#i just had some very clear ideas about this fic that couldn't be expressed in the usual medium of character actions and dialogue

[blackshadowswriter]

Kneel At The Altar┃Matt Murdock

Summary: The one in which the Devil fucks you at the altar.

Warnings: blasphemy? (because I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to fuck in church), reader (me) having very unholy thoughts about Matt in church and Matt acting on those unholy thoughts, little bit of exhibitionism, smut: dom!Matt, kinda rough p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, edging, praying while Matt eats you out AND fingers you (???), choking kink, praise kink, spanking, some degradation, marking, multiple orgasms, some overstimulation, dirty talk (not particularly in that order)

God, if you're reading this, stop here, it isn't for you bby 😘

Words: 7,691

AN: Would you believe me if I said that this fic idea formed in my head WHILE I was in church? I'm not even kidding, I got dragged to church, and I literally thought up this fic while sitting in church, half-listening to a sermon. This fic has been sitting in my drafts for a while now, and I guess the wait was worth it because I bring you 7k words of pure sin. My content warnings have never been this long before, and that's probably not a good sign (or it's a very, very good sign)

Tagging my wonderful @farfromstrange because you also inspired me to finish this, and our horny enthusiasm for this fic kept me going, ily sm girl 🖤

As you knelt in front of the altar on your hands on knees with tears in your eyes and the Devil himself between your legs, you wondered how you had gotten yourself into this predicament. 

It had started out so innocent: dear Matthew asking you to go to mass with him, swaying you with his plea of "I don't want to go alone, sweetheart, please" and that drowned puppy look in his eyes. For someone who couldn't see out of them, Matt could express a great deal of emotion in his eyes. 

You agreed to accompany him to Sunday morning mass and returned the victorious grin that had spread across his face with a fond one of your own. You weren't usually one for religious settings like this, but it was worth it to see Matt in that black suit with the white dress shirt—one of your favorite outfits on Matt. 

Half of the sermon fell on your deaf ears as most of your attention was on Matt, studying his gorgeous side profile and that stubbled jawline that you loved kissing when he fucked you. God, it felt even better between your legs. The thought of that sent heat flaring across your body as you squeezed your thighs together. 

Besides you, Matt cleared his throat quietly, nudging you in your side, undoubtedly guessing where your thoughts had gone. A faint blush rose to your cheeks when you saw that Matt's jaw was clenched tightly, a sign you had come to know meant that he was trying to control himself. The sight of that only spurred on further thoughts of Matt losing control and fucking you right there. 

Matt let out a quiet but ragged breath, and you knew he could smell the arousal between your thighs. His grip on his cane was so tense that his knuckles had turned white, his scars visible against his trembling fist. Your mouth went dry as you remembered those knuckles buried inside of you as you moaned for him just a few nights ago. Thighs clenching even tighter together, you bit back a grin at Matt's low hiss of your name. 

Subtly, Matt adjusted his pants next to you, and the discomfort on his face made you stifle a laugh. The quiet growl Matt rumbled in warning did nothing to dissuade you. You could feel the heat of Matt's body pressed against yours and bit your lip, recalling how it felt against your bare skin. 

Your fingers started to creep towards Matt's thigh, lightly skimming up and down the side of those muscular thighs that always caged you in when he knelt on top of you in bed. Faster than you could blink, Matt's hand flew towards you and caught your wrist in his tight grip. 

"Not here, for God's sake," he hissed in your ear. 

"Funny you'd phrase it like that," you murmured in amusement. 

Matt turned to glare at you behind his opaque red glasses, but the way he had to fold his hands across his lap to maintain some semblance of his Good Catholic Boy image in church (which you had come to realize was a total façade) told you he wanted it as much as you did. 

You should probably listen to him and stop before anything happened. What was the punishment for getting handsy in God's house again? You had a feeling you didn't want to know. 

But there was the slight thrill of excitement shooting through you at the risk of doing this in pubic. A sly grin slid across your lips as you tilted your head towards Matt's ear, letting your hair fall forward in a way that would seem to onlookers as though you were merely whispering something to him. Instead, you nipped at his neck right below his ear where you knew he was sensitive. Matt's entire form, every inch of thick muscle and power stiffened at the contact, and you heard him give the smallest, tinniest groan that no one other than you would be able to hear.  

Matt growled your name in warning, but there was no denying the lust burning in his dark eyes. His blank gaze had landed somewhere around your lips, and you wondered if he really was going to give into desire and kiss your right there. 

But then everyone started to rise around them to sing the closing songs, and the sudden movement snapped both of you out of whatever horny haze you had been in. You stood like everyone else, shoulders pressed together, forced to ignore the blatant lust coiling in both of you.

For now.

═══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ ═══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘═══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ ════════ 

"I'm going out," Matt whispered to you sometime late at night as you laid curled in bed with a book in hand while the shadow of the Devil stood behind you. 

At his words, you shut your book and rolled over to face him, eyes roving over the skin-tight black suit through which you could practically see every single ab. His black mask was held in one hand while the other came up to cradle your face gently. As much was you enjoyed Matt in his black lawyer suit, you decided that you enjoyed Matt even more in his black Devil suit when you could run your fingers across his broad chest and feel the almost burning heat of his skin underneath. 

You tilted your head up to study Matt's face. Whenever his mask was on, cloaking so much of his face in black, he felt like a phantom shadow that could disappear if you closed your eyes for a second too long. There was something sharp and fiery and dangerous about him.

You didn't mind of course. In actuality, you enjoyed it—enjoyed the danger of dancing with the Devil. 

"Okay," you said, sitting up to press a kiss to his soft lips. "Stay safe." 

"I will," he murmured, brushing his calloused fingers across your temple. "Stay in the apartment. Wait for me when I get back." 

You knew that voice—that low, possessive tone that dripped with promise for what was to come. A knowing smirk flitted across your lips as you hooked your legs around his waist to pull him nearer. "Yeah?" you challenged. "And what are you going to do when you get back?" 

Matt chuckled softly, and even though the mask was off, that sound right there was purely the Devil speaking. "Oh sweetheart," he purred. "That's only for me to know, isn't it?" 

That low, raspy voice he used rekindled that fiery want that had burned so dangerously in you hours earlier. By the time Sunday morning mass had been over, Foggy and Karen had called you both over for lunch in the office. The rest of the day had went by as normal with neither of you acknowledging what had transpired in the church outside of his promising smirks and your light, teasing touches ghosting across his body. 

Now, however, with the Devil ready to be unleashed, there was nothing stopping that eager, burning desire rearing its head in both of you.

Nothing except Matt's duty to the city. 

Fucking morals. You could just stay with me in bed, you thought about telling him. You might even be able to cajole him into staying if you could rile him up enough.

But no. You understood Matt's commitment to Hell's Kitchen even if you weren't too fond of the fact he got beat up every night. Still, it would be cruel to ask him to stop what he did just for you, just so he could hear the cries of those who needed him going unanswered in the merciless shadow of the night.

You weren't above asking for a little taste of his promise, however. "Tell me," you begged softly. "Tell me what you want to do to me."

That sharp grin was still on his face. "When I come back," Matt whispered in your ear, "I am going to fuck you into this mattress so hard that you won't be able to keep quiet." His fingers danced down the nape of your neck lightly, and you shivered. "And you're going to be screaming my name so loud, so everyone can hear who you belong to." 

"Oh my God," you whimpered, eyes rolling back at the promise. That heat coiling in your stomach lashed out across your body, spreading through you like a wildfire. It pooled between your thighs, making you clench them tightly together with a soft moan. "Matthew." 

The devilish smile that spread across his lips was absolutely sinful, a promise of the night to come. "But," he rumbled in your ear, his hand reaching down to grasp your wrist as he had in church. "You are not to touch yourself until I come back. Do you understand?" 

You whimpered again. 

"I said," Matt growled, "do you understand me?" 

"Yes," you whined. "But God, Matt, please...I can't wait that long, Matt, please—" 

"You will," he said sharply, "or you'll be punished." He released his harsh hold on your wrist and brought his hand up to trail lightly across your cheek, his tenderness a stark contrast to his rough dominance a few seconds ago. "You can do that for me, can't you, sweetheart? Can't you be a good girl for me? Can't you be a good girl and wait for me to get back to fuck you?" 

Fuck, not the praise. 

Your head fell backwards with a small shuddering moan, eyes falling shut as your thighs squeezed tightly together, a desperate motion to ease the ache in your core. "Matt," you whimpered. "Please." 

His low laugh breezed across your cheek, and Matt's hand disappeared from your cheek. "Be good," came his stern order, and then the radiant heat from Matt's body vanished, leaving you panting and desperate.

By the time your eyes had snapped open, the Devil was gone, melting back into the shadows into the night. 

═══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ ═══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘═══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ ════════ 

You tried. 

Oh God, you truly tried. 

You laid there in bed, body burning with desperate need as you tried not to think about what Matt was planning to do to you lest your predicament worsen. 

You tried to read. You rolled onto your stomach and flipped your book back open, trying to pick up where you left off. It did no good—the words wouldn't permeate the fog of sinful thoughts swarming in your head that screamed Matt, Matt, Matt. 

You thought about disobeying Matt and touching yourself, just to relieve some of that pressure building between your legs but quickly dismissed the idea. Matt would know if you did—he would smell the scent of your arousal on your fingers and instantly know what you had done. Even though the prospect of his punishment was excitement, tonight you didn't think you could stand his merciless teasing. You needed him desperately. 

Eventually, after nearly an hour of lying there, you got out of bed and slipped your shoes on. You would go for a walk around the neighborhood, you decided. The fresh air would help clear your head and calm yourself down. 

At least that's what you told yourself you would say if a certain Devil caught your scent and chased you down. 

And if you were really just hoping that said Devil really would catch your scent...well, that was no one's business, was that? 

═══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ ═══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘═══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ ════════ 

In an interesting twist of irony, you made it as far as the gates of Clinton Church before he caught up with you. 

You thought you had heard him behind you several times as you walked, and you knew he must have been letting you hear his small footsteps and scuffles on purpose. If he wanted to, Matt could move like a giant Devilish cat, leaping across rooftops thought the dark in absolute silence. 

But then you paused in front of the church, staring at the stained glass windows through which you could see the dark interior as you thought about that morning. You didn't even noticed the church doors slowly creeping open in front of your, too caught up in your thoughts. 

Suddenly, a strong arm snaked around your waist and yanked you through the doors into the dark church. The startled gasp that flew from your lips at the quick movement was quickly stifled by a large hand over your mouth, but you weren't afraid. You could feel the familiar, broad line of muscle pressed against your back, his body heat that always burned so warm a comforting feeling after the cold New York air. 

"I told you to wait for me," a low voice hissed in your ear. 

You bit back a grin, the tingle of excitement in your stomach growing stronger. "I was just going out for a walk," you said innocently. 

He growled behind you and dragged you towards the altar through the rows of empty pews. As your feet stumbled along, your eyes darted around the dark interior, sweeping for any sign of company. You shouldn't have been worried though—Matt had far more effectively scoped out the inside already to make sure no one else was there. 

"Kneel," Matt ordered when they reached the altar. 

You obeyed, dropping to your knees in front of the wooden table. The cloth that usually draped across it was absent tonight—perhaps being cleaned or for some other reason. It didn't matter. All that mattered right now was the man pressed against your back. 

"You've been a bad girl tonight," Matt mused, his chest vibrating against your back when he spoke. 

"Well, you were taking so long, so I thought I'd come find you," you replied sweetly, unable to keep the grin off your face this time. 

Matt hadn't told you that you could move, so you kept still in the position he had ordered you in—kneeling in front of the altar facing forward away from the warm frame of muscle and power at your back. Your eyes turned, almost automatically, up towards the massive statue of Jesus hanging from the cross as you silently wondered if Matt really was planning on taking your right in front of that statue. You decided you wouldn't mind if he did. 

Behind you, you could hear Matt pacing quietly, purposefully keeping out of your line of sight. He made a tsking noise. "So impatient," he tutted. "Perhaps I need to teach you the virtue of patience, don't you think, sweetheart?" 

You licked your lips slowly. "What does this lesson on patience include, sir?" you asked, emphasizing the last word with a smirk. 

His sharp inhale carried to your ears, and your grin widened. Your goal tonight was to rile Matt up enough that he would either forget about your disobedience or not care. So far, the plan was going great.

Then, his hand fisted in your hair and yanked your head back. Matt's burning form reappeared, pressed flushed against your back. His hot breath was in your ear suddenly, growling, "I want you to take these off—" his finger curled in the waistband of your pants and snapped them against your waist "—and get on your hands and knees."

When you didn't move at first, he landed a sharp hit to your clothed ass. You yelped, and his hand darted up to cover your mouth.

"Move, sweetheart," he ordered lowly. "And keep quiet. We don't want anyone hearing us here, do we?"

"No," you panted even though you weren't sure if you were telling the truth. His hand released your hair, and you scrambled to obey him, peeling off your jeans and tossing them aside before kneeling how he told you to. The position felt oddly exposed—you could feel cold air breezing across your naked legs and shivered.

"That's better," Matt murmured behind you. His bare hand—when had he taken off the gloves?—brushed against the back of your thigh, and you whimpered, instinctively pressing back against him. This time, when his hand came down your ass, you didn't have the denim of your jeans to protect you. The sound of his hand against the thin material of your panties echoed with a sharp crack through the church. You had to bring a hand up to fist in your mouth to keep quiet from the sting.

"So." He trailed a finger across the back of your thighs lazily, occasionally dipping them down to slide along the soaked fabric of your panties, taking pleasure in each of your hitched breathes. "You want to explain what that was about earlier?"

"I was just going for a walk," you whimpered, desperately arching back into him, but his fingers disappeared the moment you did. The next second, another sharp smack landed on your ass, jolting you forward with a small gasp.

"That's not what I was asking, and you know it," Matt said calmly. "I was talking about this morning."

A feeling of something—you didn't know what that was—ran down your spine, and you shivered, heart rate picking up at the memory of your little dalliance during mass.

"I don't know," you breathed.

Your heart skipped. Lie.

Another harsh strike landed on your ass. "You do."

"Fuck, Matt," you nearly cried, "please!"

"What are you asking for, hm?" Matt murmured, running a large palm over your stinging ass. "Tell me, sweetheart."

"Touch me, fuck me, anything," you begged. "Please, Matt, I've waited so long."

"Then you can wait a little more, can't you?"

"No," you panted, trying not to move, your body on fire. "Matt, please!"

He gave a thoughtful hum, fingers teasing you lightly through the thin fabric of your panties. Your hips bucked back instantly, a sharp whine leaving your throat at the touch. You tried to grind against his hand, but he yanked it away with a low, almost mocking chuckle.

"You've been naughty today, sweetheart," Matt purred. "Having such unholy thoughts in church—don't think I didn't know what you were thinking about. Tell me what were you imagining, hmm?"

Heat rose to your face, melting right along with the fire raging across the rest of your body. "I don't know," you stammered.

"Lie," Matt said, his voice darkly amused. His hand slid underneath your jaw and tilted your head back, so he could press his lips to the shell of your ear. "Were you thinking about me fucking you, sweetheart?"

A ragged moan fell from your mouth, a pulse of heat running across your spine. You let your head fall back against Matt's shoulder, arching back against him. The hand gripping your jaw stroked your cheek gently, a glimpse of softness underneath his dominating exterior.

"Please," you begged quietly. "I need it, Matt. I'll do anything, please..."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

He let out a quiet, considering noise, his fingers absently stroking your jaw with a gentleness that you had come to know precede the roughness. You whimpered quietly, begging him in your head to hurry up and do whatever the fuck he wanted to do so he could just fuck you already. Your body was aching with need, that fire in your raging to be satisfied.

"How well do you remember the Lord's Prayer?" Matt asked you abruptly.

You blinked in surprise. "T-the Lord's Prayer?"

"Yes."

"Um...kind of?" you said uncertainly. "Haven't done it since middle school." You felt the breath from his quiet laughter skate across your earlobe and twitched in anticipation of whatever he had planned.

"Here's what's going to happen," he said slowly, his tone dipping back down into the low timber of his Devil voice, the one that always sent shivers down your spine. "You're going to recite it for me as penance for your sins."

"I didn't—"

"Thinking about the Devil fucking you in church is a sin, sweetheart," Matt cooed. "You're going to need to repent if you want to get what you want."

"Y-you want me to pray."

"Yes."

"Right here. Kneeling in my panties. With you at my back, half grinding on my ass."

A sharp swat landed on your ass. "Hmm, it seems more like you were the one grinding on me," he chuckled lowly, dragging his finger along the seam of your underwear. "As for the panties, God might mind, but I don't think the Devil does. In fact, he prefers you praying like this. Go on, sweetheart. Say your prayer, and maybe I'll think about giving you what you want."

You drew in a shaky breath, trying to clear your head away from thoughts of Matt, fuck me already and remember the words of the prayer. This actually wasn't so bad, you decided. It was a bit of a weird request to pray, kneeling at the altar in soaked panties, but it was fine. All you had to do was recite the prayer, and then hopefully, Matt would be satisfied and finally give in to you.

Oh, how wrong you were.

"Okay," you started to say, the vaguely remembered words coming to the tip of your tongue. "Um...Our Father...who art in heaven...hallowed be...thy name?"

"Keep going," Matt purred in your ear, his hands sliding down from your face to lightly grip your throat for a brief moment, enjoying your shaky groan at the contact. He pushed you back down onto your hands and knees, hand running down to your waist and dragging sensually across your hips.

Whimpering at the touch, you bit your lip and forced the next words out. "Y-your kingdom come....and, um....your will be done—Matt, what are you—?"

For he had just hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and started to slide them down your hips. Your breath caught in your throat at the way the fabric slid against your most sensitive areas. "Don't worry about me," he murmured. "Just lift your legs up for me—there you go. Continue."

What the actual fuck? Did he honestly expect you to be even close to okay after that? He slid your panties completely free of your legs, leaving your soaked heat bare to him. You whimpered at the barely there brush of his fingers against your inner thigh, just a few inches away from where you ached for him most.

"Continue, sweetheart," Matt ordered.

You tried to take another deep breath and continue where you'd left off. "Okay, um...will be done...on—on Earth as it is in Heaven. Uh...give us this day our—fucking hell, Matthew—oh my God, fuck!"

You lurched forward, a strangled cry falling from your lips when you felt Matt's mouth suddenly close around your dripping cunt, tongue lashing mercilessly against your clit so fast and so sharp it nearly hurt. He kept up the torturous pace for a few seconds while you writhed and moaned, pleasure striking like lightning between your legs and arcing up to your back and across your legs. His mouth on you was both a remedy and fuel to the desperate need that had been kindling there all night. Your hands clawed at the carpet underneath you, fire burning across every nerve in your body as you shuddered and cried out for him.

Then, as suddenly as it came, his mouth vanished from your cunt in a heartbeat, and you were left just as empty and desperate as you were a few seconds ago.

"No!" you choked out, voice thick with fading pleasure and need as you tried to grind back against him uselessly. "Matt, please!"

He didn't answer your plea for a few moments, instead dragging his tongue across his lips and moaning softly as the taste of you. God, you were perfection to him, you always were. Matt wanted nothing more than to dive back between your legs and drink from you until you had nothing left to give him.

But half the enjoyment of the catch was the chase, and Matt was not done teasing you yet. He laughed darkly, landing another slap to your ass, gentler this time but no less firm. "I told you to pray, sweetheart," he reminded you. "I told you to pray and repent for your sins. And what do you do? Be a filthy little girl and start moaning for me? In God's house? What a dirty little girl you are."

Your mouth fell open at the sheer audacity of this man to accuse you of such a thing when he just fucking ate you out right in front of the altar. Still, there was no hiding the shudder that rolled through you at his words, and Matt gripped your hips firmer.

"You're going to finish your prayer," Matt ordered. "No matter what happens, and then we'll see if you deserve to get fucked."

"'No matter what happens?'" you repeated in a choked whisper. "Are you—you're not actually going to—"

Another hard hit landed on your ass, the sting only feeding the fire threatening to consume you. "Pray, sweetheart," Matt ordered. "Can't you follow a simple command?"

You swallowed thickly. "Y-yes, I can."

"Good. Then continue."

You whimpered softly, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to ignore the burning, aching need for him between your legs. Where had you even left off on the prayer?

"Give us this day our daily bread," you stammered out. "And—um—forgive us our— oh God!"

Because fuck, his mouth was on you again, hungrily lapping at your cunt as you bucked against him desperately. His hot tongue dragged across your clit, and burning pleasure was scorching every inch of your skin. You threw back your head with a wanton moan when Matt circled the sensitive bud with a quick swipe of tongue that had you writhing in his firm grip.

"Matt!" you cried, molten heat rolling across every nerve in your body. Your hands curled against the carpet, desperately grasping for something to hold on to, to brace you against the raging fire licking at your insides.

Matt paused in his motions, pulling his mouth away for a second, but his finger came to replace his tongue, drawing languid circles on your clit that had you rolling your hips in desperation.

"I told you to pray," he told you again, quiet warning in his voice. "Don't make me remind you again."

A strangled noise fell from your lips. "Y-you keep eating me out, and you want me to pray?" you squeaked.

You didn't have to look back to know he had that feral grin on his lips, the one that always drove you insane. "Oh sweetheart, that was the plan from the beginning."

And his deliciously thick finger plunged into you with a sinfully slick noise that seemed to echo through the empty church like a reminder of the blasphemy taking place at the altar, and then you were writhing, whining, whimpering as Matt fucked you slowly with his middle finger. His purposefully slow, deliberate strokes had you moaning so loud, you thought anyone passing by the church might hear you. Each thrust of his finger inside of you stoked that deep, festering pleasure that burned in your very core, making you arch and cry out to a God too ashamed to answer you.

That was okay, you thought through a thick haze of pleasure. You didn't need God to answer you. You needed the Devil to fuck you.

Matt groaned, his eyes rolling back at the smell of your arousal. He dragged his tongue over his lips, bringing the delicious taste of you from the air into his mouth, heat rippling through him at that new sensation. Painfully hard and throbbing in his pants, Matt panted, desperately drawing another breath in just to drag more of your taste into him. You were exquisite. You were perfect, his good little girl, making such pretty noises for him. You were everything he needed and so much more.

His thumb dragged across your sensitive clit, sending jolts of fiery pleasure stabbing through you as that pressure started to build in your lower abdomen, fire coiling into a tight rope, ready to snap. And oh, there it was, sweet orgasm dancing within reach, so close but so far away. Half sobbing, you arched against him, desperately trying to get him to fuck you faster.

But then Matt's fingers withdrew suddenly, leaving you empty and aching, slick dripping down your thighs as a harsh sob left your chest. The burning edge of orgasm was already fading away. "Matt," you cried, "please! Please, Matt, please, you've been teasing me for so long—"

"Isn't that what you wanted?" he snarled, his hand fisting in your hair to yank your head back, so his lips were right against your ear. "Don't act like you didn't want this, you dirty little girl."

A wanton moan slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, before you could register the embarrassment. "I wanted you to fuck me," you groaned. "I need it, Matt, please."

Abruptly, he released his grip on your hair but not before delivering another harsh swat to your ass. "You want me to fuck you? Then do as I say," he commanded. "I gave you an order, sweetheart, and you still haven't followed it. You better finish that prayer before I decide to give you another punishment for not listening."

"I—I don't—"

Another hit to your ass. "Did you not hear me?" Matt growled, his voice all rough edges and heated ash drifting across your skin. "Or do you just enjoy being a brat?"

This, you thought vaguely, this should be embarrassing. The way he degraded you, the way he called you his dirty little girl, his brat—if it had been any other man, you would've beat the shit out of him. But oh, it was him, it was your Matt, it was your Devil whispering filthy words to you, and every single syllable sent another pulse of heat rolling through you like molten lava.

"This is your last warning," Matt said lowly. "Finish your prayer now, or I'll give you another punishment."

Your brain scrambled to comprehend what he was saying, or at least some part of your brain that hadn't shut down, that wasn't giving in to primal instinct to beg Matt to fuck you. Where the fuck had you even left off?

"...F-forgive us our trespasses as we forgive...our—no, uh, those who trespass against us. And, um, lead us not into temptatio—ah, Matt!"

God, this time it was two of his wonderfully thick fingers pushing into you abruptly, thick heat pulsing through you. Your hips bucked against him instinctively, seeking moremoremore. The words of the prayer died on your tongue, replaced by shameless whimpers and moans as Matt dragged them out slowly and then shoved them back in a harsh thrust, the tips of his fingers barely grazing that spot, deep inside of you. Desperate, keening cries tumbled from your mouth as you threw your head back, gasping and whining.

You—oh God—you needed more. Hot pleasure wormed its way through your body, consuming every other thought until you were left with nothing but primal, wanton need. Your arms trembled as you barely held yourself up, cunt throbbing around Matt's fingers achingly.

This time, when Matt pulled your hair back and snarled in your ear, his fingers didn't leave you. Instead, they continued their torturously slow pace even as he purred, "Finish the goddamn prayer, sweetheart, and don't make me ask again."

You knew better than to protest the unfairness of him making you recite a prayer while he fucked you on his fingers in front of the altar. You could barely summon a thought that wasn't fuck me, Matt, please, but you managed to choke out the next line.

"Deliver us from evil," you sobbed even as Matt brushed his thumb across your clit again, making you jolt at the sharp pleasure racing along the bud of sensitive nerves. "I—ah!—don't know the rest—" you stammered, desperate to reach the end.

"Lie," he chuckled in your ear. "Lie one more time, and that prayer is going to be the least of your problems, sweetheart."

Your head fell back against his hand, eyes falling shut as your needy whimpers echoed along the church walls. His fingers had picked up pace, and now Matt pressed them deep enough to just ever so slightly brush against your g-spot. Even that brief, barely there contact was enough to have you dripping and throbbing on his fingers.

"Finish it," Matt cooed in your ear. "Come on, honey, you're so close."

In both ways, you thought distantly in your muddled mind. "Please!" you cried.

"Finish the last bit, and you can come," he promised.

Well, that changed things. Spurred on by his vow, you blinked harshly, trying to put aside the scorching pleasure arcing through your body for a second.

"For the—the kingdom and—uh something about power and glory—is yours, uh, nowandforeveramen," you rushed out, squeezing your eyes shut, and begging, begging that it was good enough for Matt.

"Hmm," he hummed, considering. Should he make you redo that last bit? Technically it wasn't correct, and how he would love to hear you cry for him if he made you repeat it. But then you ground your hips back, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers with a strangled cry of "please, sir!" And oh, how he could deny that?

Matt didn't reply, but you heard him shifting behind you, the rhythm of his fingers pausing for a second. A half sobbed plea was forming on your lips, but it was chased away in a heartbeat when the glorious wet heat of Matt's mouth closed around your cunt again.

Sinfully loud moans and gasps tore from your throat, your head falling forward. Fiery pleasure almost too much to handle burned between your legs, coursing up through your entire body until your toes were curling and your hands gripping the carpet. Matt lapped at your clit like a man starved, all while his fingers resumed their motions, finally picking up pace, settling into a fast rhythm you so desperately needed.

You were racing towards your climax at a speed that would've been embarrassing if Matt hadn't been edging you all night. "Please," you choked out, tears streaming down your face from the sheer intensity of it all. "Please, Matt, you said I could come, I need it, please—"

And his hand that was holding on to you squeezed your hip, and that was all the confirmation you needed. Wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking, Matt curled his fingers inside of you just right, pressing down on that spot, and then you just fell. Off that high cliff you had been dancing to and from for the entire night.

The plummet was truly something else: your back arched, and a ragged cry—almost scream—was falling from your mouth, incoherent noises and words reaching Matt's ears as orgasm surged over you like a tidal wave, knocking you off your feet and dragging you under into a blanket of blissful oblivion. You swore you saw stars popping in the corners of your blurry vision, so much white-hot pleasure burning through you, it was almost incomprehensible.

Matt slowed the drag of his fingers but kept up soft little kitten licks on your clit as you came down until you were twitching and whimpering from the oversensitivity. But he didn't wait for you to fully recover before continuing.

In one swift move, he flipped you over into your back, and you got a glimpse of his powerful form leaning over you, his flushed face, his straining bulge in his pants, his lust-filled eyes burning into you before his mouth crashed against yours in a fiery kiss.

You could practically feel his hunger devouring you from that kiss from the way he claimed your lips, hot tongue pressing into your mouth the second you opened to him. His teeth lightly nipped your bottom lip, and your moan was swallowed by his tongue sliding against yours. Matt groaned into your mouth, his hips grinding down against you.

"Matt," you whined when he broke the kiss to let you come up for air. "Please, I need you."

He growled, the hungry sound nothing short of feral as he dipped his head to suck at your neck. The hot embrace of his mouth at your throat had you keening, tilting your head back for more, which he gave you, his teeth grazed the delicate, vulnerable skin. A low hum rippled through his form before he suddenly sank his teeth into your neck, nipping you hard enough to leave a mark. You gasped, body involuntarily arching up into him as Matt dragged his tongue over the spot he had bit as if soothing it.

"Wanna mark you, sweetheart," he moaned into your neck. "So they know who you belong to."

Jesus fucking Christ. This man was going to be the death of you.

"Fuck me," you begged. "I want it, Matt, please. Mark me, fuck me, make me yours."

Another feral snarl rumbled deep in his chest, and then suddenly, you were lifted up into the air before your back hit a cold, stone table.

Did he just put you on the fucking altar?

You didn't have time to think about that, however, because Matt was hurriedly unbuckling his pants, and the only thought left in your head was finally. Eagerly, you helped him shove those goddamn pants off his hips, licking your lips at the sight of his straining cock in his boxers before you yanked those down too, reveling in Matt's soft whimper. His cock was painfully hard, the tip bright red and slick with his precum that dripped down his throbbing length. The mere sight of his gorgeous cock had you clenching your thighs together as you wrapped your hand around his thigh girth, stroking him softly. The throaty moan of your name he let out sent shivers racing down your spine.

"Sweetheart," he groaned, eyes falling shut.

"Please," you whined, "I need you, Matt. I need you inside me."

"Fuck," he breathed, and his fingers curled around your hips, yanking you forward suddenly. With a gasp, you were dragged across the altar until your legs could wrap around Matt, who was standing right between between thighs, all that thick, powerful muscle cradled between your legs. Matt lined his cock up with your entrance and brought his hand out to cradle your face. "I want to hear you scream for me," he ordered. "I want everyone to hear who you belong to."

You whimpered, nodding frantically. "I—yes, Matt, yes, just please—just fuck me, Matt."

Even like this, flushed, panting, and as obviously needy as you were, he could still manage that cocky smirk as his finger brushed across your lips. "You asked for it," he chuckled and finally, finally pushed himself into you, inch by burning inch.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, your mouth falling open as slowly, he slid his thick length into you, the stretch of him in your cunt welcome after the emptiness of so long. "Matt," you moaned when he finally bottomed out, his ragged groan matching your own. God, he was so big, so thick, seated deep inside of you. His burning body molded perfectly against you, the endless expanse of lean muscle and soft skin glorious underneath your roaming hands.

"You feel so good, sweetheart," he panted, dragging his cock out slowly and sliding back in, his leisure pace driving you mad. "Ah!—fuck—you're so tight, baby."

"Want you," you moaned, arching into him. "Want you to fuck me. Fuck me the way I know you want to, Matt, please."

He let out another ragged groan, the hand cradling your cheek moving down to wrap around your throat, not squeezing but just holding for the time being. "Y-yeah?" he stuttered, trying to sound rough and in control but failing as he swallowed down another eager moan. You loved watching him like this, watching the way he fell apart in front of you, all because of you. "And what's that?"

You wrapped your legs around Matt's hips to let him grind deeper into your cunt, matching his heady pant with a needy whimper of your own. "Y-you wanna fuck me hard," you moaned out. "Could feel it, Matt, could feel the way you want it. Please, I—I can take it, I need you to—oh fuck!—fuck me rough. Take me, Matt, please."

His growl rumbled deep in his throat, and the large hand gripping your throat squeezed just once. Matt dipped his head down to place a kiss on your lips, sweet and gentle one last time as he purred against your mouth.

Then, he braced his other hand next to your head on the altar, and when he dragged his hips back, this time he returned to you with a vicious snap of his hips, slamming his cock back into you. A strangled gasp flew from your mouth as your hands scrambled against the altar surface beneath you, trying to find something to hold onto.

But there was nothing, nothing other than you and Matt and the fast, rough, almost brutal pace he set as he drove himself into you again and again. This pleasure was so much deeper and stronger than before, each delicious drag of his cock against your slick cunt sending sparks careening through your body until your brain felt overloaded with bliss. The sounds you two were making were nothing short of downright filthy: the slap of skin on skin as Matt's hips collided with your thighs, the slick noise of his cock gliding through your obscene wet cunt, the sinfully loud moans falling from both of your lips.

Matt's grip on your throat tightened when you clenched around his cock, and he growled, the sound thick and hazy with lust and need. He picked up his pace even more, fucking you so hard you knew you were going to feel it tomorrow, but you didn't give a shit. Worth it, in your opinion, if it came from Matt Murdock railing you like this.

"Matt," you slurred, half drunk on the pleasure he gave you. He stroked your jaw with his thumb, his blank eyes, dark with arousal and lust, focused somewhere around your lips.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he panted, his hips driving into you with animal-like need. "Y-you feel so good. So wet, so tight just for me. You sound so—fucking pretty getting fucked on my cock."

You whined, writhing beneath him even as his hand not gripping your throat pressed against your waist to hold you down. Every goddamn nerve in your body was screaming, burning, scorching with the pleasure that rolled across your body in throbbing waves. Matt adjusted his grip on your waist, lifting you up every so slightly but oh at that perfect angle that let him hit your g-spot with each thrust of his hips.

Your high moan, pitched almost at a scream, was the result as mind numbing pleasure sparked between your thighs with each harsh thrust. You clenched tighter around Matt, spurring his frantic thrusts on until he was pounding into you at a pace close to brutal, the obscene squelch of his cock diving into your soaked cunt echoing around you like an unholy melody, the chorus being your screams.

Matt leaned over you, panting roughly. You could smell the sweet scent of musk and sex in the air and see the way his pink mouth parted with each heavy breath against your throat. He lowered his head to drag along your cheek until his lips were pressed against your ear.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he groaned. "I can feel you, you're almost there." And you were for the second time that night, you could feel the cloud of your orgasm hovering right above you, pushed closer and closer by each brutal stroke of his cock inside of you.

"Come on, honey, come on my cock," Matt ordered, and you whined. "You're taking my cock so well, all you have to do is come for me. Be my good little girl and come all over my fucking cock."

That was all you needed. Your back arched off the altar, your hands shot out to grab desperately at Matt, your eyes squeezed shut, and your head was thrown back in absolute bliss. This time, orgasm rolled over you slower than the first time but even more intense. It scorched its way through every nerve ending in your body, consuming you like a blanket of fiery heat, making your vision go white. Distantly, you heard yourself scream—actually scream—as you descended into a blank state of pure, utter pleasure.

You could feel Matt's pace growing sloppy and frantic, short, desperate thrusts as he panted and groaned louder and louder until his hips stuttered against yours, and the most beautiful moan you had ever heard left his lips. He emptied himself into you, and you felt his hot seed spilling deep inside of your cunt even as Matt continued to grind into your tightness until every last drop of his spent was buried inside of you. He slumped over your body on the altar, both of your chests heaving in sync as you came down from your highs together.

Finally, Matt lifted his head from your chest and peered at you with his lovely dark eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked uncertainly. "Was that too much?"

You cradled his face in your hands, marveling how this wonderful, wonderful man was yours. "It was perfect," you promised, kissing him sweetly. "It's never too much. I love you, Matt."

"Hmm," he hummed contently into your mouth. "I love you so much, sweetheart. You're sure you're okay?"

"Oh I am absolutely glowing, Matthew. If I had known this is what you meant when you said you wanted me to come to church with you, I would've came ages ago."

═══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ ═══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘═══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ ════════

AN: It's been a hot second since I've written full blown smut, so forgive me if it's kinda rusty. Although I feel like I should be asking forgiveness for this whole fic soooo 🤷‍♀️ I wanna say I need to go to church after writing this, but the last time I was in church, I came up with the most unholy smut fic idea ever, so maybe not a good idea (maybe it'll inspire another one though)

If you enjoyed, please remember to like, comment, and reblog! 🖤

My Matt Murdock Masterlist

[wonwoosthetic]

Hi Maddie! Hope you are also keeping happy and healthy! Not sure how caught up you are on this week's going seventeen special, but I watched 'I want to see you do this' and totally thought that DK could have written that wish for Wonwoo in your Minnie fic. I imagine that instead of Hoshi, Minnie gets it, and chaos ensues even before they play that hat game. Her wish is maybe for someone to go to a ballet class or an aerial yoga class with her? Anyway, this isn't a request for you to write, I just wanted to let you know that I'm sometimes thinking of this imaginary world when I watch seventeen content now too. Take care! -boo's pld anon

HIIIII☺️ I know writing this took quite some time, I‘m so sorry!!!!🫶🏼🥺 I truly wasn’t very well caught up with GoSe sadly but let me just tell you: you sometimes thinking about my little fictional world on here when you watch Going Seventeen means so freaking much to me!!! Like… I can’t even believe it😭😭😭 you actually think about this?!?!? That’s insane and a massive compliment!!!!!

I absolutely loved this request and I had a lot of fun writing it, I hope you enjoy it!!!🫶🏼🤍Thank you again for being such a wonderful reader and anon and I can’t even put into words how much it means to me how emerged you are in this story🥺🥺🥺

< series masterlist

word count – 5k

pairing – minnie x svt

[GOING SEVENTEEN SPECIAL] ETC: I Want To See You Do This 🌷 Minnie

'I Want To See You Do This' was the title of the next game the group would play in the long list of what Minnie liked to call 'random games we once mentioned or kinda played and now get to do again'. She was sitting between Dino and Joshua when Minghao introduced the start of the video as he would be the MC for that game.

After a bracket of the idol group had their short jittery moment, the '97 Liner got to finally present the rules of what was to follow.

"You just need to write down something you don't want to do, but you want someone else to do," Minghao explained. "And then we're going to sit here," he pointed to the open space right in front of the couches they were occupying, "and play the hat game."

Minnie smirked to herself before she even opened her mouth to speak. "So like sending Mingyu skydiving?" Earning her a gentle elbow to her side by the '95 Liner to her left and a snarl from the other end of the line.

"Ha ha!" Her fellow '97 Liner called out in clear sarcasm while the rest couldn't help but chuckle.

The girl leaned forward, an annoyingly wide grin on her lips, and turned to the side. She stuck out her tongue in between her lips, getting another annoyed huff in return before Mingyu just copied her facial expression.

[we promise, SEVENTEEN really loves each other]

Before she could react, a soft hand on her arm pulled her back - at least the vice leader could keep one of the members in line.

"But didn't you say, you wanted to go skydiving?" The maknae suddenly wondered at the female member.

Woozi could only frown, mumbling quietly, "Who wants to go skydiving?"

"I do," Minnie nodded, falling back against the cushion behind her as she crossed her arms, "But Mingyu's being mean to me today, so I wanted to mention it." To which Dino could only shake his head with his signature laughter. The other '97 Liner held himself back with a scoff.

[another normal day in the life of roommates]

The producer of the group decided to change the topic. "You could write something you want to do on the chance that you get your own though."

"But the chance of that happening is one in 14," Mingyu clarified, getting corrected that for that day's shoot, it would actually be one in twelve as the two oldest of the group were missing due to their injuries.

"You could be really smart about this," Seungkwan started, "and write something that a member will find really difficult." Before changing his idea again. "Or, you write something that will be heartwarming and beautiful."

Getting a "That's right," in agreement.

Minnie perked up again, straightening her back to move her body forward, eyeing the members to her left that had just spoken. "And what about things you'd want to do with the members?"

"What would you want to do with others?" The '98 Liners nagged her with a smile, but the girl just shrugged.

"Don't we spend enough time together already?" The girl heard from the very end of the line, her gaze meeting Vernon's, who was clearly judging her question, based on his reaction.

"No, we don't!" She defended herself quickly. "At least not all of us."

"Who do you not spend enough time with, Minnie?" Dokyeom's kind voice rang through the room, getting a moment of silence from the girl as she glanced around at each member, thinking to herself.

"Mmmm," she hummed out loud, chuckling once she saw how some of them had started to avoid her gaze. "Junnie-hyung!"

"We just went out to eat together!" The '96 Liner replied, making her head snap towards him.

"And?"

"That was recently! We do spend time together." But that only got a frown out of the female member before she went on to the next one.

[not enough]

"Woozi-hyung!"

"We spend more than enough time together," he stopped her quickly, his palm facing her, putting a little sass to his words.

Minnie scoffed, "In the studio! That's hardly spending real time together."

But he ended the discussion promptly. "It's enough for me." Getting a round of laughter from every member, but her.

[today is a hard day for some people]

While the other ten of them were hardly able to control their chuckles, Minnie threw her hands up in desperation, "Do all of you not want to spend time with me?!"

"Noona," Dino put one hand on her arm and one on her back, comforting her as his lips stayed curled up. "I'll spend some time with you."

[maknae coming to the rescue]

With a big smile, she let her head drop to his shoulder, just as a,

"I'll spend more time with you too," came from her left - a voice she knew all too well. 

[suddenly spending time together is popular]

She didn't even try to hide her grin as she looked past Joshua and found Wonwoo's eyes fixed on her, sending him a nudge with her head,

"Thank you," followed by a sweet grin.

Minghao continued to lay out the rules of the game, letting everyone know that the person who would lose, aka have the red hat in their grip by the end of the round, would have to post a picture or video as evidence of them executing their penalty.

"Wait, but I don't get this-" Seungkwan interrupted. "Are you writing this for a specific member?"

"No, no, no." Before anyone else could even open their mouths, Mingyu beat them to it, "You just write, 'I want to see you do this'. And whoever picks it has to do it."

"But what if I want a specific member to do it?" Minnie wondered, mostly hoping that only the members right next to her had caught it, but her voice seemed to have been loud enough as her fellow '97 Liner continued to run his mouth.

"Well, that's not what this program is about," he told her monotonously. A clear frown formed on her forehead as she turned to glance over at the slightly older member. Shooting her brows up, Minnie nodded at him in annoyance,

"Sorry for asking," slightly rolling her eyes before sulking back into her seat. The members could only chuckle at their antics again, deciding to move on, not commenting on their behaviour even more.

Minghao, being the good and well-prepared MC he was, had started ripping apart the notebook, to hand out exactly 12 sheets of paper. Once everyone had gotten one and Mingyu finally passed around the remaining pens, each member got down to writing. They mostly kept to themselves, some clearly grinning as they put down the penalty they had come up with. The clear box in the middle of the room was slowly filled up by the crumbled-up pieces of paper.

"I probably won't get mine," Dokyeom commented as he stood, strutting over to the box.

Minnie smiled, "I hope I get mine." But Minghao was already shaking his head,

"If you get yours, we'll go again."

"Then I won't say that I pulled my own penalty," she sheepishly grinned at him, to which he could only shake his head with a chuckle.

[keeping secrets]

Finally, it got to the point of the lucky draw. The MC followed the line of the members, letting each pull out one piece of paper after the other. They were ordered to keep them folded, yet, of course, not everyone had gotten that message.

Dino's million-dollar cackle made the girl turn her head, her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Did you look at it already?" She asked him as if she didn't already know.

He nodded, continuing his chuckles. "Who wrote this?" Making Minnie's nosiness spike up. "It's nice. It's very nice," he kept on saying to himself.

"Oh-" Minnie laughed, "Then it's not mine."

The youngest turned towards her. "Why, what did you write?"

"I'll tell you once the member reads it," she assured him.

They decided to go down the same line in which they pulled their penalties, starting with Vernon and ending with Minghao. The '98 Liner didn't seem all too excited about possibly having to become TWS' manager for one day but took it without any complaints before they moved on to Jun. 

"Write a sincere letter to a member and buy them a gift."

As soon as he had finished reading it out loud, the group already had an idea of who this could've been written by.

"Members? All 13?" Dino misunderstood.

"It doesn't say 'all 13'," Jun showed them the piece of paper. But as soon as Minnie's seat neighbour spoke up, she had made up her mind about who could've possibly written that 'penalty'.

"Just one member," Joshua let him know, to which the girl glanced at the '95 Liner with a cheeky smile. She got a chuckle out of him before he shoved her slightly, making her lean into his side and wrap her hands around his biceps. Another hint was a slight misspelling, but even without it, the group knew it could've only been him.

"Hey," Hoshi suddenly started, gaining the attention of the room. "But at least that one had a set person. Mine says, 'I want to see you pole dancing'."

The entire room erupted in loud laughter and almost immediately, Minnie felt a smack to her upper arm - the maknae couldn't control himself - but she tried to not react as best as she could. Failing. Hard.

"What?" Mingyu chuckled, throwing his head back against the couch.

"Minnie, who do you want to see pole dancing?" Seungkwan's sudden accusation made her shoot up.

"What?! Why me?"

"As if this could've been written by anyone else!" The '98 Liner threw at her.

For a second, the girl fell silent, letting the members' laughter die down before she snapped back.

"So what?!" Getting another round of chuckles in response. She shook her head and turned towards Hoshi, grinning at him as he met her eye. "Let's do a class together."

"Together?!" He stopped her with a cackle, the members joining him only a second later.

"Ah- no- wait-," Minnie tried to explain, but interrupted herself with her own laughter. Quickly, she hid behind the oldest member's shoulder, gripping onto them with her life. Suddenly the situation felt a lot different than what she had wanted it to be like. "That sounded weird," she sulked. "Please cut that out," smiling shyly at the producers, who had been laughing just as much as the members.

"That's not what I meant..." she quietly said, but no one was believing her, still insanely amused at the scene.

Woozi shook his head in disbelief, "Mh, sure."

"I don't know what sounds worse. You wanting to see someone pole dance or wanting to do a class with them," Joshua added, earning him a sharp smack to his arm.

"Don't make it weird!" She complained, still whining.

"Did you have someone specific in mind?" Dokyeom continued teasing her, only grinning even harder once he saw her eyes glaring at him.

"No!" She defended herself, even though the question had caught her off-guard.

He continued to push her further, "Who did you want to get the card?"

"You have to be honest, you can't lie!" Seungkwan added, making her roll her eyes.

"I didn't have anyone specific in mind!"

"Are you sure?" Seungkwan made his eyebrows wiggle, continuing to stare at the girl, who was already glaring at him.

"Yes!" She snarled at him, "I told you, I want to spend more time with you." Mumbling to herself, "Idiots..." which only the audio technician caught as he started to chuckle. Her lips curled up at his reaction.

"Spending time together in a pole dancing class?" Mingyu jumped into the conversation, but Minnie only sent a warning finger straight at him.

"Minnie," Hoshi started again. "I would do this happily. Alone or together 

with you." His comment made the female member smile. "Even though it sounds weird." And with that, it faded just as quickly, getting a chuckle from the members surrounding her. A comforting hand found its way onto her knee. Joshua had noticed the slight heat that had come up to her cheeks, making him smile even more as she shook her head in embarrassment, crossing her arms in defence.

-

If Mingyu were to lose, he'd have to write a book report, which they agreed on, would never see the light of day or take multiple years to finish. Minnie couldn't help but smile to herself, not remembering the last time she had seen him even pick up a book out of a reason other than cleaning hers and Wonwoo's up from the living or dining room.

Woozi drew having to go to a workshop retreat alone - which, even he himself, admitted to never wanting to do completely on his own.

And then came Dino, who read out loud,

"I want to see you climb to the top of Halla Mountain and shout 'Hooray'," getting the entire room to laugh and gasp in synch. It wouldn't take him forever, only about 4.5 hours, but still, it was regarded as the highest point in the entire country, altitude-wise.

"Wow," Jun exclaimed, "who wrote that? That's good!"

Considering, the place was in Jeju, Minnie's glance immediately fell on the '98 Liner on her left. And Minghao seemed to have had the same thought as he pointed at the younger member,

"Seungkwan! Because it's in Jeju-" but he was already brushing off the accusation.

"What do you mean, no? Of course, it was you," Minnie threw at him, getting a side-eye in return.

"Not everyone writes so obviously that everyone immediately knows it's you." She was ready to fight back, but also knew that today's shoot already had a few too many bickerings probably and God knows, where this could lead to more, so she decided to retreat.

The discussion immediately switched to the right gear you'd have to own if you were to climb Halla Mountain, making you almost think Dino had already lost and was preparing for the execution of his penalty.

"Alright," Hoshi moved on. "Now, Minnie."

Letting her finally unfold the piece of paper she had been holding onto. At first, she let her eyes look over the characters quickly, followed by a frown making its way to her brows. Only then, did she read it out loud,

"I want to see you sincerely p-pro...pose? Propose?" Once she said the word out loud, Minnie realised what she had just read, "OH-," repeating it in English, "Propose?"

But the members were already giggling left and right. Dino's well-known cackles filled the room while Joshua nodded at her question, shaking his head with a chuckle.

Minnie laughed along with them, glimpsing around the space in confusion, "What?" She was watching the members being clearly entertained by the penalty she had pulled. Her eyes locked on Wonwoo, who was already looking over in her direction, his lips parting,

"Who-... Who wrote that? What?" He tried to find the gaze of one of the others, but they were too occupied by still chuckling at what they had just heard.

"Does it mean like really propose? Or like propose an idea?" Minnie wondered out loud, still looking over at the left side. No answer, just laughter.

"I don't think anyone thinks about proposing an idea in this context," Minghao let his comment slide into the moment, slightly mumbling, but still loud and clear enough for everyone to hear.

The female member shrugged, "I don't know... it could be. Why would-"

"You don't actually believe that!" From the other end, Vernon's voice rang through the room as he pointed at the girl, his smile still wide as he had just calmed down from his laughing fit.

With wide eyes, Minnie snapped, "How would I know?!" Her exclaim got another round of laughter. "I don't know what they meant by that!"

"But this is perfect for you," Woozi's remark surprised her.

"For me?!" She exclaimed maybe just a little too loud as the members grinned at her. "Why for me?!" Chuckling nervously as she shifted in her seat.

Dokyeom decided to take the next word, all heads then fixed on him. "Isn't it because they want to see what you would be like if you were proposing to the person you love?"

Minnie was already opening her mouth to speak, but the maknae behind her beat her to it, pointing a finger at the main vocalist. "You wrote this, huh?"

"That's right." With no hesitation, DK raised his hand in defence, getting another round of laughter from all of them including their female member.

"Why would you want to see that?" Minnie giggled at him in slight confusion while the youngest member next to her had a hard time holding himself together once more.

"Because it's cute!" He defended himself.

Before anyone could say anything more to that, Hoshi jumped in.

"But... but isn't it a bit weird if Minnie does it?"

Her head immediately turned towards the '96 Liner. "Why?"

"Don't you think someone else should do it?" 

While everyone else seemed to have understood the implementation of his question, some smirking to themselves, others opening their mouths, ready to stop the discussion immediately, the female member glared at him.

"Why?! It's 2024, I could propose as well!" Taking clear offence in his statement. The members glanced at her in slight confusion before they realised that she had misunderstood him.

"Oh- no," he stuttered, "that's not what I-" Hoshi tried to explain, but was cut off by Mingyu's arm in front of him and a slight shake of his head. He understood. "Ah, yeah... sorry, you're right, Minnie," nodding at her. "Then please, propose."

A short second of silence passed before she opened her mouth again. 

"That's crazy..." She chuckled, looking around, trying not to let her eyes land on a specific person, knowing it would gain unwanted attention.

"You can decide to who," Dokyeom declared. "But it has to be romantic. Very romantic."

"OH, yes!"

"That's right!"

"It has to be genuine!"

Different loud hollers filled the room. Minnie sent a quick surprised facial expression into the camera, putting a piece of hair behind her ear while she waited for the voices to die down.

"It has to be?" She wondered, making her fellow '97 Liner nod, along with the other members, who were grinning widely.

Suddenly, Mingyu's voice reached their ears. "Ya... Isn't that a bit much?" Tilting his head with a somewhat smile at the guys who were now looking at him.

"But she gets to choose the member she does it to," Seungkwan replied. "So it won't be weird." Hoping to end the topic of conversation right there.

"Okay, I can do that. I think...," she giggled, "but you guys are weird." Getting a soft chuckle from the members next to her in response.

Joshua was next to reveal his possible penalty.

"I want to see you reveal your abs at our concert." The reactions came immediately.

Throwing her head bag together with Dino, Minnie couldn't hide her amusement, laughing loudly together with the maknae as they held onto each other.

Hoshi let out a loud "Woooo!" Getting even more chuckles out of the other members.

"I want to see that too!" Minnie's comment earned her a slap on the shoulder, making her lean into Joshua's side, laughing against his shoulder as he tried to brush her off.

An arm reached over her before snatching the piece of paper out of the oldest's grip.

"It's so obvious that it's Hoshi!" Dino pointed out the handwriting that clearly indicated who it came from. And the '96 Liner didn't even try to deny it, continuing to smile proudly.

-

Wonwoo had already taken a sneak peek at the folded paper before he revealed it to the room.

"For me," he started. "This is so Jun," getting a few chuckles in return. "I want to see you go skydiving."

But that thought was quickly denied as Jun spoke up from the other side,

"It's not me."

"Oh-," Dokyeom glanced over, "It's not you?" Making the other member shake his head.

Dino grinned. "If Minnie's wasn't already revealed, I would've thought it might be from her."

The girl stopped mid-sip she was about to take from her iced coffee, her eyebrows scrunched up immediately. But before she could say anything, Wonwoo replied,

"But this isn't her handwriting."

"And!" She exclaimed, looking over to her left, "I wouldn't do that to you."

"But to me?!" Mingyu shouted, earning himself a sarcastic smile and nod from the female member. With a scoff and shake of his head, he decided to quiet down again, getting a soft smack to his upper arm from Hoshi, who was grinning at the duo.

"Isn't it Hao maybe?" Minnie wondered after taking a closer look at the paper Wonwoo was holding up.

"Is it?" He asked himself out loud before turning to the member in question, "Is it you?"

Minghao was already smiling from ear to ear, nodding his head excitedly.

-

They moved on quickly, going through Dokyeom, who was challenged to eat 10,000 calories in a day, over to Seungkwan, who would have to buy hotpot for all the members of Seventeen - that was immediately debunked to come from Jun. He had even drawn a small picture of a hotpot serving, making the members chuckle in awe. Minghao's penalty was revealed to be a fitness photoshoot. The culprit was first to be thought to be Mingyu, but he quickly denied it, leaving the answer to remain anonymous.

After going through each member, they were finally able to move on to the game that would determine who would have to actually execute the penalty given to them. The production crew opted for a hat game the group had never played before, giving them a new challenge to face. Even after all these years and videos with the same crew members, they were still able to keep the idol group on their tippy toes.

Sitting in a circle on the floor, each of them was given a white hat, with one of them, at the beginning Wonwoo, wearing a red one. They would be singing the chorus of the all-so-beloved trot version of their newest title track 'God of Music' while moving the heads from the members in front of them onto their own ones, moving to the beat of the song. Whoever ended up with the hat by the end of the round, that either being by the end of the song or a mess-up from one of the members, would lose and eventually have to go through with the penalty they had pulled.

It started out smoothly, with Dokyeom starting to count the beat before everyone else joined in. But only after a few seconds, they had already run into their first mess-up, making them have to start from the top. And that was only the warm-up. For the second round, they decided to start by singing the chorus already, hoping it wouldn't mess up the rhythm all too much. But that was too much to hope for.

"Ya Mingyu-ya!" Jun exclaimed with a smile on his face. The '97 Liner giggled to himself, three hats stacked on his head, clearly showing who was to blame for another round they had to stop.

Minnie, sitting between Wonwoo and Woozi, turned around to snarl at the rapper, but couldn't hide her grin as she saw the amusement on his face.

"Get it together!" She giggled at him.

"Seriously!"

"Hey!" Joshua called out. He pointed at Hoshi, who not only had one white hat on top of his head but the red one as well.

"It's him!" The leader defended himself, straightening his back and turning around, taking off both hats before he shouted at the younger member. It was only then that he realised he was holding onto the red hat, a look of shock coming to his face in an instant.

As he at first started to blame Mingyu, all eyes were now on Hoshi, pointing fingers and shouting at him.

"No, no," he tried to defend himself, "this isn't it! This isn't right!"

"You're holding the red hat!" Minnie threw at him, followed by a chuckle that made her lean forward, resting her forehead on the 58cm shoulders in front of her.

"B-But I-" Mingyu stuttered as he explained himself, "I was doing it normally like 'one, two, one, two'," counting the beat out loud when he pointed at Joshua behind him, "But you weren't taking them! So I kept on putting more and more hats on." Amid his rant, Hoshi placed the hats he had worn just merely seconds ago, onto the '97 Liner's head.

"No!" He took them off, "It's not my fault!"

He continued to try to explain his side of the situation, only getting giggles and chuckles from the other members in return as they continued to find nothing but humour in the moment. Hoshi was nodding along to his words, completely dismissing the fact that he had technically lost the round, and pretended to agree with everything the younger member was saying.

In true Seventeen fashion, the members had started to randomly stand up, making a bigger scene of their exclaims. After Mingyu was finished with the details of his story, Joshua tried to explain himself while the others seemed to have already been on Mingyu's side.

Finally, everyone agreed, that TECHNICALLY, Hoshi would've lost the round, but due to the circumstances and confusion, they opted to play another round, hoping for the best. They couldn't just let the video end without getting the entire chorus right at least once. With big gestures, Dokyeom and Seungkwan clarified the rules one last time, clearing up most of the confusion that was left in the room, before they sat down in a circle again.

"Woah...," Minnie sighed out loud, "This is so much fun." Drumming with her hands on Wonwoo's back.

"Right?" Joshua nodded at her excitedly.

"But now I'm nervous that I'm gonna mess it up," she whined with a chuckle, suddenly feeling a comforting palm on her leg. Wonwoo had reached behind him,

"It's okay," giving her knee a few pats before he retreated his hand to get back in position to start the next and final round.

-

Only a few seconds after the producers had put on the song, the hat order was already messed up. Hastily, the members threw around the ones they had too much to the others that didn't have one anymore, quickly wanting to get back to finish the chorus in unity. Starting again, they were forced to break it up after two seconds, coming to the realisation that lifting the hats and shaking them was throwing off most of the members, causing a chain reaction of issues to happen within the circle. Minghao asked to just let out that one move, but Dokyeom was too motivated to get it right. He whined out loud, begging for everyone to finally get it right so they could move on.

Deciding that it might be easier if they sang the song themselves instead of listening to it through the speakers, the game started for the last and final time. Singing at a slower BPM than the original, they found it much easier to keep up with the hat switch. That was until Minnie was trying to grab the white hat from Wonwoo, but couldn't quite get it off at the right time. He moved the red hat from Dino onto his own head, stacking it on top of the white one that Minnie was still holding as she was about to take it off.

"IT'S WONWOO!" The members clapped in glee. With a loud laughter, the girl fell forward, her hands and forehead resting on Wonwoo's back.

"I'm sorry!" She called out as the rapper turned around to glance at her, his lips curved up to an amused smile. "I'm sorry," she patted his shoulder, still giggling, so her excuse was hard to take seriously.

"WONWOO, WONWOO," Seungkwan continued to chant.

"What was Wonwoo's?" Dokyeom wanted to know.

The rapper held up the red hat proudly. "Skydiving," getting a louder round of claps and hollers in response.

"I wrote that!" Minghao announced with a big smile, taking the '96 Liner's hand into his.

While some members wondered whether or not it was fun to send him skydiving, Minnie felt a poke to her back, making her turn around.

"He lost because of you, right?" Woozi sneakily grinned at her.

With a shy smile, she nodded, running a hand through her hair, "But I didn't do it on purpose. I couldn't get the hat off." She explained while demonstrating the situation.

"At least he won't hold a grudge against you," the producer told her, but Minnie shook her head with wide eyes,

"I wouldn't say that," getting a chuckle out of him. "I'm serious!" She exclaimed as Woozi had pushed himself up to stand. At that same moment, Mingyu passed the duo, coming to a halt to hold a hand out for her to take and to pull her up on her feet. Just as she reached out and was about to place her palm into his, he suddenly pulled his hand away. A giggle escaped Minnie's lips as she leaned forward, smacking his legs with an exclaim. Her fellow '97 Liner joined her chuckles, getting a hold on her elbow to actually pull her up.

Just before the two went to their designated places, Mingyu brushed a hand over her head, earning him a slight nudge to his side.

Taglist: @waosobii @chaebb @lunarxsun @hoe4wonwoo @kimhyejin3108 @soobzao @billboard-singer @cosmicwintr @zwiehe @alixnsuperstxr @angie-x3 @smooore @allthings-fandoms @lllucere

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Howdy, so I don't know if you have seen The Last of Us, but if you have, you know the scene where Joel saves Ellie from the hospital and he just ploughs through everyone and its like wow -///-

I just think it would be a really cool like drabble if this was a Din x reader fic? Only if you wanted to write it though!! Also I'm so happy that I'm on your taglist for inevitable because I jump to read it every time that I see that I've been tagged, it has me in a chokehold and the way that you write the reader is so damn good.

Your writing is something that brings comfort to me every week, and the way you interact and talk to your followers is so sweet. I love coming back from a stressful day to sit down somewhere comfortable to enjoy your work.

Anyways thanks for reading this ramble of an ask and I hope that you're doing well :)

[a/n]: combining some stuff here! this is for the anon who asked for this scene AND for @cockscombkingdom who asked for a fic in Din's POV where he takes care of reader and keeps her safe. I started with the plan to make this very sweet and fluffy and I'm not gonna lie a little darkness seeped into it. my bad.

also in case it isn't abundantly clear i am a joel miller apologist thx

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, injuries, mild dark!din (if you squint and/or have a problem with murder)

Word Count: 1,440

Summary: You were selfless. You gave and you gave and you gave. The universe planned to only take more, but Din Djarin would be damned if he let it.

LOOK FOR THE LIGHT

.

"you'd just come after her." -Joel Miller (TLOU)

.

Din was worried about you. He was always worried about you because you were always on his mind. It couldn’t be helped. Somebody had to because it seemed like you were perpetually too worried about everyone else. Din admired that about you. He always had. You went out of your way to help anyone and everyone who approached. You had a heart that was always willing to give, and it left you too little to use for yourself.

When the two of you first began traveling together, he noticed that about you. Sometimes you’d get so preoccupied watching Grogu you’d forget to eat. Peli had once put you to work, organizing her tools as part of the payment to fix the Razor Crest, and you had been so focused on getting the work done well that you had taken no breaks and ended up dehydrated and weak under Tatooine’s hot suns. It’s why the mission he was delivering you to made such simple sense to him. You were special, is what you told him. Din knew you were special, felt it, but it was for very different reasons. According to you, there was something in your blood, some type of cell, that could cure a lot of people of some terrible, terrible disease spreading through a world in the Outer Rim.

Din tried to keep his distance from you. Tried to not get attached. But you were so selfless, that it naturally brought out his protective side. He couldn't help but care for you, but caring for you as a responsibility had quickly turned to loving you along the way. Din didn’t know a lot about love. Didn’t have much experience with it, lust was easier to grasp, and that left him confused most of the time. Din had no idea how to express what he felt for you, how to explain it in words, so he did the only thing he could do. Din took care of you. Kept you safe when he stopped to pick up quarries, made sure you remembered to eat and drink water, reminded you to go to bed and when you would eventually forget anyways he’d carry you there himself. Din didn't know what love was supposed to feel like, but what he did know was that being without you made his heart physically ache and protecting you brought him happiness. 

Maybe that’s all he needed to know.

‘It’ll be okay.’ You had promised him with a smile that made your features glow. ‘Shouldn’t take long.’

That had been hours ago. Din delivered you to the medical facility as he had been hired, but when you hadn’t come back out he sought after you. It’s why he now sat in a small room, Imperials flanking the door, as he simmered in disdain. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

“Mandalorian.” A man stepped into the room. A doctor from the looks of it with thin, round rimmed glasses. The name ‘Pershing’ pinned to his lapel. Din stayed silent. “I was under the impression that you had been paid. Was there an issue?”

“No.” Din replied. “Where is she?”

Dr. Pershing paused and shook his head as if confused. Din tilted his head a bit, an obvious threat in body language, and the doctor was smart enough to realize this. He nervously cleared his throat. “She is being prepared for her operation.” Din narrowed his eyes in confusion. You told him they’d just need your blood. “There is no reason for you to stay.”

“I promised her a ride back.”

There was a tense silence that filled the room at his words. Din watched the doctor squirm where he stood and he needed no further clarification. He shoved up from the table, prepared for a fight, when the Imperials leveled their own weapons at him before he could reach his blaster.

Dr. Pershing held his hands up in a placating manner. “She will be a hero. After we drain her of all her blood, we can make a cure. There’s a 65% chance this will work and save the people of this world.” Din was fuming under his armor. Drain your blood? They were going to kill you. They were going to kill you for something that only had a 65% chance of even working. “She will not be in pain! She’s been put under! She will not feel a thing, and we did not scare her with the news.” Din staggered back as if he had been physically hit. Was this man saying… Dr. Pershing confirmed Din’s thoughts. “We did not tell her this would kill her. We spared her that misery. She went under anesthesia peacefully.”

The words echoed in Din’s head loudly. As if a bomb had gone off right beside him and left him deaf and blind. He walked on autopilot as the Imperials escorted him through the building toward the exit. They were going to kill you. They were going to kill you for a shot in the dark cure. Din was literally paces to the door when his boots stilled. The Imperials shoved him, tried to get him to move, threatened to shoot him, and then Din snapped.

With the practiced precision of a bounty hunter and Mandalorian who spent most of his life in a fight, Din spun and cut down the Imperials in one swift movement. The darksaber glowed angry in his hands, casting threatening shadows down the hall. Never before had the sword worked so well for him, but as Din marched through the facility it was practically an extension of himself. Blaster fire pinged off his beskar and he did not hesitate. If a person stepped into his path he eliminated them. Cold. Ruthless. A predator. Din stalked the medical facility searching for you, and he left a wake of death and destruction in his path.

When he finally caught sight of you, through a window into some kind of clean room. Din felt his heart flutter in his chest. The first twinge of emotion since starting this rampage. It was a reminder of why he was doing this. A reminder that his actions were necessary.

Din stormed into the room, his eyes not leaving your unconscious form as you laid on a table in a hospital gown. The staff in the room panicked in a flurry, and one of them⏤ maybe the doctor maybe a nurse, Din didn’t even register who the kriff it was⏤ rushed him in a poor attempt to stop this onslaught. Din cut them down without blinking. Without taking his eyes off of you. The second you were in his arms, Din felt marginally settled. He wasn’t going to lose you, couldn’t lose you. Din had sworn to himself that he’d take care of you, it was all he knew how to do, and he wasn’t going to stop for the sake of anyone.

Not even the sake of a world.

As Din carried you out of the building it occurred to him that he may be dooming an entire population of people. This world’s chances of survival were dropping from 65% to 0%. He knew that he should care. He knew that this information should bother him. That it should make his steps more hesitant and make his chest ache in indecision, but it didn’t. His choice had never been more clear to him. It was either this world or you. Din was choosing you. He’d always choose you.

When back on the ship, Din had only carried you a few steps when gasping could be heard. He turned around to see Dr. Pershing at the end of the ramp holding a blaster at him. The man was breathing hard, face red, as if he had sprinted all the way here to stop this from happening. Din had to admire his dedication. The man believed in this cause so much he was willing to go head to head with a Mandalorian who had just single handedly cleared out a medical facility. 

“I can’t let you do this.” Dr. Pershing snapped. “You’re dooming this world if you take her!”

A blaster fired. Dr. Pershing stumbled back, a hole in his chest, and Din held his blaster firm in his hand. Your legs draped over that arm had hidden his weapon well. A strangled gasp left the man’s lips and he collapsed into a motionless pile. Din shook his head, responding to a dead man’s words, “I don’t care.”

Din would protect you under any and all circumstances.

 Was that love?

[maraschinomerry]

Little Pink Heart

Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader, implied Locklyle

Summary: following a fatal Ghost-Touch, Lockwood and reader must figure out how to manage love and life after death

Content: reader's death, ghost!reader, grief, angst, bittersweet, not a happy ending, established relationship

A/N: Please please be aware that this fic has some very heavy content, don't feel obliged to read if you could find it upsetting! That being said, this is as much about exploring the concept of Visitors' sentience that Jonathan Stroud introduced and building on what we saw with Annabel Ward as it is about the angst and the grief. This is dedicated to @bella-rose29 for mentioning the idea of ghost!reader and giving me inspiration (bonus angst: listen to Someone New by Freya Ridings while you read)

Word count: 4.9k (my longest fic yet!)

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea (let me know if you want adding or removing!)

The click of the key echoed through the house as you opened the door. Dusk was falling, the fine mist that had settled tinted a soft blue. As much as you didn't want to go inside, you fancied staying out here less.

“Don't linger, darling,” your boyfriend, Anthony, murmured as he passed over the threshold. His hand slipped into yours and he led you in. The house was cold and dim in the fading light, and from the fine layer of dust and lack of personal effects it was clear that it hadn't been inhabited for some time. It was a shame that the owner, who had seemed like a nice enough young woman, had had to move out of her family home, but you couldn't help but be grateful. You and Anthony had only just got your licences, and with no links to any agencies nor desires to join them you'd decided to try and set up your own. That took time, though, and money, and though Anthony had a little equity in his house you'd agreed to take a couple of small, private cases to make up as much as you could. That was how you found yourself here, ready to earn a reasonable sum in exchange for eliminating a lone Type Two. A few jobs like this would help set you up nicely.

The kitchen was slightly warmer than the rest of the house, the west-facing windows having allowed in the last of the sun before it dipped behind the trees in the distance. Together you set up your kit bags on the table - you didn't have much: a few handmade salt bombs, filings and chains, a few flares only in case of emergency (they'd cost far too much to waste) and of course your rapiers. Lockwood pulled something extra from his bag, a small plastic-wrapped packet. Bourbon biscuits.

“You're the best,” you smiled as he opened the packet and offered one to you, which you bit into quickly.

“I know,” he grinned back, brushing a stray crumb from your lip. You blushed.

The owner of the house had provided a floor plan, but her account of the Visitor had been so inconsistent and vague that it was difficult to pinpoint a possible location for the Source. Anthony spread the roll of paper across the table, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, peering over his shoulder at the diagram. There were two floors and a basement, but the latter had been gutted a month ago ready for renovation so there was nothing in there at present.

“Let's start upstairs and work our way back down,” Anthony suggested. “More likely to find something in one of the bedrooms.”

“True, but it's a lot of wasted time if we don't. Why don't we split up and take a floor each?”

His expression soured, and he moved closer, taking your hand again and rubbing small anxious circles above your thumb. “That's smart, but I hate the idea of leaving you on your own.” Even when he didn't agree with your ideas, he always found a way to compliment them. Just one of the things that made you love him all the more.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “It won't be for long, and I'll call for you the moment I find anything suspicious.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You leant forward and placed your lips delicately on his. He held you close, your hands on his chest, one of his on your waist and the other fidgeting with your necklace. It was one he'd bought for you, a small pink gemstone in a heart shape on a simple silver chain. His promise to always love and protect you. Not a day had gone by since that you didn't wear it. He nodded at last; he knew he would, he'd do anything you asked of him in a heartbeat. It still worried him not to be by your side, but he trusted that you were a good agent who could handle yourself and that you meant it when you said you'd call for him. His only condition was that if the Source was more likely to be upstairs, that would be where he'd look.

So it was that you found yourself, torch in one hand and the other on your rapier, exploring the ground floor. The silence was oppressive, seeping the confidence from you with every step. Not a ticking clock, not the creaking of the old building settling, not even the residual hum of electricity or plumbing, just the occasional thud from your boyfriend upstairs. Working quickly, you ruled out the dining room and bathroom. That left the lounge. The air smelled musty, and a shiver ran through you as you entered. That was never a good sign. You pulled out your thermometer and watched the temperature drop the further in you went.

“Anthony?” Your voice felt deafening against the quiet of the room, but you knew it hadn't been anywhere near loud enough to travel upstairs. No, this was silly, you could handle this. There were no signs of a spirit yet, for all you knew the change in temperature could be from the wind blowing down the chimney into the empty fireplace. You flicked the torch off, using your now free hand to hold your necklace, grounding yourself as you tuned in and listened. There was nothing at first. You wondered whether Anthony was having more luck upstairs; so far down here had been thoroughly useless. Maybe you should go and check on him. But then you heard it. A tragic, gut-wrenching wail, getting closer.

“Anthony?” you called again, louder this time but as steady as you could. There was movement above. He'd heard. So had the spirit, the wailing definitely nearby now. You pulled out your rapier.

The temperature plummeted.

A screech, so close you would have felt the breath on your neck had it come from a living being, made you whirl round. Your rapier clattered to the floor. Shit. Stay calm.

“Anthony!” you yelled, not caring how scared you sounded. His footsteps rattled down the stairs. He was so close.

You lunged towards your rapier.

The Visitor lunged towards you.

Lockwood was in the back bedroom when he heard his name. All his senses were immediately on high alert - you were the only person he allowed to call him Anthony, so he always reacted differently to his first name anyway, and under the circumstances hearing it immediately made him fear the worst.

“Y/n?” He crept out onto the landing, slowly pulling out his rapier and listening intently for any more noise. It was moments like these he was grateful not to be a Listener, he could focus on you and not the sounds of the house's history. He was only two steps onto the staircase when his name came again, louder and more panicked. Without a second thought he ran down the stairs, only holding back enough to make sure he didn't fall. His blood ran cold when he heard you scream.

You tried to both duck and spin as your hand came into contact with the hilt of your rapier. The blade sliced upwards, connecting with the Visitor, but it was too late. Its clawing grey hand clutched onto your shoulder moments before it disappeared. You screamed as tendrils of ice shot through you, radiating outwards from the spot. Through the fog of pain that had suddenly engulfed your brain you heard Anthony, close by now, yelling your name. You had to go to him. He'd know what to do. Everything would be okay.

You took one step, then another. Your torso was going numb, your entire arm having already fallen victim to the plasm which was turning your shoulder a violent shade of blue. One more step, and your legs gave out. You just about made out the silhouette of your boyfriend in the doorway, rushing towards you as you slumped to the ground.

“No, no, no, y/n!” Anthony's face swam into view, trying to mask his utter horror for your sake. “It's going to be okay, darling, I'll go and get help.”

The fingers of your good hand twitched towards his and he took it immediately, despite how cold it was. You struggled to focus on him through your tears, and noticed the same in his eyes. “Ant-” Your voice was failing fast.

“Shh, I've got you.” He cradled your head, his own tears mingling with yours on your cheek, but you could barely feel them. Almost everything was numb. The blue had spread across your chest, and the little pink heart stood out starkly against it. “I'm so sorry, my darling,” Lockwood said softly. He choked back a sob as he leant down, placing a kiss into your hair. You wanted to do the same, to speak to him, to do anything.

His face was the last thing you saw before everything went black.

—

You had no idea how much time had passed when your vision returned, a room slowly materialising in front of your eyes. It was a bedroom, filled with knick-knacks and bathed in a warm golden light. It looked familiar, but you hadn't been here when it went dark, you'd been… somewhere else. It was so hard to remember, but you knew there had been a dark, dusty room and a feeling of agonising cold. And a person. There'd been someone there, someone you needed to say something to. Now here you were, everything feeling so normal yet so bizarre; you were still you, still able to move and see and hear, but there was a disconnect between those sensations and reality. Nothing felt real. You looked around again, desperate for answers.

There.

Perched on the edge of the bed was a boy. His crisp white shirt was a stark contrast to his dishevelled dark hair, doleful brown eyes and the deep eyebags beneath. He looked exhausted, like he'd barely slept or eaten. There was something in his hand, balanced carefully on the tips of his fingers: a necklace, with a little pink heart. A spark of recognition bloomed in the back of your mind. That was your necklace. It was important. He had no right to be holding it. You drifted forward. The boy looked so familiar. Oh. The icy feeling rippled through your chest again, and you remembered. He'd been there when that feeling had taken over your body until you couldn't feel anything else. Rage boiled in your veins, and a snarl crept onto your face. But then, as quickly as it started, the anger subsided. He'd not caused it. He'd held you so gently, cried as everything faded. You knew him. You opened your mouth, finally ready to speak.

Lockwood stared at the tiny gemstone in his hand, unsure whether he wanted anything to happen this time. He'd secretly slipped it from you before DEPRAC had arrived, and spent the past few weeks periodically taking it out of the little silver-glass box in his bedside table. Part of him desperately wanted you to come back, to let him see you once more, but the other part knew it would hurt so much. What if you didn't recognise him and turned violent like so many Visitors? What if you didn't because you didn't recognise anything, just hung there as a shadow of your former self? What if you did, and he had to live with putting you back in the case and removing you from his life all over again?

The decision was made for him when a soft golden glow appeared in the corner of his bedroom. There you were. Tears welled in his eyes as the image of you sent him spiralling back to that day: your edges were a little fuzzy but everything else was the same, from your outfit to the scared look in your eye to the dark patch spreading from your shoulder. You looked at him now and he was relieved to watch you processing your surroundings. The person he knew was still in there, you weren't just a hollow shell. Suddenly you snarled and he flinched, fingers twitching towards the silver-glass case.

You moved closer.

You stopped.

Your face fell.

He watched the glimmer of recognition in your eyes, and the tears he'd been holding back spilled out along with all the things he'd wanted to say for months.

“Oh my darling, I'm so sorry. I should never have let this happen, I should have been there for you, and-”

He paused. You were mouthing something. Over and over. Your death loop, he presumed. God, just putting death in the same sentence as you stung.

“I'd give anything to be able to hear you right now,” he said, voice wavering. You stopped, giving him a sad look. The realisation that at the very least you could understand him, even if you couldn't communicate fully, hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Lockwood!” a boy's voice called from outside. You both looked at the door and your anger flared again. The boy on the bed shook his head.

“He's a friend,” he told you reassuringly, before calling back, “One minute, George!” You waited in the corner, puzzled. The boy, Lockwood (you knew that name, didn't you?), gave you an apologetic look. “I'm sorry, y/n, I've got to go. I'll explain soon, I promise.” He dropped the necklace into its little case and clicked it shut, and you watched the world dissolve.

—

You still weren't sure how much time had passed when you found yourself back in that bedroom, but it didn't feel like very long. The last rays of the sunset poked through the gaps around the drawn curtains, the room lit instead by a lamp on the bedside table. The boy, Lockwood, was sitting on the bed again holding your necklace, but this time he looked at you almost immediately. His hair was a little neater, his eyebags more pronounced.

“Hi,” he said quietly. “Sorry if I disturbed you, I don't… really know how this works.”

You knew he couldn't hear you, but you gave your message again anyway.

“Maybe I should see if George knows how to lip-read,” he chuckled wryly. The sound reminded you of home, wherever that was. Things were still hazy, but part of you had a feeling this was it. Here, with this boy. “Which reminds me,” he continued, “I did promise to tell you about him.”

You settled into the space in the corner, allowing Lockwood's low, gentle voice to wash over you. It was incredibly calming. George was his new housemate, he told you, who'd been living here for about a month. It was all very confusing - it had felt like both minutes and years had passed since you were last here and the same before that, but he explained that the other boy had moved into the house in mid-September, and the last time you'd been here was a week ago in late October. Where was all the time going?

“I have no idea whether you experience time when your Source is contained, whether you're aware of what's going on in between or remember things from last time,” he admitted. Source. You knew about those. They were what you'd been looking for that night in that dark old house. A spirit had been tied to it, and you had to seal the Source to get rid of it. But you'd failed and it had found you, and now… your chest tightened at both the memory and the realisation. Nothing felt real because you weren't. You were just a Visitor. You continued to listen numbly as Lockwood kept talking. Not much wonder he'd recoiled when you first appeared, he'd seen what the touch of a ghost had done to you and without knowing you'd almost inflicted the same fate. You vowed in that moment that no matter what, you'd never let that happen.

The next few months saw Lockwood getting you out every chance he got. Bit by bit, he helped restore your memories and did his best to accommodate you even though the two of you couldn't properly communicate. He set up a little daily tear-off calendar on his dresser so you could keep track of how long it had been between visits, and stored his kit bag in the bottom of his wardrobe so you could move more freely around the room. Eventually, you'd come to remember him more. Not just the events from the night you died, but him. Your boyfriend, Anthony. You wanted nothing more than to be close to him, to be a comforting presence, but you knew you couldn't. Not only because you couldn't touch, but because deep down you knew that as much as you treasured being able to keep him in your life (or rather, afterlife), you had to let him go sooner or later and he needed to do the same with you. He'd been followed around by grief since long before you met him, and you hated that you were adding to it. You were just glad to see him slowly improving week by week - his face was a little brighter, and it seemed George was making sure he stayed fed. You'd have to thank the other boy if you ever got chance. Anthony said the two of you would have got along if you'd met in life, and even now George's obsession with the Problem would have made him your biggest fan, but their friendship was too new and besides he wasn't a Listener either so you'd not be able to tell him anything.

“I've got something to show you,” Anthony announced as you materialised one sunny day in late spring. He sat down with a large pink folder and patted the space next to him on the bed. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Come on,” he sighed fondly, “you never had any sense of personal space before, don't start now. Just no hugging.”

You glowed a little brighter and drifted over, your legs disappearing into the mattress until your torso was level with his. Being careful where he positioned his arms, he angled the folder towards you. It was a photo album, labelled in handwriting you recognised as your own. Page by page, he took you through your memories, giving you time to linger on each one: you as a baby, then a toothy toddler with your first pet; your family and childhood friends; Polaroids of your first team in training to become agents. His hands trembled a little as he reached the next section. On the left were four photos: the team you'd transferred to, the one he'd been training with; a slightly blurry action shot of the two of you sparring for the first time; a goofy photo he'd taken of you cartwheeling down a grassy hill after a case; your team all proudly holding their Grade Four licences. On the other side, surrounded by two styles of hand-drawn hearts, was the two of you hugging on the steps of 35 Portland Row, Anthony's lips pressed in a smile against the top of your head. You remembered that sensation well, a frequent occurrence right up until the moment you died. The rest of the album was full of photos of the two of you, ones taken by others and candids you'd snapped of each other. You felt a pang of regret that you'd never get to take any more.

Anthony turned another page. Hold on. You knew for certain there were no more photos. You looked sideways at your boyfriend, and he gave you a bashful smile. Pasted across a double spread was a copy of a certificate from DEPRAC, confirming A.J. Lockwood & Co Investigators as a registered agency. Inspector Barnes, who you vaguely recalled meeting once or twice, had signed as the licensing authority. Anthony and George had put their names down as the founding members. But then underneath that, in Anthony's familiar hand, he had added an extra section. Honorary Member: y/n y/l/n.

He looked at you so lovingly. “We did it, darling.”

You would have reached for his hand if you could.

—

Weeks began to pass before Lockwood got you to visit again. He'd have spent every day with you, but business was good and he owed it to you to make a proper go of it. In the meantime, George talked incessantly about Visitors which gave Lockwood a chance to think about you. Each time he finally got to see you again he'd apologise profusely, and you'd repeat your death loop back to him. He tried so hard to figure out what you were saying - his Sight was good, you were as clear as day and he knew your every quirk and mannerism, but he just couldn't put the movements of your lips to the right sounds.

Everything changed the day he met Lucy Carlyle. From the moment she set foot in his living room, he felt like he was supposed to have met her. The feeling only grew when he gave her the interview tests - plenty of people had passed through, some with better Talents than others, but none had come even close to the Listening abilities of the girl before him. When she spoke of the gentleness she found in his uncle's pen-knife, he knew he had to hire her.

Lucy managed to defy even his high expectations on the Annabel Ward case. He kept his focus on the young woman's spirit hovering at the end of the corridor, rapier levelled in case the details of her aggressive nature were true, but he couldn't help but think of the first day he brought you back and how quickly you'd retreated and shown a level of sentience he'd never expected from a Visitor. Was this poor woman the same? Lucy's eyes were closed, listening intently.

“She's in pain,” she said softly.

“Of course she is, she's dead.”

“No, something's different.”

He was intrigued instantly. “What's different?”

She shushed him. “I can almost…”

Annabel launched forward, sending Lucy crashing through the wooden railing in her attempt to dodge the grasping hand. Déjà vu overwhelmed Lockwood, your pained eyes flashing across his mind as he staggered backwards.

No.

He'd already lived through this once and regretted the outcome every day since. Now was his chance to redeem himself. He sprang towards the ghost, fending her off with his rapier, pulling Lucy from her desperate grip on the picture frame as soon as the coast was clear.

“Did it touch you?” he asked in a panic as she clung to him.

“Course not, I'd be dead.” Didn't he know it. The more she explained how she'd connected with the spirit, the more sure he became. Later, when they experimented with Annabel's necklace and he listened to Lucy describe the scene in such detail, he knew for certain.

“He loves me. You love me, don't you?” Her hand stroked delicately across his cheek, and he fought the urge to lean into the touch. For that brief moment, he could pretend it was you, still with him, saying those words. Perhaps with Lucy's help, it could be.

—

It had been a while. The trees outside Anthony's window were tinted a beautiful copper. You couldn't wait to hear his updates this time.

“There's a sadness, but so much love too. She feels very kind.” That wasn't Anthony's voice. Something was wrong. There was a girl sitting beside him on the bed, holding a little pink heart on a chain. Your necklace. You grew defensive, preparing to strike.

The boy looked up and saw you glaring. “It's okay, darling.” The girl followed his gaze. “Lucy, this is y/n, my late girlfriend. Y/n, this is our new associate, Lucy. She's a Listener.” Ah. Finally. You settled back down and took in the girl properly. She was pretty, with a warm brunette bob and a blue jumper which made her eyes pop. She smiled up at you, a genuine friendly smile.

“Nice to meet you,” she said sweetly. Anthony gave her an encouraging nod. You noticed that he seemed a little nervous, but there was also a calmness to him that had been missing for the past year. If that was Lucy's influence, then she was alright in your eyes.

Anthony spoke to you again. “She's brilliant, connected with a Visitor on our last case and I thought maybe she could finally help us figure out what you've been trying to say.” You nodded in agreement, and the girl closed her hand around the necklace.

You weren't sure whether you were in Lucy's head or whether she was in yours. The two of you blended into one as she ventured into your memories. Anthony's room melted away around you, sending you back to that cold dark room. You bristled.

“It's a bit different having her in the room with us,” Lucy murmured, eyes closed. “Let me know if either of you need me to stop.”

Anthony glanced at you, flickering slightly but still present and unagitated. “We're okay, go on.”

Meticulously, she described what you were both experiencing, or in your case reliving. It was hard knowing you were getting closer to the agony all over again, but it was important for your boyfriend to finally have a chance for answers and closure, so you kept the inevitable moving along.

“Anthony?” Lucy said softly, the same way you had. By the look on his face, it seemed he was realising now what you had at the time - that you'd tried to call him and hadn't been loud enough, that if only you'd tried again straight away, maybe you'd still be alive. “Anthony?” she called again. “Anthony!” You heard your own scream echo in your mind, felt the cold grasping your shoulder. The boy reached out and gripped Lucy's free hand, never taking his eyes off you. The gesture was supportive for her, but meant for you too. A tear rolled down his cheek. Lucy's breathing was shallow.

“It hurts,” she gasped, “and she's scared.”

“I should have been there quicker.” His voice was shaking with emotion, barely able to get the words out.

“No, there's no anger. She knew you were coming, and having you there through the end was a comfort.”

Anthony swallowed thickly. “Her death loop. Can you hear it?”

She opened her eyes and watched you as you spoke, the words spilling from her lips a second after.

“It's okay. It's not your fault.”

The boy broke down, his sobs rattling through the small room. Lucy held out her arms and he folded into them. She threw you an apologetic glance, and you said it again to her. “It's okay. It's not your fault.”

They were still hugging when, with his and your permission, Lucy gently slipped your necklace back into its case.

—

Now that the secret was out, you really did become an honorary member of the agency. Sure, you couldn't exactly contribute to the cases, but other than that the whole team treated you as one of their own. Anthony always waited for your opinion on big decisions, which you could make quite apparent with how happy or angry your energy was. George was absolutely fascinated by you, and took every opportunity to quiz the others on your awareness of various things and how you reacted to his experiments. Lucy often got you out on her own to have another girl to talk to. In return, of course, she'd fill you in on any gossip they came across or funny things that happened on cases that the boys were too embarrassed to tell you about. Through it all, you watched the three of them grow into a little family. Anthony and Lucy especially had clicked with each other; they reminded you of how you and he had been. That realisation filled you with a mixture of relief and melancholy. You loved Anthony so much, all you wanted was for him to be happy, but you'd be lying if you didn't wish it was you putting the light back in his eyes.

He sat you down shortly after New Year. His face was sombre but hopeful, and he fidgeted with his ring. Part of you could already tell what was coming.

“I don't really know how to say this,” he began hesitantly, “but after everything we've been through, you deserve to hear it.” You waited patiently for him to find the words he needed. Really, you had all the time in the world.

After a few moments, he spoke again. “I promised to always love you, and I will still keep that promise until the day I die…” But. There had to be a but. “...but I really care about Lucy too, and I just-” He didn't need to finish the sentence. And technically he was single. And he stood a chance of having a life with her. And she wasn't going to keep him tied to his past and his grief.

“It's okay.” Now he knew what your death loop was, he could tell what you'd said, and the way you'd limited it to just those words was a reminder of how remarkably well you understood everything that was happening. How you were as close to being a person as you could be, how it wasn't close enough.

“Promise?”

You touched the hollow of your neck, where the outline of a little sparkling heart sat against the darkness.

He nodded in understanding and reached for the silver-glass case. “Thank you, darling.”

“It's okay.”

It's not your fault.

[tiny-1karus]

Pairing: Yandere Batfam (Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian) x Reader

TW: GRAPHIC domestic and verbal abuse (but not by the batboys) so please take this warning seriously, stealing, feels, background manipulative behavior, obsession

This is a hurt-comfort fic about a fem Cinderella-esque Reader who wants to move away and yandere!batfam's reaction and response to that. Btw, Damian is around the same age as the Reader here and they are both in university.

There are some dark themes but the hurt-comfort is the main focus. This is technically part 2 but can be read as a standalone. Enjoy!

Just a warning though, this is a 6k+ fic that almost got to 7k. I got carried away lol.

…

"It would be nice to get out of the city."

You were looking out the window with a pensive expression as you said this. You were currently in the Wayne manor's dining room eating lunch with all the Wayne men. You had just finished your lunch (after fighting off numerous attempts to add more food onto your plate with your fork) and was quietly sitting in the large dining table sandwiched between Damian and Tim as you waited for the others to finish eating. You hadn't meant to say it aloud, you were just musing to yourself as you daydreamed, but everyone in the room heard it regardless.

All of the men immediately perked up, albeit in varying degrees.

"You mean, like a vacation?" Dick asked across from you with a smile. You certainly deserved it, after all.

You shook your head with a chuckle as you leaned into your palm with a wistful smile. "Maybe something more permanent than that. Anywhere would do. Maybe out of the country too, who knows?"

Everyone frowned as they immediately picked up on your phrasing. They couldn't help the growing feeling of dread in the pit of their stomach as they began to fear the worst.

Tim cleared his throat with a strained smile. "Permanent?"

You turned to him with a bright and eager grin. "Yeah! Can you just imagine it? I finally get to build the life I've always wanted. Away from—" your smile faltered as your mind drifted to your family but you immediately picked up your smile, you didn't want to worry them after all. "—… From the city and all that. I could get an apartment, get a better job, the whole shebang!" You wiggled a bit in excitement, totally oblivious to the darkening moods of the people around you. You were too caught up in the prospect of a better life away from your miserable family to notice the downright frightening expressions of the men around you.

Of course, it was a few years away but 3 years compared to the hell you've endured your whole life? It wasn't even a competition.

You beamed at everyone even when they stayed uncharacteristically silent, you got the feeling that something felt a bit off with them but their faces gave nothing away so you wrote it off. "Don't worry guys! I'll be sure to get you all nice gifts once I'm rich and famous. The best on this side of the continent and what money can afford, of course!" You tried to flip your hair but immediately laughed at that. The very idea of you gifting one of the richest man alive and his family the best of anything with practically nothing was so laughable that it was silly. You covered your mouth as you giggled uncontrollably. Even if you saved up for the rest of your life, you doubted that you could ever gift them anything worth of value or that could match their status and taste. Maybe it was just as funny to them as it was to you.

But the entire room was dead silent.

You missed the alarmed looks and rapid silent communication that occurred between all the men in the room while you snickered to yourself.

Damian had a fierce glare as he clenched his fork so tightly his knuckles turned white, he had to fight the urge to stab something. Dick immediately reached out discreetly to Jason, who sat next to him, and gripped his arm in warning even as he struggled to remain calm himself. Jason shoved his shaking hands under the table and balled them into tight fists as he grappled with a sudden surge of anger, fear, love, confusion. It was a struggle to keep his rationality at the moment if not for Dick's steadying grip on his arm. Tim wasn't faring any better as he sat there with a growing sense of anxiety as he looked stricken, as if you had just killed a puppy in front of him.

Deep inside, they could all feel a gnawing sense of nausea and panic clawing up from their stomach up to their head as they fought to control it. They never would have expected this of you.

Why didn't you want to stay?

Bruce was the only one who seemed unaffected by the sudden revelation of your plans. If you had known him better, you would have noticed the subtle tenseness of his body and the slight furrow on his brows that betrayed his emotions. He knew his sons wouldn't be able to speak right now so he spoke for them instead. "What do you mean by that?"

Everyone already knew the answer to that but Bruce had to ask just to make it a 100% clear that you meant what they all feared you meant.

You smiled as you propped your chin into your hand, oblivious to the intensity of the question and the glares. There was an excited and hopeful gleam in your eyes as you told them the greatest wish you've held so dearly to your heart for years. "I want to move out once I've finished with college. Anywhere would do as long as it's out of Gotham. I think I could save up enough for that by the time I graduate." You leaned in with an excited grin as if you were sharing a secret, "I've been saving up for years, actually."

Your declaration was met with silence, again. This time, you finally took notice of it and the glaringly dark moods of the people around you. The smile dropped off your face as you looked around. Was it something you said?

"Is everyone alright? Did I—" but you were interrupted as your phone rang. You fished it out of your pocket and looked at the caller ID, it was your stepmom.

You grimaced as you excused yourself from the table and hurriedly went to the hallway to answer it.

The second you were gone, a heated argument broke out on the table as everyone started speaking in furious but hushed tones.

"She's leaving?"

"She never mentioned this before." Tim anxiously ran his hand through his hair, mussing up his neat do.

"Goddammit! The fuck is this shit?"

"We can't allow that to happen." Damian's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I won't allow it."

"Calm down." Bruce's commanding voice cut through the frantic chatter. There was a familiar calculating gleam in his eyes. It was a silent command to follow his lead.

Slowly, the men all settled down. They were the Waynes, and most importantly, a renowned team of the world's greatest detectives and vigilantes. They couldn't lose their composure over this.

They'd have to find a solution for this, simple as that. They would have to dissuade you of this ludicrous notion of yours. The world was far too dangerous for you to be out of their sight and beyond their protection. They knew the darkness of the world all too well; they lived, fought and breathed in it's cover every day and every night of their lives.

Tim clasped his hands on the table and frowned. Now that he was thinking clearly, he immediately pinpointed the reason why you'd want to leave Gotham (leave them). Or, one of the main reasons at least, you've never really talked about this before now.

"I'm sure we're all aware what made her want to go."

In unison, all of the men in the table scowled and shared dark looks. They had researched your background extensively in the beginning, it was a provision for any person they had any form of contact with. It had simply started as any other security procedure, simple and necessary. But when their obsession started and steadily grew, they began digging further and further until the nature of your family was brought to light.

The Waynes were left severely disgusted and frighteningly outraged at the abuse you had to endure everyday from those utter scum infesting your house. It was inconceivable, that you—an angel and Paragon of light in their life—would ever be treated so terribly by the vile vermin posing as your family. Family was sacred to them, and for these churls to desecrate that by hurting you, of all people, to the point that you'd rather leave this city (and leave them) was beyond criminal.

They were the reason you wanted to leave (leave them, leave them, leave them). Of course, it would always go back to that pathetic, disgusting excuse of a family you have.

They'd have to rectify this.

For your sake.

No matter what.

…

You returned with a frown, the earlier light and gleam in your eyes had dimmed as you stood in front of the table fiddling with your phone. You noticed that everyone hasn't seemed to touch their food since you left, but other than that, they seemed normal enough. There wasn't a single trace of their dark mood from earlier. Had you imagined that?

"Sorry it's so sudden but I have to go home. Thank you so much for lunch! Bye Mr. Wayne, bye everyone!" You reached out to give a quick hug to Tim since he was closest to you.

Everyone stood up and crowded against you all of a sudden.

Dick pouted as he held his arms open. "You already forgot about me, baby?"

You laughed and quickly hugged him, his arms held on to you a bit tighter than he usually does but you didn't mind. His hugs always felt so warm and nice.

Jason ruffled your hair roughly as he pulled you into his arms the minute Dick let you go. "C'mon squirt, I'm taking you back."

You raised your head to look up at him even as you were pressed to his chest. "You don't have to, Jay. I don't want to impose on you." You protested with a chuckle as he squeezed you one more time before letting go.

Damian scoffed, even as you leaned closer to him and his arms automatically opened to give you a hug. A feat that none of his family thought him possible of. "Tt. Todd's driving skills are incompetent. You'd sooner put her in an accident before you get her home." He skillfully maneuvered the both of you away from Jason's irritated swipe. His green eyes looked down on you thoughtfully, "let me take you—" his mouth curled distastefully at the next word, "—home."

Your mind reeled as the boys began squabbling amongst themselves on who would take you home. You felt immensely flattered and grateful that your friends were so willing and generous to take you back back home but you were anxious about imposing on them and how you were running out of time to get home. Your stepmom could get… Nasty if you didn't follow her rules to the letter and you were supposed to start on your chores half an hour ago.

You held up your hands placatingly, "I'm really, really grateful for the offer, everyone, I really am, but I have to go. I'll just catch a bus, I don't want to bother any of you."

Tim snorted, as if the very thought was absurd, "how could you ever be a bother? That's just ridiculous. And a bus is just dangerous and unreliable at this time. C'mon, I'll take you—"

Bruce, who had been a silent, watching figure behind the boys, layed his hand on Tim's shoulder, immediately shutting him up.

"Tim, I'll take her home. Why don't you and the others rest for now?" His voice was calm but his eyes were a different story. "We'll figure out that… Issue with the competitors when I get back."

It was like a switch went off in the men in front of you. They suddenly looked so serious and grave that you were afraid to ask about it. It probably isn't even your place to know about whatever business the Waynes had anyways.

You withheld an exasperated sigh but couldn't help smiling a little as Mr. Wayne led you to the garage with his hand resting against your upper back. You knew it was futile to argue with the Wayne patriarch so you just went along with it. Secretly, you were touched and grateful that the family cared so much for your safety that they'd go out of their way to drive you home. It wasn't the first time they did this, but you couldn't help feeling shy about it still. You didn't want to bother or inconvenience them from how wonderful they've been with you, after all.

Gosh, you were going to miss this once you move.

!!! CW: GRAPHIC Domestic and verbal abuse, proceed with caution !!!

Days passed with relative ease, your stepmom still worked you to the bone like a slave as your two stepsisters piled on your already busy duties with inane, miscellaneous tasks that they were more than capable of doing themselves. This was hard enough to do on top of your college workload and your half-time job but you bit your tongue and silently shouldered it all. You had learned early on that fighting and standing up for yourself was pointless and only served to make your life harder than it already was.

And you couldn't afford to anger your stepmom, lest you lose the roof above your head (it was one of her favorite and reoccuring threats against you). You needed a place to stay that was close enough to your university that the commute wouldn't kill you and one that wouldn't be a drain on your already strained finances to maintain. You had already checked for every other alternative there was, everything was frustratingly just out of your budget and means.

On top of being a working student, you only got into the University of Gotham through a full-ride scholarship. You couldn't afford to slack off on any front. Everything would be worth it once you finally graduate. You'd leave this miserable house and find a place you can actually call your home.

You leaned against the kitchen counter with a cup of cheap instant coffee, the only thing that your step-family never seemed to touch. It was the main reason why you kept on buying the brand in the first place even if it tasted awful. You had just finished cleaning the whole house, ending with the kitchen. You were resting for a bit before you'd start on dinner. You preferred to do all the chores early so that you had enough time to dedicate to your school work before you had to leave for your shift.

As you sipped your crappy coffee, your stepsisters entered the house loudly as multiple shopping bags hung from their arms. They ignored you and completely blew past you as they went up the stairs with obnoxiously heavy steps. You glimpsed the brand on the bags as they went by and you couldn't help feeling confused. How on earth were they able to buy from Chanel? You never bought from there, never even entered the store in your lifetime, but you were at least aware that it was a designer brand and what they sold wasn't cheap.

You pursed your lips as you parsed through the memory of the past few days. You noted how weird it was that your step-family seemed to increase their spending habits from seemingly nowhere. Unless they secretly won the lottery and failed to mention it to you (doubtful, your two stepsisters were a pair of braggards), there was just no possible reason on how they could've gained so much money from thin air.

Your stomach dropped as a horrible thought crossed your mind.

No, they couldn't have.

You felt sick to your stomach as you rushed up the stairs towards your room. You hurriedly opened the door and locked it behind you before you all but dove under your bed. Your eyes widened in horror as you saw a corner of the perfectly cut piece of carpet flipped upward. You never left it like that, you always made sure to bring it back to how it was, inconspicuous and safe. Even if someone looked, you made sure to cut the carpet in a way that no one would easily notice.

The sinking feeling in your stomach opened up into a nauseating pit as you shakily flipped the carpet all the way and picked up the loose floorboard you had painstakingly pried open all those years ago. All to hide the ticket to your brighter future.

The small space under the floorboard was empty. The metal box that held all your savings was gone.

Just then, the loud, obnoxious laughter of your step-sisters rang out from the room adjacent to yours and startled you badly enough that you hit your head on your metal bed frame.

You felt so sick that you were a second away from throwing up that cheap coffee. You crawled out of the bed and sat on your haunches with a stricken expression. You felt far away as your mind replayed all the times you caught your step-family parading through the house with brand new, luxurious items.

It was your money the whole time.

After your first few, miserable attempts at gaining financial literacy ending horribly for you, you had decided to personally hide away your money so that your stepmother could keep her and her daughters grubby paws off of it. You had been meaning to transfer your money into a secure credit for years but with how hectic your life had been you had pushed it off until the last minute.

Now it was too late.

You were ripped out of your revery as your stepmother's voice boomed from downstairs, irritatedly calling your name. Without even realizing it, you were suddenly walking down the stairs on autopilot to be greeted with the sight of your stepmother standing in the small foyer with her arms crossed imperiously.

She eyed you coldly and her lips curled in a sneer as she gestured dismissively towards the kitchen. "Have you been slacking off? It's almost dinner and you haven't even started on anything. What do I even work for—"

"Did you take my money?" You cut through her incessant nagging. Your eyes bored into hers with an intensity that she had never seen from you. She seemed too shocked by your sudden gall that she forgot to be angry.

You stopped at the last step and gripped the handrail. You were quivering from nerves and a steadily mounting anger as you stared right at her, as if silently pleading that it wasn't the case. That, by some miraculous force, your stepmother wouldn't do something that was ingrained in her twisted nature.

Her expression schooled into one of casual indifference. The woman seemed to raise her chin higher as she sent you a challenging look, "what money?"

You curled your hands into fists and pressed them tightly against your chest. It did nothing to alleviate the pressure, pressure, pressure—that suddenly burst from the very core of your being into an enraged scream. "DID YOU TAKE MY FUCKING MONEY—"

A harsh, violent slap cut you off mid-scream as you were sent careening into the wall. Your head hit the wall harshly and you crumpled against the landing of the stairs, dazed out of your anger. Before you could even get your bearings, the same cheek was struck, but this time with a sharper, stinging pain that seemed to break skin. You cried out and curled up into a ball to hide your face.

There was a moment of tense silence as the all-consuming anger that had seemed to engulf you was effectively replaced by a familiar fear.

"How dare you." Her voice quivered with malice and sheer, utter wrath.

Sharp nails dug into your scalp and grabbed a fistful of hair before violently yanking your frightened face to face hers. Her eyes spoke of malevolence as she brought your head closer to hers.

"How fucking dare you!" She screamed right into your face, spittle flying from her mouth, "I decided to take in your worthless ass out of the goodness of my heart once your fucking daddy dies. I provided a roof over your head, food to eat, and the clothes on your back and this is how you repay me? You worthless bitch!" She slammed your head against the wall and you clenched your jaw just so that you wouldn't cry out.

If you hadn't been overcome with fear, you would have laughed right in her face. You barely had food to eat, all the clothes on your back you had to thrift on your own with your own money and this house? She stole it from you. You wanted to throw it all back in her face but it was getting harder to think through all the pain.

"That fucking money you have? You owe that to me for every single goddamn thing I've ever done for you. You could've been some worthless street rat or a fucking low-life prostitute but I kept you here, because I'm such a good person and I deserve nice things!" For the third time, she slammed your head into the wall, you didn't even have the energy to cry out. Her chest was heaving as her deranged eyes glared at your dazed eyes. After a moment more, she released her iron-grip on your hair and let you crumple into the floor in a heap. As if to add insult to injury, she delivered a swift but punishing kick to your side.

"Clean this up, then go to your room. You're not going to eat dinner and I don't want to see you until tomorrow." She clicked her tongue in annoyance, "selfish bitch."

Your stepmom stepped over your prone form and went up the stairs as if nothing happened. You pressed your forehead against the cool tiles and counted in your head until the spinning stopped and you could breathe easily.

Once you were absolutely sure that no one would be coming down, you shakily picked yourself up. You glanced at the blood on the ground that had dripped from the wound on your face. It was probably from the large, gaudy ring your stepmom insisted on wearing. You gently poked at the side of your head that had been brutally smashed against the wall repeatedly, it was really sore and you felt lightheaded. Your vision was swimming a little and you didn't know if that was a good sign. You desperately hoped that you didn't have a concussion.

You glanced back up the stairs, heard nothing, then began creeping towards the front door. You held your tender side and ignored the pounding of your head as you reached for the door knob with a shaking hand. You hesitated before opening it, afraid that the sound of the door opening would summon your demonic stepmom to give you a round two.

But the thought of staying even a minute in this house pushed you to open the door. You opened it as quietly as you could but didn't bother closing it once you've slipped past. You secretly hoped that they'd get mugged.

…

Once both your feet were on the pavement, you ran. It was raining heavily and you wore nothing but a thin shirt and threadbare pants so the cold easily pierced you, but it only pushed you to run faster. The sidewalk was fairly deserted so it made running like an idiotic madman very convenient. You barely had the presence of mind to watch where you were going as you frantically weaved through corners and streets until your lungs felt like it was going to burst. You didn't stop until you felt like you've gone far enough. Until you were as far as you could go from that house and the awful people inside it.

The rain pelted you mercilessly as you stood there on an empty sidewalk, chest heaving, head pounding, and body trembling from a mixture of the cold and the storm of emotions that whirled and ravaged you from the inside. You felt so angry, bitter, hopeless, and so damn helpless that you felt like it was going to tear you apart.

That was years of hard-work, of fervent dreams and hopes, of everything that you had been working so hard for, gone. And worse, you had been helpless to stop it. The vision of a bright future away from your awful family was cruelly ripped away from you just when it felt like it was within your grasp.

If you didn't feel so utterly hopeless and bitter, you probably would've laughed.

Someone called your name and you blinked up hazy eyes to stare at a man who stood a couple of feet away from you. He was similarly drenched in the rain as a white streak of hair hung over his blue eyes. His chest was heaving as if he had been running this whole time. It clicked and you recognized him as Jason Todd, your friend. You were suddenly hyper-aware of the very visible wound on your face and you quickly turned your head to the side and let your wet hair curtain that side.

"Doll," Jason called out to you as he slowly approached you, as if approaching a wounded animal. Once he was in front of you, his hand reached up to cup your uninjured cheek as he took in your drenched and rumpled clothes and your bloodshot eyes.

"Are you alright?" You had never heard him sound so soft before and the tender way he held your face seemed to break you down further. You sobbed loudly as you flung yourself into his chest and clung to him desperately like a lifeline. His arms came around you in a protective hold and you felt his hand on the back of your head as he stroked your wet hair comfortingly. You ignored the way it made your head pound.

"I can't take it anymore! How—" you choked on a sob as you buried your face further into his chest, "how can they…?" You couldn't even finish it as a surge of deep-rooted bitterness swelled and clogged up your throat.

Jason let you sob openly into his chest as he held you closely. He didn't seem to mind the rain as he just… Held you, out there on the sidewalk of the seedy part of Gotham. He felt like the only thing keeping you from tearing at the seams until there was nothing left of you.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's get you home." Jason murmured into your hair as he half-carried and half-led you to a sleek, black car parked next to the road. He opened the rear door for you as you all but stumbled in and he quickly followed from behind.

"Hey, sweetheart." You didn't look up but you could recognize Dick's voice anywhere. "Don't worry, we're gonna take you home."

Home, there's that word again. It grated on your fragile nerves and made even more tears spill from your eyes. "Please, I can't go back there. I can't—please."

Jason gently laid a hand on your shoulder as you shook so violently it felt like you were falling apart.

"You're not going back there, doll. We're taking you back to ours."

Distantly, you felt like you should protest (you couldn't be a burden, you couldn't be a burden, you couldn't—), but presently you just didn't have the energy to. Numbly, you nodded as your shaking lessened but didn't dissapear. You felt so cold in your drenched clothes.

Wordlessly, Jason took off his maroon leather jacket and draped it over your shivering form. It was a little wet on the outside from the rain but the inside felt so warm since he had just worn it; it smelled of cigarettes, libraries, and something vaguely metallic. It brought a modicum of comfort to you. But you felt so numb that you didn't even notice that Dick had been driving for a while now until the car stopped.

The passenger door on your side opened and a big, warm hand settled on your shoulder. Dick's worried blue eyes looked down on you. You shakily stepped out with his hand on your back, silently supporting you. You gripped Jason's jacket closer to you as the two Wayne brothers flanked you on both sides as they led you into the house.

You had your head bowed as you were gently shephered into the living room where the rest of the Wayne men were anxiously waiting for you.

Dick led you to the cozy arm chair near the fireplace as Damian and Tim immediately stood near your chair like sentries. You couldn't bear to look at them so you let your wet hair to hang limply in front of your face in a weak attempt to hide your face and the bruise on your cheek.

God, you felt so pathetic. How do they see you now?

Suddenly, Mr. Wayne was kneeling in front of your chair peering through the hair that covered and stuck to your wet face. He gently clasped your hands as his steel-grey eyes brimmed with compassion. "What happened? You can talk to us." His voice softened as he said in a reassuring tone, "You're safe here."

You raised your head an inch to meet his eyes as you finally found your voice. "Where do I even start?" Your voice sounded so weak that you doubted he heard you.

It was more of a rhetorical question but Mr. Wayne just squeezed your hands before he answered.

"Start from the beginning."

He let go of your hands but stayed close as the rest of the Waynes seemed to huddle around you in a protective bubble. Your head was still bowed as you reached up to wipe the tears from your face as you slowly gathered your thoughts. It felt like you were majorly overstepping by even contemplating unloading your problems on them but you just felt too empty to care.

All of a sudden, a warm, steaming cup of what smelled like hot chocolate was pushed into your hands. You gave a brief glance at who gave you the cup to see Tim smiling down on you with a tender and inviting smile. You looked around and saw a similar expression of warmth and acceptance mirrored on every Wayne's face. Somehow, it gave you the push to finally talk.

Slowly, in a stilted and hesitant speech, you opened up to them about your problems at home. Like a dam bursting once the flood gates were opened, it felt like the truth spilled endlessly out of you as you shared your pain without divulging the more graphic and horrible details. You didn't feel like you had the right to say it aloud, not yet. You were half-afraid that they'd judge you for blowing up at your stepmom but they only seemed outraged on your behalf and so endlessly considerate and compassionate for your pain.

"I don't have anything more to give." You admitted quietly. Your voice sounded so hollow, even to your own ears. You stared emptily at the warm cup in your hands. It helped chase away the chill a little but you felt so empty and drained that you could do nothing but hold it. "Everything I had, they took, even when there was nothing left to take."

You sank a little lower on the comfortable armchair as you whispered in a broken voice, "It was my only hope. I thought I could get away from them if I worked hard enough. It's the only thing that kept me going." You chuckled bitterly and bowed your head lower. "Guess not."

Gently, as if you'd break otherwise, Dick pulled you into his side from where he was perched on the armrest to your right. His large, calloused hands slowly carded through your hair and you leaned into the tender touch immediately. His touch was so soft that it didn't seem to worsen the pain on your head. You felt pathetic, drained, and desperate for comfort. And these men have always been a haven of warmth and comfort that you had been deprived of your whole life. You secretly craved this but felt too ashamed to ever ask for it from anyone.

God, what were you doing? Now that they knew how fucked up your life is, how lower could you possibly sink in their eyes? You're better than this, you had to get a grip.

You straightened up as you finally met the worried gazes of the family around you. You tried to smile but you just felt so tired. "Don't worry about me, I'll… Be fine. I'd probably be able to save up again, I still have some time before I graduate anyways." You desperately wanted to believe in those words but they sounded like empty consolations, even for you. You had exhausted every other option, what was there left for you?

Their eyes mirrored your sentiment and you couldn't bear the suffocating sense of pity that seemed to emanate from them so you turned your head to the side in shame.

The action moved your hair and you felt a light touch as the limp strands of your hair was brushed away from your face. There was a sharp intake of breath to your left as Damian, who was standing next to the armchair to your left, gently ran the back of his fingers against your cheek, you winced as you felt a slight pain there from where your stepmom had struck you. His green eyes were a storm of emotions that promised danger (but not to you, never you) as he asked you in a low, chilling voice, "who hurt you?"

Immediately, the rest of the Waynes zeroed in on your cheek as you tried to hide it behind your hair again. Too late, Mr. Wayne gently grasped your chin, turned your head forward, and brushed your hair away from your face. Illuminated by the fire, the giant bruise that colored your cheek was stark against your skin. There was a thin line of red that ran horizontally from one corner of the bruise to the other, the wound had already crusted over but the whole injury looked painful and displaced on your face. As if it didn't belong on a person as precious as you.

You felt yourself warm up for the first time since arriving here, but it was from shame. Here was the evidence of a lifetime of pain and suffering and the Waynes, the most wonderful and kindest family that you had the fortune of meeting, were finally privy to it.

Tim was suddenly kneeling in front of you, replacing his father. He didn't touch you but his hands hovered over yours for a second before he settled it on the cushions on either side of your legs, his blue eyes seemed to swim with overwhelming emotions as he took in the shame and defeat writ across your face.

"I know how it feels, I've been there." Your eyes snapped to his, surprised. Him? You would never have thought…

He smiled wryly, as if guessing your thoughts. "Trust me, I know. My life from before wasn't easy." A shadow cast over his eyes but the kindness still shine through as he regarded you with an understanding that spoke bone-deep. "So please, believe me when I say that it isn't hopeless. I'm here for you, we're here for you. You're safe here, with us."

Tears slid down your battered face unbidden. You thought you had already cried enough tears to last a lifetime but the tears felt warm as you bowed your head and let them flow. For once, you felt safe enough to let yourself cry in front of people and it felt good that you wouldn't be punished for it.

Your tears dripped into the cool drink that you still clutched on your lap. Someone plucked it from your trembling hands and you heard hushed voices as they began talking to each other in soft murmurs. You let the soft sounds wash over you as you felt a wave of tiredness sweep you over. Suddenly the pain from all your sounds came back with a vengeance, it seemed that adrenaline had protected you from feeling the worst of it.

You suddenly felt woozy as darkness creeped on the edge of your vision for a second and you tilted forward. Strong arms caught you before you were even aware of it. Dick was staring down at you with worried but alarmed blue eyes.

You tried to smile as your vision swam for a bit. "I think I also have a concussion." You murmured but the words sounded slurred. It was getting harder to think from the heavy pounding pain in your head, it felt like someone was hammering away at your skull. Everything just hurt.

Someone cursed as Dick picked you up as gently as he could. You closed your eyes and let yourself sink into Dick's strong, warm arms that cradled you so tenderly. The others hovered around you and their concern and worry was palpable.

Mr. Wayne's voice was a low, rumble that followed you as Dick began carrying you out of the living room, the others following closely as if gravitated to your side. "Stay here for tonight, we'll fix this in the morning."

You felt soft lips press against your temple and someone murmured against your head the words you've desperately wanted to hear your whole life, "You're safe."

As you slowly lost consciousness; you truly, from the bottom of your weary heart, wanted to believe that.

…

After Alfred had tended to you and you slept soundly in the medical bay, the Wayne men were finally able to leave your side before reconvening in the Batcave. You had suffered a concussion with bruises on your side and face, there was a laceration on the bruice on your face as well. The worst of it were the numerous scars that littered your body—some old, some new—which were usually hidden by your clothes. It was obvious that none of it were self-inflicted.

They were all suited up and standing silently around the batcomputer, as if readying for a mission. The air seemed to buzz from the dangerous aura that emanated from the vigilantes and they had a restless energy as they watched Tim work furiously on the computer. They already made a plan on what they were going to do to the utter scum that had dared to hurt what was theirs. They were just making sure that you'd get out of this situation scot-free.

Once Tim was finally done on the computer, he rose and gave the others a nod. Without a word, they all boarded their vehicles and shot off into the tunnel and into the night. They didn't need to open the tracking device on their equipment, they all knew your address by heart.

The darkness seemed to cling to them as they drove with a single-minded determination.

They knew indeed what evil they intended to do, but stronger than every afterthought was their fury, a fury that brings upon mortals the greatest evil.*

And oh, how they'd let this pathetic family of vermin feel their wrath.

It was their job to rid the world of their kind after all.

…

Aaaand that's part 2! I wrote this out of order and started with the second part before starting on the first but I got carried away with this so y'all can have this as a treat. This was a neat little experiment to test out posting, this is the first time I posted a written work since middle school and that was like a decade ago lmaooo.

This was heavily inspired from @blughxreader their platonic yandere!batfam content and all things batfam related is just top-tier. I lost so much sleep over their blog and I don't regret it. Check out their work if you haven't already!

*and the original quote goes like this btw, "I know indeed what evil I intend to do, but stronger than all my afterthoughts is my fury, fury that brings upon mortals the greatest evils." -Euripides. I felt like it just fit the story hahaha.

Lemme know your thoughts! I didn't really edit this since I got lazy lol. This is officially my offering to the Tumblr overlords as my first post. I'm kinda new to this site and I'm gonna need their blessing and counsel. Wish me luck, babes.

[ticklygiggles]

You've got a friend in me pt. 3 | Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, Hinata & Reader

A/N: First fic from new commissions made by always kind and wonderful Max (@wertzunge)! As always, I apologize for the delay, but I hope you enjoy this fic Max! Thank you so much for always being so kind to me! ❤️

Words: 3k+

Summary: On a little school trip to Kyoto, Hinata seems to be very excited to have you around, but a certain freckled boy seemed to be a bit... upset.

Male!Reader. You can read part 1 and part 2 of this series!

The weather was beautiful: clear skies, warm sun and fresh air. Perfect for this trip to Kyoto. Your heart fluttered like a small caged bird inside your chest, the excitement ran through you from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. It was your first time on a school trip to Kyoto- this was supposed to be an educational trip, (something about history? You really couldn't recall), but your teachers had promised a free day for the students to go wherever they pleased. 

Yamaguchi and you had decided on doing some research about the places you both would like to visit and prepare an itinerary for that day. For this, you've decided to sit together, wanting to plan everything as soon as possible. You really couldn't wait to get into the bus! 

“Aren't you excited?!” A voice chirped behind you and you jumped slightly when you felt a soft poke near your left side. 

Turning around, your lips stretched into a smile. “I feel like I'm gonna explode, Shouyou!” 

Having made friends with a certain piece of sunshine did nothing to help relax your excitement. You had not long become friends with Hinata Shouyou. It was to be expected that by visiting Yamaguchi and Tsukishima so much at their volleyball practices, they would eventually introduce you to the rest of the team. Everyone had been exceptionally kind, but Hinata seemed attached to you from day one. You couldn't lie, at first Hinata's overflowing and bright energy made you feel terribly nervous, but it didn't take long for you to adapt to it and soon you became good friends.

Hinata was practically jumping on one foot with excitement. He rambled on about this and that and you could only nod with a smile, but in a second he was gone and was now fighting with Kageyama. Those two were certainly a very fun duo to watch, you chuckled and squealed when yet another poke to your side surprised you. 

“Did you do your research?”

Turning around again, the biggest grin pulled at the corners of your lips. Yamaguchi was looking at you with a smile just as bright. 

“I did!” You hurriedly pulled out a notepad from the side of your bag. “I made a very detailed list with cons and pros about each place!” You said excitedly. “We can compare our research!”

Yamaguchi nodded, chuckling a little and your cheeks flushed slightly. “That sounds like a good idea! Don't forget we'll seat together so we can-” 

“Ack!” 

You nearly dropped your notepad when someone suddenly hooked their arm around yours, dragging you away from Yamaguchi. 

“H-Huh?! Shouyou?!” 

“C'mon, c'mon!” He said, all smiles and laughs. “You'll sit with me, okay?! Quick! Before they get the best spots!” 

“A-Ah, Shouyou- I promised I would- agh!” You looked back at Yamaguchi and he was looking at you with a surprised expression. 

“I'm sorry!” You mouthed and you saw his shoulders falling a little as he gave a sad smile and a nod. 

Sooner than later you were squeezed between the window and Hinata’s incessant talking. You tried to keep your smile warm and sincere, but something felt heavy in your chest– you had promised Yamaguchi you both would sit together, but now you were with Hinata and Yamaguchi didn't look too happy even though he was sitting with Tsukishima. 

You sighed. Well, you hoped you'd get a chance to apologize once you were at the inn. Hinata, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi and you would be sharing a room after all, so there were plenty of chances to properly apologize and compensate your dear friend… right?

--

The bus ride didn't seem very long to you. Hinata's mouth just wouldn't shut up and soon he was making you laugh and making you chat animatedly with him. The only time he was silent was when he fell asleep for a few minutes and you were able to watch the scenery out the window. You pushed the small problem with Yamaguchi to the back of your head, it wasn't worth getting overwhelmed by it now when you could deal with it later.

Finally arriving at the inn, the butterflies in your stomach returned. The air in Kyoto even felt different, but maybe it was just you… but was the sky bluer there? Impossible, right? Chuckling to yourself, you started to get off the bus along with everyone else. Hinata practically held you prisoner, clinging tightly to your arm until his bright eyes found Kageyama, and laughing, he said he would see you in a moment. 

You started your own search; your eyes scanning the faces in that sea of ​​students in front of you until you found that adorable freckled face. You perked like a little puppy and quickly made your way to him while the teachers did the check in. 

“Tadashi!” You called once you were a couple of feet away from him. “Tadashi, I'm so sorry about earlier! I really wanted to sit with you, but Shouyou, he just-"

You jolted when you heard your name screamed at the top of Hinata's lungs. In a moment, the little ball of orange energy was at your side, grabbing your arm and dragging you somewhere. 

“What- Shouyou?! I was talking to- 

Hinata didn't even listen to you. “C'mon! You can do that later! Let's go see our room!”

Once again, you were dragged away from Yamaguchi without even the chance to look at him one last time before Hinata took you to your room.

–

You expected the room to be big enough to fit four people in, but you certainly didn't expect it to be that big. It was a very spacious room, but modest. The tatami felt extremely comfortable under your feet and four futons were properly arranged. A small wooden table in the middle of the room and some decorations here and there. It was cozy and somehow warm.

“I want this bed!” He called your name as he threw his back somewhere. “You'll sleep next to me, right?!” 

You chuckled shyly, “Sh-Shouyou, I think we should let everyone choose where-"

“I want to be the farest away from Hinata as possible.” Tsukishima’s voice surprised you and you smiled when you saw Yamaguchi entering the room right behind the tall boy. 

To your surprise, Yamaguchi made eye contact with you, but quickly averted his eyes. Something uncomfortably heavy set on the pit of your stomach and you felt that awful sensation of anxiety starting to swirl in your chest and wrap around your throat. You gulped and took a deep breath. Let's calm down, you repeated inside your head over and over. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. 

From left to right: Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, you and Hinata. After a bit of chaos and someone almost asking to change rooms and saying that he'd rather sleep in the King's room, you all finally could choose your own bed and set that problem aside. 

“Since we are next to each other,” you said to Yamaguchi as you both pulled out some clean clothing from your bags. “I think we can talk about the places we want to visit, right?” 

Yamaguchi halted for a mere second before nodding softly. “Mhmm.” 

You felt your cheeks heating up a little. “H-Hmm… Tadashi, are you mad at m-”

“Hey!” Hinata suddenly grabbed your arm. “The teacher said we should meet outside for a quick tour! Let's go!” 

“S-Shouyou, give me just one second, I- 

“Go on,” Yamaguchi said and you froze, quickly looking at him. “We should hurry.” With that, he was out of the room, leaving not only you and Hinata back, but also Tsukishima. 

That awkward sensation tightened around your throat, almost choking you. This was going downhill, but you weren't trying to upset anyone, Hinata was just-

“Let's go?” He asked with a bright, warm smile and happy eyes and you sighed, nodding and smiling back at him. You really couldn't get mad at Hinata, he simply was… excited. Perhaps a bit too much, but you were sure he didn't mean harm. 

Sighing again, you looked behind. “Let's go, Tsukki.” Tsukishima simply hummed in agreement and followed you and Hinata out the room.  

In the lobby, you quickly found Yamaguchi and joined him, but standing next to him just felt… terribly awkward. You tried to do small talk, though you hated it to the bone, even throwing in some jokes that made you blush slightly, but your attempts seemed to work: Yamaguchi tried to hide a smile and he even spoke to you a couple of times, he was still curt in his answers, but at least he seemed to want to talk to you again.

The tour of the small inn was boring. The teachers in charge guided you through practically every room occupied by the students in your class, the teachers’ own rooms, the bathrooms, and so on, by the time you all had finished, you were exhausted. Not only physically, but also mentally. Although Yamaguchi seemed to be back to normal, he would still try to avoid talking to you too much. It had been too long since you had felt that suffocating sensation around your neck. Thousands of negative thoughts gathered in your head and you felt your temples throb. You heard your heart racing behind your ears and your breathing was a little erratic, barely perceptible to anyone, but deafening to you.

Letting out a deep sigh once you all were back to your room, you collapsed on your designated futon wearing a comfortable yukata given by the inn. Everyone had taken a shower, the room smelled like the sun and your eyelids felt heavy, you could have fallen asleep right then, but someone's voice woke you up. 

“Shall we play a bit?” It was Yamaguchi, kneeling on his futon and showing you a deck of uno cards. You beamed, nodding excitedly, not feeling sleepy anymore. “I bet you can't beat me this time.”

You chuckled, getting up and approaching the little table with Yamaguchi. “When have I been able to do it?” 

You both laughed and some of the growing anxiety in your chest dissipated. Everything was fine. It had just been a small misunderstanding. You and Yamaguchi were still friends and you were probably going to have a lot of fun on that trip... right?

One game turned into two and then into three and four. All four times you lost miserably, Yamaguchi had always been extremely good at uno, you couldn't really remember a time you had beaten him, but it didn't matter, you always had fun with him and seeing him happy to win over and over again was more than enough for you. 

“You are terrible at this,” Hinata chuckled, glued to your side as Yamaguchi and you played for the fifth time. “This one,” he said, pointing at a card in your hand. 

“A-Ah, this one?”

“Yes!” He said and waited for Yamaguchi to throw his next card. “Hmm, now this one. Why do you have so many cards? You could've won decades ago- now throw this one and this, and this and now this and- 

You and Hinata jumped in surprise when Yamaguchi slammed his palms against the table. Your eyes widened when he looked at you, his brow deep in a big frown. He was furious.

“Can't you do anything by yourself?!” He yelled, getting up and rushing out of the room. 

You were stunned. Your eyes wide and your heart hammering in your chest. What had happened?! Weren't you and Yamaguchi better now? You started to breathe heavily, your hands started to shake, the cards falling from your grip. You, Hinata, and Tsukishima seemed to have frozen in place. The three of you were staring at the door where Yamaguchi had come out.

Tsukishima was the first one to react, he sighed softly and started to get up from his futon where he was listening to music. He looked at you and you flinched. “I'll go check-

“No,” Hinata said, gently tapping your shoulder as he got up from his spot beside you. “I will go. This is my fault after all.” Hinata can be painfully dense many times, but even he could tell what had happened here. He smiled sheepishly at you and quickly left the room to look for Yamaguchi. 

This was terrible. Was it happening again? Were you going to lose Yamaguchi? After everything it had cost you to open up to him and after all the affection you already felt for him- was it going to end like this? For a misunderstanding? It was your fault. Maybe the problem has always been you, maybe you don't know how to maintain a friendship. Maybe the problem is your behavior and attitude. Poor Yamaguchi, he had to know the worst side of you and now he was hurt like this. Were you really... a bad person? 

“Hey…” You jumped, feeling a hand rubbing your back. Tsukishima was sitting beside you, and he reached out to wipe a tear falling from your cheek. “Don't be like this. This is not your fault.”

Your bottom lip trembled and more tears streamed down your cheeks. “It is my fault,” you said between soft sobs. “I've hurt Tadashi and now he hates me. I didn't m-mean to, I promise, Kei!” You looked at him with shame. Was Tsukishima going to hate you too? After all, Yamaguchi was his precious friend, of course Tsukishima would feel upset towards you and- 

A gasp escaped your mouth when Tsukishima hugged you tightly with one arm. “I'm telling you this is not your fault, you don't understand?” He asked, gently rubbing your back. “Yamaguchi doesn't hate you. He just can't hate you. He likes you so much, can't you see how precious you are to him? You did nothing wrong.” 

You hid your face on Tsukishima's shoulder and cried some more, letting Tsukishima's words settle in your heart. Yamaguchi didn't hate you? The possibility of that being true made your heart jump. If Yamaguchi didn't hate you, you could apologize and everything would go back to normal and you would both continue enjoying each other's company for a long time. Yamaguchi was so precious to you, you couldn't imagine the that you two could stop being friends. Just thinking about it made your bones hurt and made you feel dizzy and nauseous. Your friendship with him couldn't end yet- at least not this way.

“There, there. Are you better?” You nodded a little, slowly pulling away from the embrace. Tsukishima sighed. "You're so silly. How could you think Yamaguchi would hate you because of something so silly? You should apologize for thinking this way.” You blushed, nodding and Tsukishima chuckled. “You both are so childish. You need to grow up.” Although his words seemed harsh, there was no venom in them. His finger was suddenly poking your side, making you jump with a squeak. 

“You see? How can you be so ticklish? Yamaguchi too, you both really are so alike,” he said, poking and poking and poking every spot he could reach: your sides, your ribs, your tummy and even your neck. In seconds he had you giggling and trying to stop his hand. 

“Thahat- That d-dohoesn't have to do wihith a-anythihing!” You giggled out, squeaking when he started to knead your sides. “Kehehei!” 

Tsukishima snorted softly before finally stopping. “Everything will be fine, you'll see,” he said with a warm smile, playfully ruffling your hair. 

You breathed and smiled softly at him. “Thank you, Kei.” 

"We are back!" 

Like a spring, you stood up as soon as you saw Yamaguchi enter. His eyes were red and wet, he had also been crying a little. His freckled face was twisted into an expression of sadness, shyness and remorse and you were dying to hug him and tell him how important he was to you, but before you could even open your mouth, Yamaguchi had already started speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I'm sorry,” he said softly, looking at you. “I acted like a kid-” 

Tsukishima, “That's what I said.”

Hinata, “Tsukishima!!” 

“... I was…,” Yamaguchi continued. “I was tremendously jealous about how well you got along with Hinata. I thought…,” he sighed, his cheeks turning pink. “I thought you just… would leave me behind and wouldn't want to be friends with me anymore.

I was just stupid… instead of trying to talk to you, I decided to just be mad and childish and in the end I only hurt you just because I was scared I was going to be left behind and I even made Hinata feel bad just because he wanted to be friends with you…”

You knew that feeling of being forgotten and not belonging very well and it hurt you that Yamaguchi felt that way. 

“So I am very, very sorry. Would you forgive me this time? I promise I'll do better… please?” 

You smiled at him and quickly wrapped your arms around Yamaguchi, hugging him tightly. Yamaguchi hugged you back, letting out a long, pleased sigh. Forgive him? Of course! There had been blame on both sides in this situation, both had hurt the other in one way or another, so of course you forgave him. Your precious friend. 

You chuckled, hugging Yamaguchi even tighter. “I think… there's only one way I can truly forgive you, Tadashi.”

Yamaguchi nodded. “Yes! Please let me know what it is and I'll- eek!”

Yamaguchi pushed your shoulders lightly when you squeezed both his sides, tickling him. He looked at you and you smirked, making him flush; he tried to run, but you started to squeeze his sides again and again and again and soon, his laughter filled the whole room as he jumped and squirmed, trying to escape. 

“I'll have to tickle you until I think it's enough!” You said with a laugh as Yamaguchi collapsed to the floor, your hands glued to his torso, following him down. 

“N-Nohoho! I'm s-sohorry! I didn't- ahaha!” 

Yamaguchi thrashed around, his hands around your wrists trying to push your hands away without much force or intention. His bitter expression had completely changed with a vibrant, bright smile that almost split his face in half. The sad tears streaming down his face had turned into tears of laughter and the way he laughed your name made you laugh along with him. Very soon, the bad time you were going through was behind you and now you were having fun like you always did. 

“I want to play too! I want to play too!” Hinata chirped, jumping up and down excitedly. You thought that if he had a tail, he would be wagging it from side to side. You chuckled and looked up at him. “Can I join? Can I join?!”

You nodded, “yeah! Come help me out, Shouyou!” 

“N-Nohoho! Ts-Tsuhuki, help! Ahahack!” 

Not even you noticed when or how, but Hinata already had his hyperactive fingers on Yamaguchi's stomach, pinching the muscle on the sides of his belly and vibrating the tips of his fingers around Yamaguchi’s belly button. The redhead was giggling and babbling something about how ticklish Yamaguchi was and you chuckled, moving your fingers up to his ribs. 

Yamaguchi laughed and squealed. His hands were an uncoordinated mess, trying to cover his stomach and then his ribs and also his mouth and his reddened cheeks. He laughed heartily, it seemed to you as if he were almost laughing with relief and you smiled tenderly. How could you even think that Yamaguchi would hate you? Tsukishima was right, you weren't giving him the credit he deserved.

“Oof-!” 

You gasped heavily as someone grabbed your shoulders from behind and gently pushed you back, pinning one of your arms above your head. It was Tsukishima. He straddled your waist and smirked from above you. 

“Someone here also needs a punishment for beating himself around too hard, hmm?” 

“K-Kehei, no, please! I'm s-sorry I just- ahaHAHA! N-NOHOHO!” 

Tsukishima simply loved to go for your weakest spots. It was like that every single time he tickled you. His fingers started to wiggle against your exposed underarm. He scratched the sensitive skin at the hollow and kneaded the muscle with his thumb, making you shriek with ticklish laughter. 

Yamaguchi was also busy laughing his head off, you could hear him begging for mercy as Hinata quickly found the weak spot at his hips. Your laughter filled the room and you thought in a small moment of lucidity, when Tsukishima stopped tickling you to get a better grip on your arm, that very soon someone would be knocking on the door asking you all to shut up, but no one did and so you and Yamaguchi were under a vicious tickle attack until you both were able to pin your captors back. 

Hinata's vibrant and rich laughter, along with Tsukishima's serene and gentle laughter formed a combination that was not at all unpleasant to hear. You already knew each of the points that made Tsukishima shriek with laughter, and Yamaguchi seemed to be having lots of fun trying to find Hinata's, which wasn't too hard, he seemed to be a walking tickle spot! 

Tsukishima kept laughing out threats that had you laughing and feeling nervous butterflies in your tummy, but before he could actually get revenge on you, you and Yamaguchi locked eyes and in seconds, you both were after each other, trying to pin the other down while your hands latched to that place that made you scream with laughter. 

Hinata wanted to join in the fun again and, somehow, Tsukishima was dragged in too, this time going for Yamaguchi who was driving you crazy because of the tickling under your arms. Hinata, for his part, took Yamaguchi's place, so you had a second of rest before you began to laugh loudly once again. 

It had been an eventful day, you had to admit it. You could assure that you had felt almost every emotion in the world that day, but you were happy that everything had been fixed. You and Yamaguchi had strengthened your bond and you were sure that you would continue to be together for a long time to come. 

It was the first night, but you knew that this trip would be one of the best of your life, as long as you and Yamaguchi remained the best of friends! 

[agent-troi]

great points on Diana. I can't quite figure out what I think about her narrative yet. I didn't like when she first appeared because she came across and part of a suspicious character, and her appeal was very unappealing. When Gibson is ready to disclose who Mulder is thinking about, oh boy does she want to know to stop up the pot. She's aggressive but in a frozen manner. What I mean by that is her facial expressions seem frozen, her voice is almost stilted, and her eyes lack the dance that we see in Scully' and Mulder's. I also don't know what to think about her because she didn't get a real conclusion. We are told that she is killed, but was she? Maybe she is just reassigned to do something else. I wanted to see the closure or some actual redemption of her alliance with CSM.

With that being said, when do you think Mulder figured out that Diana was lying to him and couldn't be trusted? Was it the night that he went to her apartment or when he was in his mind-reading, psychosis state? AND, do you think that during the Diana period, after work or on the weekends, Mulder and Diana had some flings or some sort of relationship?

Did Mulder choose Scully or did he get Scully by default because Diana was removed from the equation?

diana was soooo underutilized. i had vaguely heard of her before i reached her part of the story and i was expecting this big, huge, MSR-shattering deal, and then she was hardly ever on screen. i get that the actress wasn't available very often, but then don't try to make a love triangle if she's only going to be in five episodes and the rest of the time it's like she doesn't even exist.

frozen is a perfect word to describe her. she's just so insincere so much of the time. everything is a performance, tailored specifically to get mulder on her side. she's basically a more subtle version of phoebe imo; manipulative, but in a way that can slide under the radar if you're not looking for it (which mulder isn't; he wants to believe she wants the best for him).

i'm so annoyed that she was killed off-screen lmao. this show brought back jeffrey spender after we saw him get shot, brought back csm after he was literally blown up in a fiery explosion, but we don't even see diana die and she never comes back?? i'm suspicious...

(btw if you're looking for fics where she wasn't actually killed in amor fati, Gaslight by @sisterspooky1013 and Pause by @cecilysass are two of the best imo, and if you're looking for a redemption story/something that actually fleshes out her character a bit more, I recommend The Whole Truth by @admiralty-xfd and The Only Answer by me lmao)

as for when mulder finally figured out he couldn't trust her, he absolutely knew it when she went to see him in the hospital and he could read her mind. there's no way he doesn't know at that point. when he went to her apartment, he was at the very least open to the possibility that she had betrayed him. he wouldn't have gone in the first place if he really thought there couldn't be anything to it. but then csm shows up and somehow that doesn't raise a big red flag so i don't think he really got it then. it's not clear at the end of one son if mulder and the others believe that diana was among those killed at the air force base, and since she never appears or is mentioned between one son and biogenesis, we don't know at what point mulder finds out she somehow survived. depending on the circumstances of his finding out, it might have raised suspicions in his mind, which were then confirmed by the mind-reading.

my answer to the question of whether mulder and diana had any flings during this period is abso-fucking-lutely not, and not just because i personally can't stand the idea. the only time i can really see it happening is when she first shows up in the season 5 finale, but there's just no time for anything like that to happen during that episode. beyond that point, mulder starts off season 6 annoyed at diana for taking over the x-files behind his back, but then scully pulls the rug out from under him at the opr hearing after he pretty much made a fool of himself declaring confidently that she was about to prove the virus was alien, so he takes diana's side in that episode out of sheer petulance. after that he's too busy chasing "vicious, long-clawed spacelings" to be bothered to have any flings, but then at the end of the episode, scully finally comes through with evidence of alien dna in the human genome. it's too late to take back the way he embarrassed himself at the opr hearing, but it begins to put them back on the same page. and then during the period when they're off the x-files, mulder's digging through the trash in their old office to find x-files for him and scully to investigate instead of just asking diana to sneak some files out of the office for him, which i can't imagine him not doing if they're having any kind of relationship. also he’s clearly never been to diana’s apartment before one son.

this whole season is about mulder and scully dancing around the idea of being together, which is something mulder wants but is afraid to express directly, not knowing that's precisely what scully needs to hear. i just can't see him choosing to be with diana except maybe for when he's still disoriented by her sudden reappearance, and there wasn't room in the timeline of the episode for that to happen.

@randomfoggytiger broke down the progression of mulder and scully's relationship during season 6 very well, and i have nothing to add except that yes, mulder chose scully, this whole season is about mulder choosing scully, learning to appreciate her and to express that appreciation the way she wants him to. diana really is irrelevant in the end.

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Sway Me Now

Billy Butcher Masterlist

Summary: For one mission, they have to work together. But after last time, can Butcher really trust her? As tension grows, they inevitably end up on the dance floor and have to dance to keep their cover. And right there, all the anger turns into something else. Can they really finish up the mission now? Pairing: Billy Butcher x F!Reader Rating: 18+ Warning: implied smut but nothing explicit, The Boys level of violence, ennemy to lovers, tension, sexual tension, anger, dancing, fighting Word Count: 3946 ​​ A/n: This fic was requested by @mightyhemsworthy​! So sorry it took so long!

Don’t forget to leave a feedback!

It wasn't his idea. Truth was, he was completely and irrevocably against it. But Hughie had the annoying capacity to convince everyone, including him. As soon as he used his secret weapon, his puppy eyes, everyone flinched.

"It's a shitty idea," he repeated for the hundredth time. Running his hand slowly through his beard, Butcher looked in the mirror to observe himself from all angles. He hadn't worn anything this fancy in so long.

The costume was very beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The black fabric was soft to the touch, a little reflective, showing its expensive price. The white button up shirt was a little tight so Butcher didn't hesitate to untie his bow tie to loosen a button.

"Who would have thought you could rock a suit."

Butcher closed his eyes and let out a long, telling sigh. That voice, he could never forget it.

"Who the fuck let you in, luv?"

His eyes still closed, Butcher turned to face the woman who haunted his nights… Both in a good and in a bad way.

"The little guy with the blue eyes. He's the one that called me and begged me to come here for your shitty plan."

Butcher's lips twitched in an uncomfortable spasm. Why did it have to be her, out of all the possible choices?

"Not. My. Plan," Butcher finally opened his eyes to place them on the woman in front of him. And for once, he was glad he could keep an unfazed face in any situation, because the view in front of him...

Y/n was leaning against the door frame. Her silhouette illuminated by the light behind her made her look like an angel… but he knew the demon hidden behind her beauty. She wore a red dress so tight, the fabric looked and probably felt like a second skin. The length came below her knees, but there was a slit on the side that went up to her hip, exposing her leg. Butcher couldn't help but stare at that bare part, exposed flesh that made him salivate. After long seconds of impossible scenarios passing through his mind, he managed to raise his eyes. The top of the dress was low cut just enough to show off her assets but also hid some to leave room for the imagination.

To finish up her look, her hair was curled and tied in a bun, small strands falling on either side of her face.

So lost in the contemplation of the woman in front of him, Butcher didn't immediately notice that she was doing the same to him. Her eyes roamed up and down her body, burning and interested in the sight.

He wasn't used to being looked at like that. Not in a long time, at least. Feeling himself losing control over her expressions, Butcher cleared her throat to bring the focus back to what was important and what she was there for. The mission.

Y/n was biting her lip in interest when he spoke.

"Did Hughie tell you his plan?"

-

“Alright. So the target’s name is Edmundo Rodriguez. I texted you a picture.”

Sitting at the bar, Butcher was sipping a nice glass of strong whiskey when M.M's voice rang loudly in his ear. By reflex, he tried to remove the piece from his ear, but a hand was faster and stopped him.

“We got the picture,” the person next to him muttered discreetly against her wrist, her silver bracelet hiding the microphone allowing her to communicate with the base of operations. The truck was parked further on the road outside the manor, M.M and Hughie ready to guide them if necessary. Y/n slid the phone on the counter by his drink so Butcher glanced at it quickly.

“That motherfucker looks like all the other motherfucking in here, how the hell are ye gunna find him, eh?” 

“I don’t care how you do!” M.M's voice once again sounded loudly in his ear. Butcher grimaced. He definitely hated this plan. Hated the mission. “Just do it. Target should be in the VIP section.”

“Sure thing, we just need to get in there now, do we?”

Turning his head to the left and then the right, Butcher mentally noted everything around him again. The room was full of people, cocktails in hand, dancing, talking and laughing out loud. A real bunch of money cows, good at milking the poor to fill their pockets. And they called that event a charity gala? It stank of scam.

The phone disappeared from the counter as Y/n grabbed it. Butcher followed the gesture and watched her put it back in her bag. Again, his breath got caught in his throat at the beauty of the woman next to him, and his frustration grew.

“Are you gonna stop being a baby for one night?” She sighed, turning to him completely. After crossing one leg above the other, she leaned against her hand, her elbow against the counter. She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly judging him with her gaze.

“Only when you’ll stop being a greedy bitch,” Butcher replied, mimicking her posture to face her as well. He grabbed his glass and put it to his lips, but decided not to drink from it at the last second. “Why are you even here eh? We don't need ya, like we didn't need ya last time either.”

"Oh, if that's how you say thank you, then fuck you!" Straightening slightly, Y/n swiveled towards the bar to order a drink, but Butcher interrupted her.

“I won’t say thank you, hun, not after what you did last time.”

“You’re still mad about that!” 

This time, the two were face to face, standing on their feet, their faces so close they could feel each other’s body heat.

“I’ll always be mad that you betrayed us and joined the fucking enemy.”

The only reason she could answer him at the same height was the 4 inch heels that adorned her feet. “You know why I did that!” Noticing she was raising her voice, Y/n looked around. Her gaze wandered behind Butcher for a moment, then she grabbed his arm to pull him even closer to her. “Now's not the fucking time. I'm there, like it or not,” she whispered, her face so close he could admire every detail of her beautiful eyes. “The guards are looking at us, we're making a scene and getting too much attention so you’re gonna shut up and follow my lead.”

Butcher had no time to protest or answer, he was being dragged on the dance floor. Once they were in the middle, Y/n looked to the left where the guards were and Butcher followed her gaze discreetly. Indeed, three men were staring intently at them. Cursing himself for accepting the mission, and more importantly, agreeing to go with her, Butcher didn’t notice the song had changed. He understood only when he felt his hands switch places to end up against a fabric that was soft to the touch. Turning his head in front of him, his eyes widened as he noticed he was now holding her waist.

“Follow my lead,” Y/n hissed through her teeth. Already, her hips were moving side to side and she was raising her arms to wrap them around Butcher's neck. Caressing the back of his head, she moved closer to him enough to press her chest against his torso. Still in shock of having her so close, Butcher didn't move. A strong pain in the foot brought him back to him with a choked moan of pain. "Sway me now!"

She was crushing his foot with her heel? Perfect! He was awake now.

Suavemente, bésame

Que quiero sentir tus labios

Besándome otra vez

Prior to The Boys, Butcher had been to many events that required dancing. To not embarrass and shame Becca, he had learned and practiced relentlessly. It had been a while now since his last dance, his body responding to the movements by remaining rather stiff, but it was enough. And the confused but satisfied expression of the woman in his arms confirmed he wasn’t too bad at it.

Cuando tú me besas

Me siento en el aire

Por eso cuando te veo

Comienzo a besarte

One foot in front of him, Y/n moved hers back and they repeated the movement a couple of times to the beat of the song, swaying their hips. Then, Butcher grabbed Y/n's hand, kissed it quickly before spinning her on herself several times. After a few turns, he grabbed her against him and helped her down to the ground by holding her hands. Y/n slid, one leg in front and the other behind as she did the splits. Applause sounded around them, but neither paid attention to their spectators. Once on the ground, Y/n stuck her legs together and Butcher spun her around to build momentum and lift her up. With a strong, precise movement, she seemed to fly through the air for a moment, her legs splitting again but in the air this time.

Y si te despegas

Yo me despierto

De ese rico sueño

Que me dan tus besos

Suavemente

Grabbing her by the waist, Butcher gently helped her land on her feet. Then, they pulled back, Y/n moving her hips and caressing her body as she kept her gaze on her partner. Pointing at him, she motioned for him to come closer, which Butcher did, a smile on the corner of his lips. Swaying, he advanced towards the young woman so that she ended up in his arms again. His hands rested on her waist again, but the heat had already risen too much, and his fingers wandered lower on her body, inviting her to sway her hips even more.

It was hot. Their bodies touched more often than they stayed apart. The two were sweating as the song struggled to finish. The 4 minutes of the song felt like an eternity, but soon, that eternity was over. The song ended as Butcher rocked Y/n backward against his arm. Her hair, surprisingly still in her bun even after the dance, tickled his arm. Her back was arched perfectly and he was holding one of her legs with his other hand.

The sound of their rapid breathing filled the room full of people watching them, but it felt like there were only two left in the world. Nothing existed anymore, nothing could reach them in the bubble they were in. The tension was palpable, the dancing had warmed them both up in a way they hadn't expected. Of course, Butcher knew how incredibly beautiful Y/n was. And sexy. Fuck, she was so hot. But that moment they had lived... It felt more than that.

Butcher stared at Y/n's lips with one longing...

His face moved closer and closer to hers, and she didn't do anything to stop him. He could feel her breath on his lips, feel the fruity scent of her lip gloss tickle his nose, they were so close… when a round of applause startled him.

Butcher was getting his dance partner back on her feet when a voice rang in his ear.

“Nice way to get attention, well done.” He had no idea how they saw the dance back in the truck, but they knew and it made Butcher lose focus once more.

Y/n was faster than him and leaned over to salute and thank the crowd. Butcher did the same, and then the band resumed the songs and people started talking as if nothing had happened.

Time seemed to slow down as the dance looped through his head. People talked to him, but he didn’t listen to any of them. He could almost taste them, her lips, feel their warmth on his… And he wanted to. So bad. God, he was screwed. He only hoped she didn’t notice how strong her hold was on him and how bad he wanted her. That would be fucking embarrassing.

"Y/n-" Butcher turned his head towards her, but she wasn't near him anymore. He blinked a few times and looked around, panic slowly rising in him. She was there and then, gone. Raising his watch to his mouth, Butcher let his fear pour out.

“M.M! I lost Y/n!”

“Relax,” the voice answered. “You spaced out for a while Butcher. She’s doing her job. Look towards the bar.”

A long sigh of relief escaped Butcher's lungs when he found the red dress among the people sitting at the bar. He was walking towards her when he finally noticed that she was not alone. Sitting next to her, a man was talking to her. Although he was far away and the man had his back turned to him, Butcher could still notice the smirk stamped on his face as he looked at her, his big stubby hand going up on Y/n's thigh. His dirty fingers slid through the slit of the dress to caress her leg… And that was his limit.

Butcher saw red. Not waiting a moment, he rushed to the bar, pushing the other guests around without worrying about attracting attention. He was almost there when a waiter stepped directly into his path.

“Un entrée vous ferait-il plaisir, monsieur?”

Butcher recognized his voice before realizing that the server was speaking French. “Frenchie, get out my way now.”

“Saw your little dance there, impressionnant,” Frenchie, disguised as a waiter, nodded. Of course, they had to send him inside in case something turned bad. That was how M.M knew about the dance, Frenchie had a great time describing what he was seeing. “But now’s not the time to screw your cover. Take a little pain crouté and let her work.”

“I don’t care about your food!” Drowning in his anger, Butcher's hand went off on its own and the plate filled with probably very expensive appetizers flew through the air to end on the floor in a deafening din. Of course, this caught everyone's attention, including the guards, the man at the bar, and Y/n. “Leave me alone Frenchie,” Butcher hissed through his teeth. Frenchie lowered his head, muttered something in French and left. Butcher was about to continue on his way to the bar when a hand landed on his chest to stop him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Y/n whispered and glanced behind her where she had left the man. She quickly waved at him to let him know it would take her a moment and then turned to Butcher. “Why are you making a fucking scene!”

“Why are you flirting with the first guy you see, eh?!” Butcher clenched his fists, casting a hateful gaze toward the bar and the man.

"Are you fuckin-" Not finishing her sentence, Y/n grabbed Butcher by the wrist and led him out of the room. Once they were in an empty hallway, she stopped and turned to him. Certain she would only try to find more excuses for her actions, Butcher was surprised to see that look on her face.

Her beautiful eyes were sad, filled with overflowing tears. Her eyebrows were furrowed, clearly disappointed in his behavior. She let go of his wrist and Butcher felt the chill creep up his spine as she pulled the phone out of her bag to show him the photo.

“Why are you showing me the target again!” He exclaimed, raising his voice louder than he liked.

“Because I was with him at the bar! Are you blind?!”

“I knew it, you’re gunna go with the enemy again!” Clapping his hands over his head, Butcher was about to leave the mansion, fuck the mission, when a hand forced him to stay put.

“How can you think I would- I was seducing him to get the fucking key! Yanno, for the safe that contains the fucking documents we need to destroy Vought!”

Butcher lowered his hands. It was like his body weighed a ton and gravity was pulling him down. He hadn't thought of that. However, that didn't calm the anger he had been feeling ever since he saw her again.

“How do you want me not to think that after last time!” No matter how hard he tried to calm down, the anger and that negative feeling ate up inside him like an ever-growing black cloud.

Pain passed over Y/n's face. Her eyes filled with water again. No tears rolled down her cheeks though. 

“I had no choice…”

Her voice had become so quiet, he had difficulty understanding her. "What?"

“Last time. Monaco. I had no choice. They had my dad, and if I didn’t give them the documents…” Lowering her head, a lock of her bun finally fell over her eyes. “I didn’t want to… But I had to save my dad.” When she lifted her head, a single tear spilled out of her eye and started rolling down her cheek, but she wiped it away before it could sink too low.

“Why did you never tell me?” Butcher's voice was softer now. Although the betrayal was still fresh, he could understand. He would have done the same for Becca. He would betray his own team for the one he loved, no hesitation.

“Cause I failed that too,” she shrugged and smiled sadly. Her mouth opened to add something but her gaze shifted to the side and her eyes widened. "Oh shit."

“So that’s where you were, Cariño…” Butcher closed his eyes, a silent “fuck” mimed on his lips. Turning slowly, he got face to face with the man from the bar, the target, Edmundo Rodriguez. And he wasn’t alone. Three guards accompanied him, all armed with weapons. Edmundo shook his head and sighed. “What a shame it has to end before I can own you.” Butcher could feel a shiver of disgust and hatred wash over him at those words. “Oh, you wanted this, perhaps?” Raising a hand, Edmundo passed it through his sweater to pull out a chain and at the end of the chain, a key. The one they needed. “You thought me stupid. Tried to rob me. But who’s dumb now eh? Corpses don’t do well in stealing. Kill them.”

“Oh fuckin finally some action I’m good at.” Butcher smiled darkly. As the guards closed in on them, Butcher pulled off his far too expensive jacket and grabbed the gun hidden behind his back to point it at the nearest guard. However, he was already in front of him and with a quick swing, disarmed Butcher. His weapon fell to the ground and slid away much to the dismay of the man who took a punch in the face. His whole body twisted from the force of the hit and his mouth filled with blood. "Oh. You shouldn’t have done that.” Turning his head towards the guard, Butcher offered a bloody smile that made him take a few steps back. The guard had fear shining in his eyes… Even if he was the one with the gun. "Oh, don't be scared," Butcher was still smiling. 

It happened so quickly, the guard didn't stand a chance. Butcher grabbed him by the sweater with one hand, the other grabbed the wrist that held the gun, and in a strong and precise movement, headbutted him right in the nose. 

A crack was heard, followed by a scream.

Clearly stunned by the hit, the guard staggered and he put a hand to his face. Butcher took the opportunity to hit his knee with his feet, a strong and precise kick that bent his leg at an angle that shouldn't be possible. More cracks and yells of pain were heard. The guard fell to the floor screaming, his gun falling from his hand, and Butcher didn't hesitate to press his foot against his throat and pressed. Purple slowly crept into the guard’s face as he squirmed under the boot, trying to get free and get oxygen. But Butcher didn’t let go.

A gunshot sounded so close to his ear that Butcher had the instinct to duck, but the bullet missed its target. Looking behind him, he could see that the fight wasn’t over. One of the guards was pointing his gun at him, and if he missed the first shot, he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Butcher was ready to drop to the ground, praying the bullets would miss him, but it wasn't necessary. Because one moment the guard was standing with a gun pointed at Butcher, and the next he was falling on the floor with a knife stuck in his throat. A few feet away from him stood Y/n, the covered side of her leg raised to show a belt filled with small knives strapped to her thigh.

"That's hot," Butcher couldn't help but say as Y/n picked up another knife and threw it at the last guard. Since the guard was busy dealing with knives being thrown at him, Butcher could pick up the gun the guard dropped, but it was unnecessary. Because one second later, Y/n skilfully jumped on the guard to stab him in the throat until he fell to the ground, motionless and choking in his own blood.

“Where’s Edmundo?” She asked, straightening her dress as if nothing had happened. She was barely disheveled, no cuts or wounds and above all, no drop of blood was on her person.

“I don’t care.”

Leaving the gun on the floor since he didn’t need it anymore, Butcher took the few steps that separated him from Y/n to immediately place his hands on her waist and pressed his lips to hers. It took her breath away, both with the force and the surprise of the intense kiss. She didn’t wait a second to respond, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. A low moan echoed in his ears as he slammed her against the wall, their lips parting just long enough for her to jump up and wrap her legs around his hips. "You're so fuckin hot," Butcher sighed and without waiting, brought his lips to hers again. One of his hands was used to support her while the other did not hesitate to slide under the slit of the dress to caress and grip her thigh.

The kiss was wild and filled with a longing and frustration that the two constantly felt. So needless to say, it only took a few moments for Butcher to undo his pants just enough to have access to what he needed.

-

Meanwhile, a French waiter who didn’t really have his place in this kind of event had intercepted a panicked person who was running towards the guardhouse. With a quick kick and a precise punch, he knocked him down, dragged him to a quiet place, bound and gagged him and finally, stole his key. Proud of himself for getting the key, he started searching for the two people under cover to tell them the good news. The mission was over, they had to leave before someone realized what happened.

After a while of searching, Frenchie finally found them…

Right in the middle of the hallway, caught up in an activity he wished he had never seen.

“Ah! Non, non non non! Not today! I’ll wait in the car!” Frenchie started to walk away, both hands raised in despair. But as the moans reached his ears, he cringed and shouted without turning back: “No, better than that, when you are done, just call a taxi! Au revoir!”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations @fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

[misc-obeyme]

Hello! :D

I simply can't stop thinking about Barbatos being insanely attracted and so deeply in love with MC that he don't make the effort to hide it anymore, but the problem is: MC doesn't actually think that he feels that way.

(I'm using female pronouns for better explanation, pardon my english 😔🫶)

Like, MC lives with many ancient and immortal beings who have lived for many many centuries and she is only a human who lived for a few years. In mc's conception, she doesn't see a reason why any of them would be attracted to mc in any way, so she just lives peacefully with them, not really expecting any romantic approach.

Mc and barbatos have a friendship, and mc is attracted to Barbatos (who isn't really?), but doesn't do anything about it. Kinda like the attraction you feel towards your favorite idol, you don't really make a move, but you wish you could get married.

Barbatos notices and kinda feels the same way, sending discreet signals when they were together. He finds it strange, because he sees her obvious interest in him, but doesn't do anything about it.

As time passes, Barbs feelings grow stronger and he grows frustrated and is determined to show MC his interest, his discreet moves now are obvious (only when they were alone bc its barb, cmon). When mc is talking he is just staring at her with such lovestruck eyes, blinking slowly and repliying to her in a flirty way. Mc only grows more and more flustered, not making any moves still.

It gets worse in a degree that once barbatos corners her against a wall and stares deeply at her soul, saying something bluntly urging her to do something since he knew she wasnt oblivious to the situation. Maybe in a teasing way, maybe serious.

I dont know if my ideas came out clear and I honestly think I'm a little lightheaded bc of anti-allergy meds, but this plot has been haunting my mind and I had to tell someone. Stay safe!! 🫶🫶🫶

Hi there, anon! While I'm a little concerned about medications making you lightheaded (like omg please rest and I hope you feel better soon!), I do think I understand what you're trying to say!

Because ahhh Barbatos he's so reserved. When I wrote my long fic, there's kind of a theme where the MC character doesn't believe that Barbatos returns their feelings. It's the cause of much angst and anguish, especially in the later chapters.

I think this is because Barbatos doesn't really express his feelings all that much. He's always calm and collected. He doesn't really get worked up about much of anything. Even when he's mad, it's like hidden behind a smile. The only time we really see him get truly angry is with Solomon in Nightbringer. (I mean there may have been other times but that's the only time I can remember.)

Anyway, I love the idea that he finally picks up on MC's feelings and realizes he has to start being more expressive with his own feelings. I kinda think he might realize that he only has so much time with MC, assuming they're still mortal. Like he's gonna hafta do something because time is short!

I personally am very fond of Barb being a tease, so I like the idea of him kinda teasing MC about it at first. But eventually he's going to get serious. If he thought MC really didn't understand how he feels and wasn't picking up on his teasing and maybe couldn't respond for some reason, he would choose to get serious and direct with them.

So yes, I think this is a delightful scenario and I am always rooting for Barbatos to confess his true love to MC lol!

[c0la-queen]

First of all I love your writing for eddsworld so much and I’m looking forward to all the other works you have in store!

Second I would like to make a little simple request :3

Any of the eddsworld boys (preferably Tom or Tord but any will work) with a reader that has a similar hobby as them. (Like how Tom likes music & playing the bass and stuff)

No pressure to do anything obviously! I just love your work! Keep being an amazing human being! Mwah! /p

You're so sweet! Thank you! Since answering this ask would be in the form of headcanons instead of a full drabble, I'll give you a treat and provide both Tom AND Tord!

Also I'm sorry that the 7 Minutes in Heaven fic is taking some time, I promise I'm working on it!

Reader with Similar Hobbies | Tom x Reader/Tord x Reader | Headcanons

---

Tord

Tord's main two hobbies are Engineering/Tinkering and Working Out/Boxing.

He's always had an affinity for inventing things, ever since he was young. To him, science just always made sense. He has big visions for the technology of the future, and big plans to be the one that brings that change to the world.

If you were the same way, he'd silently adore it.

He'd give you full access to his garage/laboratory/workspace area. After a few months, he'd even clear off a space at his work desk for you.

Tord doesn't say it, but you can tell he's relieved to have someone who can actually understand his mad scientist ramblings. He'll seek you out every time he gets a new idea, or if one of his previous ideas has a new breakthrough.

Its honestly probably the most he ever talks to anybody.

You're the only one who ever gets to see his blueprints and formulas. He'll let you check his work, make corrections or suggestions with your favorite color ink pen. He'll take this to the grave, but at this point he seeks out your approval of them. Having you enjoy his work gives him so much serotonin.

As for his interest in physical fitness; that comes naturally with the territory - child soldier and all.

For the Reader that fits into my Eddsworld bubble, what most likely happens is that she expresses an interest in working out to Tord - who takes that as an invitation to involve her in his workouts.

He knows that he needs to start easy, so you start joining him on his morning jogs. It is... a process, for sure.

Tord gets up at what you call the "ass crack of dawn" (he couldn't tell if he was more offended or amused by that) and you weren't used to that.

He also had better stamina than you and you had to take frequent breathers during the jog. He would never keep going without you, though. The other three would kill him.

Tord makes sure you get plenty of water and a good breakfast after every jog. He gives you praise and words of affirmation in his own stoic, aloof way. It always makes you smile.

He'll only move you up to working out if you want to. He won't pressure you. But.. if you do say you want to, you'll open up the Army Leader floodgates. He can't help it, really.

When you wake up the next morning, he has a fully fleshed out workout routine listed for your body type and health goals.

If you react well to sternness, he'll pull out the Leader Voice if you're close to giving up in the middle of a set. (You don't ask, but you're very curious about why he's so good at it)

If you don't react well to it, then he's adaptable. As they say, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. He'll shower you with praises, let you know you're doing such a good job for him. Sets incentives for you to finish the sets you're doing.

"Just a few more push-ups, and I'll make your favorite for breakfast." "If you can finish this, I'll buy you that cake you love." "Beat your record from last week, and I'll reward you with a kiss, Min lille soldat."

Ask him to teach you self defense, and he's ecstatic. One of the only things that's better than protecting you himself, is teaching you how to protect yourself. He knows that if he's the one who trains you, he won't have to worry that much about you being in danger when he isn't there.

Definitely isn't as tough as he is with his soldiers. You're not a soldier. He's not teaching you how to take down an enemy or die trying. You are his everything. His elsking. He is teaching you to defend yourself.

He has a little sparring mat set up in one corner of the garage. Its got some training dummies and a punching bag.

He'll start you off at the punching bag, making sure your form is correct, making sure you don't hurt yourself when you throw a punch. Once you get a handle on that, then he'll start sparring with you.

He goes easy on you, of course.

Unless you ask him not to.

Makes sure you know how to use basic self defense weapons, such as pepper spray or a taser.

However, once you get enough experience, he teaches you how to use a knife. Safely and properly, of course.

I can see him gifting you either one of his own knives from his collection, or getting you a brand new, custom knife. Either option is a big deal, with him. Cherish that thing with your life.

---

Tom

Tom, unlike Tord, is much more communicative about how happy your similar interests makes him.

He starts to rival Matt with how much he rambles to you.

This goes for either of Tom's two hobbies: Photography and Music.

Music is the most obvious one.

As I've said before, music is Tom's love language. Finding the words to express his feelings is hard for him, so he lets the music talk for him. (That might be one of the cheesiest things I've ever typed.)

He will make you so many playlists. It's not hard for him. He loves you in so many ways, he sees so many wonderful things about you. He'll make you 3 hour playlists about each one of those.

Also makes playlists about his favorite memories with you (see: She's Standing Outside the Bar with Me while I Smoke...).

He happily shares all of them to you. Sends you the link as soon as he finishes making the playlist. Once he knows you love music too, he has no shame about sharing his music taste.

Saves every single playlist you make for him. Listens to them all the time. He's listening to music in some way practically 24/7, so he has no shortage of time to enjoy every single playlist you've shared with him.

Probably has to fight back ugly tears the first time you ever made him a playlist. He loved how you got all shy and flustered as you presented it to him. Poor thing, you think he wouldn't like your music taste?

You could listen to songs that literally sound like garbage cans being smashed together in rapid succession, and he'd still love it - because its you.

He'd take you to his favorite record store for dates. It's one of his happy places, and he's practically buzzing with excitement to share it with you. He already knows where all the records of your favorite bands and genres are located, and drags you there like a child in a toy store. The two of you visit there frequently, to the point that the employees know you both by name.

You're the first one who gets to know when he learns a new song on his bass. I mean the moment he masters it, he's hunting you down like a blood hound with Susan in hand. (You don't mind, of course, you love hearing him play)

He will also, albeit extremely flustered about it, sing more often for you. Especially if you ask him to. How could he deny you?

No matter what instrument you play, he'll listen to you play it every day. Even the drums, or the banjo. To him, when its you, it's like an orchestra each time.

And if you sing? He's a goner. He'd demand you upload your singing to Sound Cloud, just so he can have your voice in his earbuds every day while he's at work.

More than once, he's fallen asleep listening to you sing. It's not his fault! He just loves you so much, its like you put him in a trance.

Ohhh and if you like the technical part of music? Like, the different meters and tempos and notes that make up music? Or if you know every single obscure fact about every single musician and band? He'd love it so much. You're such a little nerd and he thinks its so cute. Listens to you ramble about it with hearts in his eyes. Metaphorically.

Or if you write songs? He would beg you all pretty on his hands and knees to let him sing the songs that you write. If you agree, he's bonded to you for life. Never letting go of you.

And if you agree to sing or play music with him? That's practically a marriage proposal to him.

If you like photography, he's just as excited!

On days that you're not busy and he has a particularly exciting job booked, he'll let you tag along. (If the client asks, he says you're his assistant.)

Sends you all of his favorite pictures that he takes during work - though to be frank, he does that even if you're not interested in photography.

He has an album in his gallery full of the photos you send him. No matter how mundane; it could be a picture of Ringo just standing there, he'll still save it.

You are his main muse, he loves taking pictures of you. Has so many of them on his phone. If you tell him the same? That he is your muse and you have albums full of pictures of him? He's melted into the floor. He didn't think his heart could beat that fast.

Just like with music, he listens intently as you ramble about the technical side of photography. He'll even give you tips and suggestions on how to get better shots - only if you want them! He never wants to mansplain to you, or make you think you don't know what you're doing compared to him.

Happily does collaborative photo shoots with you anytime you ask. One of his favorite date ideas is traveling somewhere gorgeous, like a forest or mountain, or a nature filled park, and taking a walk with your cameras, both taking pictures of the different things you find together.

As a present, he'll get your favorite picture - be it landscape, animal, or a picture of the two of you - and get it printed on one of those cool metal prints, so that you can hang it on your wall.

Tom just loves you so much and getting to share his interests with you makes him unbelievably happy.

[4-linz]

Oops

Pairing: wooyoung x y/n

Genre: fluff, chaotic fluff lol

Warnings: some cursing(I gotta stay minimal with it tho bc I write these on my school comp 😭) , wooyoung is kinda panicking lol, wooyoung is called an attention whore but in a good way pls dont hate me 😭 ,reader is called ning like 3 times , grammar might not be correct I'm tired lol, I think that's it

Summary: wooyoung is confused on how you got into his heart, he never told anyone about his mental list he made, not even san so that should say something, so how did you do it? Was its on purpose to mess with him? Or on accident

Wc. 1.69k

A/n I wanted to write and I had just reread @yuyusuyu princess chronicles and I wanted to do something similar with wooyoung :) pls I'm dieing I h8 using ppls ideas but I'm in writers block and I need to write rn 😭 so creds to @yuyusuyu for the idea lol I hope this is good cuz I luv her work and I don't wanna ruin her reputation lol I also have a feeling this is gonna be a short fic bc again I'm in writers block and that's all i can take rn lolz

Wooyoung never thought he could find a relationship that was near the thing he and san had going on (even san doesnt know whats happening tbh), but here we are, you slowly winning over his heart. How? He doesn't know. He has a very very very very very- i can keep going but what i mean is he has a very secret procedure that even san doesnt know about, but it's a way you can take over his love life, so you somehow slowly completing the 5 steps was very concerning.

Step 1. Treat him like royalty

Well you don't have to bow down and worship him but you just have to treat him him like the mona lisa, praise him- and maybe worship him, he likes to be praised and feel noticed-attention whore is his middle name after all- so when you walk into the room with him and everyone else and you notice him first and COMPLIMENT HIM AND ONLY HIM?!?! He was feeling a little lightheaded, “ oh hi woo! I like your hair, it looks different! In a good way of course-” you said slightly rambling at the end “ oh- um yea… i um-” he stumbled out “ i uh WASHED IT, yea, yea i washed it." He said trying to redeem himself and act cool because seonghwa was looking at him weird. “ for once you washed it” san said scoffing, without him knowing- or did he? San had saved him from an awkward situation “HEY i do wash my hair thank you very much” he said huffing, pouting but quickly opening his eyes when he heard you laugh.

Step 2. Find him funny

(or just try to laugh at his ridiculous jokes)

The sound of your laughter filled his dorm, san had left to go out with Seonghwa, leaving him alone and so of course he invited you just so he could hang out with his now crush for a movie night!! Why else would he invite you over…?He found himself in a trance listening to your laughs, they sounded like music to his ears, literally he was listening to the rhythm in your laughs and thought they sounded so much like you, the beat matched your personality. ‘ wooyoung stop that's weird, and nothing like you.’ he said when he came out of his little bubble when ever he heard your voice tinted with worry as your friend was looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face and was very silent, which was very concerning given its wooyoung. The look of worry on your face made his heart flutter, where you really worried for him…? ‘ shit im fucked’ he thought

Stept 3. Worry/care for him

“ wooyoung? Are you in there?” your voice sounding small compared to the yelp wooyoung let out upon hearing your voice in his dorm.” OW SHIT, ning is that you?!” he yelped, he had hurt his leg and couldn't attend practice, him not being there worried you given he had always been there, so you went to his dorm. “Woo what were you thinking laying on the edge of the couch,be careful you could hurt yourself more if you do that?!” You said scolding him lightly,the worry in your face very clear,” you didn't hurt yourself more did you?, here let me get you some food so you don't have to walk.” wooyoung hoped you didn't notice the slight blush on his face when you lifted his chin forcefully checking to see if he hurt his face during the fall. “ Goddammit, step 3 , 2 more to go and I'm done for..” he mumbled “ did you say something?” you said, peaking your head out of the other room. “ OH-UM-NO '' he quickly said, hoping you don't suspect anything and hoping you truly had not heard anything he said.

Step 4. Being rough with him.

(do i really ahve to explain?)

Wooyoung's heart fluttered when you cupped his face and moved it left to right to see if he had hurt his face, he had fallen trying to learn how to skate. He had failed horribly but that's not what mattered right now, what mattered was you were holding his face. “ Wooyoung, I told you, you have to be more careful” you said with a slight pout, worried about your best friend. You had to put your whole body strength into helping him up because he was so zoned out all his body weight was on the floor. But the words that snapped him out of his little trance were enough to heal him right then and there “ when we get home do you wanna cuddle and watch a movie?”

Step 5. Physical affection.

“Ninggg hurry up and bring the popcorn” wooyoung shouted, he had been alone in his and sans dorn because apparently san couldn't deal with wooyoung's ramblings about you so he left with seonghwa, of well at least that means he can invite you over more right? Wrong, this is the first time in weeks he's invited you over because he couldn't muster up the courage to ask you.” I'm right here..?” you said laughing when he turned around and saw you, his eyes widened in amazement on how you could find that much popcorn in his house, where it came from? No idea he's been trying to find popcorn for a month and has found none so how did you find some? No clue, but he didn't really care as his heart picked up when you sat very close to him. Very close.and his heart picked up even more realizing you two were watching a scary movie. He could be your knight in shining armor and hold you close when you got scared. Well you ended up holding him like he's a baby but that didn't matter to him even though he's going to be very embarrassed later. What mattered right now to him was trying to calm his heart, from the jumpscares and the fact that you two were there cuddling?! Mostly the first option , but hey those things were scary, don't judge>:(

Another time he found himself in this situation was on his birthday, wooyoung and you tangled up in each other limbs, the others where getting the place ready so of course you offered to keep him busy while the others fixed up the dorm for him, so you invited him over, which he couldn't say no to you. He was laying on you the couch and you were running your hands through his hair, which in hindsight helped him alot with what he was going to ask you. You had single handedly finished all 5 steps without knowing? Or maybe you did know? He doesn't know but he needs to ask you about it. It's been eating him alive for the past week. He knows he shouldn't ask on his birthday because what if you say no? But he couldn't wait because, what if you say yes? No birthday present could top that. Here he goes, his heart racing he manages to strangle out a “ hey ning…? “ ew he thought, why did it sound like that, he was cringing until he heard you say back “ yes? Did you need something?” you smiling down at him calmed him down a lot more than he thought “ can i ask you something?” he took a deep breath “ of course, anything woo” you laid your phone down to put all attention on him, still playing with his hair. “ i um- do you um “ he stuttered “ dammit” he said sitting up “ is there something wrong wooyoung?” concern filling your face “ i like you. Like I ‘like like’ you.” he said getting it out there, but before you could say anything he continued “ and i was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime…?” he couldn't look you in the face because he felt like he would explode. For real he was holding his breath for so long he felt like he was going to burst. “ woo i-” you giggled and he turned around ready to be faced with rejection. “ of course i will” you cupped his face and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He looked like a lost puppy, eyes wide and frozen in shock “ wait you- you like me to?” ugh he sounded like a 2nd grader finding out their crush likes them back. “ Of course I do woo, who wouldn't love you?” you giggled at the end. Just as wooyoung went to speak he got interrupted by your phone going off saying it was time to bring him back to the dorm for his surprise.

Hwa: hey were done over here if you wanna bring him back

You: okay! But warn san if he's coming back to stay with wooyoung lol

Hwa: oh good lord

Smiling at yourself you took him by the hand and told him you two where going back to his dorm for something.Lets just say he went back to the dorm holding your hand and he was the happiest birthday boy in the world. But wooyoung had one more question before he went back to the dorm "wait so did you know about the list or not?" He questioned you "what list?" You questioned back "wait so your telling me you completed a whole goddammit list without knowing it ever even existed?!" He squealed out "Oops" you shrugged and laughed

[zephyrchama]

you're one of my fav blogger in this app! i love to read your blogs during night time, that's the only time when i have a clear mind for imaginations! sometimes i even laugh at your blogs causing my mom to wake up and she'll shut me up. but if i'd ask you something... How do you even get ideas for your blogs? is there any particular story you've made that happened to you too? ilysm, have a great day or night :) ❤️❤️

Aaaaa thank you so very much!! ヾ(｡・ω・)ﾉ☆ﾟ♥ (I've made you wake someone up with laughter! What an honor! >u< )

I honestly never ever respected anybody to read my stuff. When I made my first post, I sat on it for days and wondered if I should really upload it, and just made this blog for self-indulgent reasons. I was super surprised! I'm still surprised every day!

Some of my ideas are based on real events! The toe-biting one (it wasn't a human though haha), high-pitched noise, sneezing (it's me, I'm determined to bless everyone who sneezes), long hair, unnoticed, those are a few based on personal experiences. I have a lot of ideas saved up to potentially write about in the future as well. I used to live in an international dormitory in Tokyo where there were young adults from all over the world living together in an unfamiliar country. We're all people and we were all similar, but everyone was raised in a different culture so we had these slightly different quirks, and I like to think that's what living with the Obey Me characters might feel like.

Some of the posts are based on internet memes, like chin on palm, false eyelashes, and confident Levi. Some of them are based on other shows, like Mammon's First Grimm and the Watching MC sleep post from yesterday. I read a lot of manga/webtoons, especially in the otome isekai genre. Sometimes I get spin-off ideas from those, but if I go into a new series specifically looking for ideas to write about then I won't find anything. The OM characters have certain popular traits, like the bookworm and the otaku and the tsundere, but they're also unique characters that express those tropes in their own way! So I don't like drawing too many parallels between the OM cast and similar characters from other media because I don't want to label all otaku, bookworms, tsundere, etc. as being the same.

A lot of people send me asks and I really have to respond to them! There are a lot of fun ideas people sent in that I've been sitting on for too long. I never know how long or short to make the responses and I don't want to disappoint people with really short answers if they were expecting something big, but that makes me hesitate and I wind up accidentally not responding. ;u;

Sometimes an idea springs into my head out of nowhere and just have to get it out right away. I prefer to write at a computer but the April Fool's Day piece and Hide & Seek came to me so suddenly I literally couldn't focus on anything else, dropped what I was doing, and immediately posted it from my phone.

this got so long, oh no. you can tell i like to ramble when I speak on the internet hghakhj. I may be taking a bit of a break from writing soon because a big anime convention is coming up and I'm working a lot on cosplay again. I want to post some longer fics when I'm back though so come August I'd like to work on those. If people read my posts and haven't noticed, I also write whatever's on my mind in the tags! Sometimes it's quips about the fic, sometimes it's updates about this blog, sometimes I'm just saying nonsense.

This got really long I am so sorry but thank you so much!! You too, please have a lovely day or night or week in general and thanks for letting me ramble on your post!

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hey! You're writing is so cool! I'd love your opinion on Peter Quill x nurse!reader. Like, she is a home health aide for his grandpa and meets him when he comes back to Earth. Also, smut is not required but greatly appreciated ;)

hii!! that’s so sweet of you, thank you!! omg I love this idea! there’s no smut in this one sorry (just as it would be so long) I love smut, so if you want to send in a request for a smutty part 2, I would not mind😏 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

return to missouri

Peter Quill x f reader

wc || 937

warnings || none (?)

I searched long and hard for a pic of him that works for this fic, and this is the best I could do (had to screenshot it from youtube) 😭

masterlist + rules

taglist

Some may say that being a health aide nurse is one of the worst jobs a person could have, but that was not the case for you. You loved your job. Even more so, you loved taking care of your patient, Jason. 

You've been helping him most days for the last few years, so you've grown to know him very well. He's the kind of guy that's always got a new story to tell or the right piece of advice to share, the kind who's filled with great memories and wisdom. More often than not, he'd tell you stories of his late daughter, Meredith and grandson, Peter, who went missing shortly after her passing. You've grown so attached to the Quill family over the years that it somehow feels like you know Meredith and Peter, even though you've never met them. Well, you've seen them in photos and from memorabilia displayed around the house, but not in person.

When Jason would share memories, you couldn't help but feel your heartbreak. It seemed like he'd never quite gotten past their absence, and it was clear that he missed them dearly. Whenever Jason spoke about his grandson, there was always a little sparkle in his eye, a little slither of hope as if Peter was still out there. You weren't sure if he was in denial, but you wanted to believe him. He's gone through too much for one of his close confidants to doubt him.

-

Today, like any other day, you made your way over to Jason's at the crack of dawn to help get him ready for the day, helping him shower, dress, eat, anything he needed, you did it. 

"What do you want to do today?" you ask, turning to face him at the kitchen table.

"Did you pick up the newspaper?" he playfully questions, eyebrows quirking.

"You know what, I was hoping you wouldn't notice," you laugh, collecting a few clean glasses and filling them with orange juice. "I'll get it soon," you bribe, setting the cups on the table and sliding them to Jason and his wife. 

"I'll get it when I go to the store," she offers, kissing him on the cheek. 

After breakfast, his wife left for the store, so you and Jason went outside to the backyard to enjoy the sunny weather. Talking casually, just like usual, until you hear a knock at the door. Turning to look at him with a confused expression. "Be right back,"

Making your way over to the front door, flattening over your scrubs as you open it. "Hi," you greet, a friendly smile on your face. 

"Think I might be at the wrong... I'm looking for Jason Quill,"

Your face softens as if you finally put the pieces together, scanning his face, immediately recognising his green eyes from all the photos. "Yes, yes, come in," you grin, ushering him inside.

You lead him out to the back deck, and Jason mumbles, "Pete?" stumbling to his feet, instantly wrapping him in a tight embrace. 

You gave them both some time to catch up, making yourself useful around the house while they chatted, cleaning the dishes, changing bedding and prepping tea.

Filling the pitcher with ice, sliced lemons, and your signature iced tea blend, collecting a few glasses, you make your way over to the patio door, knocking politely on the inside of the glass. "Hi, thought you guys might be thirsty," you smile, setting the drinkware on the table. "Nice to finally meet you," grinning wider as you turn to face Peter. "I've heard so much about you,"

"I've heard lots about you, too," he returns a grin, nodding to his grandpa as he chuckles, "wouldn't stop talking about you,"

Softly laughing as you filled their glasses. "Same with you. Glad you're back," you smile, trying to pull away from his focused gaze. You clear your throat as you reluctantly turn to face Jason. "Med o'clock," you wryly smile, pulling out the small bag wedged between your armpit and rib.

After finishing up with Jason's meds, you collect the equipment, gathering everything in the bag before turning around to leave. They've missed out on the last thirty-plus years, and you didn't want to get in the way or overstay your welcome, so you decide to leave them be. 

"You can stay," Peter says quietly, patting the empty chair beside him.

"No, no, it's okay. You guys should catch up," you say hesitantly. "I'm sure he's sick of me," you joke, nodding to Jason with a small smile.

Peter looks up at you, his eyes slowly glancing over your face. "That can't be true," 

"Well..." you say playfully, gingerly stepping back, slipping back into the house. Smiling. "Maybe,"

A few short minutes go by and you feel a light tap on your shoulder, interrupting you from the cleaning. You turn around to see Peter sheepishly grinning at you. "Where's the uh— the bathroom?" he asks.

"Just down the hall," you point. "On the right,"

"Thanks," he lingers, looking like that wasn't all. "Um- are you— do you stay here? Or just come over?" he asks, scratching the back of his neck, seeming as though he was uneasy.

"No, I just come over. Do you think— are you gonna stay here?" you question, looking up into his soft green eyes. 

"Yeah, kinda got nowhere else to go," he awkwardly chuckles, momentarily averting from your gaze. "So, I'll be seeing you around?" he asks, his cadence sounding promising.

Smiling. "Yeah, I'll be seeing you around?" you ask, copying his tone.

He grins, backing away down the hall. "Oh, yeah."

@annielr @ugh09876554444 @spacetalbot @bubblezuku

[mywritingonlyfans]

Suck it and See /// Alex Turner X Reader! Smut.

context (prompt): the idea runs that Alex is in a honeymoon phase of dating someone who is not in his league. The fic takes place with them at university, I had Alex in mind during Humbug, he is dating a girl who is life of the party and a cheerleader, the two are goody and are very foolishly in love. You'll see a description of their moments together and realize how much they love each other, from him going to a famous college sports game just to watch you dance, car trips together, and you meeting the boys and going to a small concert at the band for the first time. I hope you like it!

Words: 8,5K.

warnings (and I'm describing the smut for those who just read it bc of that don't waste time): it's smut! from the middle to the end there's a description of him fingering you after you've had a brief anxiety attack and need to sleep, we have oral (male receiving), riding, also there's like a mild bulge and cockwarming kink.

You tiptoed your way through the bleachers, scanning the crowd for him. Although you hadn't explicitly asked him to come, dropping hints here and there had been your way of hoping he'd show up. Even though you would understand if he didn't make it, the thought of him not being there made you feel sad.

Anyway, he would pick you up there in a few seconds after the end of the game, since you had agreed to spend the weekend with some of his band friends (and friends' girlfriends). You knew them from looks in the hallway and a few gigs you went to see, but you never had a proper interaction with any of them.

Although you were aware of your acquired view in that environment, and didn't care much, you hadn't dated many people from the classes, in fact you had never related (or had sex) to anyone from there but Alex, and even though you have mean comments to be heard, it was clear that nobody cared about it, at most the students found it curious.

“How was last night?” Your best girl asked, which by your happy face, she was already sure of the positive answer.

“It was great,” the butterflies in your stomach were still present, as well as your sweaty hands from having been experiencing it in your mind ever since, and your hot face wasn't able to hide it.

“Was sex with Alex that good?” There was judgment in her voice, you couldn't read whether it was irony or not, yet you elbowed her. “Did he do anything? Or was all the work left for you?”

Then, hiding your face in your hands, you understood that she just wanted a reason to embarrass you. Asking her to keep her voice down, she agreed with a laugh, waiting for more information from you, which was expected. It was your first time with Alex, and you had been nervous, something that was unusual from her perspective, so she wanted to know how it went, like each detail of it.

You decide to withhold yourself from a lot of the particulars, knowing she would understand, just sharing something like, "He's shy, but in a good way, uh, y'know, he's observant and he made good use of it." You bit your lip, unable to contain a smile. Your head swelling again with the way he held you, made you sigh loudly and let out so cute muffled moans as you marked him. You didn't know how, but it had been intimate and at the same time so sexy, the kind that both ends with tears about to escape your eyes. You couldn't wait to have him again.

She nodded, taken by her expression of pure bliss, concluding with a small, “It’s nice that you have him, I'm glad for you, he seems you are a great guy.”

And although happy, with those words, you also felt intrigued, Alex was your complete opposite most of the time, and as much as you had no doubts that he liked you, you were afraid of him realizing that he could get someone better without much effort.

As you were lost in your own mind, your friend grabbed your shoulders before you could sink into your sadness. She turned you to the side and smiled, noticing the joy on your face as you saw him there. "Wow, you really got Turner to come to a school game."

You didn't have time to respond as you eagerly waved at the curly-haired mess figure in your field of vision. Alex seemed serious, almost as if he didn't want to be there. Your heart sank into your chest for a few seconds until he found you among the girls. His hands were in the pockets of his jacket, and if it weren't for his smile and bright eyes at you, you'd think he was regretting coming. You jumped up excitedly, waving your arms even more, and he reciprocated with elated waves.

The smile was shy as he brushed his hair back, looking motionless in a secluded corner, he blew you a kiss, making a few people notice him, bringing color to his cheeks, but honestly nothing mattered, your Alex was there. You throw him a peck as well before returning to your position on the back court, and without hesitation, he pretended to catch it, putting it in his pocket. Amazed with how happy you were to have him there, like he could forget all the negativity he had faced upon entering the place.

You did your best at the dances and pirouettes, feeling a little self-conscious knowing he was watching. Even though you knew he wouldn't judge you, you couldn't shake off the thought that this wasn't his ideal scenario. But still, he was there, and you knew he liked you. That was what mattered.

The game ended, and you and the girls announced it. You thanked people for watching, but you walked up to Alex without even looking directly at whoever was talking to you. He kept the smile on his face, opening his arms for you. Without even realizing it, you impulsively threw yourself on his neck. He wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you up a little, and politely, he pulled your skirt down, leaving his hand there to prevent it from going up (you had learned that it became his habit, you thought it was cute and one day, maybe, you would tell him that you were wearing shorts underneath). You stuck your nose in his hair, letting his curls nestle you as he buried his face in your neck, taking in your scent for comfort.

As soon as your feet hit the floor, you both looked at each other affectionately, in a deep silence as if there was no one around screaming their lungs out of their chest. You took a step towards him, and you kissed him. One of those messed up ones you can talk about the taste of the last gum that the other chewed in yearning for such a moment to arrive. His tongue was soft and his hands roamed over your body in light squeezes, it was like being wrapped by calm. Your lips were cold, but his warmth enveloped you. It was quick, but special, for both of you. You had never kissed in public like this, and you could feel the eyes on you. His hands stayed on your waist, keeping you close to himself, and your eyes stayed fixed on his lips, unable to meet his puppy's brown eyes. He kissed your cheek, then forehead, distributing several pecks there. He always did it, and you loved it every time.

"Sorry for being late, Matt needed the car," he explained, taking off his jacket and giving it to you right away, placing it around your shoulder before kissing your head. "Keep it, you look cold." He realized he was right as soon as his fingers touched yours, not that he wasn’t sure of it when your lips met his. His eyes barely met you there and you could tell how nervous he was.

You hugged the jacket close, feeling the warmth and comfort of his scent. "I don't mind, I'm just glad you're here," you said, simply as you were squeezing his hand into yours, mixing both sweats. "I know this isn't your favorite place, so it means a lot to me that you came tonight."

Alex actually found the people there with little perspective of experience, as if they were there to please something or someone. However, while that was his thought of you in the beginning, well before he started to obsess about being observant over you and fill your closet with not-so-usual friendly letters, he knew you were there for your hobbies and resumes, he could tell you genuinely liked to dance, consequently of being there with your friends, he did not misjudge. He actually enjoyed seeing you in the colorful, confetti-covered skirt, smiling as you were being embraced by the music.

He rubbed his thumb into your palm, blushing like a schoolboy. "I'll be here as many times as necessary," he said. "I like to see you happy."

He placed his hand on your lower back, leading you out to the car, you still had a goofy smile on your face, just like he had his ears flushed, you couldn't wait to have him there waiting for you more often.

…

He sifted through his belongings, handpicking a few tapes and placing them onto your lap. "Take your pick," he said, anticipation in his voice.

You examined the options before you, eyeing a familiar purple cover photo. "Oh my god, it's Kate Bush!" you exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. Even as he focused on the road ahead, you could feel his presence beside you.

It was dark, the borrowed car was small, but it still couldn't be more special.

"Matt mentioned that you were a fan," he said.

"And you went and got it for me?" you asked eagerly, pressing play right away.

He nodded, watching as your smile grew with every note.

Before he could say anything, You squealed excitedly, pausing to kiss his cheek quickly, trying to avoid any possible accidents. Feeling comfortable with him, you mimicked Kate's vocals, loud in your exaggerated facial expressions to copy your muse. He couldn't help but chuckle, grateful to Matt for giving him the tape.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, lil’ one," he whispered, his enthusiasm matched by your excitement for the lyrics. He clearly couldn't see himself in any other state than happy to see you well and with him.

He didn't know the lyrics, nor the instrumentation but he didn't fail to encourage you to continue, like a proper number 1 fan.

"Did you know that David Gilmour kind of discovered Kate Bush?" you asked, pausing for breath.

"I've heard that somewhere," he replied, prompting you to elaborate.

"It's like we're all interconnected, isn't it?" you said, solemnly glancing his way before turning back to the road, tapping out the remaining melody with your fingers. "I kind of like the thought of it."

"Yeah, it's a nice thought," he agreed, feeling his heart warming at each second. Not wanting to let the matter drop, he continued. "So, have you been checking out any of the bands I like?"

And suddenly, things seemed slower, like everything was in the right place, you noticed Alex's relaxed face, in a soft smile as you were realizing that he only had that look when he was with you, in any other situation, in classes, cafeteria or gigs, he remained unbothered, which you found charming, but you must admit, you preferred what you had now.

As he placed his large hand on your thigh, you couldn't help but smile. He didn't move up or down, but the warmth and comfort he brought you was all you needed. You placed your palm over his, running your fingers through his long ones. The feeling of his skin touching yours, for as short as it is, filled you with a sense of enjoyment.

"I have," you said, feeling a bit bashful. "I wanted to hear what you liked, and I actually found one that I really enjoyed."

His eyes widened, and for a moment, you thought he might crash the car, but Alex was deep down to earth, so you would be fine. "No way! You liked Leonardo Cohen?" He concluded the obvious. Last night, after spending hours with you, he'd done a dissertation on the composer, he'd come home and beat himself up for making you listen to him, never imagining you'd actually hear it for yourself.

"I did," you confirmed, knowing he was overreacting in his Alex-like manner, which means he was giving you his unbothered face in a failure to hide a huge smile, like you wouldn't notice. "Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin," you sang, turning your imaginary microphone towards your hand. He looked genuinely thrilled, as if he had won the lottery.

"Dance through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in," he continued, belting out the lyrics with love. Cohen's words about being in love sounds the same way about how he had feelings for you, it seems far-fetched, but Alex was never one to spare feelings, which was also why he had made you hear so much about his favorite singer.

You pretended to play the guitar, creating the sounds with your mouth, and suddenly, the small space was alive with music. You were both so happy at that moment.

And so it continued on every small and long trip you took together, with your favorite artists and his. Little did you know that nights like these would be repeated many more times.

…

You stopped in a dark place, sweat had broken out on your hand and Alex could tell you were nervous being out in the middle of nowhere.

"Al, I don't want to be alone." You said in a sleepy yet shaky voice.

He didn't question it, just as he didn't even consider doing this to you, he himself didn't think about tackling a ramshackle gas station alone so he could take a piss.

He nodded to calm you down, the discomfort was clear on your face, you were pessimistic in terms of worries, Alex had already realized that, he couldn't even imagine the scenarios in your head, but he still needs to get rid of it.

"Look, I'm going to go outside, close the door and use the tree outside," he said quickly, feeling the color rush into his face. "Just don't look at me, y'know, it'd be awkward. I won't drop out of sight or leave you alone, I promise."

You nodded, unable to look at him. Your hands went to the radio, turning the music up a little more (you wanted to avoid having to listen to him pissing, it was too intimate for such a short amount of time), and then you conceded that it sounded like a good idea.

It took a short time, soon he had already returned, used gel alcohol that he had stuck in his backpack and claimed that he felt better before apologizing for which you said was not necessary. You appreciated that he listened to you, it was something simple, but that you didn't feel so used to.

"I need to change, can you close your eyes?" He just chuckled, putting his hands to his eyes, hearing you laugh too. He felt that this was the right place at the right time, you were together and none of that feeling weird made him happy to be yours.

You, who already have the dress in your hands, took off your T-shirt and tiny skirt, as well as the small shorts, which were part of the uniform and replaced them with a light and flowery dress, without forgetting, Alex's jacket returned to your shoulders. The car windows were tinted and you trusted that no one would see you, and even Alex, who you thought would try to outwit you, didn't even dare to move.

"All right, you can look now,"

Alex let his eyes hover over you, deciding to like the dress and how it hugs your body, the knee socks became more present, making your thighs properly show, Alex felt the air go out of him a bit and before you could flinch in embarrassment he interrupted you. "You look beautiful, I like the dress and the combination it makes with my jacket."

You smiled excitedly, making relief clear. You just wanted to get more comfortable, you still had hours of driving to do, and even though you felt your tired eyes taking over you, you wanted to keep Alex company.

Alex saw that you were tired, he hadn't said anything, but he knew how to read you. You had trained from an early hour for the game finals, in addition to having been looking forward to it, not to mention that in the midst of all that, you still had your classes, you deserved a proper nap.

With eyes on the road and steering wheel, he said you could sleep if you wanted, that he didn't mind.

"I don't want to leave you alone," you both knew that was a lie, you were never good at trying to let tiredness not overcome you. Still, Alex thought it was the cutest thing.

"You will not, you'll be right 'ere by my side, puppet."

Your soft chuckle filled the car, he helped you lay down the seat so you could lie down as far as you could (he suggested you get in the back seat, but you really wouldn't leave him alone), he turned the music down and then your eyes went to the window for a few seconds, admiring the stars but soon turning your attention to Alex.

"Do your friends know about me?" You asked solemnly, curious but without sounding indiscreet, you genuinely needed to know.

"I mean, they do, y'know," he said it like it was obvious, but not invalidating your lines, just encouraging you to build on it.

"I know they know me by sight, but you don't know who I am, they just know that I'm with you." And it was true, you exchanged hellos and waves in the hallway and that was all, you rarely interacted with them when Alex was with you, because of class schedule anyway. "Like, what do they think of me? I can be a bitch in their minds, a bore or a petty girl that will ruin your weekend,"

He chuckled at seeing through his nose and continued, "Wouldn't let them think that of you," he didn't sound hurt, he wasn't stupid for not understanding that you're an abyss out of his league, even more so in social terms. "Actually, it's like they don't believe I'm dating you."

You closed your eyes tightly, embarrassed and denied, "That's not true, Al."

"Oh, you'll see," it was obvious, that after having you around, the boys wouldn't shut up about it.

He had a goofy, comfortable smile on his face, you could see him in the dim lighting, hair set in lovely curves and shirt rolled up to his elbows, you wanted to scream that you loved him but it seemed too soon.

Silence filled the void, just the noise of the car speeding filling the room. He thought you had fallen asleep until another sleepy question from you surfaced, he liked that you were comfortable with him, whether in presence or in speaking whatever comes to your mind.

As Alex drove down the long and winding road, you felt yourself starting to drift off to sleep. But as your head lulled to the side, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of care for him. You opened your eyes and looked over at him, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Hey, Al," you said softly. "Do ya ever talk ‘bout me to your mum?" You imitate his accent, making his nose wrinkle funny.

Alex glanced over at you, a small smile on his face. "Of course I do," he said, as if that was not something of great importance to you. "She knows how much I care ‘bout you, I didn't deprive her of many details, I think, I'm quite talkative when it comes to her" And you knew it, you had never witnessed the experience with someone who had a good relationship with their parents.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "So, she knows what I'm like?" you asked, curiosity getting the best of you.

Alex chuckled. "Yes, she knows you," he said. "And I’m sure she would love to finally meet you, you know." He was being honest, he had imagined a few times what this would be like, he could tell you would get along.

You smiled at the thought of meeting Alex's mom. "I'd love to meet her too," you said. "She raised an amazing son."

Alex smiled back at you, his eyes never leaving the road. "Thanks," he said. "I'm glad you think so."

You fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sound being the soft hum of the car's engine. But then you spoke up again, your voice shaky with emotion.

"Al, do you see me in your future?" you asked, looking over at him with wide eyes.

Alex didn't hesitate for a moment. "Absolutely," he said, his voice firm and sure. You were surprised, although you would have answered the same immediately. "Even though we're both in college and we don't know where life will take us, I know that I want you in my life for such a long time, if you let me, y’know. I’m sure we'll find a way to make it work."

Your heart swelled in bliss, and you couldn't resist leaning over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. "I like that I’m with you," you said, your voice filled with tiredness and affection.

"Me too, more than anything," he replied, his hand reaching over to grasp yours, squeezing it tightly. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. "And I can't wait to see what the future holds for us, I can't imagine my future without you in it.”

…

You were sound asleep, your hand was resting on Alex's arm as he drove down the empty highway. He glanced over at you, a small smile on his face as he watched you sleep peacefully.

Suddenly, as if he was waiting for that, you jolted awake, gasping for air and clutching at your chest. Your body was in spasms as you struggled to catch your breath.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Alex said, his voice soothing as he reached over and rubbed your back. "Just take deep breaths with me, huh?"

You nodded, your eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling guilty for disturbing Alex's driving.

"Don't be sorry," Alex said firmly. "You're not bothering me. I just want to make sure you're fine, babe."

You leaned your head back against the seat, still breathing heavily. "It's just...a nightmare. I have these anxiety attacks sometimes, and they're always so hard to shake off."

"I know," Alex said softly. "I've been there with you before with you, remember?” He smiled sweetly, squeezing your hand in his. “We'll get through this, okay."

He pulled the car over to the side of the road and opened the windows and door to let in some fresh air. You watched as the sky began to lighten, the first rays of dawn peeking over the horizon.

"It's so beautiful," you murmured, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

Alex nodded. "Yeah, it is. You know what else is beautiful?” He added, soon regretting it when he realized that it could sound different from what he meant. “You, when you're at peace like this."

You blushed, making Alex less worried about what he had said, feeling grateful for his kind words. "Thank you."

He covered you with a comforter he had brought along, tucking you in and making sure you were warm and comfortable.

He stopped solemnly, watching you restless covered by the duvet, only your eyes stayed on him, your breathing was already steady and it just looked like you couldn't sleep anymore.

"Do you want me to stay still until you sleep?" He felt awkward with your attention focused on him, but he still asked, referring to the car. He wanted to be more than sure that you were feeling alright.

"No," you took a short break, your mind not being able to behave and take you elsewhere as you watched his hands on the steering wheel and lips reddened from nervous biting. And subtly, you grew softly panting again. "Actually, we could stay here for a while." You declared, loosening the duvet from your body, you were warm and it didn't seem like a passing thing, however much you still felt like you needed to sleep; maybe you were stressed about it, but you couldn't tell.

He arched his eyebrows, turning to you worriedly, only to realize that the lighting was awful and he barely even noticed things and just felt your eyes on him. "'kay, but you feel good, right?"

"Yeah, just can't sleep," you continued, bringing your hand up to him, wandering over his shoulder until your fingers were at the back of his neck, brooding in his warmth. "Come closer, I want to feel you." You pulled him to you.

His nose brushed your cheek, his lips brushed yours, soft and smooth in contrast to your sudden urgency. He leaned further into the seat, and as he kissed you deeper, you placed his hand on your waist. He pulled back a little, pressing his forehead to yours, and even though you couldn't see him properly through the dark, you could imagine how red his cheeks were. From his breath, he wanted to say something, but he was thinking, not being able to form words because he felt nervous knowing that you might be expecting more from him.

"I like how you taste," you whispered, pulling him by his hair and holding him tight. Feeling his breath on your face, you held his chin, licking his open mouth to the way up, stopping with a kiss on the nose. You laughed, noticing him more agitated, you liked the effect you had on him, and you sure had found yourself thinking over and over how you should use this more to your advantage.

Before he could kiss you again, you proceeded in a low voice, "I need a favor, if you don't mind me."

He nodded, still not speaking, you held him close, as much as you could, you had in mind that he was hardly comfortable in that position. Placing your mouth close to his ear, you ran the tip of your tongue there, feeling him shiver and continued, "I just thought you might help me sleep," you wished he could see your restless, pleading eyes. "I'm thinking about how your fingers made me feel last night, I don't want to just have to think about that." Not knowing how you felt so confident with him, there are things that aren't so easy to explain, you rested his hand that was squeezing your waist and guided it to your bare thigh. You'd be dumb if you didn't love seeing him goofy and lost when you talked to him like that, it was like you could see his breath failing and his face about to explode.

He sighed a small yes, almost unavoidable above a whisper. Without ado, heeding your calls—something you learned he would do as you said—he moved his warm hand up under your dress, squeezing the flesh of your hips before slipping his hand inside your panties. You couldn't hold back a moan, feeling comfortable and soon his lips were on yours again. He was hot, biting your bottom lip every now and then as you sighed, such a mesmerizing rhythm. His kisses were wet and filled the car in hesitant noises that made you soaked. Alex wished he could see you more than you wish you could see him yourself. His fingers were light on your clit, following a linear pattern that felt right as you spread more and more for him.

"Fuck, I can hear how wet I am." you breathed loudly, with difficulty.

Alex kissed you once more, trying to stifle your whimpers, he didn't want anyone to see, just as he didn't want anyone to disturb anything.

As soon as the tingling in your lower belly became present, you held Alex's wrist tightly, kind of not knowing what to do, your eyes closed and more moans came, Alex then pressed his thumb harder to your clit and let the fingers slide easily inside you. Your legs shook while you still held him, Alex was agile, skilled in a way that you had never imagined when you met him, he hadn't accelerated like most people did, he just followed your body's commands and kept it slow, building you up to get there deliciously, yet calmly, so you could enjoy every minute of it.

"You're so fookin' gourgeous." He let out, seeing your mouth parted, eyes closed and sweaty hair plastered to your forehead as you squirmed beautifully before him.

You opened your eyes, feeling exasperated, noticing that you were holding his shirt collar tightly, kneading it, then you realized that it was actually morning, now you could see his red and sweaty face perfectly.

With you nothing but breathless, Alex contemplated your beauty in silence, rubbing between your legs on the sensitive skin until you recovered. You had the liveliest face, lips more swollen and warm legs around his wrist while you still held him, but now more light. He felt like a sinner for thinking about how he wanted to fuck you in that car, little did he know that you would love the idea.

Soon, he took his hand away, letting you settle better on the seat and between the blanket, you looked calmly at him and he just smiled lightly, he felt good about that, he felt good about making you feel good.

Even though he felt awkward doing so, he fed his own thoughts this time, brought his joined fingers to his mouth, closed his eyes, and sucked them in, feeling you on his tongue. Hearing you moan at that, he felt even more uncomfortable in his pants, and then he did the same with the next finger.

You unashamedly pulled him to your mouth, kissing him hard and he felt surprised before he reciprocated you too. You pulled away with light little pecks, then you held his wrists to you, sucking them in with his eyes on you, you were acting as if that comforted you and Alex found himself enjoying that. He pushed his fingers harder into you, not quite controlling himself and apologized, but even in the face of choking a bit, you laughed in amusement.

When you stopped, he wiped your chin with his sleeves and kissed you with a goofy smile, still as red as a tomato. Without saying anything, just in the warmth and embrace of the moment, he drove off again and soon you would be asleep and safe beside him.

…

Alex and you arrived at his house, and he parked the car, gently waking you up with kisses on your face and neck. "Hey, sleepyhead, we're here," you opened your eyes slowly, still feeling snuggled.

You felt nervous, knowing that you were about to meet some of his important people. "Are you sure they'll like me?" you asked, feeling anxious.

"Of course they will," Alex said reassuringly, taking your hand in his. "And even if they don't, it doesn't matter. You're here with me, and that's all that matters."

Alex held your hand tightly, reassuring you as he led you to the door. As soon as you stepped inside, he introduced you to his friends. They were a lively group, and they welcomed you warmly. One of his friends teased Alex about being too ugly for you, and you felt a surge of anger rise within you, but Alex just laughed it off, making you feel more at ease.

The afternoon passed quickly and pleasantly. The boys' girlfriends were nice, but they seemed a bit distant from you. They had known each other for a long time, and you were the new addition to the group. But they played cards with you all and were patient as Alex taught you how to play.

"You're doing great," he whispered in your ear. "I knew you'd pick it up quickly." He patted your thigh as if to say good girl and your heart was about to explode.

After a while, you overheard one of the girls say to Alex, "I don't think anyone in the world would have the patience to learn something from you, Alex. You’re made for each other."

You blushed at the compliment and felt a surge of warmth in your chest. Alex smiled at you and squeezed your hand. "See, I told you they'd love you," he said.

You spent the rest of the evening talking and playing games, and you felt happy to be a part of Alex’s world. You leaned your head on Alex's shoulder and closed your eyes, feeling content and loved. You couldn't be happier.

…

You were lying on the bed, scrolling through your phone, when you heard the door creak open. You sat up, setting your phone down on the nightstand, as Alex walked in.

You were feeling exhausted, so you ended up leaving the room early. You had commented on this before leaving, telling Alex you were feeling a bit off, kissing him on the cheek with your hands on his shoulder. He nodded that he would go upstairs too, even though you said he didn't need to, you gave good night everyone and went to the room that would be yours and Alex's.

"Hey," he said, closing the door behind him. "Everything okay?" He looked just as tired, although you had other ideas.

You smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm just tired. Had a long day, y'know." He laughed.

Alex nodded in understanding, making his way over to the bed. He sat down beside you, watching as you shifted onto your side, facing him.

"I brought you some water," he said, holding up a glass.

"Thanks," you said, taking the glass and taking a sip. The silence was comfortable, but there was already a tension as if he could already read you well.

Alex leaned in, kissing you softly. "You look so beautiful in my shirt," he murmured against your lips. He tasted like the previous soda and mint, like good boys.

You giggled, feeling yourself confident at his words, no in a mean way. "Well, it's comfy." You adjusted the white shirt, almost see-through, on your body, making a point of unbuttoning one of the buttons. Alex's attention, of course, was all yours.

Alex smiled, running a hand through your hair. "You're always beautiful, no matter what you wear."

You leaned in, kissing him again, more passionately this time. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

As you broke apart, Alex rested his forehead against yours. "What are you hiding in your mind, puppet?" he said softly.

"You, I want to thank you for earlier, for making me feel good no matter what." you replied, running your fingers through his soft curls, putting his bangs in place.

Alex nodded before your captivating eyes, kissing you again, the passion between you growing. "Just want you to know that you don't have to, like ever." He assured you and you had no doubts about it.

"It's just a treat, don't get so excited kid." You joked, getting out of bed, kneeling on the edge as Alex followed you, already clearly tense, with his gaze.

"I'll try to," he gulped, making you laugh, he had already failed in that regard.

Following them with your eyes, you watched him obey your orders for him to take off his clothes, which he did, making your mouth water at how easy it was to get him excited. He wasn't solid, but he was swollen and vibrant red, you wished you'd slept with him more times than just one.

As expected, he had a flushed face and every now and then his eyes were distant, you couldn't say why, not least because he didn't seem to be insecure in terms of appearance. You wanted to make him feel comfortable, you didn't know if you did that well yet but it also seemed too soon to ask.

"Is it okay if I touch you?" You asked in a soft voice, looking away from his body and towards his eyes. He seemed to enjoy the sight of you on your knees for him, his lit face cheered you up.

"Of course, babe," he sounded husky in anticipation, encouraging you to run your thumb over his length, his lower belly contracted with the touch, and soon you had lubricated his tip with saliva so you could work your fingers there.

He growled hoarsely and before it could get any louder you signaled him to be quiet, it wasn't your plan to make his friends overhear but you didn't mind all that much either.

You didn't want to drag it out, not right then, you just wanted to make him feel genuinely good, he deserved it. You pressed your hand around him, squeezing lightly before moving your hand up and down and making him give you some cute spasms. To avoid discomfort, you kept your eyes on him, who had his mouth slightly open in a bliss of not believing what was happening, and moistened your mouth with saliva, spreading wet kisses over your boy so that he was properly lubricated, it didn't take long and he was fully hard for you.

Seconds had passed and you felt his hips going towards your hand, too bad you had barely started, and it wouldn't be that easy. You stopped your movements, laughing at the sound of disapproval he made, he had his hand over his mouth to prevent noise, it was adorable, even his ears had color. Licking your lips, you allowed yourself to run your tongue over the tip, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the taste of him on you. Worse than him, without being able to think further, you slipped him into your mouth, reaching as far as you could and pressing what you didn't have access to. If no one had heard Alex this time it was because they were deaf. Your legs spread on the floor and you felt your knees hurt, you felt sexy like that, and Alex agreed just as much.

His eyes were closed, you dipped him in saliva and it felt so good. Alex took a deep breath, trying to control himself with every descent your head made, it was as if he was almost unconscious. He dropped his back onto the bed, not having the strength to keep looking at you, which he wanted to do, his hands went to your hair and he pulled you close, lucky for him you let him guide you and do that easy to get for him, it was a short time together but he was used to you being the teasing type. You moaned around him, making the vibrations too good to ignore, and it wasn't until he realized you were touching yourself through it, the thought alone was capable of making him shiver.

Not taking the idea of ​​you providing him the pleasure he wasn't giving you, he pulled your head back, making a loud popping noise as you had your lips disconnected from hin, you were confused, saliva running down your chin and eyes full of tears, you had a lazy smile and you looked beautiful, but he didn't say that, he imagined that you were already tired of hearing him say that every minute.

"Was it that bad?" by the tone of your joke he knew you had a deep hurt.

He looked at you for a few more moments, as in need of it as you were, he was aching. Formulating the words in his mind, he laid you on his lap, picking up a shirt on his side to dry your face. Your eyes were calm on him, watchful and he felt bad that he couldn't tell if that had affected you or not. Still, he took care so that you could feel more comfortable, kissing away the tears and drying your chin and cheeks before a make-out session.

Then, as you squeezed his shoulders and fit perfectly into his lap, making him as hard as possible, he sighed, "You're God, but I want to finish inside you, fill you up like the night before." His voice was calm, you wanted to smack him for making it sound like something romantic to say. "Can we do that?" He was a lot redder than before.

You nodded, "Yeah, sure." This time, it was your throat that was dry.

He pulled down your panties, you kept the shirt on, and leaned into him better, wrapping your arms around his neck. Alex was sweaty, with messy curls, you thought he was stunning, even though he was clumsy, it was his plus charm. You put your forehead on his and with the help of his hand, you relaxed little by little in his lap, feeling him fill you with ease, everything was slow and comfortable, until he was immersed in you, Alex caressed your waist and kissed you now and then, you stopped and let your breathing return to normal a little, it was nice to have him inside you.

"You can move if you want." He asked more with the intention of distracting you after having opened more buttons on your shirt and noticed you flinch reflexively.

He moves your hands gently and kisses the middle between your breasts, working his way down to your stomach and then reaching to your waist. You laughed and that made him feel relieved, he wanted to make you understand that you could feel confident next to him, without worrying about things like that, even if it wasn't so easy.

"I'm getting used to you, Al. You're quite big, y'know." It wasn't a lie but verbalizing it made your cheeks feel hot and Alex turned the color of a bell pepper once again. "I'm sorry."

"No complaints, I feel comfortable having you like this, it's another level of closeness." You agreed with him.

It lasted a good few minutes, then you had Alex moving your hips up and down as you were stuck with nails at his shoulders as riding him good. The movements were rhythmic, and you didn't skimp on calm this time, the bed creaked and the body bumping was just as hot. Alex held onto your rib cage, admiring how your breasts bounced along with you in his lap in the opened shirt, he was mesmerized. Until then, you thought you were doing a good job of keeping the noise down.

You made him lie on his back, leaning on his chest, the view was great, he was a mess, biting his lip hard to keep from making noise. You continued working on it, already feeling your legs weak and body trembling, the feeling was so good that your head was empty just thinking about it, drool was present in the corner of your mouth, it was surreal that you could feel this good with someone. Alex was no different, his muscles twitching in anticipation, you found him noisier, just as you thought you would be like, then you let yourself down on top of him, covering his mouth with your hand and burying your face in his shoulder, biting down on the flesh to avoid any damage.

You clamped your hand over his mouth, actually seeing that that was accurate. You kept riding him until you felt your body nothing but weak and actually fell on Alex's chest, then you felt him filling you up completely, making you hot, you couldn't help but moan louder into his shoulder as he squeezed you closer for comfort. Your muscles were sore, and Alex could barely move, you laughed in satisfaction, looking at Alex who held your wrist while your hand covered his mouth, his eyes were all puppy and his face all babydoll like. Taking it away, the mark of your hand on his face was clear and you liked that. "Good boy," you joked, just before taking in the silence while enjoying Alex still being inside you, keeping his cum deep inside you.

"I need a shower," you pleaded, after a while.

Alex was patting your back, happy to have you lazily humming at his touch. He didn't feel any different, he needed water and soap driving through his body.

You got up slyly, still connected to his hip and sat on him while Alex was still lying down. He ran his finger down your stomach, a shy smile on his face, and then you realized he was feeling him inside you. You looked down, confirming to yourself that you could see his cock deep into you, you bit your lip enjoying it.

Nobody said anything else, he just sat up and slowly put you next to him, on his chest as you felt him slide down your thigh, you liked the feeling. You clung to him, he had his eyes on you. His faces were close and his fingers played with your face and hair affectionately, sometimes he kissed your hand or nose. His eyes sparkled before yours, you felt lucky.

When he mentioned the shower once again, you agreed, you would take one together, you just needed a few more minutes for that. But before, he took the shirt and cleaned you up, affectionately and without making it something weird, he really wanted to see you well. He threw the fabric in a corner and you actually felt better without being sticky, he then went to the bathroom and said he would fix the shower, something usual from that house he was already familiar with, while waiting you pulled a napkin from the nightstand (comical how men thought to leave a napkin inside the nightstand) and described your feelings in moderate words (you wish you could write like Alex, but yet you tried your best), leaving them under his backpack and hoping that one day he would get to read it because you weren't brave enough give it to him in or speak how you felt.

Oh, and the boys didn't shut up about that day ever before.

…

Alex and you stepped into the shower together, the warm water cascading down our bodies. He looked at me with a soft smile, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, taking the bottle of soap and lathering it in his hands.

you blushed and looked down, you were completely exposed and that was weird, you felt a little self-conscious. But Alex wasn't having any of it. He lifted your chin and looked into your eyes, his gaze filled with love and admiration.

"Don't hide from me," he said gently. "I love every inch of you."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling the nerves slowly melt away as he began to soap your back. It felt so intimate, having him wash your body like this, and you knew that you could trust him completely.

As he moved to your hair, you closed your eyes and let out a contented sigh. His fingers were gentle as he massaged the shampoo into your scalp, and you felt like you were floating on a cloud.

When it was my turn to wash his hair, you took your time, loving the way the suds felt against your fingers. Alex leaned his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. You were on tiptoe and decided to say anything.

As the water continued to pour over both of you, you just stood there, holding each other as you were resting your head on his chest, hugging his middle tight, enjoying the closeness. Alex was being his usual goofy self, making silly faces and tickling you under the water.

"Stop lookin’ at me like that," you said, trying to sound stern but failing to keep the smile off my face.

"Like what?" he replied, grinning.

"Like I'm the most precious thing in the world."

"Oh, but you are," he said, his eyes softening. "You're everything to me."

…

You and Alex had been dating for a few months, and you were thrilled when he invited you to one of his gigs. You had heard him play before, but only in the privacy of his apartment, where he would strum his guitar and sing his heart out to you.

But this was different. This was a real concert, with a small but enthusiastic crowd gathered around a makeshift stage in the back of a dimly lit bar. You stood with Alex's friends and their girlfriends, swaying to the music and singing along to every word.

As you watched Alex perform, you were struck by how alive he looked, how in his element he was. His bangs were curled across his forehead, and his white t-shirt was clinging to him, damp with sweat. But he didn't seem to notice or care; he was lost in the music, lost in the moment.

You felt a sense of connection with his friends' girlfriends, like you were all part of something special, something that time had sorted out. You were grateful for their company, for the way they made you feel like you belonged there with them.

When the gig ended, you couldn't help but run up to Alex, jumping into his arms despite his protests about his sweating state. He hugged you tight, and you praised him for his performance, telling him how much you loved seeing him live and how much you admired his songwriting. Being extra and mentioning that just like Leonard Cohen. It wasn't a lie, you would never get tired of comparing the good taste of the two.

He blushed, taking a piece of napkin out of his pocket and handing it to you. It was damp with sweat, but you didn't care. You started to read it in front of him, tears springing to your eyes as you realized it was his response to the love letter you had left under his pillow that night.

You looked up at him, surprised and touched, and he just grinned and shrugged. "I couldn't let you be the only one who poured their heart out in writing," he said, close to your ear before kissing the spot, like it was just for you and yours. "I wrote you a love song, my girl." He pulled you by the waist, wrapping you to him as he kissed away your tears, then his eyes filled too.

As he strummed his guitar and sang the words he had written just for you, you knew in that moment that actions really did speak louder than words. Your Alex was living proof of that. And you felt grateful and lucky to have Alex in your life, to have his music and his love.

[viviandroidcardigan]

Absolutely massive (4k+) outline of a fic I'll never write! Extra clunky bc it used to be a twtr thread.

YS/HJ/SH omegaverse

tw: sa, pregnancy

YS, HJ and SH established omega trouple who are very much childfree. For HJ it's mostly about prioritizing his career, YS is still trying to establish boundaries with his very proper, very conservative family and figure out what he wants outside of what he was constantly pushed into before he snapped and left and SH carries a lot of trauma from his own miserable upbringing (single teenage mother, thrown out by her parents for getting him out of wedlock became abusive and neglectful and eventually died leaving him with very strict and spiteful grandparents that he went no contact with as soon as he could) and he is determined to break the generational trauma by never becoming a parent.

The three of them have been together for almost a year and have a very stable and loving dynamic. 

Until one day YS goes to visit his family to their rural town, who insisted he must be present on some stupid family function despite him being in the middle of a work deadline and in pre-heat. And it went for longer than expected but he was hopeful about catching the last train back to the city and tried crossing the fields to get to the station on time and just like that some random alpha in a rut caught and assaulted him. 

YS didn't catch the train. He woke up in the field at sunrise, barely remembering the night before bc apparently the rut of his rapist triggered his heat to start on early but now it was all gone and he never had it gone so quickly so it only added to his confusion and dread and he just wanted to get home so that's what he did, suddenly very happy that he kept postponing moving in with HJ and SH bc the work commute was too far from their place. YS got home and finally had his

little breakdown in the shower. He didn't know what to do, he didn't even see the attacker enough to identify him and also he knew well enough that omega in heat had very little success in pressing charges. And his family would make such a mess of everything and would tell him it

was his fault for even going out alone at night. He couldn't fathom how to tell his partners either. 

And he did have a work deadline so for the next week or so he buried himself in work very carefully not thinking about anything until he had a horrible idea and sure enough, his test was positive. YS had a larger breakdown bc he was slowly psyching himself up to telling HJ and SH about everything but now he would have to admit to this as well and to his absolute dismay he realized that he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it. He abhorred the notion that his omega instincts will kick in one day as his parents kept telling him but apparently it was exactly the case.

But now he really couldn't tell HJ and SH. They were very clear on their position but also he hated the idea that if he told them everything they might force themselves for his sake and

he couldn't take their choice from them like it was already taken from him.

YS arranged a dinner, as they were messaging him non-stop, the work deadline cope out going only so far to postpone the inevitable and they could immediately tell that something was wrong. 

So YS just straight up asked them about their thoughts on having children and if those changed at all. HJ shrugged bc not really but also it wasn't a hard no for him. Maybe some time, years down the line, when he is better established in the industry, bc if he ever were to have kids, he'd want to be present and not constantly away in the studio. SH shook his head with a serious expression, hasn't changed: no, never. YS sighed and was like, I think it's a goodbye then. I love you but it's something I'm planing to pursue soon so....

They are hurt and confused and ask if his family got into his head while he was visiting but YS is barely holding on as is, he can't really talk anymore. He hoped that there was a way to keep them and the child both but now he knows how foolish that idea was. They keep asking him questions but he is far far away and eventually they stop and they go to their respective homes and at least he didn't move in.

HJ and SH keep messaging him but YS is self-isolating and grieving the relationship. He doesn't think he can manage to stay friends with them, a constant reminder of what he have lost. He can't really tell his family either, sure that they will either force him to abort or worse. He has a recurring nightmare that he resorts to asking for help and his family marries him off to a local alpha who is his rapist but there is no way for him to know for sure and he is forever trapped wondering and not knowing if he is succumbing to insanity or it's a reality that he cannot escape.

There are also worries about the future as his research makes him realize just how dire the situation is for single omega parents in their conservative society. He either has to pay for everything out of pocket which is A LOT or apply for governmental aid but then lose his job bc he has just decent enough income to make him not eligible. But entering the benefits program he will have "single omega parent" on his file forever that is almost sure to guaranty he never gets hired again for any serious job as a "promiscuous omega". Not to mention all the medical things he had no clue about but now has to go through.

For the first month he barely manages to get out of bed at all, spiraling into a depression visible enough that his boss allows him to start working from home. And YS feels so bad about using that kindness to hide the reality of his situation but what other choice he has. Especially when morning sickness kicks in HARD.

YS goes to all his medical exams and works overtime and compartmentalizes so hard he is barely conscious at all as time both crawls and flies.

And then just past the third month his manager request an old project from him, something he always knew will come in handy so he had it saved on a flash drive he cannot find. Until he remembers HJ using it to transfer some work files to home computer and figures out where it is.

YS comes in the middle of the day, when no one should be home and hopes they didn't change the code (they didn't) but just as he locates the drive, sleep-rumpled HJ comes out of the bedroom. They stare at each other until YS blurts out "why are you here?" "Launch party ran late". 

YS figures out that HJ finished the project he was working so hard on when they broke up and something that he looked SO much forward to, as he loved HJ's music but didn't allow himself to listen to it all this time in hopes to get over him quicker. It really didn't work at all.

HJ looks at him guarded and before he asks, YS explains that he needed the flash drive for work and apologizes for coming without a notice. HJ asks why he stopped answering their messages. "I though, we were at least friends". And YS knows he has to leave bc he always knew he was hurting them but he cannot face it rn when he is barely holding on. 

But HJ waves his mumbling attempts at answer and says they have a box of all his stuff that he left behind. It's a pretty big box, he left his whole life behind here. But as he stands up, HJ looks him over and sees the small but noticeable bump he already has. HJ notes bitterly "you moved on fast, huh. Well, congratulations." And YS doesn't know what to say but something must be on his face bc HJ looks away and apologizes, fiddling with his sleeves, says he is hangover from the party.

YS wants to congratulate him on the release as well but he really can't do this anymore so he goes to grab the box but HJ is like woah-woah, what do you think you are doing, it's very heavy! YS just shrugs and says he will get it to the elevator and call a taxi. But HJ frowns at him and says he will get it down but he knows that YS lives on a third floor of a house without an elevator. HJ is like can your... ugh, partner, pick it up for you. And YS is thrown by this conversation enough to say the truth: no. 

HJ frowns harder, what kind of a shitty alpha lets his pregnant omega lift heavy things, even if he is working or whatever, that's not ok, he should be able to come and help. And as YS cannot find a response to that HJ insists that he will get their car and drive him home and get the box to his place. YS tries to argue but there is no point when HJ already decided everything.

They get in the car and now HJ is worried about him enough to get over his bitterness and unexpected jealousy and starts pestering him with questions and YS just gives up and says there is no partner in the picture at all.

That gets HJ even more worried and riled up. Wtf? He got omega pregnant and dipped?? YS is probably heartbroken! He must have been SO in love to break it of with them so abruptly and change his whole stance on kids just for the guy to leave him?? Any hurt HJ was still harboring

gets totally overflown with indignation. Who DARED to leave YS and in that position too? It also dawns on him that YS was probably going no contact bc of all this mess, bc of the embarrassment.So now HJ is determined to mend their friendship. He still cares and SH does too.

They will do all in their power to support YS on this path. YS makes a weak attempt to refuse the offer but really, he is at the end of his rope as well and it doesn't take too much to cave in and accept it. Especially when SH calls him later to assure that he is very much on the

same page with HJ and he can and should lean on them. That's what friends are for. And it brings YS a lot of relief but also opens all the wounds that really didn't heal at all. He misses them and loves them and needs them but now he must be satisfied with their friendship.

HJ and SH come back into his life with vengence. SH immediately proceeds to deep-clean YS' apartment, something that he really couldn't muster the energy to do for... a while. HJ volunteers to drive him to all the doctor appointments even when YS insists that it's entirely fine.

But it does make a difference not even comfortable transportation wise but just having someone there, waiting for him in the car. Hospitals are weird. No one is straight up mean to him but as he did tell the doctors everything he feels like they are treating him like a child.

He has to keep rejecting suggestions that he should bring his parents along. They don't explain him stuff either because when HJ starts pestering him about this or that factoid he read about online, YS is lost on most of them. His first trimester was him moving on autopilot. It turns out that he really needed someone caring around bc YS can finally feel himself unfreezing a bit. But with that comes the onslaught of feelings.

Yes, SH and HJ are there for him but they don't have the time to visit more than couple days a week and also inevitably leave.

They hug him hello but obviously never kiss and one time SH does peck his cheek lulled by familiarity he apologizes for "overstepping". They have new inside jokes he doesn't understand. YS is thrown from elation of their presence to devastation of their loss even more sharp when

they are right there, close enough to touch.

For the first time he starts doubting his decision. Is it really worth it, some random baby against his entire life? He could have had it. Maybe he still can. If it was just out of the picture. He still cannot contemplate abortion but In his darkest moments, silently sobbing into his pillow in his empty apartment, he thinks... maybe if he miscarried. Would it be so bad? They say that unbonded omega, with no alpha pheromones around, with a traumatic conception, he is in a slightly higher risk group. So maybe…

Until one night he wakes up in a puddle of blood and SCREAMS in horror. His whole ride in the ambulance that HJ called him, bc YS was only able to call him, he keeps saying he didn't mean it. He doesn't want the baby gone! He didn't mean it! Please!

HJ and SH still in their pj's run in just as the doctor finishes explaining to him that everything is fine, things like this can happen and he just should go double on his vitamins and come more often for check ups and avoid stress and they will let him go after getting an IV. YS is relieved but still very shaky so he dives into a hug HJ and SH envelop him in, murmuring comforting things and rubbing his back. 

In retrospect he understands the kind of a picture they make and can hardly blame the nurse who comes in with an IV. She is an older alpha that always fusses over him. And YS is too out of it to participate in a conversation when she asks how long they know him and SH says that's it's been almost two years. The nurse looks surprised and then delighted as she says"I know it's not my business and some ppl are weird about relationships between omegas, but I'm so happy to know he has you! You can't imagine how many partners leave the omega who got pregnant from a rap3, as if it's their fault. You are great for staying and you can come with him for the check ups, we are quite progressive here!"

She leaves and YS is completely rigid not able to breathe, with his face still smushed into SH shoulder. Hj makes a raw wounded sound but SH only hugs YS tighter and says "Not now. We will talk about this later."And YS hopes that later means never but he is off the hook for now so he just clings on. 

HJ and SH take YS to their place after that and he is so grateful that they are not asking more questions so he goes along with them and let's them push him into a shower and into the softest pj's and into their bed where he just drifts off right away.

Next morning YS wakes up and even though he is dreading the conversation, it was also the best sleep he had in months, surrounded by their scents, so if there was ever a time he

was even halfway ready, it was then.

As he emerges from the bathroom, there is a tasty breakfast. SH and HJ look terrible like they haven't slept at all and maybe cried all night so even if YS didn't want to talk he felt like he owed them honesty for all the stress he caused them. 

So after breakfast they move to the couch and he tells them that yeah, it's what happened when he went to the countryside. 

"Did someone in your family..." 

"What? Oh no. It was a random alpha. I was in the fields alone at night and he was in a rut. I haven't even seen his face. It was so sudden and then, I was in pre-heat and it... kicked it off all the way, so I barely remember anything at all." 

The fact that assault made his heat start early is something YS can't really think about, it makes him hyperventilate and make all the sounds and vision go dark and muffled so he doesn't dwell on it. 

Just like he can't think how the existence of the baby instantly put him in the protective mode. It's not as much a decision he made as some nature's great imperative working through him, moving the axis of his entire being, sprouting love and care where there was none while he was still very much aware how alien and rapidly occurring those feelings were.

In many ways his own reactions, no doubt fueled by massive hormonal changes, feel even more violating and YS tries his best not to think about that either. He is intent on not thinking or feeling anything at all but that's so much harder when he has to explain things to them.

HJ keeps fidgeting with his sleeves "Why didn't you tell us, you know we would-"

"Stay with me? Yeah. I know you would. That's why I couldn't do that. The choice was taken away from me and I couldn't do that with you too. I wanted to know your honest opinion and you told me."

HJ is frowning but SH nods at him. "It was your call to make and you did and we can respect that. I understand why but I just wish you didn't cut us off so suddenly. You know that we misunderstood the situation badly and went through a heartbreak. You know we still... l- care."

They talk it out some more. And YS has to clamp down on his feelings hard when SH reiterates that they are friends and won't abandon him. Bc tiny part of him was hoping for more but also there is a relief that they don't just fold their lives around him, even though HJ is still

not saying much until he insists that YS stay with them until he is in the clear with doctors. 

And so it's decided and YS starts living with them. HJ takes it upon himself to research everything pregnancy related when he realizes that YS has no clue about his own condition.

As the one with the most flexible schedule he also takes it upon himself to drive him to all the appointments and start going with as well and not correcting everyone assuming they are partners. 

YS doesn't quite know what to do with all of that so he quietly allows himself to be

taken care off. Also HJ starts BUYING stuff. Some special pillows and clothing when he found out YS never got anything like that and vitamins and more and more. As always buying shit is his way to deal with anxiety and after some initial reluctance, YS just lets him.

It's different with SH. It's almost like there are two different ways he treats YS. If they just watch a drama or talk about work or anything like that, it's almost like it was when they just started dating. SH is smiley and teasy and affectionate. Cooking all his favorite meals.

But as soon as anything pregnancy related comes up, he becomes very distantly polite and reserved. YS knows that he is not comfortable with the whole thing and especially how HJ hyperfixated on his research and how many things start getting delivered and filling up their place.

YS tries to do the right thing and move back to his apartment as a month later he is pronounced to be in great health but the truth is he IS terrible at taking care of himself and more so in a current state. He is still spacy and missing big chunks of his day. 

They know it and HJ insists that he stay with them and so he does, slowly turning their living room into a nest, without even thinking. YS is very aware that SH doesn't ask him to stay but he doesn't object either so YS defaults to once again latch on to what they are willing to give him. Guilt and dread always close to the surface in his heart. 

Until it all blows up. HJ orders a fancy high-tech crib and he is struggling to assemble it, refusing help from YS who could clearly see all the ways he was doing it wrong and so giggling in his hands, when SH comes back from work.

SH looks over them and asks what is that. And HJ mumbles something about scrapped metal and YS explains it's a crib. SH is like... a crib... to be put where? HJ pauses and looks up alarmed by his tone and he is like well, it wasn't decided yet. 

And SH's expression darkens bc

Wasn't it? Wasn't it decided, considering he is assembling it right here. Next to the nest. And that's the first time either of them acknowledge that YS has built one on the couch. YS looks at it in panic bc it is right there, with their hoodies and towels and plushies mixed in.

HJ stands up and asks SH what is his problem and SH says nothing but HJ insists and so he starts quietly saying that maybe he would have appreciated being consulted on decisions like this, maybe they could discuss things about changing their apartment or LIFE for that matter but

Clearly HJ is too busy being happy and playing house with YS and apparently his opinion is not really necessary on it. Not like HJ asked his opinion on anything recently. Not like they even had much of a relationship by this point that didn't revolve around YS and his pregnancy.

And YS starts grabbing some of his things, determined to leave asap. HJ is not even saying anything, he is silently crying. SH looks at YS tired and defeated and says to not be stupid and put things down and it's that moment that YS breaks and starts screaming at him. 

That's exactly what he knew would happen. He KNOWS SH hates the idea of parenthood. He knows it brings up his terrible childhood. That's what he was trying to avoid all along! They brought him back and now he ruined their lives just like he knew he would! SH tells him something but he can't hear and can't even fight a hug SH locks him in. 

Can't fight being tugged to the couch into his nest. SH is there still hugging him and then HJ is there too and it's the first time they lay in his nest and YS can't help crying harder at how right it feels.

They don't really fall asleep but it takes a long time until anyone can speak. HJ is the one to start and he apologizes to SH for not seeing how he was hurting, for hiding away in his research and purchasing frenzy so that he could ignore all the fundamental issues they were dancing around. Like the one where he really loves YS and absolutely wants to be a part of his life forever, especially as a partner if he is allowed to. And YS has to clutch his hand and nod. 

SH then apologizes to YS bc he didn't deserve any of this. It's not even that he hates the idea of parenthood. He is just terrified. He is nowhere near to being ready, he won't do a good job, HJ is so much better than him at this already, they would make for a great family and he doesn't see where he would fit in there. YS and HJ both try to assure him and it's not like he doesn't know that many of his fears are just that but it doesn't make them less real. 

But he does want to be with YS, with both of them, baby and all.

They all agree that they need therapy and do they need it! It takes months of active work for them to even scratch the surface, mostly for YS.

They decide to restart their relationship for the third time. Starting with going on dates, doing silly (but also very serious) proper courting, slowly reintroducing intimacy. They manage to get back to having a s3x life for a while until it's too much work for the heavily pregnant YS and while he is afraid of birth he kind of also can't wait for that to happen so they could go back to it. 

And he is not really 100% ok but he is getting a little better every day and he actually starts believing that he has a life full of love ahead of him to get there. 

End.

[the-writer-in-the-winter-forest]

One Less Burden

Summary: Miguel goes to clear his head after a nightmare and to process his current findings of an Earth where another version of him exists.

Features: Miguel O'Hara, Lyla, and Earth-928's Curt Connors.

Warnings: (Very small ones, but I'm being considerate) Depictions of panic attacks, depression, and anxiety.

Whump, hurt/comfort, angst fic!

Authors Note: From the winner of my Miguel SFW poll, the people asked for angst, and angst is what you shall get!!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

It was just a dream.

Of course, it was a dream, none of it made any sense. The images, the scenarios, none of it made sense, none of it could have been possible. That didn't make the fear of it any less real though.

Miguel's trembling hands run along the back of his neck where his skin is damp and hot. His ears are ringing like an early warning system. This must be what a spider sense feels like, is it?  Research and first-hand accounts of others suggest differently. If this is how it feels, Miguel already hates it. Pushing his palms against his ears, he breaths deeply and hard to help drown out the ringing.

Miguel pulls the bed sheets off him, feeling suffocated and cold due to their dampness. Every inch of him wanted to go running and dive into a freezing lake, the shock alone would be enough to shift back his scenes to reality. 

It ends up being the soft voice of a certain AI that ends up doing so instead. “Miguel?” 

He should have known that it wasn't going to take Lyla long to show up. Her small form appears on Miguel's left bedside table looking concerned. “Your heart rate and blood pressure are elevated.” She scrolls through the display in front of her showcasing Miguel's vitals. 

“Lyla,” He sighs, sounding more tired than annoyed. “What did we discuss about monitoring my vitals?” It's a rhetorical question, of course, more so a reminder to Lyla not to monitor him while he sleeps, especially while he sleeps, it’s creepy. 

“Should I talk to Doctor Connors about getting you back on some sleep aids?”

Pills, meds, there's always one or the other to treat something of his. Whether it be Rapture, anxiety, depression, or his restless nights. It feels like there’s so much of Miguel that can’t be lessened without the help of a special little pill. 

Lyla's expression softened when she sees how worn down Miguel looks. But his weariness is nothing new and Lyla's sympathy hasn't lessened. Her partner is in pain, and there are sadly more limitations to her than anyone else. What is the use of being as advanced as she is if she couldn't help in the ways she wants? She watches his hands trace over the various scars on his upper body, they seem to be the only tangible thing keeping him in this moment. He doesn’t want to go back to sleep, yet the exhaustion still lingers heavily around him.

“Yeah…that sound like a good idea.” Miguel presses his forehead against his knuckles forcing himself to try to feel drowsy. Let his exhaustion take him. “Get me in for a session with Doctor Keaton too if you can.”

“You got it, Boss.” Lyla watches Miguel carefully when he retrieves an autoinjector from his side table drawer. Even she winces when the needle pierces into Miguel's shoulder. But compared to everything else, it's the only pain that lasts a few seconds. “Maybe you should take the day off.” It’s a statement, not phrased as a question. She doesn't want her tone to sound passive. She had been hesitant to even make the suggestion. Even without having an intellect such as her or even if she hadn't known Miguel very well, she would have known the answer. But even with that, for Miguel's sake, she’ll continue to hope that there will be more days than not that he’ll allow himself some moments of peace. His wide eyes follow him out to the terrace of his bedroom to look at the city lights below him.

“Tell Jess and Curt to look after things for a bit. I’m going out.” His hands grip the railing tightly, he’s careful not to dent it.

Lyla looks in disbelief at this remark. Guess it's never too late to rely on others. “Going out wh-” Before the AI can ask for any further information, which really would have been appropriate considering Miguel just leaped from the terrace, diving down into the city below. Without Lylas' deadpanned expression, anyone else would have considered this cause for worry. He's so dramatic. "He’s really gotta stop doing that.” She grumbles before evaporating from the room. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The rushing chill of the night along with the soft rain against his naked body, mixed with the fiery adrenaline pumping through his system the further and further he falls, it’s actually peaceful to him. When he’s ready his suit encases him.

It’s rainy nights like these that make Miguel think back to when he and his brother Gabe were kids. They’d make paper boats and race them along the stream near their house. When the rain came, the stream would pick up, which made the conditions for boat racing perfect. 

Not wanting to be bothered for the rest of the evening, Miguel shuts off the receiver in his suit that holds, manifests, and can summon Lyla. Of course, she doesn't exist solely in his suit. She’s a free-range AI, as Miguel liked to refer to her, though Lyla grimaced at the idea of being compared to a farm animal. “Those chickens aren't solving interdimensional travel equations with the eggs they lay, Boss.” He remembers her telling him.

He needs time to himself without Lyla monitoring him. He hasn't been himself lately. Everything inside of him feels gnarled, raw, and exposed like an open wound. No. He’s had opened wounds before, and they don't hurt like this. The misery hurts worse than any physical injury he’s received over the years. Those can be bandaged, stitched, and iced, only simple fixes like ones that can be solved with a pill. 

Never before had he been so happy to be beating down muggers and robbers. This distraction is very much needed. It’s not a healthy way of dealing with his anger. He’s better than this, letting his frustrations get to him, and yet here he is, still angry.

He swings and leaps past the tall buildings, past the busy motorized streets, passing like a blur, almost unnoticeable. It's only when he finds a good spot to perch and rest for a moment that he can stop and think, be truly alone, and just think. Think about what’s been on his mind for the past seven months. 

It was childish to call it unfair. But it’s how he feels. It’s wrong and unfair. He feels that fact burning at his core. But how it plays out..it’s wrong, too.

He had stumbled across Earth-829 purely by accident, purely by chance. He almost didn't believe it. All looked too perfect to be true. An Earth where he wasn't alone, he has a wife, a daughter, people who love him…or rather, someone like him. Seeing it all the way it was made him angry, envious even. And the most cruel part of it all is that he knows it doesn't end well. Not too long from now, the alternate version of him will meet a tragic and sudden end. His family would be distraught, his wife, and his daughter in despair. Daughter, he has a daughter. Miguel shakes his head. She isn't yours, you idiot.

He hasn't told anyone about what he found, not Lyla, not Jess, not Curt, or his wife Carmen. No one. The reason for that is that he can’t imagine what any of them would say if Miguel were even to suggest it

There's no way he couldn't, shouldn't! This idea of his, this insane idea, shouldn't be keeping him awake at night. No part of him should be entertaining it. Leave it alone, leave it be, let it play out the way it’s supposed to, he’d tell himself all this over and over again, because it may have been what anyone else would have told him. Why can’t he just be content with the way things are now? The overwhelming nature of it all was swarming him.

Miguel freezes at the edge of his perch, his nerves and senses overloading. The leap to the next building over should have been nothing that would make him stop this cold. And yet the distance made everything spin. Memories of his childhood once again come flooding back to him. His brother had taken him up onto the roof of their house when he was no older than eight, it terrified him so badly, he wouldn't stop screaming until his parents finally managed to get him down. It's been years since he got over his fear of heights. Why has it suddenly made a reappearance after all this time? He hadn't even noticed that the rain had stopped, nothing was registering, no lights, sounds, nothing. His chest tightens, and his breathing becomes slow and shallow. His systems are overloading. 

“Lyla...” The words barely escape Miguel's lips before he collapses clutching his chest. “...help..”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

His hearing is the first thing to come back to him.

The loud ringing is replaced by soft murmurs, voices that he couldn't recognize as they phased in and out.

The soft, low light on his bedside table made him feel safe. The warmth of his bed instead of the wet hard ground where he had…

Miguel springs forward in bed, having a brief recollection of Deja Vu from only a few hours ago. He immediately tenses, grabbing his shoulder. From the look of it, the skin is heavily bruised. Surprisingly, taken off her guard by Miguel's sudden return to consciousness, Lyla waves her game away, dissolves herself, and then reappears. 

“Hey, easy, Boss.” She speaks soothingly. “Everything's ok, just breath.” Miguel listens to Lyla, breathing slowly and steadily. He’s safe. He’s alright. “I pinpointed your location when you contacted me. It was so strange that I wasn't able to track you once you left the building.” Lylas is never shy about showcasing her classic sarcasm. Especially when it comes to Miguel. "From what I could gather, you blacked out due to over exertion. I dispatched some of the others. Once they found you, they brought you back here.” She pauses, allowing Miguel to collect his thoughts while also regretting her snarky comment from just a few moments ago. That regret is what makes her not immediately ask Miguel why he had been found unconscious on a rooftop in the rain and in the middle of the night. He’s still collecting himself. She doesn't want to push him.

“Thank you.” Miguel breathes laying back down, looking at his AI assistant with great appreciation.

“I’m always here, Boss.” She reassures him. “Plus, you pulled me out of a 1v1 pong match with myself.”

Miguel stares at Lyla with pure confusion. “Pong?”

Lyla's hologram flickers when she shrugs. “Eh, I wanted to see what the hype was about. back in the 70's”

“And what did you find out?” Miguel asks, sounding genuinely curious as to what conclusion the AI could have come to. 

“People in the 70’s were wierd.”

“You always were more of a Tetris girl anyway.”

Lyla gives a look that can’t argue with that fact. Her eyes behind her heart-shaped glasses turn worried again. She phrases her words carefully so as to not freak Miguel out any more than he just had been. “Are you ok?”

The way that she asks that question tells Miguel that it has more than one meaning. And he knows which one Lyla is asking, it’s the one that he can’t tell her the truth about, the one where he has a solution, but he just can’t seem to trust anyone with it. He needs to tell someone, tell them what he’s found and what that could mean for him. Lyla can see how hard he is thinking about her simple question. It is simple, right? She thinks back to her limitations, here's another shining example of her inability to help, her inability to comprehend something that is so simple for an AI, but almost impossible for a human. 

“Can you message Curt? Tell him I need to talk to him?”

It didn't take long for Curt to arrive. Miguel allowed him access to his room when he heard his knock at the door. He’s much shorter than Miguel, with a slim build and dark hair. Under his lab coat, he was dressed sharply and professionally. If Miguel had known Lyla longer than he had known Curt Connors, maybe she would have been the one that he would have told this all to. But Curt has been there since Miguel's accident at Alchemax. Helped him by creating a knock-off brand of Rapture that will, over time, diminish his need for the drug. He headed the science and research division of the Spider Society. It took many great minds to keep this place running smoothly. All the scientists, doctors, and engineers had once worked with Miguel and Curt at Alchemax but had broken off when discovering more of the company's darker secrets. They were folks who had been misguided, just looking to make amends.

Curt knew a bit about past mistakes himself. He takes a moment to look Miguel up from head to toe before telling him, “I’m glad you’re ok.”

Miguel gives a nod propping himself up on his pillows. “What did Carmen say?” 

Doctor Connors sighs, pulling up a chair to sit at his friend's bedside. “I may still be learning my wife’s native language, but I can recognize the curse words in en español. Which I don't think is that impressive. Then again, she knows many of the curse words in Mandarin, so we’re both equally terrible, I guess, to each other's cultures.” He shrugs none nonchalantly, laughing at the scenario. “Lyla told me that you’re not sleeping well again.”

Miguel shakes his head, not wanting to focus on that specific issue at the moment. “That’s not why I asked you to come up here.”

“If it was to confess your deep romantic feelings for me I’m sorry to say that you’re too late, I’ve been off the market for the past year.” Miguel raises his eyebrow towards the doctor, indicating his want for him to understand that this conversation isn't the time for jokes. Curt makes quick work to rearrange himself. “Just kidding." He gestures his hand. "Proceed.”

Miguel takes another deep breath, thinking about how to phrase what he’s about to tell his friend. He has to tell someone, he’s been struggling with this for months, and keeping it to himself was adding to this weight inside of him more and more with each passing day. Maybe it was time to lift some of the burdens he was giving himself. 

Miguel looks at Curt with every bit of seriousness he can muster trusting himself and trusting his friend. All cards are on the table.

“I found something... and I don't know what to do with it”