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obeythebutler · 2 years

Note

anyways before i forget.

coward!MC lesson 16 reactions,,, bro the angst potential there is so real idk even where to start.

i legit imagine,,, you're in such a state of abject terror and shock, like, you literally died, not a game, no joking, it HAPPENED, and no one saved you, belphie didn't stop, there was absolutely nothing you could do

first lucifer rejecting you, and then this. it'd be a massive setback to any kind of bravery you'd been able to muster because seriously, post lesson 16, literally fuck that. you could DIE, this is REAL, and you were stupid for ever forgetting that.

hhh just. satan, lucifer, mammon,, whichever other boys (i love me some dia so maybe him and barb, who probably deserves to feel at least a little responsible), knowing how much you suffer. trying to help.

HNNNNNG YOU WROTE MC'S TERROR SO FUCKING GOOD AND NOW THE ANGST POWER LIVES IN MY BRAIIIIN

strongly worded and more detailed letters to follow, love, elsey,

Coward! MC here

Hellfire tea sits cold in your lap.

The flames in the fireplace burn with vigour, bright and burning as expected of something like Hell. Mammon once threw a broken chair in there, to hide it from the eldest, and it reduced to ashes in front of your eyes within seconds.

The fire devour anything it gets.

Like that black tapir roasted to perfection by Satan. Babylon curry stirred by Asmodeus, with two pink hairclips that he put in place before beginning with the cooking and as he chirped "so that my hair won't be affected by the heat !," and the cheerful chatter in the air. Plans made and some promptly turned away (exploring all Devildom restaurants in a day might just lead to bankruptcy) and smiles which were not seen before.

And Quetzalcoatl brain soup stirred by a tall demon.

For his twin, of course.

Bony fingers that gripped the ladle and lips curling into a smile at the taste. Those same fingers around your throat. Tightening, not letting you breathe even when you begged. Black spots in your vision and a throbbing pain in your chest after having been thrown down the stairs. You must have broken a bone or two in there, but you're not sure.

You're not even sure why you are alive.

Belphegor laughs, and you freeze in your seat, fork with spaghetti twisted around it falling on the table with a plop!

You blame it on clumsy hands. And yet, your heartbeat can be heard by inhumane ears.

You stare at it with detachment, perhaps wondering if the piece of food will jump to life.

"Here," Belphegor says, passing you a plate of sushi. "I thought you would like it, since its from the human world."

You stare but smile, and when his fingers brush against yours you tremble.

"I missed out on a lot, didn't I?" He mentions with gaze half-lidded. "I want to catch up on everything."

You chew on rice and fish but the taste doesn't matter at the moment. The room is gigantic and you already dwarf in comparison. Eyes gaze at you in concern, but you pay no heed.

Did your death even get a mourning?

When Belphegor says your name, you nod and say yes.

Even when you beg yourself to say no and get out, out of the room where he is sitting and eating and you're dining with him and his brothers and you're dining with rejection and death in front of you and oh god you can't say no—

Your fingers dig into your thigh.

"MC, are you alright?" Asmodeus whispers, unable to avoid the way in which your hands tremble when Belphegor is near. You don't hear him, continuing to stare at the half-eaten sushi on your plate. Your heart pounds in your chest, the familiar tendrils of fear clinging to you as the seventhborn draws nearer.

"MC—"

He is barely able to place a hand on your shoulder before you jolt, throwing away your cutlery with a clang. The chair makes a noise that makes everyone else wince, following which you're gone and out of the dining room.

You're gone in a flash, footsteps fading with the door of your room slamming shut.

This is your chance.

Go back in time. Find out what helped Belphegor escape. Come back.

Sounds like a pretty neat plan.

"Thank you, MC." When Lucifer expresses his gratitude for your help, you smile in understanding.

Even after what has happened, you will show everyone that you can be better. That you're not the coward you used to be. After having faced rejection and cried outside the firstborn's door, writing on paper that tore due to how much you erased your work and after Lucifer's demon form towering over you. Teeth bared in a display of aggression, and the sickening thud that was made when Beel collided with the furniture.

And after all that has happened, things are finally looking up for you. You've fallen down many times, but you're learning to brush yourself and get up, persevere, and not shrink when faced with the slightest threat.

This is your chance, you affirm, clenching your fist. You can finally prove that you're worthy of respect, a value that you want to be admired for.

"Remember, you must not tell anyone that you are from the future, as well as me. That might end up warping history. Return after finding out the reason for Belphegor's escape."

The butler instructs, finger under his chin. You nod, flashing the demon a smile to let him know that you are prepared. Barbatos's warning echoes clear in your head as you approach the door, and open it, revealing a purple mist.

When you look back at the demon, his expression reveals nothing. Bidding him bye, you step forward.

You can't wait to return.

As soon as the haze clears, you find yourself in the hallway of the House of Lamentation. You pace around, trying to ascertain as to during which event you are here.

The sound of bickering catches your ears, and you step forward into Mammon's room.

"When you're silencing yourself, ensure to quieten that stomach too!"

"Hey! Don't ask me to do the impossible!"

"Lucifer and MC should have opened up to each other by now."

Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in Asmo's words. So the whole game with the firstborn was planned...

A smile forms on your face at the realisation, but it drops as soon as you remember that they don't know what will happen. Screaming and shouting. Bristled wings and snarls. Threats on your life. Careful to not make noise, you step forward to listen better.

And the sound of the empty can crushing beneath your feet is enough to attract attention.

Mammon's head whips around. "I didn't know you were in here the whole time!" He says in disbelief, and the others look on. You gulp, having the urge to get out of the room without explaining yourself, but you stop.

"Yeah, I followed Satan around.." You mutter, embarrassed, and the fourthborn frowns.

"See! I told you to be careful" Asmo complains, pointing a finger accusingly at his brother. "Now look what you've done."

The idea to make Lucifer and you talk again has not worked out, and the demon pouts.

Levi furrows his brows."You should see him." He says, and you nod, glad to get out and solve the mission. Back in the hallway, you hear faint voices, and on inspecting closely you discover that they're coming from the top of the stairs.

Where Belphegor is held prisoner.

"The old Lucifer wasn't like this! The old Lucifer didn't care what others thought of him!"

You don't hear a retort.

Perhaps this was one of the many reasons why you fell in love with Lucifer. Brave and confident of himself, willing to sacrifice himself for those who loves.

Something you wouldn't have been able to muster the courage for.

But you're growing. You're making progress, as small that might be. You no longer tolerate lower-level demons stepping up and stealing your lunch or bothering you in class. Grades are improving, and so are your relations in the house.

You don't want it all to shatter.

You don't want to pick yourself up again like that night.

Descending footsteps alert you, and so you hide.

And Belphegor's pleading voice for help is something you are unable to resist.

And so you step forward and open the door.

And so Belphegor embraces you.

And then he transforms.

"What—What the hell are you doing?!" You stammer, fear creeping in your veins at the sudden reveal of his demon form. "Belphegor, what exactly are you planning?"

When his hand curl around your neck, you scream.

He pushes you against the wall of the attic, your head colliding with the stone, further adding to your agony. The demon laughs, and you wonder if this is his genuine smile, finally revealed in a moment of cruelty.

"Don't blame me for tricking you, blame yourself for falling for it," He snarls, teeth too sharp and eyes too bright in the dim light. You struggle to breathe, your clawing and kicking of no use.

"Please," You beg, barely able to rasp out words when he squeezes your neck so tightly you fear he might just wrung it and kill you. "I don't want to—I—please d-don't—"

His smile is cruel.

"It's rather unpleasant, in't it? Being choked like this." Belphegor laughs, the sound throaty and cruel, and you feel your heart breaking further at the betrayal. You thought you were friends. You trusted him. You freed him.

All that courage you had gathered, all gone to waste. Your mission—failed. What you feared during your time in the Devildom is happening, and you can't even do anything to stop it.

You are about to die.

Your vision blurs with tears, and you struggle to breathe in his grasp.

Not this time. Not this. Anything but this. Please don't kill me.

His laugh still rings in your ears as your eyes close.

"Not my breakfast!"

Leviathan protests, unable to do anything but watch as Beel downs the rest of his food, miffed at his ignorance. He slams his hand on the table, and Lucifer frowns.

"Beel and Levi—"

The delicate normalcy in the room has been broken, and now it lies shattered like a thousand glass pieces that will be hard to pick up and will pierce skin.

If not of demons, than of a human.

The demon straightens his posture, realising that his presence has stopped the chatter that he had anticipated. Belphegor gazes around the room, and when he turns to look his brothers in the eye they don't meet his gaze.

"Come on," He drawls, pulling back the chair to sit down, the sound making everyone wince. "Continue."

He grabs his portion of bread and soup, but no one resumes their actions.

Indifferent, the demon takes a bite of the bread.

"So...are you going along with Belphie to school?" Asmo questions, hand resting under his chin.

Besides him, Leviathan announces that he will grab something to eat at the cafeteria, and the fading footsteps create a sound no one wants to hear.

Belphegor takes a sip of the soup. "MC doesn't have to go along if they don't want to." His expression reveals nothing; and your shoulders sag with relief.

You don't go with Belphegor to school that day.

But that doesn't spare you from his presence next to yours in the class.

Neither does the fact that you're sitting next to the demon that killed you once.

Has he brushed aside what happened so easily? And have the others done the same? You ask yourself as the professor demonstrates how to manifest magic circles. And rejection still sits bitter within you.

After that class is over, you have to go shopping for Diavolo's birthday. You're not sure if you'll be able to do that with Belphegor around.

Every step you take will have to be done with caution. Because you, foolish human, had forgotten that you were defenseless, with or without the pacts.

They knew what would happen when you would step into the portal.

Neither did you find someone who loved you.

Neither was your love returned.

The pain of rejection dulls in comparison to death, and even then you find yourself in shambles.

You were, after all, sent to your demise instead. You laugh at the fact, a low chuckle that breaks off into a crack at the end, and it doesn't help that Mammon winces noticing your expression of happiness is a bitter one. Nor is it true.

After running into the residents of Purgatory hall, you find that nothing escapes Simeon's gaze.

When he advices you to serve as a bridge for the brothers, you are tempted to cackle.

The angel quietens when he sees the dark circles under your eyes, and the way your eyes dart around the stairs, waiting for someone to strike. Instead Simeon breathes out, murmuring that you are welcome to come to Purgatory Hall whenever you wish. The angel doesn't know what took place, but he knows you're in turmoil.

"If you want someone to talk to, I'm right here." He departs with those words.

He leads Luke back home.

He doesn't know what to say.

And your vision blurs as they walk away.

Nothing can be said of this moment, nothing is left to say. Its silence silences.

Game night is not a peace-building activity.

Rather, it leads to chaos.

"Wrong decision Mammon! You could have had Ruri work as an idol and instead you've sent her to the casino!"

"She'll make more money and then you'll get more! Stop shoutin at me!"

"This was my videogame—"

The door slams open.

And then it begins.

"So you're telling me that Beel is feelin guilty because he didn't know you were being held..prisoner?"

"What else," Belphegor rolls his eyes, and when his gaze meets yours his expression is unreadable. He settles away from you, swiping a pillow from Levi's lap who gazes around the room, and placing it on his own. Although he's not touching you, his presence is enough to inspire fear. Your nerves stay on edge, body stiffening as you attempt to stay still and not shrivel besides him.

You want to go back to your room.

"Should we go and see Beel?" Mammon mutters in your ear, not wanting to let Belphie hear, but the action has you nearly jolting in your place.

Your eyes are downcast. "S-Sure," You whisper, voice low. "We should see him." You play with your thumb, refusing to meet either brother's gaze. The audio from the game stops playing, and the silence that follows starts to envelope the room in a heavy blanket.

The secondborn frowns.

"Ya alright?" He questions, eyes travelling over your form, inspecting for any injuries you might have been trying to hide or any signs of illness, but when he sees the way your hands tremble and breath runs ragged Mammon bends down.

"Let's go to your room MC, how about that?"

You nod, and let him lead the way.

When the door closes again, it is Levi's turn to gape at Belphegor.

"They're scared of you," He blurts out, unable to bear the silence. "MC doesn't want to be near you."

Belphegor stares at the tank in resignation.

Back in your room, Mammon dims the lights with a simple incantation that he heard Lucifer recite countless times. "Thanks," You say, voice muffled under the blanket. The demon smiles, his eyes looking unusually bright in the dark, but you brush it aside as a demon quirk.

"Anything for ya."

He turns to leave, ready to walk out the door and close it, then walk straight towards the end of the hallway where—

"Mammon?"

His name comes out in a whisper, and he stills.

"Could you stay?"

A smile. "Of course."

"Are you alright?"

Lucifer questions, and you tremble.

"I'm fine," You mumble, unable to meet his gaze. You don't have the courage to even look the demon in the eye, and so you stare at your notebook. "Just doing some assignments," You blurt, picking up a pencil in hopes of making yourself look busy. "We've got a test tomorrow in Hexes and Curses."

The demon eyes you, lips turned downwards and brows furrowed.

The man can see you trembling. The way your eyes flicker nervously over lines of text, or the way you keep fidgeting with the pencil.

You're scared.

And who's fault is it?

Who is responsible for your death?

Who is responsible for locking Belphegor?

Who is responsible for the fall from the Celestial Realm?

Who is responsible for destroying any courage you had gathered?

All these questions are screamed at him, and the war comes to mind. When others had believed in him, and he failed them.

He failed you.

Lucifer knows that it is him, and no other being. All that had happened to you are the consequences of his own actions. That after having finally gathered yourself from the pain of rejection, the pain of dying had finally torn down any remnants of your happiness and peace here.

And...would you even trust him?

The firstborn asks himself this question as he ogles your form; desperately trying to find a way for you or him to leave. Because he can't be trusted, not anymore.

And he can't even believe you when you say that you're fine.

"You should rest," He says, voice raspy. "The past few days have been....."

The demon winces, stopping himself before he goes and says something that will tear the manufactured normalcy you've been desperately trying to present.

You nod in return, muttering out a 'good night,' before gathering your notebook and scurrying out from the room. You can feel eyes burning holes in the back of your head; you can feel Lucifer staring at you, but you don't want to look back.

And as your footsteps retreat, Lucifer replaces the vacant spot you had left, on the chair.

He inspects the wood, eyes gazing over the material before he rests his head on it—too exhausted to do anything else. Too tired to try right now.

He's worsened your agony.

Gloves fingers pick up the pencil lying abandoned, and the firstborn stares at it. Your departure sets something in his chest throbbing with pain, and he knows it is love that he cannot speak about.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

He loves you. But it is an affection he does not have the courage to speak about, for his actions say something else.

Does he even deserve you?

Lucifer's throat tightens, and he refuses to acknowledge it.

His mind drifts back to the time when his brothers were creating a fuss about that Devilgram photo with you and Satan. How you both looked so happy and it was someone else who'd made you smile. How hard you had cried that night when he had rejected you and how scared you were after. How you avoided him after and how you must have cried and how scared you must have been when Belphegor killed you—

A garbled cry spills from his throat.

The sound Lucifer makes is something he's mortified to hear from himself. The man's vision blurs and all he can feel is the agony in his chest. His face is wet. And upon realising that the library isn't soundproof he casts an enchantment, through a tone that cracks in the end.

No one will be able to hear his cries now.

Your spirits have been crushed, and the MC he once knew is gone, replaced by one that had their spirits defeated.

Lucifer is witness to that. From watching you run away, leaving behind Beel and Luke in the underground tomb to standing in front of Diavolo, going back in time....and being rejected and yet bouncing back...there's no greater testimony than it.

He calls you to his room the night before you're supposed to leave for the human world.

You walk into the room to see Lucifer by the fireplace. The flames frame his features in a way which takes away your breath. It is in this moment that you're reminded that you are in a room with the Avatar of Pride and fallen angel, Lucifer himself.

You suppose there's no better time to be wary than now.

In hindsight, you should have never trusted them from the start. For who knew smiles and laughter would get you killed? So when the demon asks for you, it takes fifteen minutes itself to muster up courage to move.

And even more to stand in front of him.

"Come, sit down," He murmurs, gesturing to an empty couch across him. "Please make yourself comfortable."

The man attempts to make yourself feel relaxed in his presence, but you can't help the racing of your heart when you sit down on the plush couch, darting your gaze around the room, looking everywhere but in his eyes. When you finally do, look in his direction, you find that Lucifer is not scrutinizing you.

Rather, he's focused on the fire.

"I chose you as the exchange student for this programe." Lucifer declares, voice somber.

You fidget in your seat, not knowing what to make of his words. When he looks at you, your guts tell you to flee, yet you remain like a deer frozen in headlights.

"There were times when I regretted my choice."

Your heart sinks. You know Lucifer doesn't have the best opinion of you, you are pretty sure you are nothing more than a coward in his eyes, just a human to take care of for a year. A responsibility.

"But I made the right choice in choosing you." Lucifer smiles, and it is an expression full of warmth, unlike anything you've seen before.

"H-How?" You question, utterly bewildered and confused. "I thought you—that you—"

"That you had no value in my eyes." The man cuts you off, and you flinch. "That I had no respect for you." Your hands tremble, not knowing where this conversation is leading to. The door is right in front of you, maybe if you just excused yourself—

Yet another part wants to stay. Remain and listen to the demon. Lucifer's voice is soft. "I was wrong about you," He admits, smiling softly. "For you are someone to be respected."

"Ever since the day I saw you in the Devildom, I assumed that you would be another hassle, another responsibility to take care of. And observing you during your first week here, didn't exactly put a decent impression of you in my mind."

You gape at the man, waiting for him to continue.

"You ran away from me in the underground tomb, and yet you went up the stairs that I stated were forbidden. I have seen you struggling with coursework, thrust into a new environment which you did not consent to have been put into..." He places a hand under his chin. "In hindsight, I should have been more understanding of your situation. I was the one to bring you here and you even got killed because of my mistake.."

"Don't say that."

He sighs, his shoulders sagging, and you've never seen Lucifer look more defeated.

"I have seen you grow. I assumed you were weak, a coward, and yet you grew and overcame your fears. You have helped me and my family immensely, and all I did was get in your way." He says, and your heart aches. "I've been cruel."

A sob chokes your throat.

"I am proud of you for what you have done and achieved, and I can never make enough reparations for what you had to suffer. But I swear I will prevent anything like this from occurring again." He gets up, suddenly, startling you. "And I offer you my pact as promise and as gratitude."

And as you watch, the Morningstar gets on his knees in front of you.

"Control over me as your demon, and you my Master," He mumbles. "Will you allow me the honour of making a pact with you?"

When Lucifer gazes at you with nothing but sincerity in his eyes, you have to blink back tears.

"Y-Yes."

The firstborn bows his head. "You will never have to fear me again." He swears. "And I will give you a reason to believe." And with that, you feel infernal magic flowing through your veins. A burst of energy so intense that it raises your heartbeat and makes you close your eyes momentarily.

When you open them again, you feel powerful.

For you have command over the Morningstar himself.

"Thank you," You whisper, placing your hand atop his own.

Satan has seen the way you carry yourselves now at RAD, an invisible presence amongst the crowd of chattering demons. Withdrawn and downcast. Despite the pacts, you were murdered.

He's seen you fall and rise, unwavering determination as you gathered courage and spoke up for yourself. Improved yourself and went against Diavolo, the literal Prince who few dared to oppose. You went back in time for all of them, and what did that get you?

Death.

But now you can barely muster any courage to even look him in the eye. Lucifer and Belphegor have made their pacts with you too in penance and forgiveness, but that is not enough to help the trauma inflicted upon you.

Satan doesn't know what to say now, seeing your downcast gaze and the way you tremble when Belphegor is near. He's seen you rise and fall, and seeing you destroyed makes Satan realise that he and his brother are all responsible for what happened to you. He loves you too; for seeing you strive to improve and overcome the fear that is justifiably humane, and observing you grow reminds Satan of himself.

But you've fallen down and been killed.

Therapy, he concludes one week before you're supposed to leave. It is perhaps the best option for you.

And all that on Diavolo's dime.

Lucifer and Satan had worked it out all together, and the Prince had readily agreed. He knew what would happen, and yet he allowed it.

One life in exchange for peace and order.

It sounds simple, but when you realise the weight it carries you can't bring yourself to do it. The man is a Prince, and with that title comes responsibilities and power more than anyone could fathom.

But did it give him the right to put you in a completely different realm and place an unwanted burden on your shoulders?

He muses, late at night when the moon is at its brightest. When he can't sleep, and the dark circles in the morning will surely concern Barbatos who won't hold back on a lecture.

But some questions won't stop bothering him.

Do you hate him?

Would you have hated him?

For what he's done to you?

Was he making the right choices?

Was he trying enough?

But he's still learning, still observing, still growing. He never lies.

And Diavolo doesn't ever want such a circumstance to occur. When he felt infernal magic radiating from you, so intense and of a magnitude that only the firstborn could muster, the Prince knew what had happened.

Pacts with the seven avatars.

Command over them.

Could....would you have forged one with him, if possible? Would you want to? He wants to ask, and yet Diavolo knows he can't make one even if you were willing.

Not yet.

But he'll work towards ensuring a world where he can.

3K notes · View notes

writefightandflightclub · 2 years

Text

A lasting impression (Steven Grant x fem!reader)

Summary: Steven falls asleep on you. No… I mean literally on you.

Reader: fem! Vagina-owner. She/her pronouns. Gendered language e.g. girl, pretty.

Author’s note: I couldn’t resist a second bash at Steven. I adore him 🥺 Written largely before Ep2, so it’s Ep1-centric.

Genre: one-shot, fluff, pining, meet cute, silliness, but also angst I’M SORRY. Definite angst. (If you don’t want the angst and think ignorance is bliss, stop reading at the heading “the next day” for a far fluffier experience. Either version should feel complete.)

Rating: Mature for mentions of sex. NO SMUT.

Warnings: EPISODE 1 SPOILERS. Mentions of: memory lapses / time-skipping / sleep disorders - inc. insomnia, night terrors (reader). Loneliness. Sex references (nothing explicit). Swearing. Rejection themes. Not proofed very well.

“Oh god no,” you hiss, upon seeing the limp torso of the stranger in the row opposite you begin to cant dangerously towards the aisle. The priorly sleepy (now sleeping) stranger has been nodding off intermittently for the whole bus journey so far, causing his pretty curls to bounce and flop over his forehead in a way which has kept drawing your eye.

If you don’t intervene soon, however, the crumpled heap of him on the floor will be drawing your eye, as the bus zooms dangerously fast around a loose corner. And so, you urgently shuffle your bum to the aisle-edge of your seat, stretching your arm out across the space to nudge the man into a more upright position. Your palm contacts his arm gently, but with enough force to redirect his centre of balance; just right.

It’s often amusing to watch someone fall asleep on public transport, you think. The gradual head loll, followed by the sudden jerking awake? The embarrassed look around - sometimes an abrupt, rough snore snatching them awake, the kerfuffle resulting in covertly passed laughter - little bundles of joy spread between the other passengers with a stifled laugh behind a palm here, and mirth-sparkled eye contact there? Cracking entertainment, that. At least, it is when you’re out of data for the month and can’t watch videos of cats taking baths to amuse you on the route home. However, with this guy… it’s simply not funny. The sheer aura of despondency he wears like a cloak sees to that. All you want to do is hug him. Sing him a lullaby. He looks flat enough, deflated enough, that you could lie him on your floor and use him as a bath mat. Of course, apart from those persistent, voluminous curls.

But, it’s more than that. There’s something else about him which means you’re simply not laughing.

Instead, you’re… looking.

Is it his infeasibly long lashes, fanning out over his cheek? The set of his sharp jaw bobbing gradually towards his chest? His broad hands, resting - palms up - against his denim-clad thighs?

You snatch your eyes away. Christ. You’re sure this can’t be right. You don’t think it’s illegal, but surely it can’t be right to - effectively - watch someone sleeping, can it? Without their knowledge? Even on a bus, there’s surely rules for that sort of thing?

Regardless, for the sake of his physical safety (quite aside from any -ahem- personal motivations you may have), you’ve been keeping a pretty close eye over in his direction ever since he’d boarded. You’d watched him shuffle aboard the bus, immediately dropping his Oyster card on the floor, and almost losing the lid off that bright pink, heart-shaped box of chocolates - currently tucked under one elbow - while he bent to retrieve it. He’d practically gone full Frank Spencer.

Well. Typical Steven, you’d thought to yourself as you saw the scene unfold. This poor bugger can never seem to catch a break.

Oh, yes, that’s right - you do know his name.

And whilst he’s technically a stranger, in that you’ve never been formally introduced, you know a fair few other things about him too.

You’re not a stalker or anything - it’s just that by divine intervention, this rather cute man has happened to share your bus route for the past few months; a fact which utterly delights you (that full-on tummy butterfly level of delight) - around 8:30am and at 5:30pm, Tuesday through Friday.

In your past few months of very distant admiration of him, you have learned a few things. You know, for example, that he alights for work near Museum Street. You know that he’s a bit of a bookworm - ancient history, puzzles, and poetry almost exclusively. That he drinks an unholy amount of coffee from a large keep-cup. (Oat milk too - you’d noted the little barista-applied sticker that one time.) You know that while he’s seemingly awkward and generally knackered as all fuck while he’s awake…he’s positively breathtaking when he’s sleeping.

You know that his name is Steven. Never Steve or Steve-o or anything else. You know this, because you’ve overheard copious sweet voicemails he’s left for his mum on his journeys home, detailing whatever he’s been up to that particular day. He’s so soft spoken that you never quite catch the details, but you can’t miss his sign-off of “Laters, gators”, which makes your face split with a bright, involuntary grin whenever you hear it.

You’ve learned something about yourself too, through your casual but routine observances of him. You’ve learned that you clearly have a soft spot for environmentally-conscious history nerds with pretty, dark curls; because you’ve definitely developed a little bit of a soft spot for him.

Finally, and probably most importantly, you’ve come to learn which his correct bus stop is too. A knowledge which, unbeknownst to Steven, has saved his hide on a number of occasions.

After witnessing his abject dismay, several times now - the man having jerked himself awake moments too late, watching his stop slink by the window in a blur with gentle, resigned despair - you took it upon yourself to intervene. To offer a little helping hand.

Your interventions are subtle, to say the least. Sometimes you will cough loudly -once- within earshot, or stage a very sudden telephone call at just the right volume to be mildly intrusive. Sometimes, you will simply nudge him awake with a gentle hand, pressing the bell on his behalf with a soft smile so that by the time he comes to, filtering through the layers of sleep and back to reality, he finds the bus pulling-in precisely where he wishes to alight, and at just the right moment.

Yes, your interventions are subtle… but perhaps a little too much so?

You’ve noticed him - can’t help but notice him - but you don’t believe he’s noticed you.

How could he, you suppose, when he won’t meet your gaze, whenever you bravely attempt to spark up a conversation or share a smile? Or, how could he see you when his eyelids are always dropping with tiredness - or closing altogether as he drifts off. Why would he notice you, anyway? Someone like him? Someone as perfect as him?

Still, you hold out hope that one day you might finally make a lasting impression. Especially after that one day recently, when he finally paid you some direct attention.

He had looked a little different that day. More awake, for starters - maybe that had been it. He’d been standing taller. Carrying a gold fish in a small plastic bag, arm hung down by his side. And, when he had boarded the bus, as usual, he had noticed you right away. His big brown eyes had snagged on yours. He had appraised you confidently, instead of shyly, offering you an effortless smile as he had looked you up and down. Successfully walking a fine line of being appreciative, without it coming off at all as lecherous.

He’d looked at you. Really looked at you, and you’d thought about him all day after that. Then, you had barely stopped thinking about him since.

“Jesus Christ, Steven,” you grumble in the present moment, as his torso once again sways precariously.

In response, thinking on your feet, you slot yourself hurriedly into the vacant seat next to him, so that you can better subdue his near-perilous movements.

Jesus. The bus driver is particularly chaotic today. Must want to get back to the depot stat, given this is the last bus of the night and his shift will be due to end.

You’re riding the bus home later than usual today, after seeing a late night exhibition. You’d taken yourself, on your monthly “self-date” - because none of your friends seem to be quite as into the “weird” and/or “shit” things you personally enjoy frequenting. And so, given the lateness, you were very surprised to see Steven appear here at the same time too.

Even stranger than that, was the fact that he’d been on a date by himself too. You’d quite accidentally eavesdropped on today’s voicemail to his mum. Given that the bus was near empty at this hour - aside from a cantankerous looking woman sat on the folding seats at the front, and a bunch of drink-addled football fans (wasn’t the match yesterday?) singing up in the top deck - it would have been hard not to overhear. He’d told his mum that the date had gone well. That she’d loved the chocolates and the flowers. Yet, between the fact he was alone, still had both those items in his possession, and looked like he was about to burst into tears at any given moment, you deduced that was a lie. Or; if not a lie, at least a truth he couldn’t bear to hear out loud quite yet.

You’d guessed that maybe he was stood-up, from context, and you find yourself wishing desperately that you could have switched places with his date tonight. You would have shown up. You would have told him how handsome he looks in this black buttoned-up shirt of his. You would have kissed him goodnight, if he’d wanted to kiss you too.

How sad, you think - your eyes sweeping over the now crushed roses - that you were both out tonight alone, each of you wishing for some company.

You shuffle a little closer to Steven, keeping as much of a respectful distance as you can on the seat. You clip your hand on to his arm like a little Lego person’s, pinning him in place and making sure he’s more or less maintaining his upright position. No danger of his face colliding with anything here. Not under your watch.

The woman at the front of the bus looks judgementally at you for it. Or, maybe that’s simply her face and you are using her as an avatar for judging yourself. “I’m not robbing him or anything,” you shout-whisper in her direction. “Just want him to keep all his teeth.”

You like his teeth. They’re perfectly imperfect.

As you ponder on that thought, the bus jerks to a sudden stop, the driver leaning out of the window and shouting at some poor cyclist. And, of course, the slamming on of brakes causes Steven to jerk awake.

Oh shit. You hadn’t thought about what would happen when he woke up.

Here you are, sat right next to the bloke, in a different seat than you had been in before, on an almost empty bus. Steven’s eyes open slowly, and he looks at you in rightful confusion. “Hello.” You greet shakily, still clutching on to his jacket. Oh damn. You really hadn’t thought this all the way through, had you? “I’m not trying to rob you or anything. I just wanted you to keep all of your teeth,” you blurt hurriedly, falling back on your last coherent thought.

His eyes widen and he lifts a hand to his mouth and jaw in concern, feeling his face with his fingertips and drawing them down to look at them, as though he expects them to come away covered in blood or something. He seems exceptionally relieved that his teeth and jaw remain intact.

Fuck. You hadn’t meant to alarm the man.

“Hiya?” he says then, with a dazed, sleepy blink. And then… a slower blink. Well actually - it turns out - half a blink, since it results in him closing his eyes and not opening them again.

Yeah. Also known as sleeping.

He’s sleeping again.

So much for your lasting impression.

You sigh out a breathy laugh at your own expense and at the ridiculousness of the situation, but this time, as Steven keels over into the land of slumber, his head falls sideward, until it comes to rest softly on your shoulder. His head! On your mother-freaking shoulder!

“You sweet sleepy prince,” you chide far too fondly, thinking that perhaps, you can gently shrug him off before he settles there. However, your gentle jostling fails to rouse him, and you don’t have the heart for anything more vigorous.

Well shit. What do you do now?

Is this… okay? You know him and he doesn’t know you. Not at all. Is it okay to let someone sleep on your shoulder if they don’t know they’re doing it but you do know that they are and they don’t know that you do know them even though they don’t know you, or what?

Wow. Your gold medalist sprinting thoughts race to the worst case scenario, as they usually do, and you are practically running through your defence before the jury in your head within moments. “I wasn’t robbing him, your honour!”

Alright, you think, after a few deep, calming breaths. It’s alright. You don’t think it’s illegal to let someone who fell asleep on your shoulder continue to rest there. Possibly not even morally objectionable either. If anything, aren’t you doing him a favour? Letting him get some proper shut eye? He sure as hell seems to need it.

You gulp though. Because, oh god. What happens this time when he wakes up? Wakes up nuzzled into you? You’ve left it too long now as well. You’ve let this whole goddamn situation spiral out of control and there’s no possible way you can ever come back from this, is there?

You fix your eyes straight ahead in panic at the fact you now have a glorious Steven head parroting on your shoulder, light little puppy snores sounding from him. Snores which are so cute you feel like your heart is being crushed in a vice.

There’s only one remaining option left, you realise.

To consult the group chat.

Hastily, you retrieve your phone from out of your coat pocket, keeping one arm very still so as to not disturb the still-technically-a-stranger, thankfully able to type sufficiently well with your other hand.

“!!!!!!!! Help me!!!!! Bus crush man is asleep on my shoulder. This is not a drill! What the fuck do I do?”

Your friend Amy is first to respond. Within a second. Slow night at work, mate?

Bestie: “😂😂😂😂Couldn’t keep him awake could you you boring sod?”

Then, the pings come thick and fast.

Foz: “Bus crush man!!! 😍”

Harps: “Is that the sleepy one? …Or was that bookshop crush man?”

Bestie: “He’s *asleep* on her, what do you think? 😂😂😂. Anyway keep up, bookshop man is old news. It’s all about the curly cutie these days 👀”

You sigh. Can they get to the bit where they’re helping soon, or what?

You: “Helpful guys, thanks a lot 🙄 My expiration is imminent - are you not getting this?”

As your shoulders rise and fall with your deep sigh, contemplating how this situation is 100% terrible, actually, Steven stirs a little with the motion of you dejectedness. Suddenly terrified that he’s woken up, with a perfect view of your phone screen, you twist your head in horror to check he’s still snoozing. The last thing you need is to have to explain who “bus crush man” is to “bus crush man” himself. However, as you twist your head, the shift in position dips your nose down towards his luxurious curls, and you practically let out a moan of pleasure as you exhale your inhale. Jesus his hair smells good. Like honey. Like cinnamon. Like freesia. He smells mother fucking edible. Like some divine nectar of the gods.

You: “Oh fuck me. Full on panic stations, you lot. He smells so. Fucking. Gooooood.”

Bestie: “Fucking Perv 😂😂😂”

Harps: “Get a new emoji, Ames. You’re such a bloody milennial.”

Foz: “Wait. Explain. Are you on the bus or did you pull him?!!!?! I thought you said he’d been blanking you for weeks, babes?”

Bestie: “Keep up, bitch. On Thursday he was making eyes.”

Well this endeavour is useless. They won’t stop prattling on and you, meanwhile, inch ever closer to your doom.

You: “Cheers for the stellar advice, you absolute numbnuts (affectionate). I’ll figure it out myself, shall I?”

Bestie: “wait!”

Finally.

Bestie: “I know what you should do.”

You’re waiting.

Bestie: “send us a selfie so we can get a proper look at him 😂😂😂”

You huff out air in exasperation.

You: “Ames, I swear to god.”

Well. That was a dead end.

You love them but…

You’re the last single one of your group, and though that means they love to live vicariously through your dating adventures… it also sometimes means they are blooming useless when it counts.

You swear you can even feel your blood pressure spiking; but Steven, meanwhile, is apparently in a state of bliss. His breathing is slow and snuffly and soporific. His face is nuzzling into the crook of your neck, meaning that his soft, dense curls brush in an utterly heavenly way across the bare skin above your collar.

When that happens, sending a pleasant little shiver snaking down your spine, you perhaps look down at him a little more fondly than you should. As though he belongs there, next to you. Perhaps breathing in a little too deeply, eager to get a waft of his delicious scent again. You know you’re perhaps taking it too far, because the woman on the folding seat is giving you that very judgemental look all over again.

That’s when your next, rather horrifying thought strikes you.

Oh god! What if she wakes him up and tells him you were smelling his hair?! You think you would quite simply pass away if that was to happen.

Still, even though you didn’t know what to do at first, you are so glad you didn’t move away. You like feeling the weight of him up against you. Like his reassuring scent of cinnamon and old books. And his curls are so soft and still tickling the bare skin above your collar and… is he? Talking in his sleep? He is. Something precious and mumbly about a “beautiful dream.”

You smile softly to yourself, your heart growing three sizes.

A beautiful dream.

He deserves that, you think.

Sure, you don’t know him. Not really. But you’ve never seen him be anything but gentle. Never heard him say anything unkind. He’s never pushed his way through the crowded aisle or elbowed himself a touch more wiggle room on the busy commute. He’s never jumped the queue. He always gives up seat if somebody else needs it. He always remembers to call his mum. He never dog-ears the pages of his books. Always uses a bookmark. How could anyone like that not deserve beautiful dreams.

You know all too well what it’s like to have bad ones, and if his are good right now, you wouldn’t dare to rob him of a precious thing like that.

Now, you know you exactly what to do. You shouldn’t move him. You should let him have this sweet dream for as long as is possi-

-the bus jerks.

Fucking typical.

Steven’s eyes snap open and he looks around quickly. As if he’s trying to remember where he is after emerging from a deep state of contentment and into a sticky public bus. After skirting it around the interior of the bus, he turns his gaze to you, his eyes in soft focus still, his blinks languid. His gaze travels all over your face and he gasps in a small breath, his face lifting with the subtlest and purest of smiles.

For a moment, he looks at you as though through a veil of stars. As if you are his beautiful dream. As if he believes that he’s still dreaming when he looks at you, all wrapped up in the comforting blanket of it. Safe and warm.

That is, until a half-filled can of coke is chucked down the stairs of the bus, rolling and spluttering everywhere.

You seethe in a breath as Steven is snatched well and truly back to the waking world, harshly stolen from slumber, but slowly piecing it altogether.

“I’m so sorry. Did I?” He points cautiously at your shoulder, before wiping a trail of drool from his chin.

“You fell asleep on me.”

“I drooled on you a little bit there as well, look.”

You do look down, at a wet patch on your jacket. So he did. “Oh,” you wave a palm dismissively. “Don’t worry.” You’ve fantasied about kissing him enough that you don’t even find stranger-shoulder-drool repulsive. God, you really need a date.

He flounders for his next words for a moment, so your motor-mouth reliably pipes up to fill the gaps. “Was my conversation boring you or something?” you scoff lightly.

Steven looks mildly panicked. Apologetic. “Sorry. Were we talking?”

“No. Sorry.” You cringe. You weren’t, really. “It was a joke.” Yeah. Nice one. The best jokes are the ones you have to explain after the fact aren’t they. You’re such a fucking hoot.

Steven laughs kindly then. Blinks his dark-circled eyes at you, as if he’s still not quite sure if he’s awake.

“Heavy weekend?”

He puffs out air. Pumps his eyebrows. “Spent most of it blacked out.”

You raise your eyebrows in turn, and your lips form an “o”. You hadn’t pegged him for a warehouse rave type, or whatever other type of partying might cause him to black-out. Does he get rat-arsed on the regular?

Anyway, upon seeing your surprise at his words, it occurs to Steven that maybe that wasn’t a great thing to have said without any further context.

“I mean. Not really,” he says nervously. “That was a joke too.” You smile but you don’t laugh, contemplating the fact that you’re so desperate enamoured with him that you’d probably even go to a warehouse rave (your own personal hell) if it meant being closer to him. “I’m just tired. From the gym,” he adds.

You do laugh then, which makes the poor man look a little affronted. It’s not that he doesn’t have a “gym body” or anything like that - all sorts of bodies can be gym bodies. It’s just that he doesn’t exactly strike you as a muscle head. Besides, he seems to have his nose buried in a book so often that you simply don’t think he’d have time for repetitions of squat thrusts.

Heat finds your face when you consider him performing that motion however, and you opt to swiftly move on from any talk of the gym whatsoever - in case that leaves you deceased too.

“Well. Look at us,” you smile. “Two comedians, eh?”

A smile flickers at corners of his mouth. “Sit-down comedians…” Oh. You get it. Because you’re not doing stand-up. Your musical laugh lilts over him. “Maybe we can get that nice person over there to be out compère.” He gestures towards the cantankerous lady. “Hiya!” He waves down at her, an endearingly restrained little wave, accompanied with a cautiously bright smile.

“Cheeky sod,” she scolds, and his face drops immediately.

You take the moment to look out of the window, at the streets slipping by in a blur. You desperately try not to notice the single curl sticking up and out of place on Steven’s head as he turns to follow your gaze, because if you do you will be pummelled by his cuteness all over again, and it’s given you enough of a beating already today. “Sorry. I was just worried you’ll miss your stop. You get off by the Tesco express - is that the one?” He looks at you quizzically, and so you hastily explain. “I’ve seen you on here a few times. You’re a couple of stops before me so…”

“Oh!” He says, studying your face as though trying to place you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognise you. From the bus.” He looks at you and blinks in confusion, like he really has never noticed you before. Maybe you were imagining it on Thursday. “Yeah. That’s me. Next to the Tesco Express.”

“We said hello the other day actually. When you had the fish?”

Ouch. Well. That one hurts. Not even a flicker of recognition in his eyes when you say that. That’s a blow to the ol’ self-esteem.

God. Maybe he’d been smiling at someone behind you and you jumped on it - like a total tool.

Regardless, though, of whether he knows you, you’ll still make sure he doesn’t miss his stop today. Just like usual.

Steven shakes his head softly in confusion. Lifting a head to scratch his crown of curls. “Sorry. It’s just… If I’d seen you, I definitely would’ve remembered you,” Steven says softly, that veil of stars over his gaze again as he studies you. Bashfully, you exhale a breath, and you wring your hands in front of you with nerves. Well, that’s a nice sentiment for sure. But, clearly it’s not the truth, is it? He did forget you. Steven looks at the floor as if in apology. “I mean. You seem completely lovely.” God, this is worse, you think. Can’t he just gloss over the fact he has zero clue who you are and move on? Still, in the next moment, he looks achingly sad, ever so suddenly. His eyes wet. “Only thing I can think is… Must have thought you were a dream.” His fave grows pinched. “A beautiful dream. Can’t always tell the difference, some of ‘em. Seem so real sometimes, don’t they?”

You nod, blinking profusely. Trying to understand what to make of all of this.

And wow. Shit. Why is there a lump in your throat, exactly? You swallow it down. It feels all scratchy. Your chest feels full of emotion.

You hate seeing him in pain. You only want to make it better.

You don’t understand everything he’s talking about - not precisely. But you do know something about that feeling. About not understanding what’s real. Not knowing the difference. You’ve been plagued by night terrors since you were a child. You always believe you’re awake when the monsters visit, however hard you try to understand they’re not really there.

You follow Steven’s gaze down to his lap, where he now nestles the battered box of chocolates.

There’s that lump in your throat again.

You know he was likely stood-up, but you don’t entirely feel like admitting you eavesdropped on his conversation, and so, you offer a prompt. He can be the one to decide how much he’d like to share with you.

“Secret admirer?”

He laughs pitifully. “Yeah. No. I don’t think so,.. more like blatant enemies at the minute, actually.” You nod your head in sympathy. Again, you’re not entirely following what he’s meaning, but the feeling of him being cut-up about it translates perfectly. “I got stood up a little bit. On a date.”

You hum in understanding, conveying your sympathies. You hold yourself back from gushing that you can’t possibly imagine - can’t understand why anyone wouldn’t jump at the chance to be with him. “Well. You know what they say. Rejection is redirection.”

He perks up a little. Offers you a soft smile. “Rejection is redirection. Yeah. I like that.”

He looks into your eyes again. Really looks at you, and then he nods his head as if he’s made his mind up about something, with utter certainty.

“Do you like chocolates? I don’t wanna waste ‘em.” Upon seeing light shock pass over your face he backpedals, just a touch. “And anyway, I’m vegan so I can’t even eat these. Properly hate food waste, so…”

“Thank you, but my mum always told me not to takes sweets from strangers.”

“Oh of course. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be creepy or anything. Thought it might be nice. I hate food waste so…”

“I meant…” You bump your elbow against his. “I can’t take sweets from strangers. So… maybe you’d better introduce yourself?”

His face cracks into a smile now that he understand you. That’s better. So much better, seeing him happy. “I’m Steven. Steven Grant. I work in a gift shop.”

“Nice.” You can’t stop grinning. Can you ride around on this bus forever, please? You offer your name next. Steven repeats it under his breath a few times, as if desperately trying to embed it in his core memory. And, since he provided his profession too, “I work in a library.”

“A library! That’s amazing!” His genuine, unfiltered enthusiasm makes you laugh with surprise. There’s such a purity about him. Not necessarily an innocence; but a forthright integrity that seems all to rate these days. You get the sense that although he’s soft-spoken and unassuming, he shouldn’t be underestimated. That he know what he likes, what he wants, and what he stands for. You like that about him.

“The gift shop’s always the funnest bit. What’s the best ware that you stock?”

He turns more in his seat, angling his body towards you. Your knees bump together briefly. “Well. It’s mostly plastic stuff, yeah? Which ultimately isn’t great for the fishes is it? But we do have these little pyramid paper weights. They’re quite snazzy, I think.”

“Paper weights, hmm? Is that what the pyramids were built for?” you jest. “I’d always wondered about that.”

“Actually they were used for…” Steven begins to correct, out of sheer passion and breadth of knowledge of the topic more than anything, until he clocks the wide, playful grin on your face, your hand falling on to his forearm as you shake with mirth. “It was a joke,” he realises in time, huffing out a soft laugh.

“It was a joke, Steven,” you confirm good-naturedly.

A pleasant silence falls over the two of you, and you can feel the dull warmth of his arm burning through his layers. However, just then, his stomach rumbles rather loudly. “Sorry. Still a bit hungry, and I really didn’t want to eat these chocolates if I can help it. Already had a steak today - so I haven’t been too kind to the cows.”

“Oh here…” you rifle briefly in your handbag, for your leftover half-pack of Doritos. You unfurl the packet and offer the mouth to him. “Would you like a mini pyramid? I think these are vegan.” His soft yet chaotic laugh, and the way his eyes crinkle at your lame joke, has to be the most beautiful thing in the world, you think. “Or… what did your caregivers tell you about taking snacks from strangers?”

“Well,” he says softly, looking up at you from beneath his lashes in a way that makes you feel like you’re spinning. “We’re not strangers anymore, are we?”

“No,” you breathe, voice far too husky as Steven blinks bashfully at you. “I guess we’re not.”

There is a gentle heat eddying in between you, you think, but then, despite every effort to stifle it, you’re sure, Steven fractures it with a sudden yawn.

“Am I keeping you up?” you joke, certainly not blaming the poor man.

“Sorry. It’s not you. Definitely not you. I’m just so knackered.”

Yes. You’d picked up on that as a theme from his life.

“Do you want to get some more shut eye? You can lean on me again if you like,” you offer. “I really wouldn’t mind if you did.” Really. No lie.

Steven looks mistily down towards your shoulder, as if that sounds rather appealing. “That sounds lovely. But… I don’t want to go to sleep.” You furrow your brows in light confusion. That sounds a little counterintuitive. “Don’t want to forget you,” he admits. “Don’t want to confuse you for a dream.”

You smile at him. A little too fondly. God, you’re plummeting for this man. Fast. “You’ll know I’m real, dafty.”

“How?” His eyes go big and round and soft, searching yours in earnest as though you hold all the secrets he’s been searching for answers to.

“‘Cause you’ll see me when you wake up, won’t you?”

It’s that simple. Really. But it causes Steven to deliver a happy but bewildered smile. “That would be nice.” He flusters. “Really nice, that.” He glances down at your lips, his gaze a little heavy. With desire this time? Maybe?

Wait.

Hang on a minute.

Does he like you?

You really hope he likes you. You try to turn the flirtation up a notch to test the waters. Try to push things a little in that direction, if he’s willing. Turns out, you barely even have to try to inject flirtation into your voice at this point. Your desire has sunk into your middle and your voice has sunk with it, becoming a deeper, husky thing. “Or… if you really do want to stay awake. I… I think I can find some way to keep you up?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. Wait with bated breath for his reaction.

He gulps. You see it trail down his throat. You see a deeper colour flush his brown skin, heat crawling up his neck, even as he nods with vehement agreement at the prospect. “Yeah? You reckon?”

“Mmm.” You smile saucily, hoping he likes this new direction. You think that he does. He looks like he’s going to blow a gasket… or something.

“That would be…” His gaze drops to your lips again. “Really nice.” He makes a strangled sound in his throat. You see his hand shift, as though he almost moves to place it on your thigh and then thinks better of it - much to your dismay. “Do you like puzzles?” he blurts then, in a higher-pitched, rather choked-out voice.

Gosh. He’s cute when he’s nervous too. Maybe you’ll make him nervous later -in a good way. If he wants you to.

“What? Like Wordle?” His curveball takes you by surprise. Unless a puzzle is some new sex fad you know nothing about because it’s been so long since you last did it with anyone. Entirely plausible.

“What’s wordle?”

“Oh my god. Steven. Are you living under a rock?”

He pulls on his collar. Pops the top button open. “You probably don’t want to see where I’m living.” Another gulp. “There’s a lot of sand. I’ve got some sand issues at the minute, so it’s not the best time for visitors.”

You lick your lips, an unintentional drag of your tongue along your lower lip, and the gesture seems to drive Steven wild. He makes another strangled little noise. Something like a creak. Like he’s straining under the weight of his own desire, his chin jutting a little closer, closing a little of the gap between you.

“Shit,” you realise when it’s too late. When you’ve already whizzed by the Tesco. “Steven, we missed your stop.”

You failed him.

He follows your gaze out of the window. “Bollocks. And it’s pissing it down now as well. Next stop isn’t for ages.”

You bite your lip, hastily forming a plan. “Do you… Um. Would you… want to come back to mine until the rain stops? I can show you what wordle is. Make you some coffee?” You gesture down to his lap. “Help you finish those chocolates?” How many reasons can you give to tempt him? “And… Um. I don’t have any sand problems at my place. Not one.” You smack your lips together.

“I dunno. Do you…” he takes a huge breath. You wait on tenterhooks for his question. “Do you have any oat milk?”

Is that his dealbreaker?

He seems uncertain. Nervous. And so, you have a flash of concern. You don’t want to pressure him. Not at all. Not in the slightest. “You don’t have to. Obviously. I just thought it might be nice.”

Steven bravely reaches his arm out then. His fingertips brushing along the sleeve of your forearm, so gingerly that it makes your eyes flood with unexpected tears. “I think that would be perfect, actually.” He looks quite sure now that he would like that.

Meanwhile, you are transfixed with him, with his hand sweeping along you. It causes a hot flush of your skin. A prickle of sweat under your coat.

“It’s late though,” he asks softly. “Won’t I be keeping you up?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m a bit of an insomniac. Steven blinks at you then, as though you’ve just said something of deep significance. You wave your hand in the air. “It’s a whole thing. Night terrors. Sleepwalking. I just need somebody to tie me down to the bed, I think.”

Oh god. It’s an offhand comment you’ve used 100 times before as shorthand for your sleeping challenges. A way to play it off lightly - not invite too many questions. But when Steven almost combusts -a vein popping beneath his eye and one in his forehead- you realise what you’ve just said, and with him, the words seem to hold a different meaning.

Did you really just say that?

Did you actually just say that?

You need someone to tie you down to the bed?

Steven laughs nervously, but his eyes are unblinking now. He seems fully awake. Fully invested. “Was that a joke as well?”

Alright. Fine. You’ll risk it.

You toss him a subtle wink. “Only if you want it to be.”

He makes an unintelligible, stuttered noise.

Ding.

Hurriedly, you reach out to press the bell. It wouldn’t do to miss your stop as well.

“Really, Steven.” You reassure firmly as the bus swings around the mini roundabout. “You don’t have to come back with me. Or, if you just want a cuppa while you wait for the rain to stop you can do that. Whatever you feel comfortable with. Alright?”

His face twists. “It sounds very lovely. I… I want to. I just… Sometimes I lose track of time. Don’t want to overstay my welcome.” He looks out at the pelting rain, as if to point out it looks like there’s no quick end in sight. That he might be at your place for hours.

“Well.” A hard swallow trails down your throat. “That’s okay by me. You can stay all night if you like.” A sudden heat burns in your cheeks when you hear your words out loud. You hadn’t meant it like that, not really. You’d just meant he can stay as long as he likes.

Even so…

You can’t say you would be opposed.

“Okay,” he nods, a cautious smile tipping his full lips. “Yeah. Grand. Thank you.”

“Okay?” You ask again, out of surprise that he’d be interested in spending longer in your company, more than anything. But then, you remember. That Steven seems like a man who knows what he wants.

He nods again. You feel positively giddy.

You continue to feel giddy as the bus drops you off, and you hastily put your umbrella up. Steven shuffles closer to you, upon being invited, to fit beneath it and shelter from the rain, and this action places your face pleasantly close to his.

He looks at you again. Like you’re a dream, and you hope that you’ve finally managed to make a lasting impression.

You let out an awkward laugh, as everything in you screams out. You’re close enough to kiss, if you wanted. If he wanted.

Steven is wordless, his lips curved softly upwards. His eyes soft as he engages in a gentle study of you. And wow. Given that you were talking about being tied to a bed only moments ago - a bolder topic - his sheer proximity is making you infeasibly shy.

“I’m just down this street here,” you gesture, and Steven nods softly.

“Okay.”

You smile back.

“Can I…” His voice is even smaller than usual. You have to lean closer again to hear him. “Can I hold your hand?”

Your face splits into a huge smile at the sweetness of him, a surge of happiness rushing in your chest. “Yes,” you answer quickly, voice all breath. And so, you turn to walk side by side, huddling close to stay beneath the canopy of the umbrella, and Steven slots his hand into yours.

His palm fits yours so well, his hand broad and pleasantly warm. You feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. You never want to let him go.

“That feels really nice.” Steven gushes, even sounding a little emotional about it. Maybe he’s been alone as long as you have, wishing for someone to hold.

“It does, doesn’t it?” you agree. You might even be a little emotional too.

“You’re so lovely,” Steven praises, then immediately thinks better of it. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Steven. You can compliment me if you like.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think you’re lovely too.”

He tugs ever so gently on your hand, and draws you to a stop, the two of you coming face to face again, rain thundering down on the pavement all around you and bouncing up on to your shoes. “I think you’re really pretty,” he gushes earnestly. “Like a beautiful dream.”

“Can I kiss you, Steven?”

He nods. “Please.”

When your lips press to his cheek, for a sweet, chaste kiss, you certainly do feel like this is the stuff that dreams are made of.

The next day

You: Amy.

You: Amy?!!!

You: Are you awake?

Bestie: (….)

You see that she’s finally typing and you fire off your message at record speed.

You: Bus crush man spent the night 😱😱😱😱

Bestie: 🤯 I stg I just spat my coffee all over the cat. Babe!!! Tell me everything. How was it?

You: *melts into puddle*

Bestie: 😍 Deets. More.

You: We talked basically all night. Really talked. And then… this morning we… you know.

Bestie: I can *see* you wiggling your eyebrows right now. You mean you bonked? 👀

You: I can’t believe I’m about to say this but we basically made love, Ames. It was… it was just. Perfect.

Bestie: baby girl 🥺🥺🥺 I’m so happy for you! And your vagina! 🎉

You: 😂

You: Ames. I’m a bit scared though, tbh. I haven’t felt this amazing in a long time. Am I being a major idiot? I think… I think he felt the same way too.

Bestie: I’m sure he did, you’re a catch bbz. Have you spoken to him since?

You: He’s been at work all day. But he should be finished now. He gets on my bus at the next stop. Shit he’s there. My heart has left my body I’ve gtg - I’ll ttyl ok? Love you x x

Bestie: Love you. Come round for goss. Stat!

You watch Steven preparing to board the bus with your heart in your mouth. Before settling your phone in your pocket, you fire off one final message to her.

You: I think this might be it Ames. I really think this might be my person.

Bestie: 😍😍😍😍 He’d be a lucky man to have you, hun.

You are physically shaking with pleasant nerves as Steven boards, and you’re already smiling fondly. The process is a hell of a lot smoother than it was yesterday - no comedy routines. He’s standing taller too. Looking more confident. You hope that has something to do with you, and what you got up to last night.

He walks up the aisle, and settles himself in a spot next to you. “Hi,” you smile giddily, the breath all but punched out of your lungs. Your cheeks straining against the sheer force of your smile. He’s so handsome.

“I’m sorry,” he says robustly, a confused divot notching in his brow. “Have we met?”

You bat his arm playfully with the back of your hand. “Haha.” You deadpan. “Very funny Steven. You’re such a comedian.”

He looks at you blankly. “I’m sorry. You must have the wrong guy.”

You blink in confusion when his eyes fail to soften upon greeting you. When he fails to drop whatever bit he’s doing. You frown, shocked by how fast the tears ball into your lashes. “Steven? This isn’t funny.” Why do you suddenly feel sick?

You tug on his sleeve ,but Steven pulls his arm from out of your grasp, taking a step back. “Really. You seem swell, but I’m sorry. I’m not your guy.”

He’s not your guy.

You swallow, but the lump in your throat stays there. You look at him through a haze of tears, which you battle to quell. He isn’t is he? He’s not your guy. Maybe he was never destined to be, for this person in front of you now seems like a different man entirely. His whole manner different.

Where has the warmth gone, which he showed you last night? Where is that man?

The man of your dreams?

You look at him pleadingly, and still nothing.

Is this one of your night terrors? For this is the only plausible way the man before you now could possibly exist, isn’t it? A cruel monster capable of dismissing you so readily, after all the ways your opened your heart and your body up to him mere hours ago.

“Steven,” you whisper, in one last ditch attempt, but your plea is ineffectual. He reaches his arm out to you, but this time it is you who steps away, not wishing for his duplicitous hands to touch you again.

What a coward. What a bastard. Of all the cruel ways to fob you off, this is what he’s chosen? He had got what he wanted from you, hadn’t he? Taken it. Pretended to be who you needed just to get into your knickers, and now…

Well now, you don’t even recognise the man before you.

With tears now cascading down your face, you elbow your way towards the front of the bus, dinging the bell repeatedly and pleading at the driver to pull over as fast as possible. “Stop the bus. Stop the bus. Please. I need to get off. I need to get off!”

You feel humiliated. Used.

You spill out on to the pavement, and your feet carry you to the nearest wall, where you lean up against it. You’d sob your heart out, but he’s already stolen it. Already crushed it.

You hope you never have to look at him again.

You’d had one night together.

One which had seemed blissful and magical, at the time. At least for you. But, clearly, with Steven, that hadn’t been the case.

Clearly, you’d failed to make any sort of lasting impresion.

Wednesday

Steven wakes up in his bed to the sound of his alarm.

He awakes with a start, as always. Flashes of this and that come back to him, but one image stands out to him in stark relief.

A face. A lovely, pretty face.

He’d just had the most beautiful dream of his life.

A dream that has seemed so real, that he even looks for you as he proceeds with his day. Looks for you on his bus route home. Scours the faces of the passengers, searching for yours.

He doesn’t find you.

He doesn’t find you, so he can only conclude that you never were real at all, and of all the things Steven has come to doubt, this has to be the most painful thing of all.

“Just a beautiful, perfect dream,” he mouths sadly to himself as he alights the bus one or two stops too late. He’d fallen asleep again.

When he steps off, he looks around. He doesn’t think he’s been there before, but that street off to the left looks awfully familiar.

He looks down at his hand then. At his palm, as though it’s suddenly cold and empty; but then he shakes his head.

“A beautiful dream,” he mouths again, and he wanders home alone.

He’d give anything to see your face one more time.

Anything at all.

#steven grant x reader #moon knight spoilers #Marc Spector x reader #moon knight x reader #oscar isaac

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iambilliejeanok · 2 years

Text

Uchiha relations

Warnings: 18+, sfw, nsfw, smutty smut smut.

Obito

SFW

I feel like he’s more of the sweet kind of boyfriend…

The treatment you get from him is absolutely over the moon. He’s really mean to everyone else but he treats you like a delicate rose, and it makes you feel somewhat special….

Loves to engage in activities you enjoy taking part in. He will try and paint or draw with you if you’re a creative, and is literally your number one fan when it comes to anything you do really.

Although he is quite the busy bee, he does make it a priority to spend quality time with you. To him quality time is absolutely important and he loves to learn all these little new things about you. He recently discovered that you tend to struggle to speak full sentences that actually make sense when you’re emotionally overwhelmed and he wraps his arms around you and kisses your entire face. After he notices that he’s like yeah I’m spending the rest of my life with you because you’re so precious🥺

He definitely has killed for you. Some deaths you know of, some, he’d rather you didn’t know about. But he’s very protective of you, and always keeps tabs on where you are and what you’re doing. It’s not an obsessive behavior and you barely care, but it does make you feel reassured and safe all the time.

NSFW

Fucks you like an absolute whore!

Because of the busyness of his colossal plan to save the world, the two of you seldom have sex because Obito would rather spend the time he makes to be by your side on actually hanging out with you and doing fun stuff together over having sex.

If you do find yourselves having sex, it’s probably something you initiated. He can do without the sex honestly, so he only really fucks you when you ask him to.

He doesn’t last too long, which is ideal because you’re not in pain after a long night of fucking, but you do come back to back for sure.

You’ve had to teach him how to please you and when I tell you he took it a little too far because you’re shaking and whimpering every time he makes you come.

Absolutely loves eating you out okay. He could spend hours down there if you let him. You usually let him eat you out whenever he wants to, and sometimes you ask him to and he happily complies just because it’s you he’s getting to taste.

He’s so good at finger you until you until you’re begging him for god knows what. And he’s lowkey amused by how desperate and clingy you become when he toys with your pussy.

When he’s fingering you on his lap, he also kisses you because he loves it when you can’t kiss him back and you’re tugging on his hair while looking into his eyes with that needy look in your eyes. He absolutely loves it.

He will make you come until you’re a complete mess. You can’t even think properly and it’s embarrassing how stupid you become when you’re in the midst of an amazing orgasm.

Honestly, he just wants to serve you because you’re an absolute queen to him. He feels honored to be able to make you cry like this. It makes him feel very special. Like wow he’s the lucky man who gets to see a beautiful, strong person like you so vulnerable and needy, letting him have complete control over you, making all your decisions for you because you’re too overstimulated to think.

Obito’s cuddle game is on level 💯. Like honestly you’re so happy that you’ve found a man who loves you how you deserve to be loved and he’s happy to be with a person who brings light and love to his dark, broken soul.

Shisui

SFW

Shisui over here is a very needy lover. He’s extremely touchy and always has to be all over you. He feels like your aura and energy somehow manage to keep him together.

He’s a tiny bit co-dependent but not in a destructive manner. It’s more so like he chooses you to be his form of therapy.

He loves doing absolutely everything with you. Even holding your hand when you’re peeing. You wonder when did this thing of him peeing with you even become a thing.

He loves being a baby around you. He genuinely feels safe and sound being held and caressed in your arms🥺

Loves to call you mama sometimes because you’re just so wholesome and your love and care is elite!

Very clingy baby, he absolutely loves skin on skin cuddles, always burying his hands under you clothing and rubbing you. Excellent booty rubs that put you to sleep every time.

When he’s really tired, he buries his head between your breasts and you play with his hair, scratching his scalp and detangling his messy, thick, black hair. His literally safe place.

He’s wants you to straddle him and hold him every morning the two of you wake up together.

All he cares about really is being with you. As long as you can drown him in affection, he’s yours forever.

Loves to take off any excess weight off your shoulders. He honestly doesn’t like seeing you too busy. So he’ll take on tasks you’re busy with so you have more time to just relax….with him

NSFW

He’s very dominant in a submissive kind of way 🤔 like he wants to top you from the bottom lol.

Loves it when you’re straddling him and struggling to continue riding him as his middle finger keeps plunging into your asshole while he’s got your ass in a firm grip, forcing you to ride him into bliss.

He loves loves loves back shots, only fucking you like this because of the beautiful view of your lovely ass jiggling with every thrust, slamming into him with the softest bounces 😩

He honestly loves ruining the both of you during sex. He will overstimulated you until you’re crying your heart out and he will overstimulated himself until he’s whimpering into your neck while fucking you.

You won’t say he’s aggressive, but he’s definitely too excited and it comes off as aggressive. You love the feeling of his tongue all over your clit, sucking and slurping you up like a vacuum while fingering you.

He really just knows how to drive you insane. He’s quite thick so it does end up hurting a little when he goes for too long, but the fact that you’re willing to endure that discomfort just so he can come is so romantic to him🥺

He’s always gonna Fuck you. That’s one thing about him. You sometimes feel like a little sex toy with how much he uses and abuses your body in such a cruel yet utterly satisfying manner.

He secretly loves having to hush you and pamper you with extra kisses and cuddles because he’s so deep inside of you and you can barely think, crying into his shoulder while he deep strokes you.

He’s not the type to go easy on you. He’s very much obsessed with how much control he has, making you take more for him like his good little pup.

He’s so mean but in the sweetest way, teasing you when you start whining and kicking as you near an orgasm. His heart melts at the sight of you attempting and dismally failing to make coherent sentences while he’s repeatedly hitting that spot that has you drooling.

Sasuke

Sfw

He’s definitely never going to admit it, and he doesn’t like you talking about it either, but he’s honestly a baby.

He genuinely loves being taken care of, and pampered by you. He loves cuddling and always wants you to play with his hair and sit in his lap while he’s busy with something.

He also gets so much satisfaction from helping you get stuff done. It’s also lowkey because he wants to spend more time with you.

He’s not the type to laugh and stuff like that, but he thinks you’re really funny and even though he’s only chuckling on the outside, deep down he’s dead.

He’s also very protective, and won’t think twice about murking anyone who gives you problems. You always run to him and tell on people who harass you or whatever. But this only happens once in a blue moon, no one is daring enough to try the last Uchiha or his partner😩

He feels most useful when he’s actually pampering and spoiling you. He takes you out on dates and walks and the two of you do a ton of fun stuff together. Loves to hold you to and he loves the feeling of your body close to his.

Btw his snuggly side is strictly reserved for private times. Don’t embarrass him, trying to cuddle and baby him in public because he will give in and now everyone knows he has a soft side! Why would you do this! You ruined his reputation☹️

NSFW

Ugh! He’s such a hard dom 😩

You always get shy and nervous like a damn school girl when he gives you that look you know.

He never gives in to any kind of begging, whining, crying. He will be extra soft and loving while you’re struggling under his actions but he won’t ever let you have your way😕.

So if he’s set on making you come a few times tonight, you’re going to come and you’re going to come hard. No fussing please.

He’s trained you to be a good girl for him and so far so good but he’s just really mean sometimes and you end up crying.

He’s only eats good girls out. So you’re extra sweet when you’re really in the mood to feel his tongue get all up in there. But when you’re bad you get a spanking and edged with his fingers. He won’t let you come until he buries his dick deep inside of you. While he’s still squeezing into you, your violently coming and he’s just like ugh sit still so I can fuck you damnit!

He’s also quite big so you really feel every single stroke. You always beg and cry when he’s fucking you slow and deep. Yet you really know what it is exactly you’re asking for.

“P-pleeasssse, ughhhhh!!!!”, you cry out, and he’s just there like “Yes baby, please what?”, and you start convulsing again and he’s like 🤷🏻 and simply praises you for coming.

You’ve got water proof comforters because you stay wetting the bed when the two of you tango like this. He loves the feeling of your squirting while he’s deep inside of you with all his life. It’s so euphoric to him when you’re both a sweaty and tangled mess, completely fucked out and ready for a damn good nap or to have a good sleep.

If you wake up from a nap and it’s early evening or early in the night, you two shower and go for a walk in the cool evening breeze, stopping by one of your favorite restaurants to get something to eat and maybe some ice cream.

Itachi

Sfw

Omg😩but Itachi’s love is so soft and kind.

He’s literally the kindest person you’ve met really.

Yes he killed his whole clan but you still trust him with your life.

He’s a little overly protective of you, and maybe a little clingy too. The type of partner who wants to know the who, what , when and why every time you go out.

He’s not controlling but he just really needs to know that you’re okay or he will lose it.

He’s always calm and cares for you so well. You’ll end up finding yourself involuntarily regressing because of how much he treats you like you’re small. He’s slowly making you co dependent.

To a point where he makes sure to cook you tasty, healthy meals and he even monitors how much you’re snacking and what you’re snacking on.

So if you’re a super independent person, he’s not there for you 😭

He wants you to feel like you need him. Just because he’s obsessed with caring for someone after abandoning his baby brother and killing his clan. He wants to feel like he’s still human.

Loves to lay with you and read books. Hold your hand while you play with his fingers and maybe even doze off in each other’s hold. He loves having you ontop of him all the time.

When the two of you argue and you get a little upset, he picks you up and babies you, sitting down with you and talking through all your emotions with him. He absolutely doesn’t like seeing his baby upset.

He loves it when you rub him a bath and massage his entire body before bedtime. Makes him feel so loved and wanted. Also makes him feel beautiful🥺 he never thought of the way he looked too much but you want make him feel like he’s physically appealing. It’s nice to feel that way sometimes.

He tries to make you laugh as much as he can and he won’t hesitate to tickle the life out of you if he senses even the slightest bit of bratting.

NSFW

Soft dom daddy😩

He cares so much about your orgasm. Thinks alot about the way you come. Always strives to make you come so hard. He knows it can be a little scary, but he easily needs you to give him your all.

Loves praising you even for the bare minimum. He will reward you with orgasms just because your pussy made him come.

Loves coming all over you, especially when you give him head? Oh my goodness this man loves head so much! And you do it absolutely fucking right all the time. He tells you to stop so he can pull out and paint your face, finding you to be absolutely stunning kneeling between his legs with your hands in your lap and your tits bare for him to fondle.

If you don’t stop and you decide to be a brat and suck him dry, he will pull you up to him when he’s managed to collect himself and prepare for the best 😩

“Didn’t I tell you to stop?”, he says , his voice so deep and low😭so sinister! And you’re there innocently nodding, your cheeks squished together as he holds your face in one hand. “Such a bad girl you are sweety”, he says, unexpectedly shoving his already rock hard cock back into you, thrusting into you so hard and fast, and you’re coming so hard you literally screaming , creating a big puddle on the bed as you cry for him, begging him to stop.

And he sinks deep inside of you and warns you not to move. “Don’t run babe”, he warns, but you seriously can’t handle him, screaming as you kick at him and desperately try to crawl away. You’re driving him crazy at this point😩😭

At any point in the day, he will grab a fistful of your hair and gently tug, his other hand under your skirt, rubbing your clothed clit while he’s greedily exploring your mouth. Your soft moans are being swallowed up in the kiss as your pleasure slowly builds. He will do this for as long as he wants, softly sucking on your tongue before shoving his in your mouth again. If you come good for you, but he’s not doing this to make you come, he’s doing this for his own entertainment.

Even when he eats you out, the experience is more so for him to enjoy rather than you, so even if you’ve already come all over his face, you’re just gonna have to suck on your fingers and hold his hand while he continues eating you out to tears.

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thedoctorisinlove · 2 years

Text

eddie munson ; jealousy headcanons

genre : fluff

pairing : eddie munson x gender neutral reader

disclaimer : mentions of making out

author's note : request i received from wattpad! established relationship!

⋆ now let me tell this man has a LITERAL jealousy problem going on. eddie is so insecure of himself but of course, would rather die than to ever admit that to you. he's trying to display this "snarky, sarcastic, funny, tough guy" persona for you but you know how eddie is already like.

⋆ this man would literally get so jealous over someone talking to you like, if he's eating and watching you in the distance talking to someone else, this man will be stabbing his poor broccoli over and over from frustration (random headcanon that eddie loves broccoli and veggies just because). would instantly get up to go to you once the broccoli is like in a million pieces.

⋆ "well, what do we have here?" he'd clap his hands while still swaying towards you, literally giving the person talking to you a diminishing look. he would literally belittle the poor person trying to have a normal conversation with you😭. forcing an unhinged laugh coated with sarcasm or just start up a new conversation with you, his hand already wrapping around your shoulders before you could piece together what he's doing.

⋆ if you someone is already talking to you while he's next to you, he'll be giving them a "hello, i'm here too what the fuck" look. he'd tighten his grip that he has on your waist or if his arm is around your neck, you can feel him pulling you closer to him.

⋆ eddie will literally be the most annoying, obnoxious man ever if someone is trying to attempt a conversation with you around. he'll be giving a lot of fidgeting looks and literally just whistle, blatantly attempting to make the other person feel as though they're disinteresting (he loves putting people in their places and humbling in general😭).

⋆ if you catch on, feel free to tease the fuck out of him. he'll be embarassed for acting this way but again, proudful a bit that anyone that flirts with you can never truly have you since you're already his.

⋆ "are you jealous?" "what? no, no, no.." his voice would be so squeaky as those last 3 words trail off into the air. he's not really even attempting to hide his blatant jealousy, he actually likes and prefers it when you notice how he feels for you.

⋆ now, if someone is flirting to you with him near you, eddie will not hesitate to fucking go off on them. a stream of curses let out of his lips, his knuckles are going white and he's mf ready to bloody his rings. eddie already has that scary aura around him, it won't be long until the person starts scampering off in fear.

⋆ eddie is genuinely considering beating the shit up on them so really, the only way to calm him down is just pepper a lot of kisses on his face so he forgets the entire ordeal (he doesn't). but it does help calm him down.

⋆ after that, if you're comfortable he'd start being much more affectionate with you in public. sitting down? you're planted on his lap. his hands aren't leaving your shoulder and waist anytime soon, and handholding is more apparent between you two now. draw circles around his hand or rings (he loves when you draw on both to be honest) to calm him down.

⋆ especially when you're around steve, that's when eddie paused and realized he has a serious jealousy issue. like, steve could just be striking up a casual conversation with you about frogs or anything that's remotely stupid and eddie feels so provoked. definitely because of that fuckboy thing that steve used to have.

⋆ he'd be sending death glares to steve and inspecting his every movement as in case steve would attempt something on you. would literally blurt to steve in mid sentence, "are you trying to steal my girl (boyfriend, lover)?" he'd be more of a bitch to steve than he used to be like, (if you're comfortable) he'd be making out with you in front of steve, and steve is "bro 🧍 you really gotta do this in front of me?" like, his lips are already on yours before you could greet steve.

⋆ and what have we learned today? jealous eddie is fucking hot.

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things s4 #stranger things eddie #stranger things eddie munson #stranger things eddie x reader #stranger things eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fic #eddie munson x reader fanfic #eddie munson x reader fics #eddie munson x reader fanfics #eddie munson x reader fanfiction #eddie munson x reader hc #eddie munson x reader hcs #eddie munson x reader headcanon #eddie munson x reader headcanons

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bernthal-brainrot · 3 years

Text

☆ 𝒗𝒊'𝒔 𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒄𝒂𝒌𝒆 | 𝒉𝒄

FEM!READER

･*:༅｡𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: language, nsfw content (labeled), violence?, adult content. minors beware.

･*:༅｡𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: what it would be like being in love with the piltover enforcer.

･*:༅｡𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: BARK BARK BARK AWOOGA, literally the hottest one on the show in my opinion, jinx being an extremely close second. I love her, please, she is the blueprint for my taste in women.

Vi might be extremely emotionally reserved, but not around you she isn't.

Literally like a horny frat bro. Will compliment or grab at your boobs or your ass at any given time because oh wow she loves your body.

Once you have her liking you, buckle down, cause you just gained a partner for life, buddy, she'll follow you around like a puppy dog.

Likes teaching you how to fight and throw a punch, and if you already know how to, she likes to get in play fights with you. Maybe on occasion, she'll even let you win.

Even though you do love her, her temper is extremely short. You know she wouldn't ever physically hurt you on purpose, but yelling matches aren't uncommon. She's too hot-headed, and you're too stubborn to back down.

makeup sex ensues.

Y'all know that one picture of two girls putting eyeliner on each other?

You can decide who's who, but holy shit. (y'all are absolutely boning after this.)

Loves taking you to the prettiest places Zaun has to offer. Likes taking you sightseeing.

Romantic relationships aren't her strong suit, so she likes that you're patient and understanding with her, even if she does get a little frustrating sometimes.

matching finger tattoos?!?!? YES?!!!!?!?! (thinking a ☽ and a ☆ but honestly if you have any better ideas, go for it.)

Watching her work those mechanical fists is absolutely magical (and lowkey a turn-on).

You are getting promise rings. No objections. If you have any protests, go argue with a wall. She is possessive and wants something to show others you belong to her.

You both share an annoyance for topsiders.

She is the biggest cuddle bug. She takes physical affection more seriously than verbal affection. Just holding her pinky with yours means a lot more to her than an 'i love you'.

Her nicknames are everywhere. From cupcake to sweetcheeks, to sugar tits, to literally anything else she can think of. It's actually really cute.

She's so physically fit, you could spend hours just running your hands up and down her biceps, I mean she is ripped.

Likes it when you ask her to tell you stories of her past. Adventures she used to go on. Unlike Jinx, Vi looks to her childhood fondly and only likes to focus on the good rather than dwell on the bad.

Never hand this woman a sharpie cause she'll doodle on your hand whenever she gets a chance. Loves drawing small things on you from time to time out of her own enjoyment.

You two may or may not get a cat together, who knows, that's for you to decide, and she may or may not name it cupcake. ("Look, cupcake! It's Cupcake!")

She somehow convinces you to get your nipples pierced, and if it isn't already, your nose as well. She's a sucker for piercings.

Has a strange obsession with kissing random parts of your face at random times. She wakes up before you? Boom. Kiss on your eyelids. You say something really cute? Bam. Kiss on your nose.

NSFW

TOP TOP TOP TOP TOP

Literally the most top bitch you will ever meet oh mY GOD.

She is literally so hot when she tells you what to do or when she praises you.

"Fuck, my good girl, aren't you?" "Such a precious thing" "On your knees, you know what to do, cupcake."

She can give you the most mind-blowing head and still be insatiable. You have to physically push her away to get her to stop. She could spend all day between your legs (please let her)

Loves to play with your tits, whether it's sucking, licking, biting, anything. She loves your water balloons and if you don't let her touch them, she gets grumpy.

No, because she has such defined abs, you already know she's gonna make you ride them. Seeing you on top of her and panting as you drag your swollen clit across her 6-pack just- oh my fucking god jhsdothoirhtoihoifht.

The best person at aftercare in the world, always super attentive, especially if you slip into sub-space.

Candles? Food? Bath? Water? Cuddles? Literally, ask and she'll get it for you.

She loves you so much to the point where she would kill and die for you. If that isn't the perfect partner, idk what is.

#vi arcane #vi x reader #league of legends x reader #arcane x reader #vi lol #vi arcane x reader #arcane imagines #arcane league of legends #arcane netflix #arcane #vi the piltover enforcer #vi imagine #league of legends #vi headcannon #jinx my beloved #jinx x reader smut #jinx x reader #jinx arcane #jinx

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hiroshikoi · 2 years

Text

Channeled Messages from your Future Spouse Helping You Sleep

Pick a Pile: Intuitive Reading

Pile One-Pile Two-Pile Three

Depending on what is said, if it is gender specific, please switch it to fit you. E.g. “What a pretty lady” to “What a handsome young man”

Thank you for a hundred followers! 🥳

How to Pick a Pile: Take the time to look at each picture above. Which one sparks a memory? What emotions do you feel? Do you feel anything at all? If all piles spark a memory, choose which one is the strongest. If none, try to go with the one that draws you in the most otherwise, these messages are not meant for you (at this time).

Photos aren’t mine, got it from pinterest and all credits go to the owner.

1 • Pile One

"Hello baby/beautiful, you doing okay? You know I'm always here for you. Call on me and I'll be there, and even if we can't physically meet yet (or haven't) maybe imagining me will suffice? *chuckles* Talk to me in your dreams and daydreams... Imagine me lying down beside you in your bed... not like in a creepy way though lmao I think the word is visualizing in that manifestation thing of yours yeah? I'd softly kiss your forehead, caress your hair, and..bury my nose in your head, breathing in your shampoo. Sorry if it sounds weird lol, but yeah you smell good. Cry your frustrations out to me, as much as I hate to see it...to see you cry.. you can let me baby you okay? I'll wipe your tears with both of my thumbs and hold your face in my hands.

You're strong and powerful but you don't have to hold anything back with me. I love you baby."

Your future spouse wants to make it clear that you can be open with them. They encourage you to fantasize because there's no harm in doing so as long as you are still grounded in reality. (Not that you can't manifest literally anything—which you can btw but anyways) Similar to reading books and diving you to be in another world and all that (they think). This also could be a message for you that visualizing might specifically be a good way for you to manifest.

Because your future spouse specifically wants you to be comfortable with being vulnerable with them, I also got the sense that they really take note of your boundaries. They don't want to come off pushy and intrusive that they may also seem a bit unsure with (how they are) comforting you. It could also be because they are trying to give you the chance to speak, and so their sentences (in the channeled messages) seem a little broken off from one another.

2 • Pile Two

"Hey why the long face? I know listening to sad songs feels good but if it isn't serving the purpose you want it to anymore, you could listen to something else. Maybe lofi? So there's no lyrics you know? Pfft. No but seriously though, it tends to be sad beats right?

You wanna cuddle? Alright.. *squeezes you tightly* *chuckles*

Hmm.. okay that's enough. I wouldn't want ya to be up 'til 4am again. *removes your headphones/earphones from your ears and puts away your phone/turns off your tv* I'm laying boundaries!1!1 You child !1!1 Yes you're a child in my eyes if you don't take good care of yourself so shut up.

Did you even drink water today? How about eat 3 meals? Then fine, we're ordering fast food. I'll pay."

You may be someone who doesn't have the best sleep schedule, and may have some self-destructive tendencies when things aren't going the greatest. I'm getting it could be TW!! overeating sometimes then not eating enough or at all, overworking is coming to mind as well, and maybe just watching or listening to sad/TW!! gorish music or films. Metal and punk.

It keeps coming to mind so lmao; you and your fs could also be sharing memes with one another. You may also look at dark memes when you're at this state, and probably have a folder/whole pinterest board for it. I'm getting that your fs might send you a little bit of those dark memes as well but it's not as dark and they definitely send it to you sparsely. They may not be as into it as you and they also think that you should refrain yourself from consuming those (too much) so they try to not encourage your behavior. Though, again because it gives you some comfort, they let you be while continuing to look after you.

3 • Pile Three

kinda nsfw

"*sees you with your eyes closed, lying down (on your bed) and proceeds to dim the lights* *turns off the tv, I'm seeing you listening to music on your laptop or phone as well but they keep it playing* *turns on your humidifier with I'm particularly getting lavender oil dropped into it*

Hey baby/love *softly pats you*, lie on your stomach and take your shirt off. I'll massage you.

Rough day at work/school/university (you may be at your dating stage here, but this can also still continue to happen once you're both married. "school" can also refer to you being a teacher) hm? *your back pops* Oof rough day indeed *giggles*.

Just let me make you feel good hmm? *focuses on massaging your lower back, does this thing where they have their fists closed and runs it from there to your upper back* Relax baby *proceeds to peck your shoulders and lays those kisses from your upper back to down your spine* *continues to massage you, I'm seeing them pressing their thumbs into your back and slide it up*

--kinda nsfw part!! skip if you'd like--

Turn over. *if you're a woman; massages then kisses your br*asts. Kisses & nips at your collarbones and lightly sucks your neck. Kisses straight down to your stomach then f*ngers you & predominantly slowly eats you out, I see them focusing more on licking and swirling their tongue on your cl*t. If you're a man; same thing with the neck part, but slides down their hand as they kiss down. And then does the equivalent of it; uses their hand and then gives you a bl*wjob.*

--end of nsfw part--

You feel better? Goodnight love(ly)"

Your fs may be more action-oriented with caring for you or it's just because they wouldn't want to bother with talking too much with you when you're already exhausted. They wouldn't want you to talk so much, and would just want you to let loose and relax. You may work as a medical professional, as a teacher, and/or possibly have been/will be working on getting your master's degree.

#pick a pile #pick a card #pick a pile reading #pick a card reading #pac reading #channeled messages reading #channeled messages #intuitive reading #free intuitive readings #tarot reading #divination #free tarot readings #pick a picture #tarotblr #free readings #fs reading #future spouse reading #future spouse readings #future spouse

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petertingle-yipyip · 2 years

Text

FINGERS CROSSED - MATT MURDOCK

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 4,370

Summary: An old friend comes back to town and when she nearly dies, Matt lets something slip (loud enough that his actual girlfriend hears it).

You had been up late, running over the notes Foggy gave you earlier. You had the papers sprawled over the floor of the bedroom while you were scribbling your own key points and questions. You weren’t sure if you were trying to piece something together so Matt wasn’t completely lost - if he ever showed up for the case - or if you were looking to find something that Foggy missed. Or maybe you just wanted something else to focus on other than Matt’s ridiculous secrecy as of late.

The case was counting on the medical examiner’s admission of falsifying the death certificates. And your friends got it, but under coercion. It was stricken from the record and your friends were left with nothing. Nothing but anger and resentment at each other, admittedly due to Matt’s secrecy and his new “private client” that he told not even you about.

And you didn’t blame Foggy. Matt had pissed you off with that as well. He was the one who insisted the firm take on the Castle case and yet he was missing for most of it. Lucky for your friends, you had free time to help.

“So glad I didn’t go to law school.” You muttered as you reached for one of the further stacks of papers. “This Punisher case is a mess…”

The door opened quickly but before you could welcome your boyfriend home, you heard the commotion. Stick was barking orders, Matt was moving in a hurry, and a girl was groaning in pain. You haphazardly bunched all your papers into the folder and took them with you to put on the coffee table. Coming out, you saw Elektra with a gruesome gash across her stomach and bleeding out on the couch.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, kneeling beside her. “Please don’t die on this couch.”

You didn’t dislike Elektra per say, but she wasn’t your favorite person. Not anymore at least. You two had been relatively close friends in college but her so-called mission with Matt drove you two apart. Since you always knew the truth about her, you couldn’t be around them a lot. It was too tempting to tell Matt the truth. But once Elektra left, you were the one who helped him get his schooling back on track and move forward. You never brought it up again because it simply wasn’t your story to tell.

“You could’ve told me you were running around with her, Matt.” You scolded as you pressed your palm to her stomach, a few inches about the deep slice. She whimpered as you applied the light pressure and you mumbled an honest apology.

“Really?” Matt scoffed, drawing a glare from you. “You want to do this now? She’s dying.”

“Why do you think I’m right here, dipshit?” You rolled your eyes and let your power work. “You forget she was my friend first.”

You focused on Elektra’s pain, reeling it in towards yourself. You liked to think of pain like a glow, a blazing white - sometimes red - warm glow within the body that shone like a beacon only to you. And once you found it, you pulled it into your own chest like you were reeling in a fish. It could easily dissipate in your body without you feeling a thing, so it gave you a rather effective bedside manner. There was also the other side to your power, the delivery of the pain that you absorbed from others. You could take that glow and target it towards someone else. Mimic the feel of a compound fracture in their leg, a snap in their ankle, their stomach twisting into literal knots, or even a constant building pressure behind their eyes - anything you could think of really. But the weaponized side of your power, you hadn’t used it in years since you left SHIELD.

“Bring her in here.” Stick called from the bedroom.

You were suddenly very glad that you had gotten the papers out of the room. Matt pushed past you and scooped up Elektra before carrying her into the bedroom. You huffed in annoyance as he turned his back to you but said nothing. You heard his gentle coos, assuring her that she’d be okay.

“You’d think she was his girlfriend.” You muttered with a roll of your eyes. You hoped Matt heard you, though you doubted he was paying a lot of attention to you. Instead, you turned your focus back to the case notes. You sorted through the papers and found the few that you were studying just minutes before.

“Y/L/N!” Stick called after a few seconds of silent chaos.

“What?” You returned, refusing to lift your eyes as you scanned the papers. The single syllable was sharper than you intended being that Stick wasn’t the one you irritated with but you didn’t care enough to retract it. It was relatively warranted, all things considered.

“Get your ass in here! This is gonna hurt like a bitch and she could use your help.”

“Of course, because God forbid-“ You complained as you pushed yourself to your feet and slammed your paper stack to the table. You didn’t know Stick that well but you knew he wasn’t going to let you say no. He was stubborn like that.

“Quit your bitching and get-“

“I’m coming!” You shouted angrily and entered the bedroom. You shoulder checked Matt on your way to the bedside and sat in the space beside Elektra.

“Y/N…” She said weakly, reaching for your hand.

“Shh.” You cut in and placed your hands over hers, finding the white glow almost instantly. “You can apologize after we fix your ass.”

She let out a strained chuckle before a sharp gasp when Stick poured the mixture over the slice. You felt the cold liquid splash your hand as he generously distributed it over the deep injury. He covered the wound with torn strips of sheet and claimed he was done.

“I’ll get the kit.” You offered, giving your friend one last look before slowly pulling your hand away.

Matt was quick to take your place beside her, causing a grind of your teeth. You pushed the anger aside while you went to the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinet until you found the small suture kit. You were bringing it back when Matt’s words stopped you at the door.

“Sweetie, stay with me.” He said gently. You stayed behind the glass of the door, just listening for a moment. “Stay with me.”

“Matthew…” Elektra said weakly. “I- I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He assured her. “It’s okay, just- Just stay.”

“I’ve known her to pull through worse.” You announced your arrival as you moved to the other side of the bed. You busied your hands with the kit, hoping to calm the subtle shake. You took a deep breath and once the pounding in your ears stopped, you turned back to Elektra.

Glancing at Matt, you saw he had her hand in his. He had his forehead leaning against their hands as he muttered a desperate, pleading prayer. Any other circumstance, you would’ve considered that sweet.

“Get out.” You said plainly as you swung a leg over her hips and leaned your weight back into her thighs.

“What?” He said quickly.

“Get. Out.” You emphasized. “You’ll only get in the way.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Y/N.”

“Stick?” You called, leaning down and began peeling the bloodied sheets back while you held the thread between your teeth to free your hands. “Get Matty out of here, please!”

“Y/N.” He grabbed your arm, knowing it would lead to a quick turn of your head.

“Your precious ‘private client’ will be fine.” You mocked. “It’s your girlfriend you need to be a little more careful with.”

“What?”

“Stick!”

“Come on.” Stick said from the doorway. Matt didn’t take his hand away, though you could feel the subtle movement of his thumb under your sleeve as he tried to read you.

Matt could feel the heat radiating off you, the anger that was coursing through your veins. Your heart was beating fast, blood pumping hard. He could practically feel the heat of your glare as well. It would be an understatement to say you were angry, but he wasn’t completely sure what pisesd you off so bad. Surely, it wasn’t as simple as Elektra getting hurt.

“Ellie’s a real fighter. And Y/N does a hell of a patch job. You should know that.” Stick added.

“What did you just say?” Matt said, hesitantly letting his hand leave your arm as he followed after Stick. “Did you just call her Ellie?”

“Y/N.” Elektra groaned as you began pressing the edge of the still bloody wound together. “I- I didn’t know… I didn’t know…”

“Didn’t know what, El?” You sighed.

Your anger had peaked and was now dissipating, and maybe that was just due to Matt being out of sight. Worry filled its place. Worry that Elektra was going to bleed out in Matt’s bed. That you’d lose one of the few friends who really understood you, your powers and the way you were raised. But also that Elektra held more of Matt’s heart than you or he realized. You had to push the last thought out of your head to focus on the task at hand.

You worked slowly, carefully threading the needle through her skin and muscles. All the while, you used the fingers that held the wound closed to absorb the pain into your body. You felt her pulse under your fingers and it was steady, strong, too stubborn to die.

That was the Elektra you were friends with, maybe even missed after all.

“That you were the girlfriend… I thought it was just the… The blonde from his office.”

“Karen wishes it were her.” You chuckled slightly. “I didn’t know you were back in town either so I guess we both were in the dark.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s…” You trailed off. “I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because I don’t know if I’m angry or upset right now. And I don’t know who to blame… Probably Matt.”

She laughed weakly.

“I wish you would’ve called me too. Matt’s not the only one who could’ve helped you.”

“I didn’t think- I figured you wouldn’t- wouldn’t want to hear from me again.”

“Of course I would, dumbass.” You shook your head fondly.

“I’m sorry… I should’ve-”

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” You assured her. “I just-“

“Did you always love him?”

“What?”

“It’s obvious.” She chuckled weakly. “You love him… Did you always?”

“No.” You said honestly. “I had a crush while you two were together, I’ll admit that. But I didn’t get real feelings until after you left and it was me and him… Y’know, you left me too that night.”

“I never meant to hurt either of you. But I had to go, to protect him…”

“I know. But it didn’t make it easier…” You snipped the end of the stitches before gently placing some gauze over it. You taped the ends before patting her side and climbing off. “Get some rest, okay?”

“Y/N/N?”

“Yeah?” You didn’t look up while you were cleaning up your things. There was a wave of nostalgia as she used that old nickname for you.

“You’re the only real friend I’ve ever had, save for Matthew…” That made your movements stop and a small smile made its way across your lips. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, you were my first real friend too.”

You grabbed the kit and left the room, gently closing the door behind you. You came out to Stick sitting on the sofa with a smug expression while Matt stood tensely between the two arm chairs. Clearly they had abruptly paused their tense conversation and there was no indication that they were going to continue it with you in the room. You tilted your head with a wide eyed expression, thinking ‘This is gonna be fun’, as you quietly walked to the kitchen.

You tossed the kit on the counter before washing the blood off your hands and pouring yourself a drink.

“You didn’t think that was important to share?” You asked finally, gesturing towards Elektra in the bedroom. Clearly no one else was going to break the tension. “Or were you just-“ You shrugged. “-trying to keep her to yourself?”

“What did you expect me to say?” Matt sighed.

“I don’t know.” You tilted your head back and forth as if you were thinking. “How about ‘Hey Y/N. Elektra is back in town and wants my help with something. She could use your help too’? It’s really not that hard to just communicate.”

“It’s not that simple either.”

“Right.” You threw back your drink. “Because it’s not like I could’ve helped you guys, right?”

“Y/N.”

“Because this.” You sent a quick jolt of pain towards Matt. Nothing extreme, just the sensation of a pinch on his arm. “Wouldn’t have been useful?”

“I couldn’t risk you getting hurt.”

“Oh my god.” You muttered in annoyance.

“Y/N, I’d never be able to forgive myself if I dragged you into something and you got hurt.”

“Mhmm… But she’s hurt. She’s hurt and you’re entire fucking world stopped, didn’t it?”

“It’s not like that.”

“But it is!”

“That's not what this is.”

“No, you wanna know what this is? This is Matt Murdock ditching his girlfriend and his friends and his job for her without a second thought. The case that you insisted on taking on is very quickly turning into a shit storm and where are you? Hmm? Running around with her all night! You’re ignoring Matt’s responsibilities and are only worried about Daredevil.”

“I- I know I’ve left you guys in the dark… A lot, lately. Alright?”

“Under statement of the fucking year, Matty.”

“I know that. But what me and her are dealing with, it’s something so much bigger.”

“Is it really more important than everything else in your life, hmm? More important than Foggy? Than me?”

He sighed and shook his head, putting his hands on his hips. He didn’t have an answer, not one you would like at least.

“Told you this would happen, Matty.” Stick added. “You can’t have it all.”

“I thought you liked me.” You turned in shock.

“You’re alright.” Stick waved you off.

“And you’re still a dick.” You looked back to Matt. “Answer me this then, Murdock. Do you still have feelings for her?”

He scoffed.

“Pretty simple now, isn’t it?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” You rolled your eyes. “I’ve been patient and steady with you through everything, but you’re not gonna wiggle out of this.”

“She seems serious.” Stick chimed in in amusement.

“Pick a side, old man.” You said firmly as you moved to stand behind the couch. “Do you or do you not have feelings for her, Matt?”

“No, I don’t. It was a long time ago. And I- I’m over it. I’m over her.”

You nodded slightly as you thought about his answer. It would’ve been easier to accept his answer. If it was a simple no, then why did he try to deflect the question? You moved suddenly, throwing your empty glass at the wall past Matt’s head. Stick chuckled as the glass shattered but Matt looked at you like you were crazy. The sudden movement shocked you as well, but luckily Matt couldn’t see that expression on your face.

“You think I don’t know when you’re lying?” You challenged. “I may not have super senses like you, but I don’t need them. You’re not necessarily a great liar.”

“Did you just-”

“Stay with me, sweetie.” You mocked and closed the distance between you two. Matt sighed inwardly as he finally realized his mistake. He hadn't even meant to call her that, hadn't even noticed when he did.

“Sweetie?” You shoved his chest. Matt let you take your anger out on him, accepting that he deserved it. He wouldn’t have been surprised if you had walked out right then.

“Sweetie?!” Another shove. “If you’re so over her, then why do you still hustle and wait on her like she’s queen of the goddamn world?”

“I- I didn’t-” He tried to explain, but he knew nothing he said would make up for it. He messed up big time. “It just slipped out, okay? I wasn’t thinking.”

You simply rolled your eyes and turned to leave. “I don’t have to put up with this.” You sighed.

“Where are you going?” He asked, reaching out and grabbing your wrist.

You could practically feel the desperation in his touch. He really didn’t want you to go, but he wouldn’t stop you. To Matt, you were everything. His sunshine on the gloomiest days, his warmth through any cold. You were his comfort, his home. And to you, Matt was all that and more, if possible. But your mind was so clouded with anger, jealousy, doubt, and hurt, that you couldn’t see anything other than that haze.

“Clearly you have other priorities. Don’t let me stand in your way.”

“Y/N.” He tried to pull you closer but let go when you yanked your wrist away. He felt something crack in his chest.

“Don’t.” You said firmly. “I’ve been the one at your side for years since she left. I’ve been the one who made you sure you were okay after everything. Every stupid fight and every cut, bump, and bruise. I was the one who was there to make sure it didn’t hurt and made sure to patch you up. I’ve kept your secret from everyone that you didn’t want to know and the minute - the minute - that she pops up in your life again, she’s your priority. It’s like she never left!”

“It isn’t like that!” He said suddenly, praying he could make things right. “You know that I love you.”

“I really wish you said that when you didn’t have your fingers crossed.” You scoffed and gathered all your papers again. You didn’t use your powers, but Matt suddenly felt like his heart was in a very tight vice. “All the hours spent giving advice on how to help you with all your bullshit.” You mumbled.

“Where are you going?” Matt asked sadly.

“I don’t know.” You said honestly. “Elektra should be fine so I don’t- I don’t think I need to stay. Not tonight at least..”

“Y/N…”

“I could say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” You shrugged. “You still have feelings for her and I’m not gonna sit here and play second fiddle to her. Not again.”

“Again?” He tilted his head in confusion.

“In college. You put her above everything, even your own degree. Matt, you can’t be that dense.”

“Don’t go.” He said quietly, damn near pleading. He knew if he said anything else, he wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears burning his eyes. “Please… Stay.”

“Alright, enough of this.” Stick announced and stood. He turned towards you. “You, sit down.”

“Bite me.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’ve told him a hundred times that these connections he insists on having will only end bad, but he still chose to keep you in his life.”

“Should I feel special?” You mocked.

“You should realize that for some stupid reason he cares about you.” Stick corrected. “He cares about you and he cares about Elektra.”

“It’s how much he cares about her that’s the problem.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing your jacket and phone on the way out the door. “But clearly neither of you are listening to me so I’m out of here.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” Stick groaned in annoyance.

“I hope you figure this out soon, Matt.” You called while you put your shoes on. “Because it’s going to be very awkward around the office if you don’t. And when she wakes up, let El know I’m not mad at her.”

“Y/N, please.. Don’t go. We can- We can talk this out. Just…”

“Goodnight, Matt.”

You headed down the stairs and took a seat about halfway down. You didn’t know where you were supposed to go. It was too late to knock on Karen or Foggy’s door. You left your wallet and your car keys in the bedroom, and you weren’t going to wander the streets aimlessly in the middle of the night. So, you camped out near one of the dim lights, put your headphones in, and went over the case notes again.

Reviewing each paper ten times over, you found nothing. There was no way, from your point of view, to win that damn case. Or maybe you were missing something. Maybe you just weren’t focusing or weren’t looking at the right things. Maybe that hallway was just too damn cold to focus. Regardless, your mind was clouded and heavy with everything that had happened that night. So you huffed in annoyance and dropped the papers on the step beside you.

“Pointless.” You sighed and wiped your face. How long had you been out there anyway? “Fucking. Pointless.”

You felt a poke to your shoulder and when you looked up, you saw Stick standing a few steps above you. You took out one headphone and sighed expectantly.

“So you’re really gonna walk out on him like that?” Stick scolded.

“I just needed space to think, I guess.” You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“He would burn down this whole city for you. His city.”

“Yeah… But what would he do for her?”

“Y’know, this pity party has been exhilarating but I think it’s time you get your ass up and knock this shit off.”

“I don’t need a lecture, alright?” You groaned. “This is between me and Matt so just… Fuck off.”

“Open your eyes, girl.” He rolled his eyes. It was clear Stick was tired of your incessant whining. And truthfully, you were growing tired of it too.

“Open my eyes?” You scoffed. What could he have picked up that you missed?

“Open your eyes.” He repeated and jabbed his finger against your forehead. “And it’s sad you need a blind man to tell you that.”

“What are you going on about?” You smacked his hand away.

“Did you not realize the boy was about to burst into tears when you threatened to leave?”

You thought for a moment, picturing Matt’s expressions as you challenged his devotion to you. He was upset, sure. But thinking back, he was close to tears. You had been so swept up in your own anger that you hadn’t paid attention, or you subconsciously chalked it up to being for Elektra.

“Fuck.” You sighed sadly. “How did I miss that?”

“You were too busy comparing yourself to Elektra.” He continued, ignoring your now fallen composure. “But you’re not Elektra. You’re Y/N.”

“And you’re still an old, blind jack-ass. What’s your point, Stick?”

“You and Matt have a different relationship than him and Elektra. You are exactly what he needs, especially now.”

“He’s always gonna love her, isn’t he?” You sighed in acceptance.

“Probably.” Stick shrugged. “But I can tell he loves you too, probably more. So just. Take it easy on him.”

“All I know is I can’t be pushed to the side because of her.” You said with a small shake of your head.

“So get off your ass and don’t let him push you aside.”

You hummed in agreement and thought for a moment. Elektra was the first girl Matt fell for. Of course she would hold a special place in his heart. And even Elektra said that she didn’t want to come between you and him. At the end of the day, Matt had your heart. And damn it all if that wasn’t worth fighting for.

“Thanks.” You said as you grabbed the folder and stood. “The old man has a heart after all.”

“Don’t go telling anyone.” He grumbled before continuing down the stairs.

You snuck back into the apartment and found Matt in the living room. He had put away his Daredevil suit and was sitting in one of the arm chairs, head leaning against the back and eyes closed. You realized very quickly why he angled himself so uncomfortably in the chair. He wanted to leave the couch available to you in case you came back that night. You couldn’t help but smile softly when it clicked in your head.

“My darling, Saint Matthew.” You said softly. You kicked off your shoes by the doors and shrugged your jacket off, hanging it on the hook above your shoes.

“Matty.” You said gently, shaking his shoulder. “Don’t sleep here, Matt. Lay on the couch, c’mon.”

“Y/N?” He muttered, sleep plain in his voice. He wasn’t fully asleep but he was knocking on the door. His hand came around yours and held tightly. “I thought you left.”

“I’m not gonna walk around this late by myself… Plus I got bored and cold.” You lied, causing him to chuckle. “C’mon, my love.”

“I’m sorry.” He let you take him by hand to pull him to the sofa.

You sat down first and turned to the side with a leg up, allowing Matt to lay between your legs with his head on your stomach. He liked to listen to your heartbeat before he fell asleep. Something about the steady rhythm was a deep comfort to him.

When he was close to you, he felt like nothing bad in the world could touch him. None of Daredevil’s problems could find him. No pain or danger or cruelty of the world could get close when you were there. None of that existed, just you and him.

He would always be grateful you chose him to love, and being worthy of that affection was all he could hope to be.

“Yeah, me too.” You nodded, running your fingers through his hair gently while he wrapped his arms around you. “I love you, Matty, so so much.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” He mumbled against your shirt and held you a little tighter. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.” You assured him sweetly. “We’ll talk more in the morning. Get some rest.”

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