earthquake, what that would mean for school, and all that, but they only had a few minutes to start to get to know her when Vickie’s parents pulled up and took her back home.

That was becoming a more common occurrence in Hawkins than it previously was: parents driving their kids everywhere. Most of the time, the kids could just wander around: riding bikes, taking the bus, driving themselves, and carpooling with pals.

But now, there were more moms and dads crossing town at predetermined times to take their kids back. Maybe it was because so many of them had unexpected time off of work. Maybe it was because everyone not moving away was still scared shitless that something bad was still coming to hurt their babies. Which wouldn’t necessarily be wrong… But, whatever strange forces were making parents keep their kids on a shorter leash, it called Vickie away sooner than Robin was ready to let her go.

Once she was gone, the four left on the bench, who actually have some idea of what was going on, were able to discuss the current developments. After Robin and Dustin got caught up, they both felt awful. Less of the burning anger that Nancy had felt, but more a sick fear that washed over them with the news that the Byers and Mike were all missing.

And then, before anyone could even think of what to do, Dustin was running.

Or, at least, he was attempting. He still had an obvious limp that was getting in his way of making much haste.

“Henderson- Henderson!” Steve called as he jumped up from the bench after him.

He caught up to the boy with relative ease as Dustin started trying to manhandle his locked rear seat door, the girls following shortly behind.

“Henderson, what’re-”

“Give me your keys!” the boy shouted at him, very seriously.

Steve pulled his key ring from his pocket and handed them over to Dustin’s waiting hand. He immediately pulled apart the car’s key from the others and broke into the back seat. He practically fell over himself as he spilled into the seats and dug his hand around under them. Then he pulled out one of those brick walkie-talkies.

“We didn’t leave that in there a few days ago?” Steve asked, though, it'd be more acurate to say Steve stated it as fact with a note of confusion.

Dustin agreed,“ No, we didn’t. I grabbed one before you picked me up. And, honestly, everyone should have one of their own right now, but that’s beside the point.”

“Well, what’re- what’re you doing?” Steve tripped on the word as Dustin turned up the volume, a light buzzing static coming over the empty radio waves.

“Calling Lucas. We need to give them the update.” And, with that, he clicked the receiver,“ Lucas, this is Dustin. We have news. Over.”

Only a few seconds of buzzing passed. Steve took back his keys while they all climbed into the car with Dustin. Then, as each of them settled in closer, the other boy’s voice trilled through the walkie.

“Is it good news or bad news? Over,” he asked, already sounding like he was dreading the answer.

Dustin paused for a moment. “Pretty bad news. Over,” he solemnly admitted to the other.

There was silence. He didn’t come back through immediately, and just that was enough to make Dustin start to worry,” Are you okay? Over.”

“I’m fine. I’m with Max right now. Can we talk about it later?”

He sounded tired and quiet. Like he didn’t think he could take any more bad news. Like he didn’t even want Max’s sleeping body to overhear it.

The “Over” came through like an afterthought a few seconds later.

Lucas honestly forgot he even needed to say it. At least, he had until Erica nudged his foot with hers and reminded him.

“Uh. Yeah- yeah. No problem.” Dustin shook his head like he needed to loosen the rejection,” I can check in later. How ‘bout around nine? Over.”

“Around nine. Over.” Lucas confirmed.

Dustin turned back down the sound and set the box back into the seat between him and Nancy.

“Hey. He’s okay. Just not ready for more shitty news.” Robin assured him, twisting in her seat to look in his eyes.

“Yeah.” he nodded back, not looking totally convinced.

Nancy leaned over to him and bumped his shoulder to draw his attention. She might’ve wanted to boil over and break something herself, but she didn’t like seeing the little guy get all bent out of shape. She gave him the best reassuring smile she could muster and told him they’d be okay. Steve started the car and began the drive back over to the suburbs to drop everyone off. First Nancy and Dustin, mostly so he could corner Robin and get the latest scoop on the Vickie front, and maybe find some way to kill time just the two of them before he went back home alone.

It didn't take long for them to return to the Wheelers. Maybe fifteen minutes and Steve was pulling into Nancy’s driveway to hand her back over to her family. Her mother stood in the open front door after she heard the car roll up. Karen waved at them as Nancy opened the back door to get out when suddenly she looked to the road confused.

“Did somebody order pizza?” she called to the kids and they all turned around to see a pizza delivery van rolling up.

Surfer Boy’s Pizza. Not a store any of them has ever heard of. And certainly, none of them called for lunch at the Wheelers. But, if it wasn’t anyone inside who called for the food and it wasn't any of them, why was it here?

At least, that’s what they all wondered to themselves until the side door slid open. Until they saw the people tumbling out of it were Will, El, and Mike. Then, from the front seats, there was Jonathan and another guy they didn’t recognize. But who cares if they didn’t know who he was? He helped bring them back, so he's practically a member of the team already.

As soon as they all realized who they were looking at, each of them threw open their doors and ran out for the reunion. Karen ran down the driveway until she had her boy in her arms. She practically tried to squeeze the life out of him, and he all but crumbled into the comfort and safety of his mother's arms. Nancy went straight for her long-distance boyfriend, now that said distance was something she could actually cross. She was lifted off the ground in his embrace. Legs kicked up behind her as he buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, just so relieved to see one another alright. Dustin hobbled forward until Will and El crashed into him, wrapping him up in their affection. He had them under each arm, holding tightly around their shoulders like he wasn’t sure he’d ever see them again.

Steve and Robin stepped forward, just a pace behind the others, seeing as they were less desperate to hold onto them. The new guy, Argyle they’d later find out, was his own distance across the way too. The three of them wore fond smiles, though. Even if they weren’t sharing tight hugs with their friends, just watching the others' joyful collisions together made them start to feel better themselves.

Karen doted on her son. Making comments through her teary voice that he doesn’t get to go on vacations anymore and that she wasn’t going to let him go to college because she needed to keep him right next to her. Nancy and Jonathan were whispering about what was going on. Clearly, both understanding that they’ve individually been involved in the ‘situation’ despite the separation. The set of three pulled away from each other as Dustin wiped away misty eyes.

Steve hadn’t had as much time to bond with the two of them as he had with Dustin, sure, but they were his kids too. And when Nancy told him that the government lady said they were missing, god, it scared him. It scared him like when he found Max looking near dead in Lucas’ arms. Because some kids go missing and pop back up in a few hours, but not these kids. These kids go missing, and the world goes to shit, and people die, and things don’t just work out for them all the time. So, while he allowed Henderson to be first, he had no plans to go much longer without any hugs of his own.

Steve stepped up and announced,” Alright, babysitter’s coming in to collect his too!”, as he ducked his arms around their waists and swept the two off their feet.

“Steve! Your stitches!” he heard Robin scold him.

But he didn’t care.

This was more important.

El and Will let out their own set of squeals and ‘Steve!’ as he swung them side-to-side, throwing their legs around them with reckless abandon. He didn’t stop until they both began to slap at his back and insist they be let down between their giggles. He set them both on their feet, leaving them rosy-cheeked and smiling. He peeked over and made eye contact with the other boy for a second. Mike, who, despite still being in his mother’s arms, made a face like he was worried Steve was going to come after him next.

Steve swatted a hand in his direction to let him know he was safe.

He never got in good with that kid. Mike was never all that impressed with him and still seemed to hold a grudge from his days with Nancy. Why? Steve had no idea. All he ever did was get caught climbing their gutter once or twice. And it wasn't like he was the one who broke up with Nancy or ever did anything to Mike. But, for whatever reason, that was the one member of the Party he couldn’t win over.

Will looked around them,“ Where’s Lucas?”

Dustin answered simply,“ He’s at the hospital.”

“Was he hurt?” worry found its way onto El's face.

He began to assure them,“ No. No, he’s…”, then he realized,” Oh God... You don’t know.” El looked to her brother for comfort.

“What don’t we know?” Will asked in her place.

Dustin shook his head.

He didn’t want to say the words. Every time someone said it, it became more real. And they didn’t know yet, so in their world, Max was fine. She wasn’t in a coma, body nearly broken into pieces by a twisted telekinetic, with no sign of when she’d wake up. If she’d wake up. But if he said it, he was taking that from them. Bringing them into the grim reality he’s been in the last few days… Making it real.

“Max is hurt.” Steve placed a hand on Dustin’s shoulder, taking the burden of saying the words, and brought his voice low,” We fought this thing, and it got to her. It’s bad.”

“Take me to her,” El said.

And Steve can’t say no.

Can’t seem even consider it when it’s El, he’s noticed.

The girl who’s gone to hell and back more times than any of them. The girl who’s barely even gotten to see the world she lives in. The girl whose hair has been cut close to her head again, just when she had finally been able to grow it out beyond her shoulders. The girl who’s lost too much in saving the world over and over again. Who lost her own dad, not even a year before.

“Nance.” Steve called over, said girl turning away from her boyfriend to look at him,” They want to go see Max.”

“Max?” Mike questioned as he pulled away from his mom.

“She’s in the hospital…” his sister filled in for him and told Jonathan,“ Yeah, yeah, we should all go over. She’s at Hawkins Memorial.”

In truth, Jonathan wanted nothing less than to climb back into that pizza van. After so many days stuck switching between its driver and passenger seat, he was tired of the whole damned thing. But if Max was in the hospital, that’s where they needed to be.

“Nancy, you’ll go with them and explain what’s going on?” Robin asked, receiving a nod as Nancy turned to climb into the very machine that’s made a half-country journey over the last few days.

Karen was resistant to letting go of her son and allowing him to be somewhere out of sight again. But she knew he needed to see his friends, and his sister would be with him. Her husband might try and act like Nancy was a mess of impulse and foolish emotion, but she knew her daughter was more than that. She’s strong and smart and one of the most responsible kids in the world, even if her ambition leads her to be brash sometimes. She moved her hands to pull her son’s forehead to her and smacked a kiss onto it once it was close enough.

“You are to come right back here after you finish checking on them,” she instructed, gently jabbing a finger into his chest to make sure he understood.

Mike rolled his eyes a little, but agreed,“ Alright, Mom.”

El and Will decided to ride in with Steve’s car to tell them their half of the story and catch up, while Nancy took her place in the back of the sun-faded yellow van next to Mike. While Argyle hopped back to the shotgun seat and Jonathan returned to his place behind the wheel, he decided to introduce himself to Nancy.

“I’m Argyle, and you’re my boy, Jonny’s, lady,” he stated instead of asking.

“Nancy,” she corrected his use of ��Jonny’s Lady’ as a title for her. Despite it, she stretched a smile across her face to keep off any other reaction that wanted to present itself,” And you’re the friend from California.”

“Yes, I am,” he replied, wearing an easy-going grin that looked a lot more genuine and effortless than her own.

She didn’t get him. They’ve only just met, so it’s probably unfair to have decided it, she knows. But, already, she doesn’t get him.

There’s a cadence to his speaking that’s so lax and comfortable, and he just lolls his head around like it’s some foreign weight on his neck that he’s still adjusting to. All that might be something she brushes off as just somebody who walks through the world differently than she does. But apparently, they don’t walk through it so dissimilarly since they’ve both latched onto Jonathan and have gotten mixed up in Upside Down business.

So how is he so… him right now?

There was a beat of awkward silence while Nancy pondered him when Argyle looked like he was gearing up to say something else.

”So, what happened over here?”, Jonathan stepped in. Hoping to bait off another ‘Well, this is awkward’ moment between Argyle and a Wheeler as they started to pull away from the driveway.

“A lot,” Nancy answered,” But before we get into that, how are you all fine? I spoke to someone who said you all went missing after your house was raided.”

Jonathan started explaining,“ Uh, yeah. We got stuck with these supervisors to make sure we didn’t run off while El was with the doctors, and we were planning to sneak away to find her when a bunch of guys came through the windows and the doors, shooting-”

“Shooting?”

“One of the agents died, and the other was hit and came with us while we got out with Argyle. He died just after though.”

“Harmon and Wallace.” Nancy nodded.

“Who?” Mike asked her.

“Those were the agents. Agent Harmon and Agent Wallace. Right?”

“Was that their names? We just kept calling the one ‘Unknown Hero Agent Man’.” Argyle commented, before turning around in his seat to ask,” Do you know which one he was?”

“No, I don’t,” Nancy stated with a shake of her head.

“Man, coulda started calling him ‘Known Hero Agent Man’. Or just by his name, I guess. You think if we just use both, it’ll split the respect 50/50?” he wondered aloud, mostly to himself and Jonathan.

”Anyway, that’s-,” Nancy started as Argyle tried to find the best answer for himself.

"Rest in peace Harmon or Wallace? Rest in peace Wallace or Harmon? Wallrmon? Harlace? RestInPeaceWallaceHarmon?"

"Well, we can leave respect to both of them. They both died semi-heroically, even if only one of 'em did it in the back of the van." Jonathan reasoned.

”Wait, you said you only had one of them with you?”

“Yeah, the other was killed when he answered the front door. He was collapsed against the living room wall when we started running for our lives. Why?” Jonathan asked her.

“The woman I talked to said both of the agents were missing with you guys.”

“No, no, we definitely left the other one behind at the house.”

“And we left the other-other one buried in the desert,” Argyle added.

“So what happened to him before the rest of the team showed up…?” Nancy muttered.

Jonathan checked,“ You’re sure she said they were both gone?”

“Yes, I’m sure. She was pretty clear about it.”

“I’m getting a feeling like that probably doesn’t mean anything good.” Argyle cast wary eyes out the window at all the trees that rolled by.

“Yeah… probably not.” Jonathan agreed with him and turned his attention back to Nancy,” Um, but what do you guys know, what’s been going on in Hawkins?”

“Where to start…? There’s this guy, Vecna-”

“Vecna?” Mike cut her off,” Like our campaign-”

“Exactly like Eddie’s campaign, Dustin started it-” Nancy confirmed until Mike was talking over her again.

“Eddie? Why are you talking about Eddie? How do you know Eddie? You two never-”

“Well, we’ve had a very busy week, Mike-”

“That does not explain why you would-”

“Stop interrupting me, and I’ll get there.”

“Wow, you two really are siblings.” Argyle mused in the passenger seat.

“What does that mean?” They asked in unison, both somewhat offended to be compared to the other.

Argyle put up in hands in surrender,” Nothing bad, dudes. Just making observation and conversation.”

“Anyway- Vecna was one of the kids from El’s thing, the first one-”

“Henry- Or One-" Jonathan said," We know about him. He was the reason Dr. Brenner’s whole experiment got started.”

“Well, do you know how he got started?” Nancy asked, her tone more bitter than she was trying for.

She didn’t know what it was. It might’ve been the fact that they lost to Vecna/Henry/One, it might’ve been the woman in the pantsuit trying to make her feel small, it might’ve been Mike interrupting her like a minute ago... It could’ve been anything. But something was making it sound like she needed to prove herself. She needed to prove that she was smart, and capable, and had information they didn’t.

She took their silence as an answer and started with the things they couldn’t have known about,” Did you know he was the son of Victor Creel? That he murdered his mother and sister right here in Hawkins twenty-seven years ago? Did you know Dr. Brenner was coming to take him away because his parents thought he was off, but when Victor was arrested for their murders was put in Pennhurst, Brenner just took him and started all of this because the boy had powers and sadistic tendencies?”

Jonathan admitted,“ No. We did not know that."

But something in him heard that undercurrent in her. Like she wanted to start a fight. Jonathan's never been the kind of guy who likes fighting, who likes the be the guy on top of someone else. He doesn't butt against her with what they learned, he just simply says it because they all need to be on the same page.

"We do know that, after One became Brenner’s subject, the Dr. took away what he could do and kept him in the facility working as an orderly. He got close with El and told her how to do her stuff better until she got rid of his shackles. He killed nearly everyone there and tried to kill her when she confronted him. But she overpowered him, even as a kid. Sent him to what we know as the Upside Down.”

“Why has she never-”

Mike answered,“ She didn’t know. Blocked it out or something until this week.”

“The woman, she said… is it true? That El has her…”

“Oh yeah, girlie’s got her mojo back and then some.” Argyle smiled as he spoke.

“Wow,” Nancy said, partially because it was the only thing she could think to say when Argyle spoke. She really didn't know how to handle him or his whole… vibe.

“Anyway, the point is that he’s been behind all of it. He’s been the thing that kept reaching in from the Upside Down. And, on the last day before Spring Break, he killed Chrissy Cunningham.”

“Chrissy Cunningham?” Mike asked, eyebrowed hiked halfway up his forehead.

Argyle whispered loudly to Jonathan,“ Who’s Chrissy Cunningham, dude?”

“Cheerleader, really pretty, dating - or, dated - the basketball captain.” he filled in the only non-local in the vehicle,“ But, wait, he killed her?”

“In Eddie Munson’s trailer.”

“What?” Mike’s eyebrows went impossibly higher.

“Whole town thought Eddie killed her, but Max noticed her lights went on the fritz when it happened so we started looking into it as an Upside Down situation. As time passed, Vecna - or Henry or One - got Fred Benson and Patrick McKinney-”

“Kid on the school paper. Basketball player.” Jonathan translated the names for Argyle.

“And he tried to get Max. Twice.”

“Dr. Sam told El that things were crazy back here, but that you guys were fine. El didn’t believe him and checked. Said you guys were planning to take him down and were going to get yourself hurt when Max said she was marked by him.” Mike said to her.

Nancy started talking with her hands as she began to explain what they knew about Vecna’s situation,“ For some reason, Vecna doesn’t come over to this side. He just makes these little tears and stuff, but nothing enough for him to cross. I don’t think he can make something that big on his own. So he was finding these tormented kids, and broke into their heads with nightmares and delusions until he killed them… and somehow, their death's made these little tears that lingered. He needed four of them to open a bigger gate. And he’d decided one of them was Max. We kept him off of her once and put together a plan to have Max draw him away so we could dive or climb into the Upside Down through one of the small ones and destroy his physical body. To put a stop to it.”

“And all of this happened Thursday?” Jonathan asked, looking at her in his rearview mirror.

“Yeah, how did you-”

“We couldn’t get any flights to get over here after we got El back and she said it was looking bad for Max. El figured, if we couldn’t physically get here in time, we could put her in a salt bath like three years ago in the gym. So she could find Max and use her to piggyback into Henry’s head.”

“Mind Fight,” Argyle commented.

“She said while she was fighting him, he started having these reactions like something else was happening to him and then him and everything around them just faded away.”

“We lit him up with Molotov cocktails and buckshot.”

“So it worked.” Mike nodded, but was still confused,” Then why was there an earthquake and-”

“It didn’t work.” Nancy told him sadly,” Where we were supposed to find his body, it was missing. He got to Max. And then he got away. Somehow. And the gate opened for over a minute.”

“Max died?” her brother gaped at her.

“Eddie did, too.”

“What?”

“He went in with Dustin to distract the monsters. We pulled him out, but he bled a lot. Steve had to give him CPR, and we got them both back, but he’s in the hospital with Max.”

“Wait- that’s who El…?” Jonathan began to ask, cutting himself off as he connected the dots.

“What?”

He continued,“ El said there was someone else with you guys. A guy she didn’t know. Lots of hair, right?”

“It was Eddie?” her brother asked, remembering El's mumbling when she came back.

“Yeah.”

“But he’s fine, now?” Mike hoped.

Nancy was quiet for a moment. She didn’t have the kind of answer he wanted,“ He hasn’t woken up yet. Neither has Max.”

“El can check on them.” Jonathan declared.

“What do you mean she can check on them?”

“You remember how I said ‘and then some’?” Argyle asked her.

“Yeah?”

“This is the some.” Jonathan took over,” El, like, remote resuscitated them, or something. We don’t really know what she did. She doesn’t really know what she did. But she did something and they didn't stay gone.”

“What does that mean?”

“We don’t know, not yet…”

“I guess we’ll just have to find out.” Nancy finished as Jonathan pulled into the hospital parking lot.

The other carpool had a somewhat similar conversation as they drove behind. Filled in all the blanks from the past week for each other, but there was notably a lot less bickering between siblings. Dustin had tried to reach Lucas on the radio, but he wasn’t responding. In truth, he might’ve shut it off with the plans to hear from him that night.

When they turned the corner into the lot, Will found one of Steve’s zip-up hoodies in the back seat. It was a dark blue, not quite navy, color with worn drawstrings that’d have come undone in the wash and been retied about a dozen times. With Steve’s blessing, they get El slipped into it to cover her now near-shaven head to avoid attracting too much attention, She steadies her nerves and pulls the hood over as she sets her sights on the building.

It took a minute because it was still so busy with patients coming in and going out, but eventually, both cars got parked, and the members of the slowly reforming Party climb out onto the pavement. They came together and headed inside to see what’s become of their unconscious companions. And to see what they can do about it.

[touyaz]

the place I'm staying at rn doesn't have shower curtains and I js know bachira would dig that an unhealthy amount <33

[paralien]

what if I just kill myself in the most fucked up way possible at work. giving the guests at the hotel trauma for life when they find me in some hannibal-eque grotesque state in the lobby. would that be fucked up or what hahaha

[jamminvroomvroom]

second time around.

ln x fem!reader

in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.

staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.

3.9k words

take: 1

the season is coming to an end.

somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.

it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.

she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.

“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.

at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.

you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.

“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“

“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”

you mull over his words.

your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.

but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…

“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.

“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.

-

his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.

you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.

his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.

“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.

when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.

something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.

when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.

he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.

hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.

“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.

you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.

you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.

lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.

but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.

an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.

your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.

-

date night

almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.

it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.

every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.

you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.

fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.

“later.” you whisper.

his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.

the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.

he launches his attack during dessert.

vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.

“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”

lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.

“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.

“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”

you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.

“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.

“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.

“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.

“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.

“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”

you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.

-

he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.

you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.

he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.

your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.

he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.

at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.

now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.

you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.

you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.

lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.

he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.

-

the fear

lando is due back from qatar.

any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.

he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.

a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.

you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.

you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.

instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.

you raise and eyebrow.

“lando?” you question.

your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.

“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.

the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.

“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.

“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.

lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.

he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.

“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.

“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.

your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.

when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.

“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.

-

when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.

lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.

he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.

“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.

“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.

“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.

“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.

“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.

gentle snores lull you to sleep.

-

quickie

you go with him to austin.

it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.

“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.

“this won’t take long.” he smirks.

you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.

you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.

lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.

thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.

“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.

your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.

“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”

you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.

-

office party

a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.

the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.

you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.

when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.

it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.

you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.

he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.

“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.

“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.

“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.

“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.

lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.

it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.

the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.

he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.

“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.

he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.

“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”

you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.

“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.

“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”

you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.

-

a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.

you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.

when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.

“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.

“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.

but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!

you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.

-

once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239

removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & YOU USING THEM AS A BODY PILLOW .

characters. wriothesley scara x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. this is so tiney im so sorry anon but this is all my brain can handle rn ueueuueue. i hope this is okay :"))))) . | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

wriothesley

wriothesley actually doesn't mind being your body pillow...

i mean. you're comfortable. he's comfortable

everybody wins!

but also sometimes you squeeze him really hard and he freezes up because how are you so STRONG. like what the hell

(secretly he thinks of you picking him up like that. ough)

wriothesley doesn't actually have the heart to tell you to move aside.

how can he, when you look like such an angel wrapped around his waist? bathroom and bladder control be damned.

it's like having a cat on your lap. rule number one: never move from your spot if you're the chosen one. congratulations. you're bound to the couch forever

when you wake up, though ... wriothesley has fallen asleep. now it's your turn to not move. you're the body pillow now. hehe.

scara

grumpy cat. gruuuuumpy cat

okay i feel like maybe i push the scara hates things agenda a lot. i don't actually think scara hates this... when he knows that it makes you happy, he's willing to sacrifice his back just for you

maybe at the most he acts as if he's reluctant. dont let it fool you though – he's warm to the touch and actually a relatively good cuddler.

please don't be fooled! he might warm up to the idea sooner or later

it really is a win though, please keep convincing him. he gets cuddles, you get cuddles, and he doesn't even have to ask for it! no more convincing himself that he's fine and doesn't need that

especially when you initiate it. just keep doing it – watch as he slowly inches closer towards you. maybe he even tries to put his arm on your waist, stroking it with his thumb. just maybe.

and maybe, you're the one who allows him to open up to physical affection.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes (send ask/comment to be added to taglist) plus birthday tag!! @catcze hope u like the wriothesley part, pls cuddle himmmm

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this and would like to support me, please consider dropping me a follow as well :-) they all go a long way!

[lnlightning81]

All American

Summary: An all American team on the grid.

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x reader, Max Verstappen x reader (breifly), Carlos Sainz x reader (breifly), Oscar Piastri x reader (briefly)

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Logan Sargeant Masterlist

Tag List

Logan’s year in formula one hadn’t ended the best, but neither had yours. Logan was dropped by Williams Formula One Racing whereas you had been dropped by Arrow Mclaren due to an injury at the end of the indycar season that meant you’d missed too many races and it was in your contract that you couldn’t miss more than four races.

However, for you, being dropped by Arrow was probably the best thing that had ever happened because Andretti was allowed into Formula One. Offering you a place within formula one after your ‘Great work in Indycar’ you couldn’t help but accept the offer. Working with an American company also helped you decide. 

Your first meeting in the Andretti office allowed you to meet your new team, your mechanics, your race engineer, your performance engineer, PR manager and everyone else who’d be surrounding you for most of the year. Your teammate wasn’t decided at this point, though. 

However, when you went back for simulation testing, your new race engineer and performance engineer were waiting for you. Except your new teammate was also doing some simulation testing. Logan Sargeant. 

You smiled over to him as you sat in the simulator. You were glad to see that he also got a second chance at racing. You knew he was a good driver. Just Williams didn’t have any trust in him, and the car wasn’t showing enough performance for him. 

However, your simulation testing was a little different. Andretti knew you could reach the times they were looking for; they just wanted to ensure that after your injury you’d be ready to race by the time the new season started. Once both yours, and logan's teams had left, you walked over to him to see him practising 

“Hey there” You smiled, leaning on the back of his seat 

“Hey” He looked up with a smile 

“So were teammates now huh” You smiled, and he nodded 

“Yeah I guess so. What happened with Mclaren?” He asked. Motorsports in America wasn’t a big thing, so most drivers knew yeah other 

“Broke my wrist and took longer than four races to heal, so they terminated my contract. I was mad at first. Fans were more than mad, but it’s in my contract. Getting injured isn’t on anyone’s agenda” You shrugged, looking at his data. 

“Anyway keep testing” You hummed watching as he raced around Melbourne. 

“I hate Melbourne” He mumbled, and you nodded 

“Change your racing line a little. Turn two try to come off the brakes a little later. How’s your stats been racing here before?” You asked 

“Twenty-three. I DNFed and twenty-four I got my car taken off me” He explained, and you nodded 

“When was the last time you raced here?” He asked 

“I did some testing for Mclaren two years ago? When I was their reserve driver but that was ages ago. Sim work every day almost though” You shrugged, and he nodded. 

“I guess that makes sense” He shrugged, and you nodded. 

“Oh look at that. See my tips work” You joked, walking over to grab your bag from your sim 

“Thanks. Any more tips?” He asked, and you shook your head

“Not for Melbourne. When we move on, give me a shout” You hummed. Walking out of the simulator, you walked down to the cafeteria. The best thing about joining an American company is that although you were on diets to keep your body correct while racing, they still make the best typical American food even if it’s diet themed. 

Thanking the woman behind the counter, you took a plate sitting down at one of the tables. Scrolling on your phone as you ate the chicken and rice. You hadn’t been announced for Andretti yet, but neither had Logan. They were waiting for the right time, apparently. 

Although speaking to your race engineer, they wanted to wait until pre-season testing, but the FIA wasn’t allowing that. It had to be announced at least a month before pre-season testing. Posting a picture of the simulator on instagram, you closed the app, opening up the group chat where you streamed with a few friends, including Max Verstappen. 

They were planning on streaming, but due to your training for going into Formula One. Looking up, Logan was sitting in front of you with his own plate of rice and chicken. 

“This is so much better than Williams” He chuckled, and you laughed 

“Yeah well first of all they’re British. Second of all it’s rice and chicken” You tilted your head to look at him. 

“What’s your plan for this afternoon?” He asked 

“Meeting with my performance engineer. She wants me to start my neck training” You huffed, and he laughed. 

“Neck training isn’t that bad” He shrugged 

“Yeah I know. I don’t mind neck training it’s just my friends have plans, and I’m missing it to torture my neck” You shrugged, and he nodded 

“Fair enough. How are you feeling about coming on the grid?” He asked, and you looked at him. It’s something you’d never thought about 

“Well. I’ve never actually thought about it, to be honest with you. I know Lando, Daniel, Carlos, Oscar, and Max, so I guess knowing some people helps? I obviously know Pato as well” You shrugged 

“Yeah, getting to know people really does help. It’s my biggest regret hiding in the Williams garage and not getting to know new people” You nodded with a small smile

“Well let’s make a deal. This year. You and I make as many friends as possible. I know Max and Daniel are troublemakers, so they’ll make sure I get to know people, so you’ll just have to follow me about” You shrugged with a smile, and he chuckled 

“That’s a deal L/N” 

A month later and you were now on the grid for pre-season testing sat in the Andretti garage just minding your own business as you watched Logan doing the testing, obviously sandbagging because the bosses didn’t want to show off what the car was able to do just yet. 

A flash of colour caught the corner of your eye as you looked over spotting a couple other drivers looking into Logan’s part of the garage which was open for all to see unlike your side which was blocked off due to the floor of your car was off. 

Pushing the headphones so they rested around your neck,, you walked over to the group of drivers who were being nosey about the garage. 

“Hello boys” You hummed tilting your head as you stood trying to figure out what they were looking at. 

“Y/N” Max smiled, giving you a quick hug 

“What are you all looking at?” You asked confused, causing Max and Daniel to shrug 

“No idea. Lando and Carlos just started staring at something” You looked back into the garage to see mechanics just sitting about. You shrugged, putting the headphones back on your head, shoving one side off so you could listen to them talk. 

“How’s your wrist?” Daniel asked 

“How's yours?” You asked, and he chuckled 

“Fair enough, but honestly, how is it?” He asked again 

“Physio is going well. Simulator work is going okay, and I guess we’ll see how actually driving goes when I get out there tomorrow” You shrugged 

“You’re not going out today?” Max asked, and you shook your head 

“Logan does today, I do tomorrow, and we both do the third day” You explained 

“Ferrari’s doing that as well” Carlos nodded with a shrug as you quickly jogged into the garage, hearing Logan’s panicked voice through the radio. 

“Jesus” You mumbled while watching the TV. Someone stopped on track right as Logan was doing a flying lap, causing him to go into the gravel trap. His panicked radio broke your heart, hearing him ask if he had done something wrong and the fact he had hurt himself trying to save himself from crashing into someone else. Biting your lip as the rest of the drivers stood next to you watching the TV. 

“What happened?” Oscar asked with a frown 

“Someone stopped on track during his flying trap” You explained, watching their facial expressions change as you were called over to the pit wall. Jogging over and standing behind Logan’s race engineer and your team principal 

“Change of schedule. Logan’s floor is damaged so you’re going out this afternoon” You nodded slightly walking back into the garage knowing that you’re going to have to get changed out of the nice comfortable uniform Andretti had provided. 

Having changed into your fireproofs, you walked out to the garage to see the drivers talking to Logan. Walking over to him, you wrapped your arms around him from the side

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Don’t beat yourself up for it” You smiled up at him. Over the past month, you had become very close with Logan. Maybe a little closer than teammates should probably be, but you both had a lot in common, including being American. 

“You’re going to do great though” He shrugged, and you looked him in the eyes 

“Is your tongue okay? I heard you bit it” You frowned, and he nodded

“Yeah, it was bleeding a little, but by the time I got back here, it had stopped” He shrugged, and you nodded 

“Okay” You nodded, accepting your equipment from your performance engineer. Most of the other drivers went back to their own garage. 

As you put your earphones in and pulled the balaclava on your race engineer went over the plan for the afternoon. With a nod, you pulled your helmet on, ensuring it was tight before getting in the car. Pulling your gloves in as a mechanic placed your wheel in the car 

“Radio check Y/N” They nodded 

“Loud and clear” You smiled

Tag list

@bearryyy

@lozzamen3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@f1kenzzz

@evie-119

@ahgase99

@velocesainz

@callsignwidow

[norrisleclercf1]

Bad Reputation

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Sainz!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Words: 2.2K

Requested: Yes/No

Request: Omg this is random but can you pls write bad reputation max x super good girl reader? Like everyone says she shouldn’t go for max and criticising their relationship, saying he’s bad for her and whatever but they just don’t know him like she does and we all know max is the sweetest person irl (and Netflix is a bitch for pushing a bad agenda about him) and it’s just all the sweet secret moments they have between them? Kinda like the song ‘call it what you want’ by taylor swift & delicate (‘my reputations never been worse, so you must like me for me’) 🥺

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, secret relationship, Papa and Carlos are fuckers, Carlos is a petty bitch, nothing major honestly

Max Verstappen The Notorious Bad Guy That Stole A Championship 

You scuff at the news article on your phone. How ridiculous. Not only was it dragging up old wounds, but distasteful simply due to Max dominating right now. 

"Something wrong?" Your eyes peer at your brother over your sunglasses. "No, just another distasteful article about Max again." You try to reign in the anger of your words, but it's evident as the man across from you raises his eyebrow. "You defend him too much." Rolling your eyes, you want to bite back that you don't. 

It'd be a lie, of course. You knew Max better than everyone else. Yet, you had to keep that hidden from the world. "You're just jealous because he's been kicking your ass." Sticking your tongue out at your brother Carlos who flips you off. "Carlos, you put your finger down right now." Your mother hisses, fixing your hair which has you moving away. 

"She's not a baby, Mama," Carlos grumbles, leaning back into the lawn chair. "Carlos, your sister is a good girl. Don't sully her eyes." Your mother sighs, placing plates of food down. "Mama, stop. I'm not a child." You grumble, lowering the brightness on your phone. 

You hated having to hide your relationship with Max. But, he was known to have a horrible temper, foul-mouthed, cheater, thief, and everything else under the sun. But, to you? He was calm, a boy who grew into a man too quickly, chasing the records to be etched into greatness. Max's foul mouth was never pointed at you. That mouth gave you soft promises and sweet nothings. 

Everyone judged him because of DTS, his radios, and the fact he had no remorse when it came to the races, driving hard and winning hard. They needed someone to blame, and Max was the easy escape for fans and teams alike. 

I saw the article. You didn't steal it. You won fairly. They don't want to admit it. 

Hitting send, you place your phone on your lap, waiting for a reply. You knew it'd be late in Monaco as you enjoyed the summer break with Carlos back home in Spain. Throughout the night, you kept checking your phone, unable to help yourself. A soft buzz on your lap has your smile growing more than usual as you look at your phone. 

I could care less; I'll only care if they involve you. No one knows yet, and that's for the best. When do you come back? I miss you. 

Those three words have your heart beating faster. He missed you? Max and you haven't been together long, just shy of 7 months. Still, in that honeymoon phase, you always made excuses to your brother and his friends about why you couldn't hang out. Carlos was going suspicious, even once tried following you only to see you go to a bookstore. 

I miss you too. Have to go. Carlos is about to- 

You hit send just as Carlos snatches your phone. "Carlos! Give it back!" Swiping for the phone, Carlos steps back as he looks at your screen. He laughs as you two fight for the phone, but it dings, making you frantic. "Carlos, please. Please give me back my phone. I'm begging you." Desperation evident. "What? Texting your boyfriend?" Carlos jokes, but that smile of his slips when he reads the text. 

"Carlos, I can explain." He tosses your phone back, all traces of your brother gone, replaced with a pissed-off man. "Max answered your text. We'll talk later." He whispers in your ear, going back to his seat. The rest of the family joining the two of you now. Looking down at your phone, you see the text and know Carlos is about to lose his mind. 

Call me. Love you buttercup 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lying on your bed, you stare at Max's contact. You want to call him, but you know Carlos is waiting for the party downstairs to die so he can slip away. Max had texted you multiple times since the afternoon, ranging from asking how dinner was to asking if you were angry with him. 

"Y/n?" Shooting up, you fix your shirt as your older brother Carlos pokes his head in. "I'm still awake." Carlos pushes the door wider, fitting his body through before closing it with no sound. "Do I need to ask, or will you tell me?" He moves from the door to lay on your bed, you following him. "Carlos, please don't make me." He huffs, his larger hand holding yours. "Why? Because you'll know what I'll say? And I will say it, pequeña." You sit up, staring at your phone screen. 

It lights up, Max's smiling face staring at you. Unable to look at it, you hit decline and mute it. "He's good to me, Carlos." Your brother snorts, rolling his eyes at those words. "So what? You know his reputation. He's a loose canon that doesn't care who he hurts. You'll be a casualty in his warpath." Carlos sits up, rubbing your shoulder as he stands. "Dump him, pequeña. He'll only hurt you." Carlos doesn't wait for an answer, leaving with a sense of accomplishment, thinking you'll dump Max. 

Standing, you look at yourself in the mirror. The small silver bracelet with a little lion hides slips from your sleeve, reminding you of the day Max gave it to you. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

3 months ago 

"Max, I'm going to be late. Carlos and Papa are strict about curfew." It was stupid, but the men in your family still gave you a curfew. You did have the good girl image as the youngest Sainz to uphold. "We've got 30 minutes. Besides, I can get us back in 5," Max smirks, tugging you through the crowded festival. 

Smiling, you tug him back, wrapping your other arm around the one holding your hand. Unable to help himself, he leans down, kissing you without a care who saw. "Come on. There is one stand I want to visit." High off the kiss, you nod as you move around the people. Max stops before this tiny little stand with an older woman making jewelry. 

"Excuse me, can you make this for me?" The older woman smiles, taking a slip of paper in Max's hand. Opening it, her smile grows as she nods and gets to work. "What's she making?" Max shushes you, kissing your ear. "Be patient, buttercup." Unable to stop the blush, you turn away, hiding your face in his side. Laughing, he kisses the top of your head as fireworks explode above. 

The older woman finishes what she is working on, handing it to Max. Pocketing it, he hands over more money than needed. Before the woman notices, Max tugs you away. "Where are we going?" You yell over the loud music and fireworks. "Somewhere, quiet." The farther you walk, the music starts to fade, but the fireworks still burst into colors above. You gasp, seeing a little gazebo with a pond around it. "Come on." He urges, pulling you out of your haze. 

The two of you run to the gazebo, you jumping up the ledge so you can look Max in the eye. "How'd I get so lucky?" Max whispers, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I think I should be asking that." With a hum, you rest your head on his chest, watching the fireworks. Max says nothing as you enjoy the show and others' warmth. "Oh, this is for you," Max whispers, leaning down to grab something from his pocket. 

"Max, you shouldn't have gotten me anything." Hating when he spends money on you. "Stop. You're the light in my life right now. Let me be the one to make it burn brighter." Shutting you up with a kiss. Pulling away with giggles, he places the silver bracelet in your palm, looking away. Peering at it, your heart squeezes as you stare at a little lion head dangling off it. 

"We can't always be together when we're so close, sooo," Max groans, shy at admitting this. "This will prove that even though I can't always be next to you, I'm here." Pointing at the lion's head, looking up, he stops seeing tears in your eyes. "It's perfect. I love you." Your eyes grow wide as you both take in what you have just said. 

"Oh, Max. God, it's so earlier. I'm so-" Words get swallowed as his lips mesh with yours, kissing away your apologies. "Don't apologize. I love you too, Y/n Sainz." The two of you laugh, losing yourself in one another. Curfew be damned. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Present Day 

"Stay away from Max. Today is a race day, we don't need you getting caught and your name being ruined." Your father hisses so others don't hear. So much for trusting Carlos. He told your father immediately, not even giving you a chance. "Yes, Papi." Your father nods and lets you go, heading to talk to your cousin and Carlos. 

Carlos looks at you smiling, but you lift your hand, flipping him off; no shame in showing off the bracelet Max gave you. Carlos's face turns sour, leaning in, whispering something to your father, who turns his face filled with rage. "Mama, going for a drink." Your mother waves you off, slipping through people, careful not to be spotted by cameras or media personnel. 

It was stupid and reckless. You knew that walking that way was asking for trouble. You just couldn't help it, wanting one glimpse of Max. Stepping back and into the shadows, cameras come rushing past saying they just saw Max. Looking up, you feel a presence behind you and a hand on your mouth. Letting out a scream, it's muffled as that warm voice soothes you. "Buttercup, it's me." Automatically your body relaxes into his.

"Max?" Chuckling, he drops his hand, spinning you around. Fingers going for the lion head rubbing it. "Papi and my family know." Max's smile falls, fingers still, and he steps back. "Oh." You hate that he's doing this. Shutting down and refusing to talk about this. "Max, hey." Grabbing his hand, you pull him back close. "Please don't shut down on me. Please, I don't care what my family says. I love you." Max sighs, looking down at you as he yanks you into a hug. 

"I love you too, but I don't want my reputation to harm you." He whispers into your hair, his racing heart calming by holding you in his arms. "Fuck that. I want you, Max. I picked you. You were my first and last choice." Max leans down, kissing the bracelet, then your lips. "I have to go. Race is about to start." You nod, giving him one last kiss as you watch him rush off. 

"Where were you?" You control the urge to roll your eyes at your brother. You're tired of hiding how you feel, and you weren't going to be ashamed of it. "I was with Max. If you have a problem with it, deal with it." You hiss before joining the rest of your family, refusing to say a word. 

"YES!" You knew it was wrong to scream loudly when Max crossed the line, a photo finish with your brother. You didn't care. Max deserved this win, but Carlos didn't. The backstabber needed to feel this sting, and you're glad he would. Ripping off the headphones, you make a run to parc ferme, only to be yanked back. 

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Your father snarls. "LET GO OF ME!" People turn, your father letting you go immediately as you take deep breaths. "I love him! I love him, Papi! He's the only one who understands me and is a good man! But you and Carlos are so blinded by the media and the rumors that you don't see how happy I am! So fuck you and this stupid image! I'm going to kiss the love of my life." Laughing, you turn, bolting off, watching Max jump out of the car, celebrating. 

"MAX!" Hearing your voice, his helmet turns, looking at you. Without a second thought, he rushes over, scooping you up, pulling you over the rails as you hug him tight. "I love you, I love you." You repeat before you lean back, kissing his helmet. You can see his eyes scrunch in happiness. 

"I don't care what people say; I don't care about your bad reputation. You're mine, good or bad. I choose you." Max laughs, spinning you around as people scream and cheer. From the corner of your eye, you see a red storm past, not even looking at you. He'll get over it. Even if he doesn't, you still have Max. 

[ickadori]

++ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐔

[summary] your parents have no place in getou’s new world, but you do.

[cws] fem reader. death. murder -> getou is killing your monkey as parents, but it’s not described, just hinted at! yandere vibes but i didn’t lean into it heavy. mentions of getou’s past crimes (village slaughtering/killing his parents). hinted that reader used to like getou. unedited.

“You can’t be here.”

If your body hadn’t locked up in fear, you would have given yourself a pat on the back for keeping your voice so steady despite the panic curdling in your chest at the sight of Getou Suguru standing on your doorstep—your parent’s doorstep.

“I can’t visit my dear old friend? We are friends, aren’t we?” No, you had stopped being friends with him the moment you heard of what he did to his parents—no, not even then, because you couldn’t believe it at first.

“Getou Suguru killed the people of the village, as well as his parents.”

You had balked when Yaga first said those words to you, and then you had spat venom as you vehemently denounced the claim. I mean, it was Getou. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t. Someone had gotten something terribly, terribly wrong. He wasn’t that kind of person, he wasn’t evil.

There had to have been some kind of mishap — an anomaly. Perhaps his technique had failed and one of his curses had turned against him and killed the villagers, and he was powerless to stop it. Or maybe there had been some kind of colluding - it wouldn’t be the first time that the higher-ups pulled a nasty, underhanded tactic for their own hidden agendas.

But then Gojo had come to you with bloodshot eyes and wild hair, and you had known it was true, even though the both of you had desperately wished it wouldn’t.

Even then, with the confirmation that Getou had turned his blade against the people you all had spent your life training to protect, you still hadn’t turned your back on him…until you had seen the state of his childhood home.

The walls, once painted a a soft cream, had been stained a dark red, splatters of blood stretched high up to the ceilings. The pictures on the walls that contained images of a young Geto positioned in between his parents, beaming smiles on all of their faces, had been smashed beyond recognition. The recliner that you vividly remember seeing his father napping in, book laid on his chest and glasses slipping down his nose, had been flipped, the fabric slashed to shreds and the cushion spilling out. His mother’s apron, a gift that you had given her one year for her birthday, had laid in bloody tatters next to it.

You would have thought he hated them with the savage way he had killed them (didn’t he, though? Was this his way of showing you all just how serious he was?), he hadn’t even left behind a piece of bone to properly identify them, and the implication that he had let the curses he hosted consume them had made you sick to your stomach.

That’s when you began to hate Suguru Getou, but even more than that, you began to fear him.

“No, we’re not.” Whatever steel that had been in your voice before was now gone, and the waver in it was clear as your hand tightened on the doorknob. You wanted to slam it close and turn the lock, but what good would that do? He’d get in, and while you were a decent enough sorcerer, him and Gojo had been the real hotshots, you just happened to be entertaining enough for them to let you tag along. He could kill you easily, your parents even easier, and your stomach twists into painful knots as you think to your mother who’s only a few feet away and sitting on the couch, curled into your father’s side as they watch a movie together.

“That hurts my feelings,” he smiles, and instead of the fluttery feeling that it used to give you, it only makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “I considered you family, y’know—I still do.”

You bristle, eyes narrowing into slits as a wave of anger washes over you, quickly replacing that all-consuming fear. “Is that why you’re here? To kill me just like you did your family? Your parents?”

“My family?” He tilts his head, a look of confusion taking over his features, and you finally notice his new look. He’s garbed in a monks robes, and his hair that had usually been kept tidy and out of the way now flows down his back. A fleeting thought of his attractiveness passes by, and you don’t entertain it. “Oh, those monkeys.” An easy smile graces his lips as he bats his hand in the air, as if shooing away something bothersome. “No, I’m not here to kill you. You actually have a place in this world, unlike…” His eyes make a motion to the side when he hears your mom’s grumbled complaint of the show, and he’s been inside your house enough to know exactly where the couch sits.

“Leave, Getou.” His eyes slide back to yours, that smile still on his face, and the fear from before comes back tenfold at his unspoken intentions. “Now.”

“You don’t have to look so scared,” he laughs lightly, and you jump when you hear your mother call out to you.

“Who’s that at the door, sweetie?” You hear the sound of her shuffling towards you, and your heart lurches up into your throat as you freeze. What do you do? What can you do? Tears well up in your eyes when you come to the realization that whatever you did would be pointless in the end. If he wanted your parents dead, then they’d be dead.

“Please, Suguru.” The floorboard creaks behind you, and his smile widens further at the desperation in your voice. Please don’t hurt them.

“Honey, who are—oh! Getou? I haven’t seen you in ages! How’re you doing, hun? I thought you were still overseas.” Your mother sidles up beside you, a pleased smile on her face as she takes him in. Getou looks to you, clearly wondering when he had gone overseas, and you think back to the lie you had told when your mother kept questioning you about where your ‘handsome little friend had gone’.

“I’ve just gotten back tonight, actually.” He smoothly lies, hands disappearing into the sleeves of his robes, and your heart rate skyrockets as your brain conjures up various scenarios, scenarios in which all end the same exact way. “I missed your daughter so much that I just had to come and see her.”

Your mother swoons.

“H-He’s leaving, actually.”

“I’m not, actually.” He retorts, and your mother throws a glance your way, and you meet her gaze, hoping and praying that she’d realize the gravity of the situation by the look on your face. She’s your mother, she raised you, she knew all your moods, good and bad, surely she should know when something was seriously wrong with—

“Why don’t you come inside then and get out of this cold? You can tell us all about your stay overseas over some tea.”

Nonononono.

“Oh, how kind, I’d love to.”

-

“How are your parents doing, Geto? I haven’t heard from your mother in a while… she missed out on the market’s half off deal last Saturday.”

Dead. He killed them. He killed them and he’s going to kill you, too.

Your stomach gives another lurch, and you press shaking hands in between your thighs and squeeze them together tight. I can call Gojo, you think. He’d get here in seconds thanks to his teleportation, and in a battle of strength between him and Getou, he came out on top every time. Of course, somehow being able to sneak away to grab your phone would be a risk. But you had to try, you couldn’t just keep sitting here and prolonging their death while they chatted about an overseas trip that never happened, and parents that had long been murdered by their own son.

“…find yourself a partner yet, Getou? I’m sure you have, with your good looks and all.” Your father gives his wife a raise of his brow, but otherwise keeps his attention on the television. “Oh, it’s a pity. You know…” Your mother gives you a sly look, and you narrow your eyes at her as you give a firm shake of your head. “I always thought you two had a little spark going on.”

“Mom.”

Getou grins like the chesire cat, and you wonder if he’s always looked this devious and you were just too blinded by…whatever to notice. “I actually haven’t found anyone yet, although I do have someone in mind.”

“Oh.” She jovially laughs, her hand softly batting at your shoulder as she throws you another look, and you couldn’t keep the grimace off your face if you tried. “It wouldn’t happen to be my lovely, sweet, beautiful, hardworking, amazing cook—”

“—I’m not listening to this.” You shoot to your feet, using the excuse of this embarrassment of a conversation to your aid. It’s a good enough reason to make a swift exit —a mother trying desperately to set her daughter up with the man who’s plotting to kill her and her husband— and swift it is, your feet quickly carrying you up the stairs and down the hall.

“—oh, come on, honey! I’m just playing around!”

Your mother’s voice fades out as you push open your bedroom door and immediately lunge for your phone that’s lying on the bed. You grab it with shaking hands, fingers frantically tapping in your password, and your eyes dart between the screen and the hallway.

A silence falls over the house, and you make a choked noise as your mind jumps to the worse. He’s killed them. He finally got tired of playing nice and killed them. Oh God, he’s killed them.

“…just down the hall and to the ri—well, you’ve been here plenty times! You know the way!” A wave of relief washes over you at the sound of your mother’s voice, only for a surge of panic to rise when you realize he’s on his way and you’ve still yet to call Gojo. You’d have to settle for a text, then.

Your fingers fly across the screen as you move to the text chain you have with Gojo, and you begin to type a message. Getou is here please help, quick and to the point. Your thumb moves to send it, only for a blob of something black to suddenly engulf your hand.

You suck in a sharp breath, eyes widening and arm flinging to the side as you try to fling whatever the hell is on you away, and go to release it in a scream, only for a hand to clamp around your mouth from behind, nails painfully digging into the fat of your cheek. There’s a numbingly cold presence at your back, and your ears twitch at the ragged breathing in your ear.

You know before you look down and see the dark, ghoulish hand that it’s a curse, and you gag as the scent of rotting flesh floods your nostrils. The sound of your bedroom door lock clicking into place reaches your ears, and your eyes snap up to see Getou leaning against it, hands clasped in front of him as he looks at you through his lashes, head tilted down so his chin reaches his chest.

“Your mother doesn’t know when to shut up.” He sighs, and then he’s pushing away from the door and sheathing his hands back into his sleeves, eyes slowly taking in your room. “A second longer and you would have gotten that text off. To Satoru, I’m assuming?” The blob that had engulfed your hand plops down to the floor, and you gag again at the sticky liquid that drips from your palm and onto the carpet.

Getou splays out his palm, and then the phone is spat out and up from the curse before landing in his hand. He glances down at the screen and tsks. “I should kill them right now.”

You scream into the curse’s palm, your head frantically shaking wide to side as best it can. The nails dig in deeper, and you moan in pain, your own hands moving to attempt to free yourself, only for the thing’s other hand to snag ahold of your wrists and wrench them behind your back.

“They were supposed to be dead two hours ago, but I figured I’d let you have a few more moments with them for old times sake.” He smiles as he stoops to look at a picture on your bedside table — it’s one that you had taken the winter before Getou had turned into what he was now. You were sandwiched between him and Gojo, a grin on the white haired man’s face as he leaned his elbow on the top of your head. You were in the middle of sending your fist into his stomach (that of which had been blocked by his infinity, you faintly recall) while Getou watched the two of you with a small smile on his face.

It was the last picture that the three of you had taken together, and you had thrown it away countless times, only to later find yourself rooting through the bin as you frantically searched through it.

Your eyes fill with tears once again.

“Those were fun times, yeah?” He comes to a stop in front of you, and the curse that had been restraining you suddenly lets you go. It steps around you, and you watch, frozen, as it takes hurried steps out of your room. You gasp in a breath, your hands flying to his robes as you clench them in your fists.

“I’m begging you,” you croak, the tears freely falling down your cheeks. “Please don’t do this, Suguru. Please don’t hurt them.”

“They have no place in my world.”

“Honey…do you see that? Oh my God, do you see that?”

“Suguru!” You wail.

“But you…” His hands move to cup the sides of your face, and you sob when you hear the first scream. “You do.”

[daycourtofficial]

Secret exchanges

Summary: a few weeks after the aftermath of Rhys’s banishment, your mate, the new High Lord of the Autumn Court, has a secret meeting with someone from your family.

Author’s note: this is set pretty soon after I am ash from your fire ☺️

Warnings: furthering my sexy Eris agenda by letting him be a smidge cunty

Word count: ~1k

“Shadowsinger.”

“High Lord.”

The titles were exchanged with tense tones as both males look each other over in hopes of finding a nearly fatal wound they could exploit. Coming up short of that, the two watch each other with uncertain gazes, this meeting marking something new.

The Illyrian steps closer, holding out a box in his scarred hands. The new high lord accepts the parcel, looking inside to ensure everything is accounted for. Underneath the lid, the box contains six beautifully decorated mint chocolate cupcakes from the bakery you adore that’s nestled in the heart of Velaris.

“Are condolences in order?”

Eris sneers at Azriel’s taunting tone, snapping the lid to the cupcakes, “only to the foolish noblemen my father made rich. It feels as if everyone in Autumn can breathe properly now that a foul stench has dissipated.”

Males of lesser intelligence could have pieced together the timeline between Rhys banishing you from Night and Eris assassinating Beron within a 24 hour span. Despite his feelings for the red head before him, Azriel was impressed at how swiftly he took the reins.

Azriel inspects the male before him, somehow standing taller than he had previously seen, as if the weight of the world were lifted from his shoulders. His pale skin glowed in the sunlight passing through the trees, and he looked as if the Earth had molded him herself. He almost glowed beneath his skin, as if his veins crackled with pure fire.

Azriel knew Rhys was blowing things out of proportion by banishing you, and Azriel, along with the rest of the inner circle, had no idea how to help you or to let you know that they didn’t care.

Well, they did care. They cared a lot. He and Cassian alone spent several hours sparring trying to work through their rage at the Cauldron’s choice of mate for you.

They weren’t thrilled by this situation, but ultimately they understood that this wasn’t your choice, and while it is your choice now, Azriel of all people couldn’t hate you for trying to make your mating bond work.

He wanted to hate you, though. When he was first told of your banishment, he wanted to destroy your room, destroy any and all memories of this betrayal. He spent days in a fog, running through his meticulous backlog of scheduling to figure out when and how such a ‘relationship’ had occurred.

He had finally left his room in a rage and was on his way to your room when he ran into Nesta, where she practically dragged Azriel by his ear to the training ring. She forced Azriel to spar with her, forcing him to talk about why it hurt so badly.

It would be easy for him to write off your banishment as the right thing to do under the guise of his hatred for Eris. But the real truth, settled deep, deep down in his bones, was that you were the only other member of the family who wasn’t paired off.

He felt less alone when you were around. Not that he had any inclinations towards you. It just didn't feel as crushing with someone else to share the burden. Now with you being gone, albeit not of your own accord, he felt that loneliness seep back in, that deep desire for someone to love him wholly.

But now you’re off, banished not only from your court, but from your family. Rhys had commanded all of them to cease any contact with you directly.

Technically Eris was a workaround.

Azriel could never deny you, especially not when it came to your obsession with the cupcakes he just handed to Eris, the two of you sneaking off on several occasions to satisfy the sweet tooth you shared.

Despite every part of screaming to do so, he couldn’t deny your mate when he came to the shadowsinger, asking for an olive branch.

Azriel cleared his throat, not wanting to spend anymore time with the newly appointed High Lord, but still needing some update on you, “how is she?”

Eris sighed, mulling over how to answer the shadowsinger. His thoughts went to you, and how you always spoke fondly of Azriel. You’d never keep the truth from Azriel, despite keeping the mating bond from him. You hated not telling anyone in your family, a topic of conversation you and Eris constantly circled back to.

“Coping as you would expect,” the new high lords words making Azriel feel worse than he did before. The shadowsinger’s eyes move to the ground, and in a rare move, decides to extend an olive branch of his own.

For you. He would do this for you.

“I don’t agree with Rhys’s actions.”

Eris raises his eyebrows, “ah, so the dogs can disagree with their master.”

Azriel’s snarl causes Eris’s lip to curl in a smirk, but he holds his hands up in surrendor.

“I never expected you or the other one to ever disagree with him, at least never admitting it to me.”

Hazel eyes meet amber, a mask over his features as he slits his eyes in warning.

“Don’t make me regret disagreeing with Rhys.”

Eris’s expression softens at the Illyrian despite the obvious threat lacing his words. He looks down at his fingers, inspecting his nails as if he can't be bothered to look at Azriel anymore.

“If I ever do anything that would make you regret it, you and the other brutes may come and dispose of me yourselves. The honor would belong to you, if she doesn’t wish to collect.”

Azriel turned to leave, but was stopped by Eris’s voice.

“Before you go,” Azriel turned as Eris procured several sealed envelopes with your handwriting on the front.

“I was instructed to leave these with you.”

Azriel grabs the letters from Eris’s hands, as if he would burn them in front of the Shadowsinger, taunting him further with any contact to you.

In his hands lay several letters, each one addressed to a member of your family except for Rhysand.

Eris’s voice chimes back in, “she wanted to write to him. Couldn’t find the words.”

He shrugs, turning his back on the Shadowsinger as he starts walking back through the orchard, flowers blooming all around them.

“Or perhaps she knew he would skin you alive if you delivered it to him before he was ready.”

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

spellbound: spy

epilogue/bonus ch!

masterlist

you knock on megumi's door, your heartbeat ringing loudly in your ears. you're not sure why you're so nervous. you and him have been dating for a few weeks now, but you can't help it. just the mere idea of him is enough to wake the butterflies in your stomach. It's odd to think of how you used to mistake these feelings for hatred. but you two are beyond that now; that part of your lives is over. megumi opens the door with a grin on his face, and it's off-putting to anyone but you—he can't not smile around you anymore.

"hey megs-"

your sentence is interrupted by him cupping your face and fervently locking his lips with yours. kissing you as hungrily and urgently, if not even more, as he did the night you confessed. you push him off of you.

"jeez, can you at least let me say hi first, stalker?"

"sorry," he says flippantly, not actually sorry at all, as his face flushes bright pink.

"so what's on the agenda today?" you ask as you walk past him into his house. "some more horror movies, maybe-"

megumi stops you in your tracks by grabbing you by your waist, his arms wrapping around you, and drawing you into him, your back flush against his chest. "are you gonna kiss me back yet? you already said hi."

"you're awfully affectionate today, megs." you swivel around in his hold to face him, pushing a few strands of his hair out of his face as you entreat, "let me guess yuji and nobara aren't home?"

megumi sheepishly averts his attention to the floor.

"knew it. I have to practically fight you just to get a kiss when they're here."

"it's embarrassing..."

you gawk, feigning offense. "oh, so loving me is embarrassing?"

his gaze snaps back to your face, worried you're serious, but when he sees the shit-eating grin you're adorning, megumi rolls his eyes. "ok, you know what I meant. stop it."

"I know," you say cheerfully, before finally leaning in and giving him what he wants—sort of. you purposely pull away the moment you feel him melt into and deepen the kiss.

"now chop chop, these movies won't watch themselves!"

"I hate you."

"oh, I'm sure you do, stalker."

☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆

Inumaki, nobara, and yuji are all giggling like crazy as maki unlocks the door, while yuuta attempts to shush them, considering it’s late and they are trying to be stealthy here.

with the door now unlocked, maki doesn’t open it; instead, she turns around and scolds, “can you guys shut up?”

“oh, cmon, babe, aren’t you excited? we’re about to catch megumi and y/n being all lovey-dovey!” nobara pouts, suddenly hanging onto her girlfriend's arm like a koala.

"well, we’re not gonna catch anyone if you guys don’t be quiet,” yuuta quips under his breath.

maki nods. "thank you, yuuta.”

"you guys are no fun, oh my god,” Inumaki says through a quiet groan.

“for real!” yuji exclaims, slightly exasperated. “we didn’t suffer through weeks of them being insufferable just for us to never see them happy together!”

“do you think maybe this is why,” maki says, unimpressed.

“maki, my love, shut up,” nobara gruffs before placing a chaste kiss on maki’s cheek. "you're literally an accomplice right now, so don’t pretend you’re not trying to catch them being losers either... now open the door, cmon we’re wasting time!”

"yeah, megumi has probably already sensed our presence by now,“ yuji whines.

yuuta’s brows knit together, looking and sounding slightly concerned as he asks, “what?”

yuji shrugs nonchalantly. "yeah, I don't know; he has like a sixth sense.”

maki rolls her eyes. “or maybe it’s because you guys aren't discreet at all.”

“oh my fucking god, maki, just open the damn door,” Inumaki snaps. “all this yapping, and for what?”

nobara nods. “yeah, babe, listen to Inumaki.”

“dear lord, help us all,” maki murmurs quietly as she turns back toward the door.

the three of them are all attempting to control their giggles as maki and yuuta eye each other. yuuta merely shrugs, and maki sighs before quietly opening the front door. Immediately, it’s dark; the only light coming in is the porch light from the front door.

“are they not home?” yuji asks through a whisper, squinting as if that will speed up his eyes adjustment to the darkness.

nobara frowns. “they have to be; they said they would!”

“fuck, maybe they found us out,” Inumaki adds.

maki suggests blankly, “have we considered turning on a light yet, maybe.” 

yuuta walks toward the light switch, mumbling, "I'll do it.”

It takes a minute for everyone's eyes to adjust, but once they do, everyone goes wide-eyed at the scene in front of them. you and megumi are asleep on the couch. you’re on top of him, lying on his chest, and buried in his arms. small content smiles on both of your faces.

yuji chokes back a squeal. “no way, no way, no way!!”

“oh my god, maki, hold me; I'm gonna collapse,” nobara quickly says before throwing herself into her girlfriend's arms.

maki stumbles slightly as she mutters, "I might collapse too; this is sickening.”

yuuta can’t help but smile. "aw, wait, this is so cute."

“right?” Inumaki instantly agrees. “look at them cuddling asleep, oh my god," he pauses momentarily. "I suddenly have the urge to kick y/n.”

maki’s glare practically burns holes into Inumaki. "don't you dare.”

"If you touch me, I'll kill you.”

everyone’s head snaps toward you, slightly startled from not expecting you to say anything considering you were asleep—or at least they thought you were.

“oh my god, haha!" Inumaki laughs nervously. “heyyy, we were just talking about you.”

you roll your eyes and slowly lift your head to look at all of them, before gently resting your chin back down on megumi’s chest. “you guys are so loud; maybe work on that next time you wanna spy on us.”

“we tried telling them to be quiet,” yuuta explains.

maki adds, “they don’t know what that is.”

you scoff, “clearly.”

“Is megs awake?” yuji asks.

“nope,” you say, quickly glancing at megumi, who’s still sound asleep. “you think I'd still be on his chest right now if he were?”

nobara half-shrugs in agreement. “you’re right, he’d go into cardiac arrest... shy ass bitch.”

you can't help but snort, which you immediately regret because megumi stirs awake.

“who are you talking to?” he slurs with his eyes still closed.

"shh, no one, go back to sleep,” you coo.

megumi’s face scrunches up, evidently suspicious, and the moment you see his eyes begin to open, you slap your hands over them.

“y/n, stop covering my eyes.”

"I don't know what you’re talking about.”

you barely have a second to process what's happening before megumi sits up, your hands dropping off his face as you grab onto his shirt to save yourself from falling. he also wraps his arms around your waist to help. now sitting up, with you in his lap, he looks around and finds the rest of the group smiling like idiots at the whole ordeal. megumi flushes deep red as he turns to look back at you, who’s smiling menacingly.

he gulps, not liking the way you’re looking at him. “y/n…”

although you’re already on his lap and in his arms, the force with which you slam yourself against him pushes him back down onto the couch, and now back in your original positions, you smother kisses all over his face. megumi somehow flushes an even darker red as he attempts to push you off him in embarrassment, and his embarrassment only grows worse when he can hear yuuta, yuji, Inumaki, and nobara either cooing or laughing while maki is pretending to gag.

"I thought you didn’t hate me anymore,” megumi asks through a pout, still attempting to evade your kisses.

"I don't,” you say before pressing your lips against his.

megumi kisses you back and uses the opportunity to snake his hands up and grab your face, pulling it away from his and effectively stopping you from kissing him anymore. “then why are you torturing me like this.”

you simply smile. “cause you're cute when you get all embarrassed.”

megumi pushes you off of him and onto the couch as he stands up, scoffing, “fuck off.”

you laugh as you sit up properly. "you wound me, stalker; I can feel my soulmate mark fading as we speak.”

megumi looks down at you blankly. “you're literally not funny. like at all.”

nobara seems to suddenly appear out of thin air by megumi’s side, slinging her arm over his shoulders as she coos, “and everyone booed when I said me and y/n would marry into the same family.”

maki rolls her eyes and pulls her girlfriend off megumi. “neither of us are married, nobara.”

“yet…”

megumi rolls his eyes. “shut up, nobara.”

yuji, who has just been enjoying recording the bickering between you and megumi up until now, lifts his head from his phone. “hey megs?”

“what?”

"have you told gojo anything? cause like he's asking me how you are, and I don't wanna spill the beans…”

"wow, you're closing your fat ass mouth for once?”

you don't hesitate to kick megumi in the shins for that and scold him through clenched teeth, telling him to be nice.

yuji is unphased. "don't play with me right now. your life is in my hands.”

megumi clears his throat. "...I'll text him.”

-ok ignore that i accidentally posted this last night coughs.

-ANYWAY YIPPEE BONUS CH!

-do nawt ask me what happens when gojo gets there bc idk! megumi explodes probably !

-sorry the layout is so weird i wouldnt have been able to include gojo's messages in here had i screenshotted the written part like i usually do but i rlly wanted to add papa gojo!!

-ANYWAY LOVE U KITTENS MWAH MWAH ! I HOPE U GUYS LIKED THIS SORRY ITS LIKE LOWKEY UNDERWHELMING AND BAD LOLZ

LINK TO A MASTERLIST OF HELP LINKS FOR PALESTINE, CONGO, AND SUDAN

taglist!🦂 (under the cut)

@bloombb @kasumitenbaz @basically-an-anime-stan-acct @deegausserr @theholypeanut @iluv-ace @sad-darksoul @secretanimesimp @satforsatoru @bbysatoruuu @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @1l-ynn @lu-spizzeria @nymphsdomain @babydoll-143 @zellwa @k4romis @ynverse @r0ckst4rjk @chilichopsticks @ryoiii @nnnyxie @st1rvoid @pastatata @morgyyyyyyy @venusinx @lees-chaotic-brain @nishii28 @meguemii @honeyfewr @nobody289x @afatalheat @hopeladybug @becsmarvel @bakugouswh0r3 @enigmaticnephilim @nanamiswifes @you-always-made-me-blush @everythingseasoning @jayathelostdragon @tranzumaki @saesofficialwife @delulusuga @tar0sw0rld @hexrts-anatomy @camilo-uwu @revrse @tanchosanke @ashfrommyfire @liveincans @gyuville @fushigurosdevinedogs @zamorazz @amenial

[stariekis]

red tinted marks

🛋️ pairing : 엔하이픈 ot7 + gn!reader . genre : fluff . cw : tons of kisses ~

— synopsis : pretty boys covered in pretty kissy marks.

— notes : © idea from my own post ! it was supposed to be a jake one shot but i loved the idea way too much so ot7 version it is ~ hope you like it pls reposts and feedback are very much welcome ⭐. thank you for reading <3

heeseung :

oh he would be down as soon as your petition left your lips ... even though he seems like the type of guy who hates doing those "cheesy" trends he is way too down bad for you that he won't be able to say no. so there you are, leaving kiss marks on your boyfriend's face while he looks at you with the biggest eyes ever, admiring your features everytime you pulled away with a smirk on his face.

jay :

he would be more than happy, as soon as his girl is happy of course. when he sees you all excited with your red lipstick on, he couldn't say no and it was also a pretty cute idea he thought. you focused on his jawline, your favorite feature of him, going up to his cheeks and also leaving little pecks on his lips making him giggle a bit. moments like this are very precious to him, nothing better than spending time with his favorite girl.

jake :

puppy ikeu agenda is back ~ as i said in my post he would be the one asking you to do it, showing you the video and begging on his knees to recreate it ) : as soon as you said yes he was running to your room to grab one of your lipstick. grabbing your face in his hands he applied the red tint on you lips while biting his lower lip trying to contain his excitement. once you were ready he sat down and closed his eyes, letting out giggles everytime your lips brushed against his features. he was living a dream, feeling the happiest man alive.

sunghoon :

he would act roughly all the time, lips pressed into a thin line as you leave kisses all over his pretty face. in reality he was enjoying more than ever, goosebumps going up and down his body every time your lips touch his face. as the teaser he is he would turn his head to the side capturing you lips and kissing you softly, now his lips are also tinted in a reddish tone.

sunoo :

he wants to leave kisses on your face too!!! when you showed him some videos of couples doing that trend he told you that he wants to do that to you too 'you would look adorable baby please ~ ' he said begging you, and who are you to decline such a thing? so at the end both of you would have your faces covered in red kiss marks and his gallery full of pictures and videos of you both together.

jungwon :

giggling wonie is all i can think about. he would be giggling the whole time with his eyes closed focusing on the feeling of your lips all over his features. he would let you take tons of pictures of him right after so you can use one as your wallpaper. he would look so cute, his eyes shining, his natural bushy cheeks and his pretty features covered in kiss marks.

ni-ki :

he is a softie ) : he might be a little hesitant at first but he was actually waiting for you to ask him to do it. he played cool as if he wasn't the happiest boy ever at that moment. after leaving the first peck on his cheek his boxy smile would appear instantly, breaking his character completely. his hands resting on you hips and your trapping his face 'babe that tickles' he said, moving back a bit and letting out a soft laugh when he saw your lipstick all smeared.

[luvjunie]

— when the dam breaks

contains: third person pov (42!miles’), no reader, feelings of anxiety, some harsh language, use of the n-word once, a one-sided fight, angst, mentions of grief, brief comfort at the end

summary: miles was holding himself together just fine, until he wasn’t. wc: 2,748

a/n: this fic is based on one of my headcanons from this post,(the 12th one). handling the grief of losing a parent is one of the hardest, most painful things to navigate, especially when you’re a teen and in school. i can directly relate to miles!42 because of this, which is probably why i’m able to go so in depth with his character. i’m really proud of how this turned out so i hope you guys enjoy reading <3

The back of Ms. Bellam’s history class was Miles’ favorite spot to sit in. The seat by the window, specifically. Where he could gaze out with the fantasy of being anywhere else but stuck listening to the lecture in his fifth block; forced to hear his teacher rave on about some old expedition he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about.

But today, Miles was not in the back of the class.

He had a bad feeling the moment the bell rung and the projector powered on to display the newest assignment the tall, stocky woman had on the agenda; a partnered project. Which, unfortunately, meant a new seating chart was on the horizon.

Miles must’ve spaced out during the introduction of the assignment, but his teacher’s assertive voice brought him back to the very moment he was dreading.

“Cody, you’re paired with—“ Ms. Bellam pulled a small slip of paper out from a little bucket of randomized names on her desk. “—Lauren.”

She ignored the quiet groan she got after unknowingly pairing two exes together and drew two more names. “Bailey, you’re with Lucas.”

“Sarah, you’re with… Faith. And Miles,” The brunette-haired teacher stuck her hand into the bucket once more to pull out the very last slip of paper, and read it with finality. “You’re with Gabby.”

Miles lifted his head and did a quick scan of the faces around, until he met the eyes of his new partner, Gabby, who gave him a small wave from the front of the class. His jaw clenched at the realization that he’d have to give up his safe corner, since the seats around him were filled, while the one next to her was open.

“Alright everyone, if you’re not already next to your partner, go find them.”

With an inaudible grumble and something along the lines of ‘i hate this fucking class’ and a mix of ‘kill me now’— Miles rose from his chair, snatched his backpack up with a little too much force, and crossed the classroom to plop down defeatedly next to the girl he was paired with.

Chin tucked in his hand and eyes glued to the ticking clock above the white board, he didn’t know how long he sat like that, or how much valuable information he’d missed while he ignored the overly peppy, thirty-year old’s directions to the class. But he did know that the minute hand on that damn analog device wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking. The droning of voices overlapping and the bouncing of ideas filled the once silent air after instructions had been given, but Miles was far from focused on the task at hand.

The incessant tapping of his pencil against the hard plastic of his desk, matched with the clearly agitated bounce of his leg had his partner stealing experimental glances in his direction— her lips having been licked ample times from the stress of debating on whether to make the difficult decision of speaking to the boy who was clearly not interested in conversation— or even being here at all.

She spoke up anyway. “Um… So most of the other groups have pretty much chosen already. That means we’re left with James Cook, Vasco de Gama, Ferdinand Magellan, or—“

“You can pick for us. I don’t really care which one.” Miles interrupted.

“Oh—“ Gabby blinked. His response was curt, but at least she got one. “Okay then, Ferdinand Magellan.” Flipping through the rubric that had been passed out at some point, she referred to the second page with her index finger. “It says our presentation has to be between six to eight slides, which includes the works cited for our research. So we could do one introduction slide, and maybe about,” she paused to think. “Four?— information slides? And then we could add some fun facts and trivia questions at the end so we can get our class participation points in without too much effort. That cool with you?”

Gabby was a nice girl. She never bothered him, never looked at him weird when he’d come into class late sometimes, and had actually ran through the hallway to return the notebook that fell out of his open backpack just last week. He wasn’t aggravated at her, but more so at the fact that everybody could stare at the back of his head now instead of the other way around, like it was before. It made him self conscious about everything, even down to the way he was sitting in his chair. He could feel a few beams on his back right about now, and adjusted his position slightly.

Miles sighed and reminded himself to respond to her politely. “Uh-huh. Sounds good.”

A voice to his left behind him caught his attention, the voice in question belonging to one of the most obnoxious boys he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing— Ethan Thompson. Someone who always had too much to say and nothing productive or appropriate to add— it usually being something creepy or gross about a girl he wanted to ‘get to know’.

Miles would’ve tuned him out, like he always did, but this time it was impossible. Probably because out of all the conversations regarding the explorers meant to be researched, this one had absolutely nothing to do with history, or even school for that matter.

“Bro, did you hear about what happened to…”

Miles strained to hear as best as he could without moving from his seat, though it was a struggle since Gabby was still talking his ear off to the right of him about who would do what when it came to their workload.

“Miles?”

He ignored her as another voice chimed in, and his back stiffened.

“I know dude, my sister told me about it. Said he was killed in action or somethin’ like that… I just know his mom is crushed. I feel really bad.”

Miles knew people talked about this, he wasn’t dumb. But damn, did they have to do it when he was right there?

Then, there was a laugh.

Miles was confused. He didn’t find anything regarding the topic of their conversation even remotely comical.

“Fuck that,” Ethan quieted his voice, though not quiet enough. “That just means Mrs. Morales is single and up for grabs now.”

It took less than a second for Miles’ blood to simmer to a scalding boil. He held a subtle finger up and quieted Gabby, who was currently asking him about what they should research first.

“Can you give me just… one second?” he asked gently.

Gabby’s words died on her tongue and she gave a muddled nod.

Miles threw his elbow over the back of his chair when his torso whipped around, his eyes glazed with enmity and immediately catching Ethan’s.

“The fuck you just say?”

Ethan froze.

Miles’ tone was lethal, rage lifting the volume above the blurred chattering around, venom spitting from his tongue like he intended to kill the boy with words alone. The speed in which the class fell silent would’ve been humorous had there not been such hostility within the air.

“Miles, language!” Ms. Bellam’s eyes snapped up from her computer screen, her face a picture of disbelief at his unusual vitriol. He was always quiet as a mouse in her class, well behaved above all.

Jaws hung slack, the gazes of the students around darted back and forth between the two boys continuously, the tension in the room palpable.

Miles sat up straighter in his seat, jaw clenched and his patience dwindling. To say he was seething would be a dangerous understatement.

“Nah, nah Ms. B,” His head cocked, and his eyes narrowed at Ethan, ruinously. “I wanna know what this nigga just said ‘bout my fuckin’ mom.”

“Oh shit…” Gabby gulped. Today was the most she’d heard Miles speak in class almost the entire semester.

“It was a joke, bro.” Ethan huffed a chuckle, a nervous thing that his friend easily picked up on. Miles was not one to bluff, and Ethan was notorious for taking things too far.

“Don’t bro me, repeat that dumb shit you just said and watch how fast I knock your ass out.” Miles gritted through his teeth, hot air puffing through his nostrils like a bull who’d just seen red.

“Boys, enough!” Ms. Bellman was standing now, hands planted to her desk as she watched with bated breath, just like the rest of the class-now-turned-audience.

Ethan shrugged, and Miles swore he felt his eye twitch.

Strike one.

Then, the boy playfully nudged his friend’s arm with a cocky smirk, as if he thought the threat he’d just received wasn’t one that would be carried out.

Strike two.

“He’s baiting you, Miles…” Gabby whispered dejectedly, in warning, only so Miles could hear. But his tunnel vision had already set in.

“Go ‘head. Repeat yourself.” Miles demanded.

Nails digging into the skin of his palms hard enough to leave crescents in their wake, there was a voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he could get into serious trouble if he didn’t get his emotions in check, fast. He’d progressed so quickly in his after school M.M.A classes, that now, even getting into a simple fist fight could land him a serious assault charge. A judge would take one look at the history of his intense training, and the option to deem his hands as deadly weapons in the case would immediately be presented, and most likely acted upon.

Knocking the teeth out of a rich white boy would never be the smart decision here, especially not for someone who looked the way he did.

He’d be sent straight to juvie.

“I mean, all I was sayin’ is, technically—“ Ethan threw his hands up in a careless manner. “If I play my cards right, I could be your future step-daddy.”

Strike three.

Ms. Bellam was yelling now. “Ethan, principal’s office, now!”

And that probably would’ve been the better option, had he actually had a choice.

Miles’ movements were swift when he shot out of his seat, and the students in his way followed suit with yelps and gasps as they quickly removed themselves from the area. The desks blocking his pathway to pummeling the shit out of this kid loudly screeched against the school’s tile when they were shoved out of the way, and the one he’d mindlessly flipped over in his stampede proceeded to erupt the room into pure pandemonium.

One punch would’ve been good enough, Miles knew that. But in this moment, thinking rationally was so far out of his reach he would’ve missed it even if he’d jumped for it. He’d swung a closed fist to Ethan’s jaw and knocked him to the floor with ease, then followed him down, sat on his chest and had the boy’s arms pinned under his knees so he couldn’t protect his snobby-ass face. One punch would’ve been good enough, but just two vehement blows later, the satisfying crack of a bone that wasn’t his under Miles’ knuckles had him sending a few more into the reddened face of the boy beneath him, just to really get his point across.

“Jesus Christ— Miles!” Ms. Bellman scrambled from her seat in a panic and rushed to fling the classroom’s door open, her desperate yells directed to anyone who might’ve been strolling the hallways. “We need security in here! You-!” She pointed to a student with a bathroom pass. “Go get security, and tell them to come to room 205, now! Go!”

Everyone was yelling at once, but Miles couldn’t hear anything other than the ringing of rage in his ears. Anger is only grief turned sour— a terribly perilous thing to leave untreated.

Some of his classmates were frozen with shock, or fear, maybe— hands clasped over their gaped mouths while others had their phones out with the camera app open—vampires for some good drama while they hooted and hollered at the most exciting thing they’d seen this entire year.

“That’s enough!”

Strong arms suddenly hooked under Miles’ armpits and prevented his fist from worsening the damage already done. Two male teachers from neighboring classrooms had rushed in and yanked him up and off Ethan, his hips bucking as he kicked his way up onto his feet. Miles’ chest expanded and collapsed with the weight of his heaving breaths, face flushed with the remnants of his lost temper as he directed his attention to Ethan’s friend, who looked like a deer in headlights.

“When your boy wake up, tell him watch his mouth next time!”

Miles didn’t know why he was yelling. It was common knowledge that it’s pretty rare for someone who’s unconscious to understand what you’re saying to them.

He didn’t struggle when the two teachers dragged him away, but when they shoved him out the door and into the hall with more force than he thought necessary, he snatched his arms away from their grasp with a rolled shrug, and huffed a frustrated grunt about how he knew how to walk on his own.

—

The drive home was eerily silent. The radio hadn’t been touched, and neither had Miles by his mother’s gaze the moment they’d left the principal’s office after he received his verdict.

Out of school suspension. One week.

It was the best the administrative staff could do after Rio swallowed her pride and went as low as begging them not to expel her boy.

Slumped in the passenger seat with his hands in his lap, Miles didn’t bother to look at the bruises he knew were forming on his knuckles. It was a familiar feeling, and at the moment he was more concerned with why it felt like his throat had been stuffed with cotton when he tried to talk.

“Mamá, I—“

“Do not. Speak.” Rio’s breath wavered, her hands clutching the wheel so hard she thought she’d crush it. She tried not to let her voice break. “Not one word.”

Silence.

—

It all settled in as they climbed the stairwell, the images of what just happened flashing back in his mind every time he blinked; what he’d done playing over and over again in a continuous loop. The wooden railings creaked under the weight of his mother’s hand, and as she knowingly skipped the one that had weakened over the years, he knew the home that held every single emotion he tried to leave behind when he went to school was now just a few steps up.

Rio’s key twisted in the lock before she opened the door, and Miles followed behind her, shoulders slouched dispiritedly. He resembled something of a stray puppy; desperate for attention, but acceptant and grateful that it, as much of a nuisance as it may be, was being tolerated enough to stay on it’s finder’s heels.

He thought being scolded by his mother was bad, but the lack thereof was even worse. Her brows were clenched, and her conflicted yet somehow blank expression told him that she truly did not have any words for him as she leaned on the kitchen counter, hands clasped firmly around the edge so tightly her knuckles paled. She didn’t even know where to start, and Miles didn’t blame her. He refused to explain why he’d snapped when it was asked of him. When his mother’s widened eyes had pleaded with him to tell the principal what happened in that classroom that set him off in such a way, he didn’t. He had no reason not to, at least one he could think of right now, but his voice just wouldn’t allow it. Both in that office, and now in their kitchen, dimly lit by the warm light above the stove, the weight of his mother’s disappointment clung to the suffocating silence, like a fish to a hook and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mamá, I’m sorry.” He whispered in a quick breath, the lump in his throat painful when he swallowed it.

“Good money, Miles.” Rio shook her head, a hand coming up to rest over the rise and fall of her chest. “Good money! We paid good money to get you into that school, your dad and I. I work hard to keep you there and you just—“

Dad.

And the dam broke. Though its foundation wasn’t very strong to begin with— Miles’ shoulders crumbled under the weight of his actions and his tears flooded past his waterline with choked sobs that left no room for air.

Whatever Rio was going to say had been forgotten. The sight of her son sobbing in a way she hadn’t seen since the night they’d received the news immediately put a stop to her reprimanding. Now, she was truly worried.

“Oh Miles, come come come,” She hastily tugged him into a hug and wrapped him firmly in her arms, her hands repeatedly rubbing up and down the expanse of his back. “¿Qué es Mijo? (what is it, son?) Talk to me. No te lo guardes, ¿recuerda?” (no holding it in, remember?)

Miles could barely catch his breath, and somehow talking about it was just as painful as the ache that resided deep in his chest.

“I—It was Dad, it was about—“ a quick breath in split his sentence in half. “About Dad. He was—talking about what ha—happened and I—“ Miles tried for another, but it caught in his throat, ragged and choppy and had his ribcage stuttering from the lousy attempt to cease his hyperventilating. The fact that he couldn’t get his words out uninterrupted only frustrated him more; only made him cry harder. He scrubbed at his tears with the back of his hand, but it was no use. He couldn’t stop crying. Why couldn’t he stop crying?

“He said—“ Another wilted inhale, and a hiccup. “It was abo—about you, and it was terrible and I— I just, I got so angry, and I tried Mamá, I did. But I couldn’t and—and then I was on him and I’m sorry—“

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Rio used a hand to bring his head into her shoulder, his cries muffled and his tears wetting the sleeve of her blouse as his rambling came to a halt. Miles clutched onto her tightly, arms round her waist as he fell apart in front of the woman who’d tried her best to piece him back together.

“Respira, Mijo, respira… (breathe).” Rio whispered. “Please.” Seeing her son so distraught had brought on tears of her own, but she shut her eyes, and tucked away her own feelings so she could focus on his. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

“But you’re mad at me, I don’t want you to be mad at me—“

Rio shook her head and tutted at him. “I’m not mad at you, papa. I understand. Okay? I’m not angry. No.” She couldn’t be upset with him for something like this, not when he could barely shelter himself from his own guilt.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Miles was inconsolable as Rio continued rubbing his back, and her voice shook when she spoke, but she kept the uncertainty she held within her heart concealed from her promise to him.

“We’re going to be okay.”

[apocalypse-shuffle]

HOBIE BROWN | SPIDER-PUNK (atsv)

─────────────────

─────────────────

“Brand New Metal” (Hobie Brown & Fem!Reader)

| Hobie helps you pierce your nose.

| SFW, piercing description, needles

| Featuring almost the entirety of my own piercing experience. (Pic source: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) movie)

You pull away for what feels like the hundredth time in five minutes and Hobie’s hand moves outta the way even faster, barely a blur of movement before it’s back within his bubble of space.

“C’mon, Mama, I can’t do this if you keep jumpin’ away from me.”

You shift in place where your butt is planted beside the hard water stained sink. Shoulders dropping you rub your hands down your face.

“I know that,” you grumble.

Problem was, knowing barely qualified as a quarter of the issue, and whoever said knowing was half the battle clearly hadn’t been staring down the point of the thickest needle you’d ever seen in person.

You wave your hand to the metal rod with a grimace. “But look at the size of that thing, Hobes. That’s gotta be overkill.”

Hobie’s accent seems to get thicker as he hits you with a deadpan tone, full brows shading his eyes.

“This’s a twenty gauge needle. I’ve seen you ’old your guts inside you and still make time to bash in some fascists, this’s nothin’.”

In response you flip him off but Hobie - perfectly unfazed - only starts twirling the needle around two latex glad fingers.

His own piercings - of which there were plenty - glint off of the dim yellow lighting of his bathroom like a taunt. Or at least it feels like that to you.

“Look, I already told you piercings ain’t some crucial part of the scene, Mama. You don’t have ta do any of this. It’s all just boxes and labels, the lot of it,” Hobie points the blunt side of the needle at you. “And you know I hate labels.”

“Yeah, Hobes, the whole of Camden knows. Besides, I want it cause I think it looks nice not cause of capitalism’s agenda to make us buy shit instead of looking at whatever human right of the day they’re doing away with,” you shrug and Hobie’s mouth twists to the side for a second before he’s shrugging too.

“Great. Point’s been made then. Pick a struggle.”

“Fuck your struggle,” you frown. “It’ll hurt.”

“Hn,” he scoffs and shakes his head. He’s giving you this narrow look like he’d let you keep this back and forth up for the rest of the day without any complaints though. “Fake ones exist for a reason.”

“Fake ones won’t give me the satisfaction of a real piercing though.”

“The lie that we need to feel pain in order to be worthy of livin’ is also capitalistic propaganda, Luv.”

Now it’s your turn to give him a look; face dropping and one brow rising.

Hobie chuckles.

“Fine.” He grins, sharp. “We both know I know exactly what it is you’re sayin’. I just can’t tell if being an accomplice to yer masochism is fair to me.”

“You wouldn’t deny a woman her creative outlet, would you?”

“S’pose not,” Hobie agrees, taking another alcohol swab and disinfecting the needle again for extra measure.

He eyes you up and down and you smile, fluttering your lashes at him and kicking your heels into his cabinet doors. You needed Hobie to be the one to do this. For one, because you were not going to be able to do this yourself, and for two, because he was really the only person you trusted to puncture a literal hole in your body.

You take a deep breath, now if only you could chill the hell out.

Hobie shakes his head, wicks flopping around and knocking into each other languidly.

“Yer one ‘elluva reluctant participant to this for someone agreein’ they’re a masochist,” he nods to the needle while brandishing it like a knife. He knows you're full of shit, but he’s not about to make your decision for you. “You gotta stop flinching every time light just glints off the needle if you really want this.”

You lock eyes with him, sitting up to your full height and trying not to back away from the metal rod. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the adrenaline rush to kick in.”

“Pretty sure that happens after the pain, yeh?

A huff and your fingers curl over the edge of the counter and squeeze.

“Just…get it over with, Hobie.” You take a deep breath. “Please?”

“Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Hobie eases a hand around your jaw and raises the needle. “You know I’ve got you. Now keep still.”

Another deep breath from you and Hobie meets your eye for a second time.

“On three,” he grunts. With your head in his grasp you can’t physically nod so you use your eyes to convey your agreement.

Hobie takes a breath to start the countdown and you inhale with him. You’ve gotten your ears pierced before, you could do this. It was fine. Plus you’ll have a few seconds to prep yourself before he gets to number three. You got this. You both exhale.

“Three,” he states.

Without a second to spare the needle pierces through the squishy cartilage of your nose and your breath catches in your throat. Instantly tears well in your eyes and your face heats up something fierce - like somebody’s holding a blow dryer on the highest setting up to it with zero mercy. Your joints pop, grasp on the counter growing tighter in your attempt to keep yourself from jerking out of Hobie’s hold. The sheer need to not garner an actual injury from the metal is almost solely what keeps you in place.

This wasn’t like an ear piercing at fucking all. Fuck this septum piercing and fuck Hobie too. What the fuck?

“Ow! You motherfucker!”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I only wrote his accent clearly some of the time; you’ll have to forgive me. I was confusing my damn self, okay? I did my best.

Also what I said about how adrenaline works isn’t really correct so don’t take that as gospel.

Edit: Had this labeled gn!reader on accident at first y’all, that’s my bad. Sorry for any confusion.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

[boba-beom]

₊ ⊹꩜ backrow theatre | CHOI BEOMGYU, KANG TAEHYUN

⟢ sub!beomgyu x switch fem!reader x dom!taehyun

⟢ drabble; smut, little fluff

⟢ going on a date with beomgyu in an empty cinema was a plan from the beginning. what you didn't know was that you were being monitored the whole time, and turns out it wasn't just you and beomgyu wanting to have some fun.

⟢ wc: 1.1k (drabbles never drabble)

⟢ a/n: beomgyu and taehyun. the back row of an empty movie theater. smut. @junniieesbby's req for my event! MDNI. I decided I'll slowly release these drabble reqs from my event during the week days too, I feel like it'd be a lot to post during the weekend :') I received more reqs than I thought! but I am extremely thankful nonetheless! feedback would be appreciated as always ᡣ𐭩

warnings under cut

⟢ petnames;(baby, pretty girl, good boy, etc), sir kink, threesome duh, oral (m. receiving), degradation;(slut), deep throating, exhibitionism, dirty talk, somewhat voyeurism, there's some mxm moments (if you don't like that don't send hate, just don't read), unprotected sex, hair pulling, soft choking, pervy taehyun, spit kink and cum eating. lmk if I missed anything!

giving beomgyu head in the back row of an empty cinema was not part of the agenda your a first date, but you weren't mad about it. and neither was the man moaning like nobody's business. you two were the only ones in the cinema room after all.

"ugh, shit, baby. your mouth feels so good." beomgyu sighs, placing both of his hands on either side of your temples, resisting how fast you're sliding his dick down your throat.

the dim lights only made the view of you on your knees even hotter for your date. your fingers fondle his balls while you try and take him in deeper every now and then, and he loved it indicated by his throaty moan.

in the cinema, each room is under surveillance by a member of staff; monitoring any forbidden activities such as filming the screen or in this instance, someone receiving head at the back row of an empty cinema.

the movie wasn't much of an appeal to most but it was also the first day of the viewing—at the latest time too. the member of staff huffs, adjusting his half-hard dick in under his slacks while watching the way your head bobs up and down between the legs of a man slumping in his seat. but he better do his job.

you kneel back on your legs, fisting beomgyu's cock with both hands painfully slow, twisting your fists as he leans forward to kiss you, moaning into your mouth.

light shines on the both of you, along with a stern voice interrupting.

"excuse me, what do you think you're doing? I'm going to have to kick you guys out-"

"please don't kick us out," you squint to read his name tag, "taehyun."

blinded by his torch shining on the lewd scene of your slick hands over beomgyu's pulsing dick, you manage to see the corner of his lips curve upward.

"why shouldn't I? this is unacceptable and it's public indecency." he retorts, but his growing erection feels otherwise.

"if I let you fuck me will you let us finish and not tell anyone, sir?" you look up at him with your doe eyes, almost whining from the title rolling off of your tongue.

your boldness was good enough to keep you going, beomgyu's cock back in the warmth of your mouth and taehyun's pounding you from behind, also kneeling. the grip of two pairs of hands on your body—your head and your hips—essentially had your mind reeling, another thing added that wasn't on your agenda.

taehyun's thrusts didn't falter, fucking you hard enough until your legs are shaking, him having to hold you up.

"fucking cum, slut." taehyun grunts between clenched teeth.

your moans over beomgyu's cock doesn't help him from hold back his noises, whining your name as he feels his length throbbing against your tongue. that is, until taehyun pushes your head down, taking more of beomgyu until his tip was lodged down your throat and gargling, then pulling at your hair, stopping just when beomgyu's tip remains in your mouth.

the male above you starts grabbing on the arms of the seat, throwing his head back and mouth agape while you're moaning around his tip until he unloads his thick cum in your mouth.

"don't swallow yet, pretty girl." taehyun pants behind you, snapping his hips as he pistons into your throbbing cunt. "c'mere."

you shuffle on your knees, knowing they're bruised but the pain is nonexistent in a situation like this. taehyun sits beside beomgyu and fists his shaft, waiting for you to position yourself between his legs.

you open your mouth slowly, careful not to spill beomgyu's cum from the corners of your lips. after a couple more strokes, taehyun hunches forward, letting out his strangled groans after each pump of his white ribbons spurting out his tip and into your full mouth.

"good girl." he sighs, chest heaving while he caresses your cheek once you close your mouth. but you don't swallow. letting the bitter cum of both men mix over and under your tongue.

taehyun turns to beomgyu, a thought brewing in his head and hoping you'd be quick to catch on. he grabs your date's jaw, delicately squeezing his cheeks.

"open." is all he says, and beomgyu was quick to oblige, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out flat against his bottom lip.

taehyun looks at you, smirking and nodding his head in beomgyu's direction, a subtle smile playing on your lips. you genuinely wouldn't have taken him to be such a freak but he's so hot, and the lust in his eyes while he waits for you to move was enough to realise he was just as freaky.

getting up on your feet, your knees almost buckle as you move to hover over beomgyu, crawling over his lap as your slicked cunt makes contact with his half-hard dick. you look at him below you, whiny and bringing his hands over a loose hold around taehyun's wrist.

leaning over beomgyu's face, you part your lips, slowly letting the mixed substances fall out your mouth and into the male's beneath you. when you felt nothing left in your mouth you press your lips against beomgyu's roughly kissing him and still tasting the cum on against your tongues.

another higher pitched whine rumbles in his chest when he felt the liquids sliding down his tongue and to the back of his throat.

"that's my good boy. now swallow, baby." you coo in his ear and you feel beomgyu's cock jump beneath you, taehyun, too, found that extremely hot.

you didn't take beomgyu to be someone who would eat his own cum, let alone a stranger's, but you'd by lying to yourself if you said that it didn't turn you on.

when beomgyu swallowed the last drop of cum he opened his mouth to show you, tongue sticking out again and taehyun's hand slides down to beomgyu's throat, applying light pressure as he raises off of the seat and spits into the other male's mouth, then nods. beomgyu swallows that too, no hesitancy in sight.

"god, you take anything we give you, don't you?" taehyun chuckles, thumb rubbing beomgyu's bobbing adam's apple.

the movie was coming to an end, the credits just about to appear and the lights gradually brightens up the room while the three of you sort out your clothes and wiping down the collective mess on the seats.

you grab your jacket from your seat, looking around to find taehyun making his way to the exit of the theatre room.

"taehyun!" you call after him, also making your way down the steps to catch up to him.

he turns around, brows cocking up and his hands in his pockets.

"I was wondering," you start sweetly, "could I get your number and we can fuck again?"

he chuckles at your straightforwardness, taking his phone out for you to put your number in his contacts.

"pretty thing, I'd love to. just, not in the theatre again. you're lucky it was just me who saw." he responds firmly, but he has that stupid smirk crawling on his lips again. "and beomgyu?"

you give him a sweet smile.

"you two are hot so.." you trail, "this arrangement good?"

taehyun looks up to where beomgyu was, walking up behind you with his flushed cheeks.

"yeah, this could work." he nods, retrieving his phone from you. "see you around miss."

"see you around, sir."

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

taglist:  @bb-eilish @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman @ahnneyong @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @itaehynz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @yunkiwii @prodsh00ky @https-yeonjun @lovejoshua @aprilisque @ja4hyvn @smutnoullitheorem @seolis-world @jak-ey @my313 (send an ask to be part of the taglist! here's the spreadsheet for reference!)

[jishyucks]

My Boss Followed Me Home for Christmas — pjs

‣ pairing: CEO!park jay x reader

‣ genre: fluff, coworkers-to-something more?, traces of hurt/comfort

‣ wc: 4.0k

‣ summary: Your ability to empathize was a blessing and curse. When you see your boss sitting alone in his office on Christmas Day, you can’t help but invite him to your family party. And when he actually says yes, you’re kind of stuck regretting the offer simply because you’re not sure how this is going to turn out.

‣ warnings: none I don’t think?, implications that Jay doesn’t have the best family (they’re just realllly busy, nothing too bad), reader has a big family, implied that reader is smaller/shorter than Jay

‣ an: 3rd in the True Love Gave to Me Series! I honestly enjoyed writing this so much (hence why it’s way longer than I wanted it to be),, the filipino rly jumped out in this with the big family and the games I’m sorry (>///<) it’s honestly just what I’m more familiar with so it was easier for me to write! Anyways,, ENJOY THIS AND THANKS FOR READING!!

Series Masterlist

It was weird seeing the office so empty. 

You weren’t constantly dodging bodies on the way to your desk, you’re not overstimulated by the sounds of the printers and the ringing phones, and the place did not seem as suffocating as you usually make it out to be. 

But it was only empty because it was Christmas. There was absolutely no one here and you were only here to pick up your work agenda, which made complete sense why the office was so much more appealing. 

You wished it was usually like this. 

Your phone rings the second you reach your desk. When you go to check who was calling you, you find your mother’s contact photo blown up on your screen and you answer it almost right away. 

“Hey mom.”

“Honey, where are you? Are you on the way?” You can hear voices in the background at the other end of the line and you’re guessing your family just arrived at the party.

“I am,” you say, “I just dropped by the office to pick something up. I’m guessing I’ll be there in around fifteen to twenty minutes?” You lean against your desk. You realize your agenda is not sitting on your desk so you figured it was somewhere inside it. 

“Okay, hon,” your mom acknowledges your reply, “Take care on the way here, the roads are slippery.” She says something to someone next to her, and before you can even reply she hangs up. 

You tuck your phone into your jacket pocket and pull your desk cabinet open, immediately finding your agenda on top of everything. You mutter a 'there it is' before you push the cabinet back shut, turning to leave. 

It’s before you leave that you notice the light on at the end of the long hallway to the left of your desk. It was a hallway rather hidden from the main office, so you hadn’t taken notice of it at first, but now that you did take notice, curiosity had gotten the best of you. 

Because who in the world was here on Christmas? 

You’d take a good guess and say it was a caretaker, but you didn’t think any of the caretakers were even paid well enough to be here on a major holiday. So if it wasn’t a caretaker, who was it?

You quietly make your way down the hallway, passing empty offices along the way. Then once you’ve just about reached the seemingly occupied room, you halt and use your neck to peek around the corner. 

A gasp almost audibly leaves your lips when your eyes catch sight of your boss sitting alone at his desk. His brows are furrowed as he stares up at his screen, eyes looking rather intently at whatever he was working on. You can tell that he didn’t expect anyone to catch him at the office, dressed in a simple designer hoodie. 

You hate how one of the first thoughts that enter your mind is how attractive the man looks just sitting there and typing. But you were human, after all. 

“Sir?” 

Jay jumps at your voice, swearing under his breath, “Y-Y/N? What are you doing here?” His cheeks heat up in embarrassment, he makes brief eye contact with you before he avoids it altogether. 

“I was just,” you hold up your agenda, “Picking this up… what are you doing here, sir? Don’t you have any plans for Christmas?” Sure your reply seemed a bit inconsiderate because in the back of your mind you knew not everyone celebrated Christmas or the holidays… but your boss had a mini Christmas tree sitting at the corner of his desk, so you figured he did celebrate the season in some way. 

Jay’s still slightly taken aback, frozen in his seat as he studies the random lines on his computer, “I… don’t.” You watch the way his lips flicker into a frown for a quick second before he plasters a fake smile, “But it’s okay! I have a lot of work to do anyway for Wednesday! Better to catch up befo—”

“Sir, I know I don’t really have a right to say this, but you should take the day off and relax,” you frown. 

Jay is unsure how to reply. He sits in his seat for a few brief moments and his mouth bobs open and closed like a fish. Cause, frankly, how can he reply to that when he wants to do anything but go home to an empty house? Why did it have to be you who had to catch him?

If it were anyone else, they would have left him alone. 

If it were anyone else, it would have been easier to send them off with some dismissive reply he can muster up in his head.

“I don’t really want to go home,” Jay says quietly. It’s so quiet that you almost don’t catch it. But you do. And because you do, you catch the way his lips remain downturned. He just thinks you can’t see it behind the miniature Christmas tree.

You feel a tickling feeling in your chest and without thinking, you ask, “Do you want to come to my family’s Christmas party tonight?” It’s funny because you don’t regret your question (well, just a bit, but that’s beside the point). In fact, a small part of you was actually glad that your mouth had decided to choke the question out before you could hold yourself back. 

Jay gulps. He wasn’t against it, but wouldn’t it be odd for him to come? 

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

You take a step forward so that you can now clearly see him. His eyes were running over the keys of his keyboard over and over, trying to keep himself from looking at you. “You won’t be a bother. My family’s pretty big so there’s a lot of space.”

“It’s really okay, Y/N, I’m fine spending time here.” 

“Sir, I promise you, it’s fine,” you press, “My other family members bring guests all the time and we don’t care.” You take another step forward and now it was harder for Jay to avoid your gaze. 

He’s forced to look up at you and that was his mistake. Jay feels his chest explode with warmth because he now just realized that you were dressed more casually than he was used to. You were wearing a pair of baggy jeans and underneath your long coat, he could see Rudolph printed on your ugly Christmas sweater. He admits to himself that you looked adorable, but to remain professional he keeps that thought at the back of his head. 

“If… if you insist,” Jay replies slowly, unsure whether or not he should turn his computer off 

Your eyes light up, “Well, I’m going there right now. You can follow me to my house.” 

“Right now?” Jay’s hesitant to move, hand frozen on his mouse, “As in right this second?”

The answer was yes. Right that second. 

The next thing Jay knew, he was following you up the stairs of your front porch and he was not even sure how to act. He was a CEO for God’s sake. Why was he nervous about joining you for a Christmas party when he’s always up at the front of a business room speaking? It wasn’t like he was meeting your family as your boyfriend or anything (and it for sure wasn’t because he wanted to make a good impression on your family…). 

“Where are my damn keys…” You’re standing at your front door, wrist-deep and rummaging through your small bag. Jay awkwardly stands behind you, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet like a little kid. 

Before you can even find your keys, the door swings open to reveal a short older woman with a kind smile. Her eyes light up at the sight of you and when she exclaims “Honey! Finally!” Jay immediately figures that the woman is your mom.

“Come in, come in,” she quickly says, “It’s cold out there. Oh! And you must be…?” Your mom leans over to look at Jay who’s unsure whether he should actually move. 

You speak up for him, “Um, mom, this is my bos—”

“I’m Jay,” he interrupts, “I’m–uh–Y/N’s coworker and friend.” 

“His family is–uh–busy for Christmas so I invited him,” you quickly add, “I hope that’s okay with you, mom.” 

You look back at him with a questioning look but he quickly dismisses it, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.” 

“It’s no problem, the more the merrier! And oh, just call me Auntie! There’s really no need for those kinds of formalities,” your mom laughs. Then she looks over at you with a smirk ghosting her lips but she stops herself, “Everyone’s just waiting to eat.” 

You let your mom walk ahead and you stay back, “Sir, what—”

“Y/N, we’re not at work,” Jay points out. And hearing you call him sir was sort of irritating him right now, “It’s… Just call me Jay… besides you invited me into your home right?” Then he repeats what your mom said just moments ago, “No need for those kinds of formalities.”  

You can’t help but laugh, side-eyeing him, “Fine, if you say so, Jay.” 

You lead Jay into the house, and he’s greeted by your family members sprawled out all over the living room and kitchen. When you said your family was big, you weren’t kidding. He had no idea how he was supposed to approach this situation. 

When Jay turns the corner, trailing you closely, he’s met with a room full of people, all dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters like you were. A few of your older relatives were sitting at the dining table chatting about something seemingly interesting. At one corner of the nearby living room, right by the Christmas tree, were kids shaking presents, trying to take good guesses as to what they were receiving this year. And huddled on the couches was a group of young adults around your age—he’d guess they were your cousins—and they were having their own conversation, too. 

And though Jay should be feeling out of place because not only does he not know anyone but you, he wasn’t wearing an ugly Christmas sweater like everyone else was, he simply doesn’t. 

The atmosphere felt welcoming—that was his first impression. And he couldn't have been happier when you started introducing him to everyone, making him genuinely feel welcome.

Your aunts and uncles gazed at him with large eyes, curious about who this boy was despite you clearly introducing him as your friend. And when you brought him to meet your cousins last, you were surprised that Jay easily clicked with your guy cousins. It was like you were seeing a whole different side of your boss, one that proved that he was your age and not the uptight CEO you face at work.

“The dress code for this year was ugly Christmas sweaters,” you say once you both settled with your cousins, “But I’m guessing you already noticed.” Jay sits cross-legged in the empty spot next to you.

Jay nods, “Your family all seem so nice.” 

“I’m glad you think that,” you grin, “I take pride in that, if I’m being honest.” Then you realize that the topic of family might be a bit too sensitive for Jay and you try to change it, “Anyways, after dinner, we play games. You better join.” 

“I’ll try?” Jay questions. You can tell he’s growing more comfortable with the situation, but he’s still trying to keep himself composed. 

“Trying is better than nothing,” you shrug, “But I promise you you’ll have a lot of fun.”

There’s a brief silence between the two of you and Jay has this sudden urge to thank you. Because, well, it made sense in this situation. He could wait ‘till the end, but he was itching to just shower you in thank yous.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“This took me a while to find deep in your dad’s things but I finally found it!” Your mom comes out of nowhere, arms slipping between the two of you to reveal an ugly sweater, “I know your dad had another from years ago!”

“I’m confused,” you say.

“For Jay!” Your mom holds the sweater out for Jay to take, a bright smile stretched across her face. She jokes, “Don’t want you sticking out like a sore thumb in pictures. Why are you wearing black on Christmas, hm?” 

You almost facepalm, seeing your mom treat Jay like he was your boyfriend. Sure, it was great she was trying to make Jay feel even more included, but the gesture seemed so… odd to be doing it with just a friend of yours. You’re hoping that Jay isn’t getting the wrong idea because, frankly, it would be embarrassing if he did.

“Oh… t-thank you auntie…” Jay gulps and you see his eyes flicker toward you. He wonders if you think it was weird for him to take it. But he didn’t want to say no to your mom, not when she went out of her way to find the sweater, “I’ll put it on right now.”

“You better,” your mom jokes one more time before leaving you both and back to your other relatives. 

You watch as Jay goes to take his hoodie off, revealing a white t-shirt. At first glance, you don’t process what’s printed on his shirt, but when he fumbles with the sweater, you realize that it’s an old Christmas shirt from when he was a kid. The text reads Christmas 2010 and the picture is a picture of him and his parents. You figured that the shirt was probably his dad's.

You smile sadly, eyeing the shirt as he throws on the sweater. You don’t notice, but the corners of Jay’s lips lift upward into a small, subtle smile. He looks up at you, “How does it look?”

“It looks good,” you say, “A little bit big, but it’s fine.” You can see the way the sleeves bunch up at Jay’s wrists. He looked rather adorable in the sweater (and again, you don’t say anything).

The games began soon after it was established that everyone was finished digesting their food. 

One of your older cousins, who had planned the games, started the games with the kids first. You secretly knew it was just a tactic to get them tired for later, hoping that they’d settle while the adults and older kids played their own games.

Then when that was done and over with, she moved on to the first game that you and Jay could participate in—the island game. The premise of the game was to step onto a sheet of gift wrapping paper and, along with a partner, fold and manipulate it so that they both could stand on it without touching the floor. 

“We need six groups of two!” 

Two by two, you watch your cousins as they group together, stepping up to get the secret prize sitting in a gift bag. 

“You two should join!” your mom urges, “What fun is it just watching? Jay, you must be clever right? Go try!”

Afraid to say no to your mom, Jay turns to you, “I’ll do it if you do it… you said it’d be fun, right?”

You hesitate for a quick moment. Yes, the games were fun, but you were talking about the relays or the simple, single-player games. You weren’t sure if you wanted to play with Jay, simply because it involved having to get all up close and personal with your partner. 

You look around and notice that a handful of your family members are waiting for you and Jay to join, and that pressure is something you can’t take. You nod and plaster a smile on your face, “Right! Let’s go!” 

Nervously you walk to an empty sheet sitting flat on the ground and Jay follows you, standing at your side as your cousin runs over the rules. You wait for Jay to realize the mistake he’s made by suggesting to play, but instead of a look of worry, he’s smiling. He looked rather excited, a hint of determination ghosting his face. 

Before you both know it, the game begins. The first round was the easiest—you both had simply stood within the two-feet by two-feet sheet of paper. But as each round passes, the area that you and Jay can stand on gets smaller and smaller. And as the area shrinks, so does the space between you two.

You’re so close to him that you can smell his perfume and you can feel his breath against your forehead. Your heart betrays you because you can feel it pounding against your chest. You only hope that Jay doesn’t hear or feel it. 

You look down at the folded sheet of paper. It was less than half of its original size and something is telling you that the next round was going to be difficult. 

Your cousin cues for the next round to begin and you and Jay get off the paper to fold it. He mumbles, “I don’t think we can both stand on this. Or both our feet at least.” 

“We can each balance on one foot,” you suggested. You test out the size and place your foot on it. There was barely enough room for two feet.

When Jay notices this he shakes his head, “I don’t think that would work… we’d just fall over. I think I’ll have to carry you.” His suggestion makes you look up and you find him staring back, “You can get on my back?”

“Can you balance on one foot with me on your back?” you question. It’s suddenly getting hot in the room. Was it your sweater? You hope so. You don’t want to dwindle on the thought any longer. 

He nods, “I think I can.” 

“O-Okay,” you say quietly. You glance at the other teams and see that your cousins are on the brink of tears trying not to laugh because if they laughed, they’d lose balance with the ridiculous poses they’re somehow pulling. 

Jay kneels down, one knee touching the ground before he gestures for you to get on. And you do, though you get on carefully because you’re still not processing the situation. Once you hop on his back, Jay gently guides your legs around his torso and he pulls your upper body closer to his back with a tug on your sleeve. When you are secured on his back, he easily stands up. 

Now you’re afraid that he can feel the way your heart’s beating against his back. There was absolutely no way he couldn’t. 

“It’s easier for me if you’re like this,” he says to you. You nod even though you’re right behind him, “Stay as still as you can.” 

Jay steps onto the folded piece of paper, waiting for your cousin to tell the teams that it is time to hold positions. Once she had given the signal, Jay raised his left leg in the slightest, balancing on just his right foot. 

Almost immediately, your cousins fail to keep themselves from touching the ground and, somehow, you and Jay are the only ones left standing. You don't process it until it is announced.

“Congratulations to Y/N and Jay for being the first adult winners of the night!” Your cousin cheers. You notice that she has tears in her eyes from laughing as she approaches you both with the prize. A bunch of the older adults are clapping in amusement, heads shaking from the entertainment. 

You quickly jump off of Jay’s back, and out of habit, you grab his hand, shaking it out of joy. You repeat a ‘we won’ a couple of times and Jay couldn’t help but beam at the string of events, watching as you receive the present for the both of you.

Jay has never in his life played party games at a family party. Sure his family was too busy to even have parties like this, but even if they did have the time to plan out a party, his family was too small for these games to even be considered fun. 

And if he were being honest, this party was the most fun he’s had in so long. 

“What is it?” Jay leans in close to you, trying to catch sight of whatever’s in the bag. You both have settled on the couch while the next game begins. 

You pull the prize out to reveal two big bags of your favourite expensive holiday chocolate and your eyes gleam at the sight. You drop one bag and then hand the other to Jay, “Here you go. That was fun!”

Jay nods, a smile settling upon his lips. “It really was.” The adrenaline from the game is beginning to vanish and he’s coming down from his high. “Let’s play the next one?”

When it was getting late, Jay decided that it was time to leave. It wasn’t like he was leaving to escape from the party, because truly, he had spent so much time on games and picture-taking that his energy was beginning to diminish. He’d love to stay, but he knows that tomorrow, he’ll have to be back at the office doing work. 

He wonders how this night will change the way you guys are in office. Surely, he’ll keep his professionalism at work, but he can’t just pass by you tomorrow and act like you didn’t willingly invite him into your home to spend Christmas with your family. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir!” You say at the doorway, “I hope you had fun.” Jay is silent for a few long moments and you can’t help but call out to him, “Sir?”

“S-sorry, I just started getting you used to calling me by name that it threw me off,” he replies sheepishly. 

“Oh… um, I’ll call you whatever you’d like.” 

“When we’re out of the office, just call me Jay okay?” Jay shuffled forward and he’s closer to you now, “It’s more fitting, don’t you think?” 

You nod and you huff out a large puff of air that shows up in front of you, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Jay.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” Jay echoes. There's a lingering feeling in the cool air that engulfs the both of you. You couldn't quite put a name to it, but it was a nice feeling. It was warm. Then, before you know it, Jay finds himself giving you a hug. And not one of those half-assed side hugs, but one that you could easily tell he needed.

You hesitate at first, but then you slowly return the gesture.

After what felt like a while, he stepped back, “S-sorry I... I'm just really thankful for tonight. Tell your family thank you, too.” There’s so much more that Jay wants to say, but for now, this will simply suffice. 

“It’s nothing,” you say, still slightly stunned, “I expect to see you next year, then.” 

One corner of Jay’s lips jerks up and he laughs, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

When Jay leaves, you turn back to rejoin your family, who’s looking at you expectedly. 

“What?”

“Did you guys kiss?” One of your cousins joke.

You brows furrow and you burst out laughing, “Ha! No way!” What the hell was this guy even talking about? You and Jay kissing? He was your boss for god’s sake. Isn’t that like… forbidden or something? 

You try to change the topic because the thought was mind-boggling and you didn’t want them to catch the way your cheeks and your ears were heating up at the thought. “He says thank you,” You say and move to sit next to them, “And I told him he should come next Christmas.”

Your mom betrays you, “As your boyfriend?” Of course she would say that. 

Another laugh leaves your lips and you shake your head, “I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”

(Or so you think.)

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi

an: ughhhhhh I really love this pair (ಡ᎔ಡ) it would be soso cute to see more of them but I can'tttt I need to write the other ones,, pls leave comments cause I love hearing your thoughts!,, n e ways I hope you enjoyed this! Renjun is up next, so please look forward to his!