#as I answered that question I thought about latch I admit it

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

Me: *holds 2 of clubs to my dome*

Me: you like thick women for breeding warriors

Him: is there any bad Wu-Tang?

Me: I did that on purpose

[megwritesriddles]

Tied to You ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Young! Severus Snape x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 14 - Praise & Bondage. Severus has a girlfriend and he's about as shocked as anyone about it. She brings something out in him, something loving, something experimental, but also something slightly more sinister.

Tags: Praise kink, Light bondage, Fingering, Dom!Severus, Lots of praise, Good girl, Reader is referred to as a girl a LOT, Established relationship (kinda?), Getting together, Fluff, Red flags, Possessive behaviour, Unhealthy/Toxic relationship dynamic forming, Ambiguous ending (kinda).

Word count: 3.6k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: I can't write Severus as anything other than at least a bit of a creepy little freak, even though this is mostly normal and fluffy!! Again this includes a lot of unnecessary backstory to set the scene!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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Being in a relationship was a very novel concept to Severus. It wasn’t something he’d ever really thought would happen to him until recently. Sure, he’d daydreamed about it throughout his life to various degrees, but he’d always resigned himself to the fact that daydreams would be the closest he would get. However, you were very real. He’d known of you since the first year, being in his same year group he was bound to have heard your name a few times, whether on registers or from overheard gossip at the Slytherin table. 

He’d never thought of you very much at all until the sixth year when you were in the same advanced potions class as him. The class was much smaller than in previous years, full of only the highest achievers in the subject in the O.W.L.s and this is where he noticed you. You were on the quieter side in class, but whenever you were called on, you gave the correct answers. You were obviously intelligent, especially at this subject, which intrigued him as a bit of a ‘swot’ as his few friends called him. He liked that you cared about studying, much more than most of your peers seemed to. It was also quite obvious even by a glance that you were a pretty girl. Once he’d started paying a little more attention to you, he’d overheard many unsavoury comments about you by his peers, about what they might like to do to you. But, you kept yourself to yourself, frequently kindly (but firmly) turning down boys who tried to flirt with you. He admired that you weren’t above a little threat against the boys who couldn’t hear the word ‘no’. Despite your withdrawn nature, you were well known as a member of the duelling club, a high achieving one at that, and so often were able to threaten the boys into backing off.

All sixth year he’d silently admired you. When the seventh year began, he told himself he’d let go of it and focus solely on his studies, but he’d never been less focused in his life. All the feelings he’d harboured for Lily for so long latched themselves onto you, becoming much larger and more consuming. They felt like a frightening entity on their own, following him around everywhere he went, trying to pounce on you whenever you’d make small talk with him before class in the corridor, or seek him out for advice on your potions homework, even though you always seemed to actually know what you were talking about. He should have realised something was odd about this, but he was too blinded by self-hatred to see the woods from the trees. So when you confessed to having feelings for him, he’d initially just sat and stared silently at you.

You’d caught him in the library, as you had taken to doing often lately and asked to sit. He’d agreed, expecting another odd question about the homework but instead, you’d sat there chewing your lip. His eyes had strayed down to the sight a few too many times, no matter how he tried to control himself. He watched as the corners of your lips tugged up a little. 

“I have a crush on you, Severus,” you’d admitted with a shaky breath. He’d just blinked at you. “Well… crush sounds so juvenile… I fancy you? I have… feelings for you?” you continued on. “I just figured I ought to say something before it’s too late, you know?”

And that’s how he’d ended up in a relationship with you. He was so shocked at the time that he can't even remember what he’d said to you in response, and it was too late to ask. Whatever it was, it had clearly worked, as you had pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek and the next weekend, he was waiting for you at the Three Broomsticks. By the end of that evening, you’d been sitting in his lap and kissing him with a passion he had never even seen, let alone felt for himself, his arms around your waist, touching you gingerly. 

The entire school was baffled by your relationship. His friends and even several strangers asked him how the hell he had managed to ensnare you and he had no answer for any of them even if he wanted to, he couldn’t understand it either. One day he believes he will never be in a relationship in his life, and the next, the most beautiful girl in all of Hogwarts is hanging off of his arm for all to see. He’s surprised how unashamed you are, not only to be dating him but with public displays of affection. You always hook your arm around his as you walk, kiss his cheek as a goodbye, sit in his lap in the library and sneak his hand up your thigh. Sex. That’s the part of all this that seems the craziest to him because all of a sudden he has an active sex life. You’re all over him, and as much as it makes his head spin, he’s always willing to indulge you. 

The first time you’d brought him into your dorm, he hadn’t known what was going on until you were stripping him down. Of course, you’d asked him several times if you could proceed, but he had just blindly agreed because he would let you do anything. He hadn’t told you he was a virgin until after you were done, even though he knew you knew, if from nothing else, from his very speedy performance. You’d been very sweet about it, as you were about everything, and snuggled up to him, falling asleep in his arms. No one had ever felt so safe around him before. He wanted desperately to keep you in his arms forever, and when you got up in the morning, he almost held you hostage but ended up playing it off as a joke. You’d just giggled at him and told him he’d be the cutest captor in the world, which he laughed off, but the thought crossed his mind.

He was having the most sex out of everyone in his dorm, which would have been completely unfathomable only a few months ago. It surprised him how voracious you were, you’d always seemed rather meek, yet you were dragging him away at least once a day if not more. It was a surprise that he loved. You’d created a monster, a monster that constantly loomed over his time with you. He wasn’t sure how he would ever cope if this relationship ended, not only emotionally, but also having gotten used to such frequent sexual activity. There was hardly anyone else who would ever be willing to indulge him, and you loved to, which made it a thousand times better. He felt desirable to you, a feeling he’d been inadvertently chasing his entire life. He was never going to let you go. Ever. 

You didn’t seem to realise how serious he was when he told you as such. You’d giggle and peck his cheeks and tell him in a sweet little voice that you’d never let him go either, but he knew you didn’t mean it quite like he did. You enjoyed his possessive streak, loving the way his arm would slip around you when a boy would stare, marking you all over as his. As baffling as it was to everyone, there was no confusion about the fact you were taken, constantly covered in little lovebites, his hands on you whenever they could be. He’d adjust your skirts and button up your tops, softly whispering how this skin was for his eyes only now. As he gained more confidence in public displays of affection with you, he’d grip your thigh in a possessive gesture under the table, and kiss at your neck in front of others, a reminder of who left those marks there. 

Severus was always up for anything that you recommended in the bedroom, surprisingly experimental despite his rigid routines during the day. You played around often, trying new things, different dynamics, different positions, and introducing various aids. As time went on, you could tell he was coming into himself as a more dominant presence, his initial nerves and shyness wearing off as he got used to you and the idea that you truly did like him and desired him. You were happy to submit to him and let yourself go with whatever he wanted from you. Every part of him was long and lithe and elegant, exploring parts of you that had never been touched before, deep within you. He loved to watch you come undone, taking immense satisfaction in the knowledge of his effects on you, effects he thought he’d never have on anyone. He worships you in the most sinful ways, and you worship him in return. Your roommates all hate the both of you, no matter how many silencing charms you cast. 

You’re a little anxious when Severus heads to Hogsmeade alone one weekend, no matter how much he insists he’s only buying you a present. You’ve barely been apart for more than classes since your relationship began, and while you doubt he’s off cheating on you, the distance still makes you unreasonably anxious. You pounce on him when he returns, telling him how much you missed him, not spotting his smug smile against your shoulder. He rubs your back and assures you he felt similarly while he was away, which he did, he’d been desperate to get back to you, for many reasons. He gives you a little box, housing a little silver necklace that he’d gone to fetch from Hogsmeade for you. It has a little ‘S’ as the pendant, his initial, another means with which to stake claim over you. He clasps it behind your neck and you’re all smiles as you declare how much you love it. Then you notice another little bag.

“Is that for your other girlfriend?” you joke, pouting a little. He laughs, kissing your cheek. 

“No, it’s for you my love, but we have to be alone for me to show you,” he guides you up to his dorm which is currently empty, most of his dormmates now avoid the space whenever they can because of the two of you. He brings you to his bed to sit in his lap and closes the curtains around you. You giggle, fascinated to see what he’s got, already making a few mental guesses. 

Although it hadn’t popped into your head as a guess, the small spool of rope makes sense as he pulls it from the bag. He explains that it’s a soft cotton material that is both sturdy and comfortable. He doesn’t have to tell you what it’s for, you already know, and you’re willing to give it a go, the idea already exciting you a little. He can tell from the way you begin to rub your thighs together slightly. He’s become fluent in your body language over the course of your relationship, by now he’s sure he could write the dictionary. He grins at you.

“So sweet already getting all excited,” he whispers, his voice deep and silky. You love the authoritative tone he uses to speak to you when he wants to be in charge like this, it makes your thighs clench even more. “Now come on, my love, how would you like your hands tied?” he enquires softly, rubbing a hand over your thigh. After a short period of deliberation between the two of you, he lies you down against the bed and starts slowly popping open the buttons of your shirt one by one, making his way down to untuck it from your skirt. He pushes the shirt open and down, palms smoothing over your bare shoulders. You sit up for a moment to let the shirt fall away completely and so that he can reach around you to unhook your bra more easily. Once he’s pulled the bra away from you, you lie back down. “Good girl, my beautiful girl,” he praises, gently folding your shirt up and placing it onto the ground, then setting your bra on top of it. He taps your hips, urging you to lift them, gently sliding down your skirt, followed by your underwear. His need for you is mounting, folding these items a little more haphazardly before he places them on the ground by the others. He gently holds your legs apart, rubbing a hand up and down your thighs. “You like the idea of being tied up for me?” he chuckles, seeing you already glistening with want. You nod and he hums. “Aren’t you just perfect? My perfect girl,” he coos, leaning down to pepper kisses on your stomach for a moment before sitting back up. You watch him eagerly, yearning for him to give you what you want. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists and lifts them over your head, reaching for the length of rope. “Is this alright? Your arms aren’t stretching too much?”

“No, it’s fine,” you assure, watching as he starts carefully threading the rope around your wrists in figure-eights. 

“I read up on how to do this, let’s hope I get it on the first try,” he smiles down at you. You giggle in return. He fusses for a little while, adjusting and readjusting so it’s not too tight, but that you can’t slip out of the restraints either. You’re sure he’s being a perfectionist about it like he is about most things, so you wait patiently. Once he’s happy, he sits back and looks at you, in all your naked glory, lying there tied up and waiting for him. He shivers and groans. “Merlin… You look like an angel, my beautiful perfect girl,” he leans down and leaves open-mouthed kisses along your neck, reinforcing several fading hickies he’s left on you before. You moan softly and squirm beneath him, pulling at your restraints without meaning to, feeling the need to touch him. You’re surprised how quickly you feel the need to use your hands and he just smirks at you. “Be good for me and don’t fight your restraints, won’t you?” he murmurs. You nod weakly, ceasing your movements and taking a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax as his lips and hands explore your body at a torturous pace. His lips kiss patterns around and between your breasts slowly, leaving a litany of little marks behind to mark his territory, his hands slowly sliding up and down your hips and waist. “Your body is absolutely exquisite, I don’t tell you that enough, my love, sculpted by the gods, all for me,” he mutters against your skin, sucking another lovebite into the side of your breast. The praise flusters you, part of you wants to argue, but you adore the idea of him truly seeing you that way, and you believe he does. He continues to press deliberate kisses across your chest, his eyes shut in prayer. His hands brush your stomach, teasing you by skimming low and withdrawing. You sigh needily and feel him nip your skin in response. “Tell me what you want,” he orders softly.

“I want your fingers inside me,” you answer breathily, writhing a little but making sure to keep your hands still. You feel him smile and nip the skin of your sternum, by your fluttering heart. 

“That’s my girl, always so direct,” he chuckles, sitting up and spreading your legs once more. He gasps softly. “Oh… you must really be liking being at my mercy, hm? Dripping wet for me,” he smiles, rubbing the soft skin of your inner thigh. His genuine smile is a rarity, he’s usually so stoic and serious, that the sight of it makes you whimper for him. Oh, how crazy he drives you. “Shhh, wait like a good girl, I know you can wait, you’re more than capable,” you pout up at him and he smiles again.“Those perfect pouty lips,” he leans down and gives you a soft sensual kiss, his fingertips tracing patterns up your thigh as he kisses you. You want to wrap your arms around him, to slide your hand in his trousers, but instead, you pull pathetically at your ropes for a moment before giving up and focusing on kissing him. His fingers nudge gently at your folds, making you spread your legs further eagerly. The tip of his index finger slides up and down between your folds, gathering wetness and using it to help circle your sensitive nub. You whine softly against his lips. “Good girl, you sound so beautiful when I make you feel good,” he praises. He leisurely slides a finger into you, which you accommodate easily due to your high state of arousal. His lithe fingers reach places you’d never even realised you’d had before your relationship with him, gently stimulating the tender spongy spot within you that makes your hips buck. He adds another finger, making you gasp and moan softly. He strokes your walls for a moment, letting you adjust to the stretch, which doesn’t take too long in the state you’re in. You stare up into his eyes, silently begging him to move his fingers, he grins back at you, his nose bumping yours affectionately. “What is it, my love?” you whine at his playful innocence, he gets like this sometimes, all smug and teasing, a monster that you had created.

“M-move them, please,” you pant, tugging uselessly at your restraints. He gives you a pointed look and you stop. 

“Okay, but you have to keep being good for me, I know you can,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, slowly withdrawing his fingers and pressing them back in. You mewl softly, digging your heels into the plush mattress. His fingers move slowly and expertly from months of memorising your body, pushing up against that tender spot with each thrust. The room fills with vulgar wet sounds and Severus finally thinks to cast a silencing spell with his free hand. You blush, both at the realisation you hadn’t been silenced, but also at the nonchalant way he does magic while moving his fingers inside you. It’s oddly hot and he feels you fluttering around his fingers. “What is it, sweet girl? What made you throb?” he enquires, kissing your jaw. You giggle breathlessly, his fingers still working you.

“Just you,”

“I’m flattered, my love,” he purrs. “You’re so perfect for me, aren’t you? My dream girl, my perfect girl,” he mumbles between kisses against your skin, his fingers speeding up, making you whimper and squirm. He sits up, his movements never ceasing, to look over you. Your hands tied sends a possessive thrill through him, the more innocent thought that you trust him like this, and the more dangerous idea to keep you like this. “Look at you,” he hums. “You look divine, all flushed and needy for me,” he punctuates his sentence by beginning to circle his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves. You choke out a moan, your eyes closing for a moment. “You’re doing so well, my love, good girl, you must be getting close,”

“Y-yeah,” you moan, your back arching slightly.

“You always look so beautiful when you come,” he muses, intensifying his movements. Your moans pick up, louder and more frequent, your hands tensing and untensing in the restraints, wishing to grab onto something but unable to do anything but dig your nails into your palms. “That’s it, let yourself go, be a good girl for me like I know you are,” he coaxes. “Let me feel you come on my fingers, let me feel your pussy clench,” you gasp at his lewd words, your head growing fuzzier. It only takes a few more moments and you fall apart, your whole body shivering and going warm. You cry out his name in desperation, nails digging into your palms, back arching up off of the bed. He keeps going relentlessly, feeling you clenching around his fingers, driving you to the point of near insanity, wailing in pleasure before he finally slows down his ministrations. “You were so good, my love, so beautiful, I’m so proud of you,” he leans down, kissing across your chest once more, slowly withdrawing his fingers. You whine softly, your chest heaving under his lips as you struggle to regain your breath, your heart pounding under your skin. “That’s it, calm down for me,” he soothes, kissing up to your mouth and pressing a lingering kiss to your parted lips. “How was that?”

“Yeah, good, very good,” you laugh breathlessly. He caresses your cheek, nuzzling your nose with his own.

“Did being tied up make it better?”

“In some ways, it felt more intense, more submissive than I usually am, but I did miss touching you,” you explain quietly. He nods along in understanding. “But I’ll happily do it again, I just need some recovery time,” you smile sheepishly, and he kisses your cheek. 

“I understand, my love, you’ve been a very good girl, no more tonight, my perfect girl must be tired,” he hums. He leans up and loosens your restraints, placing placating kisses on your wrists where the rope had been rubbing slightly, but he doesn’t entirely remove the rope, just gently massaging your wrists with his thumbs for a moment.

“Are you going to untie me?” you ask playfully. He pauses for a moment, thinking, before fiddling with the rope again. He secures your wrists to the headboard of his bed, making you furrow your brows in confusion. “You said no more tonight,”

“I know, my love, and I stick to it, but I think I’ll keep you here anyway,”

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xoxoxo

[petertingle-yipyip]

Question…? - Miguel O’hara

//the miguel brainrot brought this piece to life tbr. it’s kinda just for shits and giggles but there might be more. depends on how this one does//

Pairing: Miguel O’hara x Reader

Word Count: 3,868

Summary: The latest recruit to the Spider Society hits a bit too close to home for its head honcho. But with great power comes great persistence to get answers.

You landed on the roof of your building and pulled your mask up, wiping a hand down your slightly sweaty face. You looked at the bright display of the neon billboard across the alley and saw the breaking news story of your latest bust of the local Midnight Sons crime syndicate. You smirked slightly as you watched the reporter talk to the police who had to reluctantly admit that you, Arachne, had caught them. He tried to dance around it but the fact that your webs were covering the background made it obvious.

Just as you were about to head inside, you felt a tingle shoot down your spine. An unfamiliar yet not unwelcome sensation crawled across your skin so you quickly replaced your mask and spun around, web shooters ready. Instead of being greeted by a foe, you were greeted with a large and seemingly unstable orange circle that vaguely resembled a doorway.

Before you could say anything, you had to drop to your stomach as a motorbike came barreling through. You rolled to your back and flicked a quick burst from either wrist to latch a web to both tires. You kicked yourself back and pulled the bike with you, forcing its rider to disengage and land on the opposite side of the roof.

“Not bad.” She said, though her back was still to you as you stood slowly. “I knew you were quick, but I didn’t think you’d be that quick.”

“Right… And you are?” You asked carefully. You didn’t feel she was a threat, but something about the way she triggered that sixth sense made you tense. “I mean, you came at me full speed on a motorcycle so you owe me that.”

“Jessica Drew.” She turned to face you and the first thing you noticed was her belly. “And I’m just like you.”

“I’m not pregnant!” You decided quickly, a hand covering your stomach.

She laughed and shook her head. After a second, you hesitantly laughed with her. “I meant the Spider Woman thing.”

“Ah…” You nodded before slowly lifting your mask again. “That’s what I felt?”

“Mhmm..”

“I thought I was the only one.”

“Yes and no.” She moved towards her bike, which you hurried over to beside her. “If you’re interested, there’s someone I think you should meet.”

You followed her through the orange and ended up in a massive complex. There were dozens upon dozens of variations of… you.

A cat version. A monkey version. A dinosaur. A plushie. A cyborg. An avatar. A video game. Other girls, other guys. Any type of Spider variation you could imagine, it was there.

As you were taking it all in, you were hit with the sharpest pain you’d ever had in your life. It took over your entire body, felt as if you were being yanked apart and haphazardly put back together. Your insides felt rearranged and your head spun violently while everything seemed to be ignited. But the pain only lasted for a second.

Jessica told you it was your body glitching from being outside your own universe, which she also explained was granted the official title of Earth-3505. She slipped a blue band around your wrist and you felt every ounce of tension in your body disappear. She explained the device on her wrist, how it kept her from glitching while allowing for travel to any dimension.

You had to admit. All the tech and different universes blew every single theory and experiment you had ever known out of the water.

You were talking with Jessica through the long walk down a rather dark and drafty hall that led to a wide open work area. She called to the man on the platform, which began to lower at an agonizingly slow pace. Awkwardly, you rocked on your heels and fiddled with your web shooters, checking the cartridges and scratching away the dried remnants from your earlier endeavors. You tugged the neck of your suit and dusted imaginary dirt off before running fingers through your hair and giving it a small shake in an effort to look a bit more presentable.

When you heard the gears click into place you looked back and found yourself in utter shock, despite him not even facing you yet.

And as someone who would fight the Bloodstones, a werewolf, and the literal avatar of a god of the moon, it took a lot to render you speechless.

The man on the platform was massive. The width of his chest and shoulders alone was at least the size of a twin mattress. His height towered over yours and you could tell even from the distance he was at. His upper body narrowed ridiculously into his waist, though his legs were proportionately built as well. And covering that Hercules-esque physique was a fitted red and blue suit, just like everyone else you had seen in that building.

So why hadn’t he given you the same tingle Jessica did?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when an elbow came roughly into your ribs.

“What?” You asked quickly, an innocent obliviousness in your voice.

“Introduce yourself.” Jessica hissed.

“Right.” You nodded and took a hesitant step forward. “I’m Y/N, from Earth 35-something.”

“3505.” She whispered.

“Yeah, sorry. Anyways, I’m like you and her and everyone else here… Back home I’m called Arachne, like the.. The myth. I’m sorry, are you not gonna face me?”

“¿Mande?” He said sharply and the sound of his voice drove your pulse to jump.

“If you’re gonna have your back to me the whole time, why am I even here?” You pushed, though your resolve was slowly shattering as you watched him turn around.

The room may have been dimly lit but you could see what looked like a red tint to his eyes.

“Why are you here?” He asked tightly as he hopped off the platform and stalked closer to you. You swallowed hard and flattened your two middle fingers against your palm to feel the trigger for your webs. “Why are-“

His sentence cut off abruptly when he got a few feet away from you.

“Miguel?” Jessica asked from beside you. You had forgotten she was there but you felt a bit more relaxed to know you weren’t alone in that room. “What is it?”

“What did you say your name was?” He asked. His words were intended to be more gentle, more intimate maybe, but they still had enough of an edge to keep your fingers where they were.

“Y/N… And you’re..?”

His face fell at your uncertainty, though you doubted Jessica noticed. He recovered rather quickly, as if your words reminded him of something painful. Something he already knew.

“Miguel O’hara.” He stood a bit taller, if that was even possible.

“It’s nice to meet you… You built all of this?” You asked lamely in hopes to fill the silence that you felt would suffocate you if you ignored.

“Yeah.. It’s a way to preserve the multiverse. Everyone here was hand picked to serve a bigger cause, to protect each other’s universe and canons.”

“I assume that’ll get explained if I get in?” You turned to Jessica who nodded with a small, amused smile.

“¿Perdóname, si entras?” His head cocked as the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk that you felt was sarcastic. “No.”

“What?” You and Jessica asked at the same time.

“No.” He enunciated, hands at his waist and leaning forward.

“Why not?” You asked angrily, stepping forward with no regard to the size difference. “I can take anyone here!”

“Miguel, she’s really good.” Jessica tried earnestly. “I think you should give her a shot.”

“No.”

“C’mon.” She pressed.

“No.”

“What are you afraid of?” You challenged suddenly and the glare he shot your way made you hesitate.

“Afraid?” He laughed. “Afraid.. I’m not afraid.”

“Then what?”

“She looks just like her.” Miguel said, more to Jessica than you.

“Who?” She asked softly.

Miguel shot her a different look than the one he gave you. This one has more longing, more pain. You looked like someone he used to know. Likely someone he lost.

“Lyla.” Jessica said softly, waiting a moment for a hologram woman in a fur coat to appear at her shoulder. “Show Y/N around a little more, please.”

“Who- Oh.” The hologram spoke before disappearing and reappearing in front of you. She leaned in and lifted her heart shaped glasses before blinking away and reappearing up at Miguel’s side. A quick back and forth of hushed comments brought her back to you as she ushered you out of the room.

Lyla spoke quickly to you, bouncing around within your field of vision. She pointed out different Spider People, different villains. She showed you the machine that sent people home and the training center. While you were wandering the vast exercise area, you met two boys playfully roughhousing who seemed to create the golden retriever with black cat meets boys will be boys dynamic.

“Ooh! Who’s the new girl?” One of them ran up to you with a palpable excitement.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You smiled and the other one leaned in close.

“Look at that.” He said with a small smirk, seemingly changing color with each sentence. “Got little fangs and all. That’s mad.”

“Whaaaat? Let me see!” The first one pushed the taller one aside and replaced him, though he leaned in significantly closer.

“I’m guessing these aren’t normal for Spiderman.” You laughed and gently pushed him back. “What’re your names?”

“Hobie, Hobie Brown.” He offered you a short salute.

“Pavitr Prabhakar.” He gave an extravagant bow. “How long have you been a spider person?”

You blew out a sigh and tried to calculate the numbers. “A few years? It happened my senior year of high school, and then the two years there... And then.. All I know is its been a while. You guys?”

“Couple months.” Pavitr answered with a small hop. “It’s been so easy.”

“Three years.” Hobie answered simply. “And yeah, it’s not bad. Your universe a mess, then?”

“I think mine is a weird one based on what you guys have said.” You answered awkwardly. “Werewolves, swamp things, Egyptian gods, monster hunters.”

“Sounds like a fantasy book.” Hobie scoffed.

“That’s the Midnight Sons for you.” You shrugged. “There’s normal stuff too, like other vigilantes. Daredevil and Black Cat and the Widow.”

“Were they bitten by a spider too?” Pavitr added with wide eyes.

“Who, Widow? Not that I know of.”

“How’d you get the little-“ Hobie made a vague fang gesture. “You a vampire, too?”

“Well, no.” You rubbed a hand over your mouth, suddenly embarrassed of your teeth.

“You’ve got everything else. Figured you had the little blood suckers and allat.”

“There’s rumors of one guy but I haven’t met him.. Actually, the spider that bit me was a mix between the same thing that created my world’s Goblin and just the radioactive spider. It was supposed to be able to cure something but…” You shrugged.

“Do they do anything?” Pavitr asked, still looking at your mouth intently. He slowly reached a finger forward so you leaned away and gently pushed his hand to the side.

“Uh..” Your brows furrowed. “Idunno.” You mumbled as you shrugged.

“You’ve never tried to bite anyone?” He laughed and Hobie facepalmed gently. “I totally would’ve.”

“I’ll try it when I get home.” You laughed slightly. You glanced around and noticed the AI woman - Lyla - was nowhere to be seen. “Can I ask you guys something?”

“Go for it.” Hobie nodded and Pavitr’s head bounced up and down like a bobble head.

“The little AI, Lyla… Does she see everything?” You asked quietly.

“You trynna do somtin’ you shouldn’t, aye?” Hobie quirked a brow.

“I wanna try to talk to Miguel but I get the feeling that she’ll keep me away.”

“Why?” Pavitr whispered loudly,

“Cause he sent me away, said I looked too much like someone.”

“Oy, Pav.” Hobie nudged the smaller boy before leaning down and plotting quietly. They went back and forth for a few moments before looking back at you. “Make it quick, yeah?”

“I owe you.” You grinned.

Pavitr and Hobie shared a small fist bump before Pavitr reached his fist towards you. You chuckled slightly and returned the gesture before the two ran off. It was only a few moments before sprinklers went off in the room. Lyla popped in and out of view, speaking rapidly and tapping small screens in front of her. She appeared in front of you, disheveled glasses and jacket hanging from her shoulders.

“Do. Not. Move.” She said firmly and you held hands up in surrender. She pointed two fingers at her eyes before pointing to you, gesturing up and down your body before disappearing again.

You leaned around slightly to ensure her digital frame was nowhere to be seen before you booked it out of the room. Your wet feet slipped on the sleek tiles so you opted to swing across the complex and back to Miguel’s workspace.

You wiped a damp hand across your face as you entered the hall again before you pulled yourself to the ceiling and crawled down the long corridor. Jessica left in a huff, muttering that he was unreasonable and that she wasn’t done. You watched her freeze and turn around, squinting her eyes in suspicion. You stayed still above her in hopes that she wouldn’t find you but with the water subtly dripping from your suit and hair, you thought you were caught. With a small smirk, she turned back and left.

You blew out a small sigh and continued down your path until you reentered Miguel’s wide open room. His back was towards the entrance as he vigorously typed and swiped various projections away. He was muttering to himself, broken Spanglish as he worked in that increasingly frazzled state. His head cocked over his shoulder as you clung to the space above the door.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?” He asked tightly, unable to face you fully. “And why are you wet?”

“I just…” You spoke, realizing you had no idea how to start. “May like some explanations.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.” He spoke simply, clearly trying to shut down the conversation.

“Okay, but… What if I just ask some general questions that have simple answers? Is that okay? I mean, can I ask you a question? Well a couple, but you know what I mean.”

“Can you please stop, just for a second?“ He sighed and pressed his palms against the table. You pursed your lips slightly and drummed your fingers against the wall while you waited for him to say something. “You don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, do you?”

“I don’t usually have to beg like this.” You confessed. You shifted your feet and leaned your shoulders against the wall behind you, allowing your hands to aim webs at the edge of his platform. You pulled yourself over and stood in front of him. “Miguel, please…”

“Ay, dios mío. You sound just like her, too.” He spoke to himself, though the desperation in his voice was hard to miss.

“Listen, if you don’t want me here because whoever I remind you of, that’s not good enough of a reason.” You insisted. Your words finally got him to turn and face you, which really drove home just how big he was. You gave a nervous chuckle and crossed your arms in an attempt of defiance. “I can prove myself against anyone here. I know I can do this!”

“It’s not about whether you’re-“ He began before he leaned down closer. You pulled back and teetered the edge of the platform. “What was that?”

“You got a little close.” You defended with a shrug.

“Not that, cariño.” He shook his head. “Open your mouth.”

“Okay!” You said loudly, trying to push him by his chest. “That’s not how you- Ugh! Whatthehellare-“

Your words became an incomprehensible jumble of syllables when his hand came to your face, fingers pressing gently on your cheeks to keep your lips apart. His pointer finger was free to manipulate your upper lip, exposing one side of your mouth. With a satisfied smirk, he let you go.

“Thought so..” He offered a lazy smirk. “Lemme see your hands.”

“Is this like.. part of the initiation process or something?” You tried to joke as you held up one hand. He took it by your wrist and gave your palm a gentle prod, just missing the trigger for your web shooter. “What are you looking for?”

“You always talk this much?” He mumbled with a small eye roll as he let go of your hand.

“It’s just a question.” You muttered and poured slightly.

He sat back on the edge of a table behind him, allowing for a more even eye line. But even at the new lowered height, he was definitely taller than you.

“How can anyone focus around you?” He said with a shake of his head.

“I can put the mask on, if it helps.” You offered awkwardly, reaching for the side pouch you usually tucked it away in.

Miguel looked back at you and laughed. A seemingly genuine sound that, up until that moment, you weren’t entirely sure was possible.

You took the opportunity to move away from the edge of the platform and stand more in front of him. Your hands rested lazily behind you and you simply looked at him for a minute.

The obvious physical stature was still as intimidating as ever but there was something in his expression. Something haunted, something guilty. However, when his eyes met yours, there was a softness there. A certain longing.

How does anyone focus around you? You thought as you took in his features for a little longer.

“You always stare like that when you’re not talking?” His brows raised with a slight smile as his arms crossed over his chest.

“Not usually.” You answered with a shrug of one shoulder in an attempt to ignore the blush creeping across your cheeks. “I take it you didn’t find what you were looking for with my hand, but you didn’t send me away again so maybe that was a good thing… Maybe I can…”

“Go ahead and ask your questions.” He nodded, adding a tired sigh at the end as if to say he was giving in. You thought he was curious as to what you wanted to know.

“What’s the big deal about my teeth?”

“Your teeth..” He chuckled slightly. “Most of the spiders around here don’t have fangs, cariño.”

“Right but why do you care?”

“Cause I have them too.”

“What do yours do?”

“Paralysis. Yours?”

“Dunno.” You confessed. “I’ve never bit anyone. Can I see?”

“No.”

“C’mon!”

“No.”

“Fine.”

You flicked a web at his chest and yanked him to lean forward, earning a small Spanish exclamation from him. You kept hold of the web with one hand and put the other on his shoulder as you leaned in slightly. His eyes darted between yours in slight shock before he broke into a small smile, enough for you to see a moderately more pronounced version of the same teeth in your mouth.

“Woah.” You said quietly as your eyes drifted to where your webs met his suit. “Wait..”

“What is it?” He asked lowly and the tone sent a shiver down your spine.

“Your suit. It’s all tech?”

“Mhmm.”

“That’s so cool.” You breathed with a smile, which faded as you squinted and noticed a falter in the colors. “It’s like a projection, which means if I…” You gave another slight tug on your web and watched the distortion of the colors where your palm was pressed against him. You laughed slightly before looking back at Miguel.

The web suddenly snapped and you stumbled backwards. You looked down and saw the excess still wrapped around your wrist. The tensile strength was much stronger than that so it shouldn’t have betrayed you so suddenly. It had never failed before. Turning your head back to Miguel, you saw the projections from the pads of his fingers.

“You were looking for claws?” Your brows raised as your head jerked towards his hand. “You could’ve asked.”

He simply shrugged.

“Let me ask you something…” He said calmly as he leaned back to his originally sitting position. “Why do you wanna be here so bad?”

“Good girl.” You gestured to yourself. “Sad boy.” You gestured to him and he shook his head with a scoff. You offered a small smile before wandering in a small circle, your back now to Miguel. “We all have this one thing going on.. And it’s always one thing after another, situations and circumstances and miscommunications. Losing people and losing fights, it’s all part of the job but… Honestly, I don’t know why. Maybe I just like the idea of not being alone, of not being the only one.”

You turned back to face him and saw he hadn’t looked away.

“It’d be nice to not be the only one with fangs, either.” You smiled, flashing your pointed teeth.

“You never told me why you’re wet.” He commented after a brief moment of silence.

“Oh.” You laughed nervously. “Funny story.”

You heard the muttered complaints come down the hall at the same time the tingle of another spider person hit your skin. Your eyes went wide when Lyla popped up in front of you, glaring at you with tightly crossed arms. You offered an innocent smile with hands up in surrender.

“Y/N!” Pavitr yelled with a wide grin as he entered the room, Hobie sulking behind him. The boy turned and began patting his friend’s shoulder excitedly. “It worked!”

“What worked?” Miguel turned to you.

“Those two-“ Lyla said angrily as she appeared in front of Miguel and pointed at the two spidermen. “-set of a fire alarm in the training center.”

“And that was your idea?” He looked to you again.

“Nah, mate.” Hobie answered casually. “Was all me.”

“You?” He shouted and then wiped a hand down his face. “I don’t- I can’t deal with you right now. Both of you, go help mop up and dry the training center. Just- Get out of my sight.”

Hobie offered you a salute before sauntering out, Pavitr quick on his heels. You smiled to yourself before you hopped off the platform, shooting a quick web to help control your descent.

“Where are you going?” Miguel called after you, causing your stride to pause. You spun to face him with a playful smile.

“To help clean up.. They did it so I could talk to you, after all.” You shrugged.

“Come back here when you’re done.” He tossed a device your way, the same device the other spiders had around their wrists.

“Gonna miss me already?” You teased as you fit it to your wrist, replacing the temporary band you were given.

“Always, cariño.”

You realized you hadn’t found out anything in regards to who you looked like from Miguel’s past, but with the confirmation that you’d come back, you figured you’d find out in time.

[shirefantasies]

the fellowship and how they would comfort you after a nightmare

Sure thing! This is such a cute idea I love it 🥺 no detail is given about the nature of the nightmare, so it’s pretty fluffy & open to interpretation 🥰

How The Fellowship Comforts You After a Nightmare

Aragorn

A pair of hands catch you about the waist. “Careful, beloved, you almost fell,” a deep voice whispers. Aragorn. You start despite the comforting voice, and he notices. Fixing you with a look of concern, he nods encouragingly, letting you speak; you tell him it was a nightmare. “What happened?” He asks, and he listens with great interest as you describe what you saw, what your mind forced you to experience. “The night can be false,” he tells you, moving so close you can feel his breath upon your ear, “bringing forth our greatest fears. But I am here with you in its darkness.” Nodding, you give a small smile as he takes your hands. “Come here,” he beckons, and acquiescing he tucks you into him, your back against his chest and his arm draped over you protectively.

Legolas

“Come." You hear Legolas before you see him, feel the way he reaches for you. Fingers intertwine with yours and shakily you reciprocate the grip. He raises you gently to a seated position, holding you lightly about the waist as you rotate in tandem. You’re facing the window, you realize, looking out into the night. “The stars,” Legolas breathes, “ever have they provided us with hope and comfort. They are looking out for us.” Mystic as his words are, you cannot help but admit that focusing on the distant, twinkling lights is calming, especially in Legolas’s arms. Silently, you nod. Legolas peers down at you thoughtfully before speaking again, pointing out stars and constellations until you are lulled into a much more peaceful sleep.

Boromir

A tear slides down your cheek, but before the lines to reality are fully crossed you feel a hand caress you, wipe the droplet gently. “What ever is the matter?” A voice you would recognize anywhere: Boromir. Before you can speak you’re latching onto him. Stroking the crown of your head, he questions again, this time asking if you are all right. “I will be,” you answer shakily. His lips fall to yours, firmly but with a sense of care, of loving. “Good. You have me until then, and, I’m afraid, long after that, too,” he jokes, pulling you closer. “That means more than you could ever know,” you mutter, nuzzling into his neck and giving in when he shifts to his back, your body draped over his like a warm blanket.

Gimli

Gasping and shooting upward, you are met with a shout that has you exclaiming as well, heart thundering in your chest. Suddenly, looking as though he’s been slapped, Gimli reaches for your hand, taking it in both of his. “Whatever is the matter, my jewel?” You cannot help cracking a feeble smile at his words of endearment even through the involuntary terror you’d awoken to. You apologize, tell him a nightmare had taken you. “Not if I have anything to say about it!” Gimli retorts. “Does it realize who it is up against?” Cue your beloved dwarf highlighting every amazing thing about you, from your beauty to your fighting spirit to simply poetry, all the wonderful things in this world you remind him of. “So if some dream thinks it can take you, it is sorely mistaken,” he concludes, looking satisfied at the upward tug of your lips, the bashful way your head falls against his chest.

Frodo

Stirs with immediate knowledge and understanding of what you are going through, having experienced it many times himself. No words are necessary, only the small, sad nod you share. Frodo's hand immediately trails up and down your arm, spreading grounding warmth across your skin. Your head falls back against his chest in defeat and with a deep breath, he pulls you flush against him, lips pressing against the crown of your head. Frodo never demands words, but listens with deep thoughtfulness if you wish to volunteer them and even shares any similarities in his so you know you are not alone. Especially if any of them embody your worst intrusive thoughts, the hardest things to share aloud. He only feels comfortable sharing the events of his own nightmares because of this dark bond you share, but seeing your face and feeling the caress of your hand upon his cheek is all it takes to cast a light back into his eyes, one that sparks the same for you.

Sam

Sam’s hold upon you is the first awareness you achieve as you are thrust back into reality, your eyelashes fluttering as you make out his form. The moment tension fades from your body, he’s pulling you into him, rocking you gently and running his hand through or over your hair. “Sam, I’m sorry -” “Shhh,” he soothes, smiling gently, almost tearfully, “there’s no need. There’s no need at all. Let’s just stay here.” At your nod, he rests his chin atop your head and tucks your bodies as close into each other as possible, limbs fitting together like puzzle pieces. The last sensation you remember before drifting off to sleep is Sam’s lips lightly pressed against your cheek.

Merry

A gasp alerts Merry to your plight, sending him shooting up into a seated position, looking around the room with concern before his eyes fall sympathetically to you. “Bad dream?” His voice is quiet, hoarse from lack of use. You just nod. “Well that won’t do,” he shoots back, sitting up further and extending a hand. Shakily you take it and are pulled up at his side, an arm slung around your shoulders. “In the Brandybuck household, bad dreams mean storytime,” he tells you with a growing smile, “so your choice. Family legend or embarrassing Pippin story?” You feel your lips curling upward, visions of your nightmare already fading. “Embarrassing Pippin story.” “Great choice! So this one time…well, we’d had one too many tankards, I’ll confess, but I was well until Pippin…”

Pippin

Does not wake up at your first stirring, but as you shift you feel his body move alongside you, turning to face your way. “Are you all right?" He whispers when you fall into his gaze, distress clear upon your face that you both feel and see mirrored in his. “Nightmare,” is all you have to whisper before you’re wrapped up completely in Pippin’s embrace, his legs tangling with yours as his arms wind around you. A smile breaks through on your face when you feel him nuzzle into you with his nose, leading you to snuggle in closer against his soft curls. “I’m always going to be here for you,” you hear him whisper, feel his warm breath as he speaks, “always.”

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

[mae-gi-writes]

everything that i'll never be | kim mingyu . seventeen

You'll never be his first and that bothers you, that she had his heart before you ever did.

genre: angst, relationship problems, insecure! reader. Mentions of self-harm.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

She's so much better than you. In so many ways.

There's no way you can compete. You're not even competition to her. Come on, it's almost as if trying to compare a Ferrari to a stupidly tiny honda that would break down whenever it had to breach the motorway.

This is how envious you are of the girl that once had your boyfriend's heart.

And you hate yourself for it, because every argument that arises is because of that sole reason; you can't stand the thought of her having him first. You can't stand the thought that Mingyu had the opportunity, all his firsts, with a girl that was someone other than you.

Which is why the words suddenly fly out of your mouth one day without warning.

"How was she like? Your ex?"

The words sound raw and painful, even coming from your mouth. You hate it. You hate yourself the most at this particular moment. Even more so when Mingyu stops in mid-action and blinks at you like you've just told him you'd committed a first-degree murder.

It's not that it's surprising. It's just that-- more so -- it's been six years. Six years already, and you still haven't gotten over it. So there is, ultimately, a problem. With you.

Mingyu lowers the knife he's been using to chop the carrots into tiny thin slices. He suggested bringing duck to your annual family dinner this Christmas, which you thought was a good idea, until you realized the amount of preparation that came along with it.

So here you are, on a beautiful 24th December night with the snow falling like soft petals along the sky line, making sure that the duck that you've put into the oven a few minutes ago isn't roasting itself to death.

"Why are you asking now?" is Mingyu's question.

You shrug half-heartedly in an attempt to show him that it isn't that much of a big deal whether he answers your question or not. Though it is, as you keep your eyes trailed on the timer on your phone, "I had a nightmare," you admit.

"About?" his eyebrow raises a fraction, body stilling to await your answer.

You struggle to find something coherent, put together, that doesn't sound so lame once you say it out loud because god forbid it is the most childish thing to think of when it's been six years of your relationship.

And yet, she's still the gap, that empty space, that lingers between the two of you like the unsaid corpse filling the room.

"About you," you pause, "and her."

Mingyu lets out a soft breath, "Y/N, we can't be having this conversation six years down the line. I love you, and I'm with you--"

"I know that." he doesn't have to talk to you like you're a child.

"Then why are you still on about her when clearly you're the one I've chosen to be with for the rest of my life?" the hurt in his voice is real and it makes your heart ache with guilt. You shouldn't have asked him anything in the first place. You know, more than anyone, that Mingyu would steal the moon for you had you asked for it. It's undoubtable, the love that he bears for you, the way his eyes find yours across the room like you're the sun that makes his earth rotate.

He continues now, pent-up frustration laced in his alto. Almost like he's about to cry, "it hurts me too, to hear you talk about her over and over again. It gets tiring after a while, Y/N. I'm tired of it, honestly."

"Alright," tears prick at your eyelids but you refuse to blink, gaze permanently latched onto the oven as you fight against the flood of emotion building in the pit of your stomach, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you anything, but--"

"it's not doing you any good either. So why do you do this to yourself? What triggered it?" he's on a roll now, not caring what you have scrambled for an answer, the need to hear your reason a priority in comparison to the millions of excuses you have stacked up against your tongue, "because this isn't about just the nightmare, is it? You've mentioned her at least once during these two weeks and I--I'm tired of it, Y/N. I don't want to keep going through that. She's a part of my past and yes, we were in love once. But I don't love her anymore. You're the one I chose to be with," he holds up the peeler and the carrot in evidence, "isn't that exactly what I'm doing right now? Why do you have to ruin this for us?"

"I--" his speech hits you like a truck. You hadn't expected Mingyu to just spit out his feelings without filter or remorse, which makes it even worse as you try to struggle and comprehend what his words mean exactly. The ache in your chest grows. For a moment, you can't breath, the soft pants stinging the back of your throat as it burns with effort of restraining tears.

You swallow thickly, harsh gulps of air that makes you shudder. Finally, you manage to whisper out a soft, "I'm sorry, Mingyu. I shouldn't-- I shouldn't have bought this up. You're right. I'm just--I'm just a walking time bomb and I'm pathetic--" you shake your head, the tears now spilling down your cheeks as you bite down onto your lower lip. You catch sight of Mingyu's stance faltering ever so slightly, but you move back, as if the physical distance might help you keep your broken heart in check, '--I'm really sorry, Mingyu."

You don't wait for him to answer before you're swiveling on your feet and dashing through the open doorway of your bathroom. It's not much, but it's enough physical space for you to lock the door and slide down onto the floor.

You let the sobs take over, your shoulders hunching over your knees as you start crying. Once you do, you can't stop. You can't.

Because the truth is, you're scared.

You're scared that you'll never be enough for Mingyu and that -- whatever happened in the ktichen -- is the exact proof of that. You're not her. She's --gentle and kind and just agrees to everything that Mingyu ays without putting up a fight. And they made a cute couple, and she's prettier. Prettier than you'll ever be and you wonder what Mingyu even saw in you in the first place.

And she's his first. Will always be his first. Something that you'll never be, no matter how hard you try.

You're so focused on feeling your body shatter with tears and pain and guilt from the past that you don't hear Mingyu's voice until he starts knocking against the door.

"Please," he murmurs, "can we just talk?"

"I'm fine," you blubber out, "please just leave me alone. I really don't want to talk about this right now."

"Y/N, I didn't mean to hurt you, what I meant was--"

"I know already, Mingyu. Just stop." you sniffle and wipe your snot with the back of your hand, "I got it. It's me. I'm the problem. I'll always be the problem."

"That's not what I said, don't put words in my mouth--"

"Just leave me alone." And as if that might help, you whisper, "please." So he does. you hear his footsteps retract after a few beats of agonizing silence, and when he does walk away, you slump back into a small puddle of broken pieces of your heart as you try to hold it all together.

But it's not a memory that you can erase with just a few beers or some good sleep. It's a stain that will last forever, and you're not quite sure how you'll deal with that.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Hey Y/N?"

Your head rises from the slump of your arms. You're not quite sure how long you've been in the bathroom.

Mingyu knocks. You let out a sigh, but don't say anything. Nothing feels right at the moment, no words can seem to fill the empty, now awkward space between you and Mingyu.

"Y/N, I can leave you alone if you want," he pauses, "but...do you mind if I use the bathroom? I kinda...need to pee."

Fuck. Of course. Just when you're about to lose your mind and go on an existential crisis.

You unlock the bathroom after a beat of silence, not even bothering to look up at his face as you sidestep your boyfriend and make your way to the couch. You plop down onto it, hearing the sound of the door shut close as you find your usual navy blanket. It's warm and comforting, wrapping you up in its warmth as the toilet flushes, Mingyu's coughs reaching the living room area. The scent of roasted duck fills the room and you sniff appreciatively. Despite it all, it seems that the food has survived, a proof that no matter how much humans may suffer, they could still go about and do their things right.

"Y/N."

You jump slightly, turning your head in his direction but allowing your eyes to stray along his shirt. The silence answers in your stead.

"How are you feeling?"

You shrug once more. How are you even supposed to feel?

It's a weird contortion of things that make you want to hurl the living room chair at the tv and one that makes you want to curl up in bed and cry and cry and cry.

The couch dips under Mingyu's weight once he joins you on the couch. Still, you don't look at him, rather deciding that picking on your nails is a better option.

"Y/N," he says once more, before his big hand is reaching for yours and stopping your actions with a gentle grip, "don't do that. You're going to hurt yourself."

"That's the whole point," you mutter to yourself, though it's not quiet enough that he doesn't pick on it.

He squeezes your hand in response, "we talked about this before, didn't we? The nervous hand-picking."

"Can you just--" your voice raises, as if in a holler, only to die mid-way up your throat. You slump against the couch. You're tired and overwhelmed, and it shows.

The silence seems to stretch out before you, with only the slow hum of the fridge keeping you company as you keep on staring at the blank tv screen. How have you come to this? How are you fighting about someone that isn't even in the picture anymore?

Ah yes, because you decided to re-open that door and let yourself wonder, picture, your boyfriend with the likes of her when you know it's only going to induce more pain.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, or how to feel,” Mingyu starts, his voice shattering the silence like glass. “But just so that you know, every time you talk about this — about her — it hurts me too, because she’s not my present and I’m not in love with her, not anymore. You talking about it makes me uncomfortable,” he peers over at your face, “do you understand that, Y/N?” He says it gently, all his words without bite.

“Then maybe if you had just talked it through with me without avoiding my questions all the time, maybe we wouldn’t be here,” you shoot back, “maybe you like to take the easy way out a little too much.”

“I did give you the chance to talk about it. Remember that night when I told you to ask me anything about her that you wanted to know about?”

Another onset of tears builds at the back of your throat. Why is he doing this to you? What have you ever done to deserve this?

You turn away from him almost instinctively. This time, Mingyu lets you do your thing, not even bothering to try and call your name and honestly, you don’t mind. You need some space to cry it out and be with yourself for a little while.

There’s so much you want to tell him: why did he even break up with her in the first place? Why did he choose you instead? Would things have been different if you hadn’t told him of your feelings?

Would you have been happier right now, if you’d never been together?

ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s been a few days and you feel like a corpse.

Your life is a walking nightmare, your mind plagued by nothing but the pain of realizing you’re a second option to your boyfriend. You wish that he could walk in your shoes, only to get a glimpse of what’s going on inside your head. In any case, life feels dull and void of colour in contrast to the lights blazing across the streets to celebrate the new year’s coming up.

Mingyu doesn’t offer to talk it through and you take it as his way of telling you he’s not interested in your bullshit. So wrapping yourself up in your thickest blanket, you barely leave the flat on the days to come, if only for groceries. After all, you don’t see the point when your world is crumbling.

It’s on a Wednesday afternoon that Mingyu sends you a text while he’s at work. You receive it in mid-workout, frowning slightly as the message pops up on the screen.

Mingyu: do you have time this afternoon? Can we talk?

You type back your reply with a mere “yes” before resuming your squats with even more conviction. You decide that you have to brace yourself for anything that might happen, considering that you really did fuck up this time.

Will your heart be able to take it if he tells you to break it off?

All thoughts and memories of what would be your wedding, the concepts you’d conjured, the white dress that you’d fantasized over. All those things seem awash with the pain of knowing that maybe this won’t become a reality.

That hurts.

The afternoon crawls by at a snail’s pace and you spend it lumbering back and forth across the hallway as your brain tricks you into concocting all possible scenarios that might unfold; you and Mingyu breaking up is at the forefront of your mind, no matter how much you try to steer yourself away from it.

The door creaks open to signal Mingyu’s arrival. You freeze, fingers finding purchase onto your shirt as you grip its corners, panic suddenly overwhelming your senses.

He’s here, and he hasn’t greeted you yet.

You’re not sure how your heart will take it.

“Y/N?”

The scuff of his boots squeak against the silence of the corridor as he pulls them off. Small a small gesture, which holds so much meaning once you realize you might never hear it again.

You force out a reply, “yes?”

A few moments later, your boyfriend appears looking disheveled and, to your surprise, holding a bouquet of roses.

“Sorry if they’re a bit wimpy,” he says sheepishly while handing the flowers over, and you hope he hasn’t taken note of how your hands are trembling, “I was late to pick them up from the florist’s.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes. You looked up at him, eyelashes glimmering as your vision slowly blurred, “why?” You murmured.

“Because,” he shrugs then, a small gentle smile making its way to his face, “I know you’ve been going through a rough patch, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be taken care of.”

You couldn’t help it.

You burst into tears.

And Mingyu holds on to you as you sob and soband keep on sobbing. All the pain, the fear of losing him, the thought of never being enough… all of these mesh into you and cras through your body in waves that rocks your entire ecosystem. Mingyu is there through it all, murmuring soft encouraging words as he rocks you back and forth against his chest.

The crying stops at some point, leaving you numb and tired, a slumped figure that leans against your boyfriend while he’s gently pawing away at the caked tears along your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur out, breaths shaking from emotion.

But Mingyu shakes his head, “it’s okay.”

“It’s not—okay, and I shouldn’t have acted this way,” you whisper out, “and I’m sorry if I keep pestering you about her but the truth is, I’m scared I might never be enough for you, Mingyu, because I’m not. You—You deserve everything.”

Mingyu stays silent, still brushing the tears away as you wait for his answer. He finally turns you to him, holds you close in his lap so that there’s no chance of escape even if you wanted to.

In his dark eyes tou see your reflection; a disheveled maniac looking like she’s been haunted for days.

Mingyu probably thinks so too.

“I understand,” he starts off softly, “how hard it is for you to imagine me with other people, it sucks. And it’s not great, especially when you know these people.”

Your chest aches, another pang of hurt ringing through your heart at the mention of her. You suck in a breath, but he continues:

“But I think otherwise. I think she made me realize that maybe, she’s not what I want, nor what I need,” something softens in his eyes then, hands squeezing your waist, “what I need is right here, and nowhere else, Y/N. So you can cry about not being the first, but trust me, I want to make you my last.”

Another sob racks its way up your throat. You blink furiously, hands finding purchase onto your sweater sleeves to bunch it up nervously, “do you—“ you stammer out the words, “do you mean that?”

Mingyu nods, the softest of smiles on his face, as your hands come up to wrap around his neck.

“You’re sure sure?” You peer up at him.

He chuckles, “I’m hundred percent sure.”

And proceeds to kiss your next words away as if to seal the deal, to show you that yes, you are the woman he’s been waiting for, the only one he’ll ever have to wait for.

Maybe that’s just a baby step in your world. You will have more days like this, more days of insecurity and fear and straight up panic. That’s not something that you fix overnight.

But for Mingyu, you’ll try anything to make your happy ending.

[flaggermuser]

Look At This Photograph

1,229 words || AU, Tender Threads timeline, Hurt/Comfort, GN Reader, Doctor Reader, Happy Ending, References to Childhood Trauma ||

A little gift for @sehtoast feat. Tawny (GN Reader)

It follows on from When You Loved Me

This is also unbeta'd so we are dying like kings

Tawny.

Ben had heard Homelander say your name enough times for him to become curious enough to meet you finally. He knew all about the bad room, the unending nightmare of experimentation that Homelander was subjected to as a child.

But he’d never heard about you before Homelander went ‘home’. Homelander even admitted that he didn’t know about you until he found that fateful file with your name.

Then he tracked you down.

And now, Ben stands with Homelander, patiently waiting for you to open the door. He notices how Homelander fiddles with his suit, almost nervously, as if his appearance must meet your approval.

The moment you open the door, Ben is slightly taken aback, able to hide his initial surprise quickly.

You’re nothing like the others in the lab.

“John!” Your arms fling open, and you pull Homelander into the tightest parental hug.

Hearing you say Homelander’s real name throws Ben off a little, something that, this time, he’s not able to hide. Yet he manages to collect himself enough to see how Homelander melts into you and your embrace.

“They love me,” Homelander explains with a smile. “They had to leave because they loved me.”

It seems to last for centuries, neither of you willing to let go of the other until Homelander eventually, and with much hesitation, pulls away first.

“Tawny, this is my boyfriend, Ben.”

Now your attention is on Ben, your lips curving into that warm smile that Homelander won’t stop raving about. Something undeniably nurturing about you makes Ben’s guard drop only slightly.

“Welcome, Ben. John has told me so much about you. Come on in.”

It’s precisely how Homelander described it in vast detail.

Everything from the slightly tasteless couch and armchair set to the mantlepiece covered in those ornate frames. Despite Homelander’s numerous attempts to explain how different you are, Ben remains on edge, ready to defend Homelander.

“A glass of milk for John, lemonade for Ben and some cookies for both.”

It feels strangely familiar, like when Ben used to visit his grandparents. It's a very simple but extremely loving gesture that makes Homelander practically beam with happiness.

“So Ben,” you begin. “Homelander has told me everything about you. It's so nice to meet you finally.” There you go again with that tone, filled with sincerity and unfathomable kindness. 

“Likewise,” Ben musters, still unsure. “It's a nice house you have.”

“I’m glad you think so. I try to keep it nice, although I don’t get many visitors. Well, I never used to.”

You reach across, taking Homelander’s hand and squeezing it as tightly as possible, looking at him with an adoring gaze. It's no wonder Homelander latched onto you as quickly as he did.

You give your love so freely - Homelander doesn't have to do anything to earn it.

It’s unconditional.

Homelander excuses himself, leaving Ben alone with you. He’s trying not to look at you; he doesn’t want you to notice how uneasy he is. Luckily, Homelander has been too preoccupied with you to notice how awkward Ben feels.

“You're uncomfortable, I can tell,” you state it as a fact but tenderly, attempting to ease the tension caused by Ben’s anxiety.

“I'm anxious too,” you confess. “I admit part of me worries that you think I'm unsuitable to be in John's life. He told me you know about the lab and what was done to him. I know you must have questions; I’ll do my best to answer.”

Can you read minds?

“Why did you join the project in the first place? Surely you knew what they were doing?”

“I didn't,” it's the truth. Ben can tell when people are lying. “I joined because it was advertised as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; I thought it would be something else.”

The first few tears prick your eyes. “I stayed because I couldn't leave him to cry alone in the dark at night. He needed someone to care for him, so I did my best.”

You sniff, barely able to utter another word before Homelander kneels at your feet, taking your hands in his and glaring at Ben.

“What did you say?” Homelander hisses, clearly angry that Ben made you cry.

“John,” saying his name draws his attention back to you.

Ben watches how you hold Homelander's face in your hands and look at him like he's the most precious thing in the world to you.

Ben sees it then - Homelander might not be your son by birth, but he is by circumstance.

You love him with all your heart.

“Don't be silly and get upset with Ben,” you continue. “He's just asking me questions about my time at the lab. Of course, I'll get a little sad; they’re painful memories, but it's fine, honestly. He loves you very much; he wouldn't ask me if he didn't. He wants to make sure I'm good enough for you.”

Homelander looks back at Ben, his eyes filled with regret, “I'm sorry, Ben. I'm just so…”

“Protective,” Ben finishes. “I know you are, Johnny. I'm sorry too, I just had all these questions and…”

“Ask them,” you respond. “Ask them all.”

It’s late.

Ben should have been snuggled up in bed with Homelander, but he couldn’t sleep until he did one final thing. 

He knocks on your door, rocking his heels while waiting on your porch, his hands clasping something behind his back. The hallway light turns on, the locks unlock, and the door opens a little, revealing your face. 

You quickly undo the locks, almost throwing open the door and grabbing Ben by the biceps, your face filled with worry

“Ben! Is everything okay?” Your voice trembles. “Are you hurt? Is John hurt? Has something happened?”

“No,” Ben splutters out. 

The worry melts away into a warm expression, and you happily welcome him again, only for Ben to stop you in the hall. He doesn’t want to go further; this is only a flying visit.

“I just came by, and I wanted to give you something,” he says, handing you a gift hastily wrapped in brown paper and string. He waits with bated breath as you open it.

Your eyes well up, and tears slowly fall down your cheeks as you cover your mouth with your hand, the other trembling while you hold the photograph.

It’s Ben and Homelander, sitting on the couch in Homelander’s penthouse with smiles on their faces. A private and tender moment captured forever and sealed in a simple frame. It’s clear from your reaction that this means a lot to you.

“Oh, Ben, this is wonderful,” you say, reaching out to grab his forearm. “Thank you so much. It’s going right on the mantle.”

“I’m sorry for earlier.”

“Nonsense.” The look in your eyes shows that this parental love extends to Ben. “You’re just looking out for John, and I appreciate that—truly, I do. He has some wounds that run very deep, those that will never heal and leave everlasting scars. I can only do so much. But he has you to help him through the pain.”

Ben wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your hair and softly sobbing. He feels silly for being so anxious about you and your intentions, but despite your past misdeed, you have the purest heart.

And you loving John as a parent loves a son is enough for Ben.

[hart269]

Slithering Hearts

Chapter 7

Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem! reader Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother. A/N : You admit your feelings for Regulus. Also some Regulus POV.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Littered acoss the expanse of the celestial sphere, the burning balls of the stars couldn't have shined as brightly as his eyes, merlin, it was because of Amelia, yes, it was her, not like you had noticed them before, you definitely didn't. Not at all. It sounded like a lie even in your head. You groaned, burying your face into your scarf.

"Are you okay?" you glared up at him, it was his fault, yes, how dare he be who he is. You scoffed retreating back into your scarf, not answering his question.

He pressed his fingers on your forehead, and your face naturally warmed up, "Do you have a fever".

"I'm feeling just a bit warm" your muffled sound barely reached him. He didn't retaliate, "You should visit madam pompfrey".

You lifted your head to meet his concerned eyes, "I'm fine Reg, it'll go away in a while". At least you hoped so. He nodded although not looking much convinced.

Despite the cold night, you could feel the warmth like little electrical waves seeping from him. You scooted closer until your arms were almost brushing, when he made no movement to pull away, staring into the book, you scooted closer.

Regulus stared daggers into the book, latching into the word, not being able to complete reading the sentence. He knew for a fact, that if he moved and you took it as his discomfort, you will move away. He also knew that he wouldn't be able to muster up the courage to ask you to move back.

It was easier in times when you two were with more people to focus elsewhere, to impersonate as was expected of him. But with no one else, just in your presence, the walls he had build are vanished. To say much, you hadn't let him build it since you met.

It would be deceptive to say he hadn't tried, to distance you, to keep you at arm's bay, to be the 'perfect' child he was expected to be. But you tore them as if they were made of dandelions and not the stone of his parent's expectations.

So Regulus didn't move, not until you scooted closer, then he leaned a bit on your shoulder. His eyes relaxed, darting between sentences, and between the mayhem of the entirety of the his world, it felt like a stretch of peace.

"Can I ask you a question?" you asked, looking down at his head. He lifted his head, his eyes gazing at yours, "Si seulement nous pouvions obtenir les réponses à toutes les questions que notre cœur désire".

You shuddered, it was startling whenever he spoke French at random times, "What does that mean?". He turned his head, his eyes directly meeting yours, "You can ask whatever you want."

You nodded, not trusting your voice. There were so many things you wanted to ask him, but now that he was looking at you so attentively, as if you're gonna recite the holy words of Merlin himself, you could only whisper, "Do you ever wonder, what is it like" you paused for a moment, taking a breath, "being in love?"

The thing about Regulus he never questioned your weird questions, he had answered them to the best of his knowledge and even embarked with you on a journey to find them. But this he thought was the most pondorous. He leaned back into your shoulder, what was it like being in love. And when he finally answered his voice was not an octave louder than a whisper.

"I would say it's like the feeling when after a storm, the tide finally resides. It's wandering around lost your whole life until you stop cause you have found what you were searching for, until you are no longer lost, until you're home."

Regulus pondered over his own words the next day, he had answered at what he beleived to be his form of it, but the only person he could ever picture coming close to that feeling would be you. You had revolved around in his mind since the first day he had seen you at King cross station waving away at your brother. Maybe he'll tell you one day, one day for sure.

For now, it was enough for him to have you by his side, even just at friends. You were enough, even if you were now chasing after a black cat so you could find his 'twin' as you said.

"And then he was like all screaming and stuff, just because his favourite panda was in the dirt, what a siss" you were loudly interrupted by the scream of the infamous James potter who entered in his dorm.

He pointed at you, "What are you doing here, munching away at my cookies, you monster?".

Sirius snickered behind him, patting his back. You rolled your eyes, going back to the story you were telling Remus and Peter. You may have used some foxy ways to enter here and later when Remus and Peter entered, you decided to distract them with an embarassig story of James.

However James didn't retiliate, he came screeching, snatching the cookie jar from you. You went right back to fighting him for it, grabbing at the jar, "Where's yours"

"It's finished."

"Doesn't mean you can take mine" he snatched it back, holding it close to his chest. "You sneaked into the Gryffindor's common room and then into the boy's dorm, somehow found ours, for cookies"

At your nod, Sirius grinned, "She's perfect to execute pranks". You had already been exempted from being pranked after once you had gotten water thrown on you and James had received an Howler, this time from your Dad.

James shook his head, "No, absolutely not, we don't want anymore trouble than we already have"

"I'm not trouble"

"Yes you are, you always hanging out with snakes"

"Not everyone in Slytherin are snakes" Sure some like Malfoy and Lestrange were but you avoided them like the plauges they were.

"Oh yes, they are" James grumbled finally snatching the jar from him.

"Not to mention you are always hanging out with my brother" Sirius said plopping down on his bed.

"So what?" you glared at him. Sirius stood for a moment, it was truly a lightbulb lighting in his head moment at him.

"You know I remembered something, wanna help me over there" Sirius pointed outside the door.

"Why not" you squinted your eyes following him.

"You like my brother, don't you"

"You have no evidence"

"You're not denying it"

"Don't test me Black, I know your deepest darkest secrets too"

"Oh really, Like what" Sirius snorted. Big mistake.

You smirked, "You're in love with Remus"

Sirius's eyes widened like saucers, "I - uh- Excuse you, I'm dating Marlene"

"Who's dating Dorcas actually, at first I thought she was just cheating on you but now I realise"

"How did you know"

"I have sources" You didn't, while searching for James's bed, you saw one cvered with scrolls of paper. Inbetween the scrolls laid on Sirius's bed you found Remus's name with a red heart drawn upon it.

"Fine" Sirius sighed, "I won't tell if you won't"

"I need something else too"

"What"

"Teach me how you do your eyeliner"

"Oh my God" Sirius whisper yelled.

"What"

"Prongs is gonna be my brother-in-law"

"What the fu-"

You crooned at the new black kitten, it was just impossibly tiny. However Regulus glared daggers at it, "What do you think we should name it?"

"Naming it means you'll get attached to it"

"So what"

"No"

"No what, it's so cute"? you said petting it.

"And i'm not?" Regulus blanched realising he said it out loud.

"You are pretty too, Reg, don't worry"

Regulus dscoffed, "I'm prettier"

You laughed, at Regulus's pout before he too broke into a smile. However, to your obliviousness darkness loomed overhead as a dark lord gained more and more power

French translation : If only we could get the answers to all the questions of our hearts desire.

Taglist : @shycreationdreamland @mp-littlebit @girlbooklover555 @godofstory @misacc08 @starchaser-lily @moonywastakenn @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @skepvids @venomsvl

[queenshelby]

The Law Student (Rewritten)

Part Four: Mistakes

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (20) & Reader (30)

Note: This plays in 1996, just before Cillian drops out of law school.

"Can I ask you something, Miss Y/LN?" he said, addressing you with a formality that was endearing in its earnestness.

"Of course, Cillian," you replied, mirroring his formality but unable to suppress the slight tremble in your voice.

You could feel your heart beating faster as you waited for his question, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

Cillian took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "Do you think that, sometimes, people can fall for one another despite their best efforts not to?" he asked, his gaze locked onto yours.

His question hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning and implications. You swallowed hard, unprepared for his directness.

The night air had grown colder, and you shivered involuntarily. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, a magnetic pull drawing you closer to this handsome young man who seemed so intent on understanding the mysteries of human connection.

"Uhm, I suppose so," you answered, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions racing through you. "But I should really, uhm , get some rest now," you added hurriedly, avoiding his gaze. You wanted to run away from this intense connection and the confusing emotions it evoked.

As you fumbled with your keys, trying to unlock the building's entrance, Cillian reached out and gently placed a hand on your arm. "Wait," he said, softly. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled you towards him. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he whispered, his eyes searching yours for a sign that you were okay. "But I just can't stop thinking about you, Miss Y/LN," he told you , his voice barely above a whisper.

"Cillian , I-," you started to protest, but he silenced you with a gentle finger on your lips.

"No, don't say anything," he murmured. "I know I am crossing a line here. But, I don't know. I just had to take my chances I suppose," Cillian admitted honestly and his words hung between you in the cool night air.

You could feel his breath against your skin, and your body involuntarily leaned closer to him. Cillian's hand moved from your arm to cup your cheek, and he gently brushed away a stray lock of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you suddenly felt very aware of how close he was.

"Would you, uhm, like to come inside?" you heard yourself ask, surprising both yourself and him.

You weren't sure where this was going, or what would happen next, but you knew that you couldn't just let him go without clearing the air between you.

Cillian's eyes widened in shock for a brief moment, but then a small smile played on his lips, and he nodded.

Without a word, you turned and unlocked the building's door, leading him up the stairs to your apartment. Your heart raced with every step, unsure of what would happen next.

"Come in ," you murmured, pushing the door open to reveal a cozy and warmly lit living space.

The furniture, dimly illuminated by a standing lamp, consisted of a plush couch and an oversized armchair, sitting opposite a cream-colored coffee table adorned with a large vase of fresh flowers.

Cillian hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, his eyes scanning the space with an intense curiosity.

You closed the door behind him, the sound of the latch clicking into place echoing in the silence that followed.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" you asked, breaking the silence. You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn't dare meet his eyes. Instead, you walked towards the kitchen area, your movements deliberate and measured.

"Sure," Cillian replied, his voice husky and low. You could sense the tension building between you, the anticipation making your heart race.

You busied yourself with pouring two glasses of wine, taking your time to steady your shaking hands.

The clinking of glass against the countertop filled the apartment, punctuating the charged silence.

As you turned around to face him, you saw that Cillian had taken off his coat and had draped it across the back of one of your kitchen chairs.

His eyes were locked on yours, the intensity in his gaze setting your skin on fire.

Slowly, deliberately, you made your way towards him, the glasses of wine barely registering in your hands.

"Listen, uhm,  Cillian," you began, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to find the right words. "I want you to know that I really appreciate your kindness and, I guess, your honesty as well," you trailed off, finally mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "But this, this thing between us, it can't happen," you said, your voice steady despite the swarm of emotions consuming you.

Cillian opened his mouth to protest, but you placed a finger on his lips, effectively silencing him just as he had done with you earlier. 

"Please, just listen," you implored him. "I can feel it too, the pull between us, but it's wrong. You're my student. I'm your professor and if I was to pursue anything with you then I could lose my job, my reputation, everything I've worked for. Despite, you're young and ambitious, with a bright future ahead of you. You should be with someone your own age," you  told him, pushing the glass of wine into his hand. You knew you were making excuses and that the real reason was that you were afraid. Afraid of what would happen if you gave in to this attraction, afraid of the consequences, and afraid of losing yourself in the process.

But Cillian wouldn't back down and placed the wineglass  back on the table. He took a step forward, closing the gap between you, leaving you with no room to retreat. You looked up at him, your breath hitched, and your heart pounding heavily in your chest. The tension was building up; you could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the electricity that sparked as your hands brushed against one another.

"I don't want girls my age. They are boring. Predictable. Sometimes, I even feel like I can't breathe when I'm around them," Cillian said, his deep blue eyes never leaving yours.  "I want someone like you."

His confession hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't help but feel your resolve crumbling. You knew that giving in to this attraction was a dangerous game, but you couldn't deny the pull you felt towards him.

"Cillian," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper but Cillian didn't seem to hear the warning in your voice.

All he heard was the longing, the desire that you tried so hard to suppress. And before you knew it, his hands were cupping your face , drawing you close. His gaze dropped to your lips, and you could see the hunger, the anticipation in his blue eyes. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the moment you knew was coming, but you couldn't deny the thrill, the excitement that coursed through your veins. You felt his breath against your lips, and then time stood still. You felt his lips brush against yours, gently, hesitantly, and then more confidently. It was a kiss, sweet and tender, but with a promise of more to come. 

"Cillian, I don't think we should be doing this," you murmured, your voice a breathy whisper, but your words fell on deaf ears as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch, and you realized that resisting him was futile. You let yourself sink into the kiss, your heart pounding with desire.

The kiss quickly became heated, and you could feel the chemistry between you ignite, setting your body on fire and it was at this point that you took over control. 

You reached for Cillian's shirt, pulling it over his head and letting it fall beside you on the floor. His chest was lean and firm, with a small patch of chest hair covering his skin. 

You ran your hands over his bare skin, relishing the feel of his warm skin beneath your fingertips. Cillian let out a low moan as your fingers trailed over his abs, making their way down to the hem of his jeans. 

"Oh my goodness Cillian, you are already so hard," you murmured, running your thumb over the growing bulge in his pants.

Cillian blushed heavily. "Well, you have this kind of effect on me I suppose ," he mumbled, his eyes never leaving yours. His voice was thick with desire, and you could hear the slight tremble in his words.

Your heart skipped a beat at his response. He was right - you did have this kind of effect on him. You had an inexplicable power over him, and he over you. It was a dangerous game, but the pull between you was too strong to resist.

You undid the button of his jeans, and slowly, teasingly, pulled down the zipper.

Cillian's breath hitched as you slipped your hand inside his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his shaft. He was rock hard, his length impressive and intimidating all at once.

"You like that?" you murmured, stroking him slowly, watching as a shudder ran through his body at your touch.

"Miss, uhm...fuck," he gasped, his voice hoarse with desire as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the sensation of your touch.

You watched him, your own desire building as you stroked him, feeling him grow harder and hotter in your hand. You could feel his pulse throbbing in your fingertips, his breath coming in ragged gasps as you brought him closer and closer to the edge.

"Please Miss Y/LN, you need to stop," he begged, his voice strained. "I don't want to cum yet." 

You pulled your hand away reluctantly, a wicked smile playing on your lips before you reached behind your back and unzipped your dress, slowly letting it slide off your shoulders and onto the floor.

"Holy shit," Cillian breathed, his eyes roving over your lingerie-clad body. "You are so hot."

You smiled at his admiration, feeling a thrill run through you at his words. You loved being desired by him, and you reveled in the way he looked at you.

"Come here," you said, crooking your finger at him and beckoning him closer and, like a shy boy, he obliged, moving towards you with hunger in his eyes before kissing you again. 

Reaching for his hand, you eventually guided him to your plush couch, urging him to sit down. Your heart rate was almost pounding out of your chest, but you reveled in the desire that coursed through your veins.

Cillian sat on the edge of the couch, his eyes never leaving yours, and before he could even blink, you removed your bra , revealing your perfect breasts for his gaze to admire. His gaze was locked, nearly fixated on them, and you could see the desire burning behind his eyes.

Slowly, you then walked towards him before, finally, taking off your panties as well. 

"Is this what you want, Cillian?" you asked, your voice thick with longing and anticipation.

Your eyes locked onto Cillian's, and you could see the raging desire in his deep blue eyes. You could tell he was struggling to contain himself, and you reveled in the thought of being the one to unleash his primal urges.

"God, yes," Cillian breathed, his voice raw with yearning and you wasted no time and pushed down his briefs , allowing his erection to spring free. It was impressive, to say the least, and your mouth watered at the thought of wrapping your lips around it.

"You are beautiful," Cillian breathed as you dropped to your knees in front of him, your hands roaming over his thighs. You could feel his muscles tense and quiver beneath your touch, and you smiled and knew you had him right where you wanted him.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing against the tip of his erection, causing Cillian to gasp and groan.

"Do you think you can cum twice for me?" you asked, locking eyes with Cillian as you slowly stroked his cock, your lips mere inches away from his tip.

"Fuck, Miss, I-I don't know," Cillian stammered, his hips bucking involuntarily into your grip, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

"Well, we will just have to find out then, won't we?" you smirked before taking him deep into your mouth, swallowing him to the root and reveling in the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat.

Cillian let out a string of curse words as you began to suck and stroke him in earnest, your other hand reaching up to play with his balls. He tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling gently as you worked his cock, grinding your teeth against his girth as you swallowed him hungrily.

"F-f-fuck," Cillian gasped, his voice shaking with pleasure. "I'm gonna fucking cum if you keep doing this!"

You pulled off of him with a satisfying pop, looking up at him through your thick lashes.

"That's a good boy," you murmured, smirking at the shocked look on his face before taking him back into your mouth.

Cillian's moans and curse words filled the room, his hips thrusting upwards as you sucked him with abandon. It wasn't long before you could feel him tensing up, and you knew he was close.

"I'm gonna cum, Miss!" Cillian exclaimed, groaning loudly as he shot his load into your mouth, filling you with his warm seed. You swallowed eagerly, savoring the taste of his release.

But you weren't finished with him yet . You looked up at Cillian, your mouth still wrapped around his cock.

His eyes were closed, his head thrown back in pleasure as you continued to work your mouth over him.

Slowly, you began to move again, sucking him deeper and harder with each stroke until he hardened again completely  in your mouth.

"Ah, I can't believe how good this feels," Cillian gasped as you worked your magic, coaxing his cock back to a steel-like stiffness between your lips.

He opened his eyes and looked down at you, the heat in his gaze scorching as, finally, you released him from your mouth and stood up.

"Sit back against the couch," you instructed Cillian, your voice soft and sultry but at the same time, unyielding, demanding.

You needed this. Needed to take control. Needed to feel what it was like to possess him.

He obeyed, lying back against the couch, his cock straining towards the ceiling.

Slowly, deliberately, you climbed onto him, placing one knee on either side of his hips. You were straddling him now, your pussy hovering tantalizingly close to his cock.

You could feel the heat emanating from your wetness, and you knew that he could see it too.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Cillian breathed, his hands reaching up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

You arched your back, gasping as his touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"And you're so fucking perfect," you replied, your voice low and sultry as you reached down to guide his cock towards your entrance. "God, I need this. Need to feel you inside me," you moaned, slowly lowering yourself onto him, inch by inch.

Cillian gasped as you took him inside of you, his cock stretching you wide, filling you up in a way that made your toes curl. You began to rock your hips back and forth, grinding yourself against him, your clit rubbing against his pelvis with every movement.

"You are so wet for me. So fucking tight," Cillian groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he began to thrust up into you.

"Are you going to be a good boy for me and cum deep inside me?" you demanded, your voice low and sultry.

"Yes, Miss, I-I'll do anything you want," Cillian stuttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to thrust harder and faster into you.

But you weren't satisfied yet. You wanted to feel him even deeper inside of you, so you leaned back, placing your hands on Cillian's thighs for support.

"Ah, fuck yes," Cillian moaned as you began to ride him harder, the angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside of you.

"I am so close ," you panted, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you drew closer and closer to your climax.

Cillian groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust up into you.

The feeling of him inside of you, the sound of our bodies slapping together, the smell of our sweat mixing together - it was all so overwhelming, so intoxicating.

"I'm gonna cum," you exclaimed, your voice rising in pitch as your orgasm washed over you.

Your nails dug into Cillian's thighs, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin as you rode out the waves of pleasure that coursed through your body.

Cillian let out a loud groan as he felt you clench around him, his cock twitching as he emptied himself deep inside you. His warm seed spilled forth, filling you up completely before leaking out slowly, trailing down your inner thigh.

You collapsed onto him, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.

Cillian wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as his own panting subsided. You both lay there, spent and exhausted, your bodies intertwined in a tangle of post-orgasmic bliss.

But as the haze of passion cleared, reality came crashing back down.

You had just fucked one of your students. There, you said it. It was wrong, and you knew it - but you couldn't deny the wave of satisfaction and contentment that washed over you. It had been so long since you had felt anything other than isolation and loneliness.

But as the adrenaline wore off, guilt and panic began to set in. You quickly pulled away from Cillian, your movements hurried and frantic as you scrambled to collect your clothes from the floor.

"What's wrong?" Cillian asked, concern etched on his face.

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze as you pulled your dress back on, the material sticking to your sweat-slicked skin.

"Did I do something wrong?" he then asked quickly , his face falling as he pulled on his boxers and jeans, trying to cover himself as if he were naked and vulnerable.

"No," you stammered, shaking your head as you pulled your panties back on beneath your dress. It was true, he hadn't done anything wrong, but you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that had settled in your stomach like a lead weight.

"Then why are you freaking out?" Cillian asked, searching your face for an answer. "You know I won't tell anyone about this," he added, his voice soft and sincere.

You met his gaze, grateful for his understanding and compassion. "I know," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's just, I fucked up Cillian. I should have acted responsibly,"  you reluctantly confessed.

The mood had shifted dramatically, and the heavy weight of guilt and shame hung in the air between you.

Cillian looked hurt for a moment before masking it with a nonchalant shrug. "Hey, it's fine. I wanted it probably more than you did. I made the first move," he assured you but you knew that it wasn't that simple. You were his professor, and you were meant to protect him and guide him academically - not to take advantage of his youth and vulnerability.

"Cillian, I think it's best if you leave," you said, your voice trembling as you forced yourself to meet his gaze.

Cillian's face fell, and you could see the hurt and confusion in his eyes. He nodded slowly, his movements stiff and jerky as he grabbed his t-shirt.

"I'll see you tomorrow in class," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

But you knew that things would never be the same between you. You had crossed a line, and there was no turning back.

Tags:

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[dairy-farmer]

Tim wakes up on a regular day just like any other day. He makes breakfast; gets ready for work; goes to WE; goes home; do a light workout; sleep. Ever since he woke up confused a few months ago, bruised and aching, he'd taken measures to live healthily and has led a very mundane life ever since. Or well, as mundane as one can be when you're a eighteen-year-old CEO to the company that belongs to his neighbors.

Except today, there came a sudden break in his pattern. Today was WE's quarterly meeting. And for the first time since he became CEO, the owner and former CEO of WE would be coming to the meeting. Tim is admittedly nervous. He had rarely interacted with Mr. Wayne. The most interaction he could remember was when Mr. Wayne adopted him a few months before he had decided to become emancipated. He doesn't know what he did during that brief period in time that impressed Mr. Wayne so much that he made him CEO. Whatever it was, he can't let Mr. Wayne down. Although Tim can live independently without relying on Mr. Wayne, the few months he had been adopted was enough for Tim to feel indebted.

The meeting goes well sans a few intense stares the board members gave him and Mr. Wayne. Then Mr Wayne asked to meet him in his office. Tim thought he wanted to go over the reports from the meeting but confusingly enough, Mr. Wayne kept on asking him questions about a restaurant chain and how he hasn't given any reports or updates to a cave?? Tim didn't know what's going on. He asks, as politely as he could, if Mr. Wayne had a drink before his meeting. But that might not have been the best question to ask because he looked so offended. Mr. Wayne gets mad and demands Tim to stop playing around and if this is still about Damian taking his position. Tim feels his heart stop. Did he do something wrong? Why is he about to be fired so suddenly? He knew Mr. Damian will inherit the company but last he knew he was still far too young. Mr. Wayne looks at him in shock and asks Tim to repeat what he called Damian, to which Tim did. Suddenly Mr. Wayne is putting on a rebreather and pressing something on Tim's desk. The room is soon filled with gas that knocks Tim out. The last thing Tim hears is Mr. Wayne calling something called Oracle and reciting a string of code.

Meanwhile, Bruce is panicking. It's been months since he last saw Tim. He had been distant with him all morning. He thought he was still mad about Damian taking his place as Robin but then he suddenly called Damian as Mr. Damian. Something is wrong with his son and they're going to find out what.

They checked with Leslie and all old footage of Red Robin. Tim never had any documented head injury so they don't know what was the cause of the amnesia until they asked Zatanna to come. After Zatanna checks Tim, she asks Bruce why exactly did he go to Tim right now and when was the last time he spoke to Tim. Bruce tells her that he missed his son but Zatanna demands more answers. Bruce finally admits that Red Robin hadn't visited the cave in a while and he was hoping he could help him with a case.

Zatanna tells Bruce that they had been cursed to be forgotten by a family member that needed them the most. The one who cursed his family had probably known his weakness to his children and wanted him to feel despair and guilt of losing a child that needed him the most. It could've been an easy fix had the bats figured out they were cursed immediately but it had been months and the spell had latched on to Tim's firmly. The fact that Tim is still alive can only be a miracle. However, Zatanna doesn't know if he'll ever get any erased memories back

-🦆

🥺🥺🥺🥺 tim losing his memories and nobody noticing! but also 😍😍😍😍 tim losing his memories and nobody noticing! tim having been cursed and it being unsure whether they can recover those memories meaning that ruce and the rest of the family, if they want to form any kind of connection with tim will have to TRY and bond with him because currently tim isn't particularly attached to them!!!

[justanothersanjilover]

One Piece Modern Gym AU wips

(Part 4)

After finishing his shift Sanji stayed at the bar a little longer, trying to spot a girl that matched the earlier description. But he couldn’t, there was no one that would fit. Sighing he made his way over to the staff room. Hearing giggles coming from inside, he smiled at the thought of seeing Nami and Vivi after a particular hard day at work. He open the door and stepped inside.

The room was a break room and changing room at the same time. So he walked in on them changing quiet often - it didn’t seem to bother neither Nami, nor Vivi and Sanji wouldn’t complain. He liked looking at beauty even if it was out of reach for him - looking at them was admiration for their absolutely magnificent beauty for the most part, really!

But this time the picture was completely different and he was truly shocked because of it.

Zoro was in there with the girls, his back turned toward the door. They all were shirtless and while Vivi seemed to be really interested in Zoro‘s chest, Nami looked down at her‘s and shook her head.

„I don’t know if I would want that…“ she, again, looked down. „No I definitely don’t want that.“

„And that’s the good thing - no one can force you to do it. So, if you two have enough of staring and comparing, I‘d like to put my shirt back on,“ Zoro chuckled while sending both of them an amused look.

„Am I interrupting something?“ Sanji made himself known, looking everywhere but Zoro‘s wide back and the girls chests.

„Na, we just compared sizes so to say,“ Vivi laughed, smacking Zoro for making an inappropriate sound.

Sanji raised an eyebrow and looked at Zoro. Why wasn’t he turning around? Usually he didn’t miss a chance to give him one of his challenging and at the same time unreadable looks. Sanji could even see how he tensed up a bit and it was obvious, that Vivi and Nami made the biggest effort to draw attention away from Zoro. Sanji had to admit that it worked. One moment he stared holes in Zoro’s back and the next he looked at Nami stretching - which made her boobs press together slightly and jiggle as she released the tension in her body.

Vivi already got dressed and walked over now.

„I wanted to ask you something about one of your recipes you gave me the other day.“

It was a question clearly made up on the spot, but Sanji gave her a detailed answer on how to prepare and season the avocado for the salad he recommended to her the other day. He did glance over to Zoro while he spoke, seeing him put his shirt on and relaxing as the fabric covered him. Now he turned around and threw one of those looks at Sanji, but this time, Sanji didn't look away; he held his gaze. Zoro seemed at bit irritated but took it as a challenge, and it quickly went from simply looking at each other to a starring contest.

“You guys are unbelievable,” Nami sighed, and Sanji could see, out of the corner of his eye, that she’d put on her shirt as well.

“Just like children,” Vivi giggled, latching herself to Nami and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“We’re going home. Have fun staring at each other and don't forget to lock the door when you're finished!” Nami yelled as she and Vivi were already out of the room.

Zoro smirked as he saw Sanji’s eye twitch. He could do this all-day long, but was the cook able to?

“I can see you wanting to give up already. Why don't you look away? You want to run after Nami and Vivi to take them home, right?”

“I'm not gonna loose against a muscle head like you, Marimo!”

prev | next

First part

[mythicalmagical-monkeyman]

Heeeeey dreamerzzz fans

um, I wrote a thing because the ao3 tag is, uh, in shambles (cries) to put it buuut anyways I’ll put the story under the cut if you wanna read it here

Summary: Sooooo, ig I kind of have it in my au that Cooper’s been in love with Mateo for forever but I thought it’d be funnier if he accidentally confesses instead doing some serious reveal Thus This

Additional Tags:

First dreamzzz fic woo! I have no idea what I’m doing Wrote this on a whim. - logan is only there for cameo points, Cooper has implied anxiety, Mateo goes non verbal for a little bit, Aged-Up Character(s), But it’s not specifically said how old they are, Crack turned hurt/comfort, trigger warning for a slight mention of drowning, Love Confessions, accidental love confession, t for light swearing, No beta we die like Lunia, Fluff, Physics bashing

— — —

Mateo chewed on the nail of his thumb as he mulled over the physics homework on the table in front of him as Logan, who sat across from him, did the same. Well Logan was less doing homework and more rocking out to an air guitar. 

Cooper was also at the table with the two only he had finished his work about fifteen minutes ago and was now engrossed with a video game on his phone. 

Mateo sighed and took his eyes off his paper. He was starting to understand why Cooper insisted that physics wasn’t a real thing, it honestly kind of sucked. 

Maybe he just needed a quick comic break. 

Mateo turned in his seat so he could more easily zip open his backpack and pull out his tablet. Z-Blob greeted him as the slime was able to see light again. 

“Hey bud,” 

Mateo looked around and seeing that no one else was in that part of the library, reached into his bag and pulled out his tablet. Z latched on to his arm as he reached in and when Mateo pulled his arm back out Z-Blob came with. 

Z-Blob flopped to the table and looked down at the pages of homework he had landed on as Mateo set his tablet down only for the slime to shake himself as if he was disgusted by the papers. 

Mateo snickered, “Yeah homework is pretty gross,” 

Z-Blob looked down at the homework again before looking up and pointing his head in Cooper’s direction. 

“Hm?” Mateo hummed, cocking his head to the side in confusion. 

The slime looked back down at the page for a third time. He then hopped off the paper towards Cooper and pointed his head again. 

Finally it clicked what Z-Blob was trying to communicate. 

“Ooooohhhhh,” Mateo said, picking up his pencil and glancing at his paper to see which questions he still had to answer, “Hey Coop?” 

“Yeah?” Cooper wondered, not taking his attention off his phone. 

“What is Mach Number?” Mateo quizzed, preparing himself to write down the answer. 

“Mach number gives the ratio of the speed of the object to the speed of sound in the fluid. It's formula is m equal u over c and it was figured out by a guy named Ernst Mach,” Cooper muttered. 

Mateo grinned and scribbled down what Cooper had told him, “Thank you,” 

“Yeah, no problem. Love you too,” Cooper responded in the same somewhat out of it voice he’d been using. 

All in the span of a couple seconds many things ended up happening. Logan instantly started laughing as red sprang to Mateo’s face as he dropped his pencil and put his head in his hands to hide the blush. Cooper seemed to mentally blue screen for a second before he realized what he had said and started to stutter out swears and apologizes. 

Logan threw back his head as he laughed, “PFFFFF HA, BRO WHY’D YOU ADMIT TO THAT DURING HOMEWORK TIME!? HAHA!” 

“I don’t- I DONT KNOW! It-it just slipped out!” Cooper shot back trying to deflect only to let his head drop in embarrassment, “Mateo I’m so sorry! I didn’t-!” 

“It’s fine!” Mateo squeaked. 

Cooper groaned and grabbed his hoodie hood to throw it over his head. He pulled on the drawstrings and the opening of his hood shrunk so half of Cooper’s face was no longer visible and then Cooper face planted into the table. 

Logan kept on laughing for a bit before it died out to just the occasional snicker but Mateo had mostly tuned it out at that point as too many thoughts swarmed around in his head. 

Did he really just admit that? Cooper wasn’t actually in love with him right? There was no way they were at that point in their relationship yet! 

A nervous laugh came from Cooper and he abruptly stood where he swung his bag over his shoulder. 

“I’m going to drown myself in the bay now,” He announced before speed walking behind the nearest bookcase and disappearing. 

Logan sniffed as his snickers died completely, “Hey, did he just—“ 

Mateo was already shoving his things into his bag to go after Cooper however. He was only slightly concerned that Cooper might actually try and drown himself so most of his urgency came from the fact that he didn’t want to end things on note that had just happened. 

“Come on Z-Blob,” Mateo told his green little friend as he picked him up, “Let’s go catch up to Cooper.” 

Logan blinked, “Wha-bro! You just gonna leave me here?” 

Mateo gave Logan a look that he hoped came off as more curious than pissed, “You can come if you want, I never said you couldn’t.” 

Logan stared at Mateo with his weird beast like stare for a moment before shrugging, “I was just being dramatic, this doesn’t really seem to need us getting involved,” and just as Logan started to lean back in his chair to relax he stopped and added, “Ai, you probably know this but physical contact will help keep him from going off to anxiety land.” 

Mateo nodded sharply, “Noted,” 

—————————

Mateo had to admit that keeping up with someone as tall as Cooper was an exercise in and of itself. By the time Mateo had even managed to find him Cooper was already all the way down the street heading in the direction of the park. 

After spending a few blocks closing the distance between them Mateo called out, “COOPER! Wait up!” 

Cooper tensed at that, his shoulders rasing, and instead of slowing down he started walking faster. 

Mateo groaned, add physical activity to the list of things he hated. 

“Hey! Cooper! Cooper stop!” Mateo yelled, deciding to take the speaking approach instead of continuing to chase after him, “I just wanna talk!” 

Cooper slowed slightly but he still wasn’t stopped completely.

A sour taste grew in Mateo’s mouth, god this was starting to remind him of something he’d much rather forget. In spite of it though Mateo called out, “Don’t run away from me again! Please!” 

That stopped Cooper in his tracks but it left Mateo with a growing guilty feeling that made his gut churn. 

Mateo hurried over to Cooper and once he was within an arm's length away he grabbed Cooper’s fisted hand in his own and rounded around to face Cooper. 

Cooper’s face was scrunched up like he was in physical pain but Mateo couldn’t blame him, they were no doubt remembering the same thing. 

Of course that’s when Mateo’s words failed him, but he couldn’t just say nothing! 

Mateo growled at himself why was drawing and writing so much easier than talking? Why couldn’t he just make this a comic and explain to Cooper everything he wanted to? Izzie was so much better at words than him. 

“‘Teo?” Cooper asked. 

Mateo grit his teeth together but rather than force himself to meet Cooper’s eyes he let go of Cooper’s hand and pulled him into a hug. 

Cooper stiffened but as the hug continued he seemed to melt into Mateo’s grip and hugged him back just as tight. 

“Words… suck,” Mateo grumbled. 

Cooper only hummed and buried his face into Mateo’s hair where he pressed a kiss. 

“Yeah I know, they love betraying you,” Cooper agreed.  

Mateo nodded and then pulled away slightly, “But did—“ 

Damn words. 

Luckily Cooper picked up on what Mateo was trying to ask, “I do, I do love you.” 

Mateo couldn’t help the small quiver that came to his lips, he felt like if he smiled too wide he’d start crying. So he buried his face back into Cooper’s chest and squeezed as hard as he could. Maybe he’d never have the words to convey what he was feeling but Mateo was pretty sure Cooper knew him well enough to know. 

[ratgrinders]

(this is kipperlillyforpresident) Hi. This is an insane thing to ask a person, but also I believe you are the best scholar for the job, so I will ask anyway: if Kipperlilly played Persona 5, do you think she would ship ShuAke?

Points in favor: homosexuality, the fact that it isn't canon would probably appeal to her brand of problems

Points against: She might hate Akira to begin with because of seeing his specialness as Unfair (why does this attic trash get to be the wildcard, huh?!?!), potential for her to want to self-ship with Akechi?

I'm unsure on this matter. I yield the floor to you.

Tumblr user kipperlilyforpresident, it is an honor 🙏

(wow this got longer and more rambly than i thought WHOOPS lol)

Before I answer I wanna go on a brief tangent and just say how SIMILAR Akechi and Kipperlily are. Legitimately, during that meeting at the food trucks where Brennan described Kipperlily as having a "polished steel ball of a personality", my first thought was to Akechi's detective prince persona and just how METICULOUS he is at presenting this perfect, pristine version of himself. They're both filled with violent, uncontrollable rage at the perceived unfairness of the world, they're both slightly murderous (it's okay I forgive them though), they're both extreme overachievers who nonetheless struggle with connections and making friends. Literally the main difference is just that (as I've seen you mention in tags) Akechi's rage all stems from his deadbeat father and the injustices he faced as a result while Kipperlily very explicitly DOESN'T have a tragic backstory. If these two met they would either be best friends or want to kill each other.

So going off of that, I just wanna say that I am both a kipperbees and shuake shipper, and the things that appeal to me about both ships are VERY similar. In kipperbees, like shuake, you got two people who at first seem diametrically opposed and irreconcilable; one side of the ship filled with extreme rage and jealousy at the other party but who is unwilling to admit that their rage stems from a very genuine place of wanting what the other person has, being unwilling to admit just how interesting they find the other person (it goes against their meticulous plans, it's counter to everything they believe) so they instead mislabel the feeling as hatred. The preppy, uptight overachiever who cares so much, and the person who seems to get it all (friends, success) without caring at all.

Going back to your original question, I think Kipperlily would latch on to Akechi hard if she ever played the game, both as a sort of self-insert fantasy ("he's like me but with the tragedy and cosmic importance I desperately crave") and spite (because this interesting character is still cast aside as an NPC in the grand crusade of the Phantom Thieves, he deserves justice and not death).

I think maybe at first she'd ship shuake as a sort of self-ship by proxy, believing (not that I agree) that the protagonist is a blank slate for you to project yourself onto. But I think ultimately she'd be unable to articulate just what about the ship is so appealing to her, because by subconsciously putting herself in Akechi's shoes, now she can imagine this scenario where someone understands her fully and still accepts her, someone who appeals to her competitive nature, someone who is opposed to her wrongdoing and thus subconsciously validates the internal strife she has over her own actions, but who will come back for her anyway because I think she, too, subconsciously wants to be saved from what she's been doing.

[natashascheaffer45]

Break week 2

Warnings: smut, sexual penetration, daddy kink, praise is you squint; lmk if any more

You wake up feeling refreshed. That night, Brett had taken care of you so gently it made you feel like royalty. “Good morning y/n!” You smiled as you saw the handsome relic making breakfast for you. “How’d you sleep princess?” “Like a baby” you chuckle. Brett smiles and places a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of you as you sit down. The bacon is shaped into a smile and he added blueberries and whipped cream to the pancakes..

You start to tear up unbeknownst to you why. “Oh my god y/n did I do something wrong?! Are you ok?” Brett asks in a panic. “No; I’m ok Brett” you say, sniffling. Brett pouts. “Really Brett, I don’t know why I’m crying, thank you for breakfast.” That seems to earn a smile. “I might know how to cheer you up!” You’re intrigued. Before you can get a word in, Brett kisses you cheek and wipes your tears. You blush and kiss him back. “Awe shucks” he says jokingly; You laugh. “See! Cheered you up.” You smile and walk over to the counter to get some water. “You’re beautiful” you turn around to see Brett had cornered you. He was lovingly looking at you with his puppy eyes again. “I know that look, what’s up Brett?” He paused in hesitation. “Brett?” “I love you y/n..” you were surprised. *what do I say?!* Brett notices you’re lost in thought again. “Forget it y/n, I apolog-“ “I love you too..”

Brett was still towering over you, pushing you up against the counter. “I love you Brett.” His face lit up in a way you’ve never seen before. His love struck body moved forward almost against his will. “Brett?” Before you knew it he was so close to you it was a miracle you hadn’t merged into one. Taking you by surprise, Brett lifted you onto the counter and smashed his lips into yours. “Brett!” He had height on you, making the counter dick level for him. You hated to admit it, but you were turned on. As he pulled back from the kiss, a line of saliva still connecting your lips. “I want you y/n.” You hesitate, “I, want you.. too” with those words, Brett took your shirt off and fondled you softly. You let out a breathy moan. Brett start to latch onto your breast, pleasuring you beyond perfection. “D-daddy” you let out without thinking. Brett abruptly stops. He seemed to be stunned by the new name, yet he liked it. “I-is that ok?” You asked panicked. Rather than answering he latched back onto you whilst working at your pants. “Ill.. ngh’ take that as a yes” you say, struggling to keep together already. Something about Brett made you so dizzy you could hardly move. I’m the success of him reliving your clothes, Brett slips a finger into your heat. “Ah! F-fuck” He bit down gently as he added another finger. You’d been fingered before, but you failed to pin why this one felt so different. Whilst Brett is pleasuring you, you start to take off his pants. They fall and you rub the clothed bone that Brett had. He shuddered at your touch as if he craved you. His boxers are pulled down and Brett bites a bit harder and adds a third finger. You start to stroke the tip; Brett shudders. You take this as an opportunity and start stroking his length. “S-shit y/n” he whimpers, still fingering you. “You like that?.. daddy” he moans at the question and releases into your hand. *that was quick* you think. You examine and realize he’s still hard. He has stamina. “Shit! Brett I-I’m gonna..” “go ahead princess.” You came on Brett’s fingered as he pulled you into a deep kiss. “B-Brett, please..” Brett pauses, “please what?” “I need you..” Brett hoists you onto his waist. “Where y/n?” “Bedroom.. I want you on top” Brett seemed excited by this. You are plopped onto a mattress and Brett unexpectedly pulled you legs over his shoulder. “Are you sure?” You ask nervously. “I wanna make you feel good

y/n.” He said sweetly. And with that, he thrusted in. You moaned, the position was hitting a new spot you didn’t know you had. Brett set pace, hitting a sweet spot deep inside you. “Fuck daddy!” You scream without thinking. This only made Brett thrust harder. You claw at his back and he latches onto again. “I-I can’t take it” Brett goes faster. “Fuck.. y/n, I’m gonna cum” you breathlessly whimper “please” “Where?!” He says whilst slowing down. “Inside” you beg. “Are you su-“ “PLEASE”

Brett releases inside you, filling you to the brim and marking you as his. “Thank you” Brett smiles and cleans you up. As you’re about to fall asleep if exhaustion, he cuddles up to you and kisses your forehead.

You do love Brett.. you couldn’t wait to be with him for 12 more days.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Sensual Synthetics

Tired of your family getting on at you for not having a partner, you drunkenly lament to Taehyung. Your friend suggests you purchase an escort android through his favourite service.

Chapter 1

Chapter Two

Taehyung doesn't return your call for a couple of days. 

In the meantime, you and Jimin have fallen into a bit of a routine. He awoke you each morning with an enticing breakfast, seemingly favouring baked goods. After the first two days, you allowed him to go grocery shopping for you to buy necessities. Apparently, he thought necessities meant baking supplies. Not that you were complaining as you munched on perfectly prepared croissants and tarts. 

Then he would clean up after himself and try to busy himself with other tasks he thought could be of use. The first couple of days this was useful, like organising your bookshelves and cleaning the blinds. Lately though, he had turned to sorting buttons in your craft drawer and unstuffing and restuffing cushions, anything to keep his idle hands busy when you couldn't think of anything. 

If there really was nothing he would pop himself back into the charging pod and power down for a little while. You took this time to look at him shamelessly. While you were definitely becoming more comfortable with his presence, it was still bizarre to see him when he was charging. His eyes revert to their original blue, reminding you of what he really is. 

It's almost easy to forget he isn't real when he is working around the house, but moments like this force you back into the reality of who he is... what he is.

Taehyung calls just as your fingers itch towards the lock to wake Jimin up, shocking you out of your thoughts. 

"Good afternoon beautiful, I see you tried to call me?" He asks as soon as you answer. 

"I tried to call you a week ago asshole..." You point out rolling your eyes. 

"Well, I thought I'd give you time to get accustomed to your new lover, didn't realise you would miss me so much so quickly. Do I need to come around and teach robo boy had to keep you... satisfied,"

You can tell by the tone of his voice that he is waggling his eyebrows at the microphone. You contemplate hanging up the phone, but that won't answer any of the questions you have so you resign yourself to a little more teasing. He doesn't disappoint, wasting another few minutes on all the android puns and innuendos he can think of, some of which begrudgingly make you giggle. 

"Are you quite finished?" You ask when he finally takes a breath

He goes silent for a moment before confirming he is in fact finished.

"Wonderful, now on to the reason I called. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with him." You admit.

"Well, I'm sure I just gave you some very colourful suggestions."

"Yeah, no, I'm not at all comfortable with that. But like on a regular day-to-day basis, there are only so many things he can do. My house has never been cleaner or more organised and if I leave him charging any longer his batteries are going to break." You lament.

"Then give him a hobby. They can learn new skills reasonably quickly. Or use him for more personal matters. If you're really going to be that uptight about the sex thing then you can always do other things like massages and cuddling, they make great pillows. Also if you really intend to take him to a family function does he know anything about your family yet?" He suggests

"No, I guess not. That's a pretty good idea, I should prepare him to meet my mother. Thanks Tae," 

"You're welcome princess, I'll talk to you soon okay?" 

"See you soon," You hang up and toss the phone on the couch.

You spend the next half an hour coming up with all of the information Jimin might possibly need to know in order to survive your family.

Finally ready, and satisfied you'll have something to talk to him about, you open the latch on Jimin's pod and release him back into the world.

"Hello Y/N-ah," He smiles and his cheeks pinch up, almost erasing his eyes completely. "Are you having a good day?" He asks cheerfully.

"Yeah, I mean a pretty average day..." You answer with much less enthusiasm.

"How may I be of service to you?"

"Well, I thought we should talk about the real reason I ordered you in the first place." 

"Great, I was wondering why you had hired me. Obviously, I am thrilled to be here, but you seem uncertain." He comments.

You lead him over to the sofa and produce a notebook full of information for him to read. He flips through the pages instantly taking in the information and then waits patiently for you to speak. You relay the conversation you'd had with your mother and how it was an ongoing issue within your family. You didn't mean to go into quite as much detail as you do but you can't stop yourself from monologuing your frustration when you realise what an enraptured audience you have. 

He listens intently, offering nods and noises of affirmation in places he deems appropriate. When you do finally calm down he weighs up the information you gave him in order to relay his mission back to you.

"So, if I understood correctly, I was drunkenly purchased to serve as a boyfriend figure to appease your family at an upcoming family gathering?" He questions.

You blush at his use of the word 'drunkenly', but it's not exactly untrue. 

"Your mother sounds as if she may be the hardest to please. However, the tone you used to describe your cousins suggests that they are the people you would like to impress the most." He states as if it's obvious.

You don't remember even suggesting any of this was for their benefit. Jimin must see the confusion on your face and clarifies.

"The octave of your voice went a few notches higher, suggesting discomfort when you spoke of them and their relationships. It made it seem as though you might want to show off for them. Am I wrong in my assumption?" 

You think about it for a moment.

"I guess you aren't. It would be nice to not be labelled as the single cousin for once," You think.

"Noted. Now I think I have enough information to 'survive' your family as you have put it. But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"If I am to act in place of a partner, I should know more about you right? I don't think your family will be impressed if I only know the order of the socks in your drawer and how you like your shirts ironed," He points out as if the thought should've been obvious.

And maybe it should've been.  

"I'm not sure where to start with information about me. Normally when you date someone the information comes out naturally on dates, you know by spending time together?" 

"Then perhaps we should go on a date! That sounds like the best way for me to get to know you, and from what I know they sound like fun!"

"You can have fun?" You state, confused.

"I can experience many emotions," He nods.

"Seems like there might be a lot for me to learn about you too, maybe a date's not a bad idea after all..."

________________________________

Your date ends up being a walk around the neighbourhood. 

You show Jimin the area you live in and he listens to each anecdote you tell him as if they are the most interesting stories he has ever heard. In return he occasionally talks about aspects of human life he has thought about and researched in the time you've left him to be by himself.

You feel a little guilty for all his free time when you realise one of those emotions he can feel is boredom, but he reassures you that he finds ways to occupy himself by searching the web while he is idle, much like a human would. 

He talks about the things he has researched with such passion that you forget these interests have existed for only a few weeks and not an entire lived lifetime. 

You don't notice when his hand slips into yours as you lean towards the duck pond, your arms swinging together as you continue through the parkland around the corner from your apartment.

"So, is this a typical date activity? The articles I scanned suggested we share a meal or maybe watch something?"

"Sometimes people go to restaurants or the cinema... Dates tend to take a lot of different forms. I like this, it's low commitment." You shrug. 

"Low commitment? But we already live together, I was under the impression that was very committed" 

You blush and stutter for a response, only to turn and find him chuckling at you. 

"You're not funny," You nudge against his shoulder.

"Your clearly flustered response suggests otherwise." He notes, studying you.

"Shut up, it does not..." You grumble.

"Oh? Am I wrong? Then perhaps my programming needs an update?"

He looks puzzled that his joke didn't land and you just shake your head smiling fondly.

"Come on, I think it's time to head home I still have some work I need to complete today."

He nods and pulls you by the hand, leading you a much faster way back to the apartment that you had never seen before. 

Next

Masterlist

[radioactive-earthshine]

Truck or treat~ 🧛

Hope you have a lovely spooky night!

🧛‍♀️ A TREAT! 🎃

Here is more of the KonBart unpublished "coming back to life blues" fic.

Enjoy!

👻

Inside the barn loft was a magical place. It was for Clark when he was a teenager almost 30 years ago and it was to Kon too. Fairy lights hung on the unfinished ceiling casting them in a soft yellow glow while outside silver stars glittered. There was an old old old hide-a-bed type couch pushed against the wall that looked like it was from the 80s and it likely was. Kon wasn’t bothered by sitting on it though and he watched amusedly as Bart explored the loft. 

“Dude this place is cool! How come you never showed me this?! Hey, izzat that a telescope?!” Bart was at the window and his eye was pressed to the eyepiece before Kon registered the question. 

“Yep, belonged to Clark back when he was our age.” 

“Woah… I can see the neighbor’s farm!” Bart said with a grin but then it suddenly  fell as he pulled his face away from the telescope. “Maybe I can see a little too much of the neighbors heh. Guess no need for curtains when you’re this rural. You said this was Clark’s?” 

Kon made an awkward grimace and he did not want to think about the more creepy implications of that telescope. “I’m sure he was looking at the stars, Bart.” 

“Do you think you can see Krypton’s star?” Bart suddenly asked as he sat next to Kon, the couch was worn down from decades of use and he fell a little deeper into the couch than he expected but righted himself almost instantly. 

“Krypton’s star?” Kon repeated and he looked out the window towards the dark. “I’m not sure.” 

“Well Krypton was from our galaxy so you might be able to find its star. Do you think that’s why Clark has the telescope? Was he looking for where he came from?” 

“That’s… a good question. I really don’t know,” Kon admitted and he thought about Clark. He thought about him at his age, feeling alone and scared of his forming abilities, knowing he wasn’t human but also feeling so connected to humanity because it was the only thing he knew. He imagined him worrying if he was a threat, if he was always going to be loved, if he was going to be rejected the second he was found out that he was an alien, and finally he imagined him looking through that telescope to see if he could find something to latch onto to make it all make sense. 

Kon wondered if while Clark had all those feelings did he also feel guilty about having them because he was loved. 

“You asked me how I just accepted not feeling like I belonged.” Bart’s voice carved Kon away from his thoughts. 

“Yeah,” Kon sighed. “Out of all my issues being a clone and all the shit-terrific things I’ve been through, I never felt like I didn’t belong here. How did you do it?” 

Bart stared out that window as he answered him and his voice was weighted. “I admit, it never really bothered me. I always knew that no matter what, I’d be the speedster that just didn’t fit with the others. I’m not supposed to be here Kon, I was born one thousand years in the future to two families that should never have met, and I should have died twice before even coming here! I’m like a red sprite in a lightning storm. I’m an anomaly that just showed up that people had to deal with. I’m weird and because of that I am never going to belong, really. No matter what I do, no matter how much I try to conform, even if I read the entire contents of the San Francisco Library will I make myself fit better.” 

“So that’s why you-” 

Bart cut him off with a wave of his hand. “It didn’t bother me until I started seeing people not believe in me. I got tired of people thinking I was stupid and I tried to make myself be someone they all wanted me to be and I’ll be honest, it fucking sucked!” 

Kon suddenly felt guilty for all the times he called him an ‘idiot’ or a ‘nimrod’, but before he could even try to apologize Bart kept talking. “When you died Kon, it really made my whole earth shake, you know? It made me really start thinking about myself, where I wanted to be, who I was and then… BAM, there I am dead as dead can get too. Well, for a speedster anyway.”  “Being dead sucks by the way,” Kon revealed even though he didn’t remember much of anything. Only a vague feeling of contentment and loneliness.

[hbyrde36]

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 4

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 ao3 link

*Eddie - 1986*

“You wanna tell me about your little visit to the Harrington place last night?” Hopper asked, arms crossing over his chest.

Eddie looked down at the clothes in his hand, he’d clearly been caught red handed, but he couldn’t just admit to it, could he?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eddie deadpanned.

“Seriously? Don’t give me that shit, Munson!” 

“Jim..” Wayne said. A clear note of warning in his voice.

Eddie grinned. “You gonna arrest me, Hop?” 

The chief sighed heavily. “You steal anything?”

“No” Well, unless you count an outdated catalog and a dead boy’s jacket..

Hopper nodded to himself, as if he had known that already but still had to ask. “No. I'm not here to arrest you, but you can’t go around doing shit like this, It’s not safe!” Eddie couldn’t help but notice Hopper sharing a quick, but very loaded look with Wayne, before he continued. Weird. “What were you doing there?”

Eddie glanced at the kids, who were still sulking and looking everywhere but at him.

“Don’t look at them, I asked you a question.” Hopper snapped.

“If I'm not under arrest, I don’t see why I have to answer you.”

Apparently, Wayne had had enough. “Boy, if you don't start talking, I’M gonna put you in handcuffs.” He said, raising his voice to a level Eddie hadn't heard before. 

“Okay, fine! It’s not a big deal. I knew the house was empty and I thought I'd check it out. That’s all, I was just curious.”

“Right. So you weren’t off on some vigilante mission to solve the Harrington kid’s disappearance?’

Eddie whipped his head around to look at the kids. So that’s why they were sulking. Fucking traitors spilled the beans. 

“If you already knew then why pull the whole cop routine?”

Hopper pinched the bridge of his nose, mouthing along as he silently counted to ten. “Do you think the feds havn’t scoured every inch of that place? Looked into every possible scenario?”

Eddie shrugged. “They didn’t talk to Nancy Wheeler.”

“Why would they talk to her?”

“Oh, I don't know.” Eddie began, tone absolutely dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe because they dated only a couple months before he went missing? Don’t you find that odd, Chief?”

Hopper sighed again, all of his hardass pretense falling away. “Maybe, kid, but it's out of my hands.”

He picked up his hat off the coffee table and moved towards the door, pausing for a moment with his hand resting on the latch. “They really never talked to her?” Hopper asked, turning again to face the room.

“No, she told us herself when we interviewed her.” Dustin helpfully supplied.

“Jesus christ.” Hopper breathed. “This ends now, you hear me? I don’t want to see any of you poking around where you don’t belong. If that boy is still out there somewhere, well, we’re just going to have to trust that the government will find him. The rest of us will just have to wait and see.” 

With that, he finally took off. Leaving Eddie to deal with his uncle and the boys alone..

Eddie shuffled his feet. It was one thing to mess around with the chief, but he loved his uncle and he didn't like disappointing him.

“Wayne, I'm sorry. I..”

“We’ll talk later. Ok, son?” Wayne interrupted, but not unkindly. “I gotta get a few hours of sleep in me before I can deal with this.” He didn’t wait for a response, just set off in the direction of his room.

Eddie rounded on the boys, ready to start pointing fingers. “What were you guys thinking? Why would you tell Hopper about our investigation?” Jesus, he sounded just like them now. Investigation, pfft.

“He cornered us this morning at Will’s!” Mike said, defensively.

“Yeah! Come on, Eddie. You know he’s dating my mom now. What were we supposed to do? He had your vest!” Will pleaded.

“Maybe if you had told us what you were doing we could have thought up an excuse.” Mike accused.

“Alright, alright. It's fine. I’m not mad. Just, I guess that’s it then.”

“What?! We can’t give up now!” Dustin argued.

“Yea, forget Hopper. Did you find anything last night?” Lucas asked eagerly.

Eddie thought of Steve’s room, and the items he had safely tucked away in his own. He didn’t like lying to the kids, but there was no way they’d drop this thing if he told them. It was all too weird. Even if he had no intention of listening to Hopper himself, he could at least keep the kids out of it. 

“No, nothing. Place was empty.”

All of them but Dustin groaned in unison, murmuring some form of ‘got in trouble for nothing’ and ‘waste of time’. 

“Come on, i’ll drive you little shits home” Eddie offered, motioning them all to the door. The least he could do was get the kids out of the house so his uncle could get a good day's sleep. 

Unsurprisingly, the boys were able to convince him to take them to the diner before shuttling them home. It was an easy sell since he hadn’t had any coffee or breakfast yet that day. Dustin was subdued, which should have been Eddie’s first clue that something was up, but he was too lost in his own ruminations to think anything of it.

Later, once the others had been dropped off, Dustin cleared his throat loudly from the passenger seat. He was staring daggers into the side of Eddie’s head. 

“What??”

“Are you gonna tell me what you really found at Steve’s, or are you gonna try and lie to me again?” Dustin spat.

Eddie scowled but didn't even try to argue, just turned the van around and drove them back towards the trailer park. He should have known Dustin would see right through him. Not only were they cousins, they were also best friends. Maybe if he begged, the kid wouldn’t tell the others. 

The pair quietly slipped into Eddie's room, careful not to make too much noise and wake up Wayne. Once inside, Eddie softly told Dustin the whole story, pulling out the catalog, the jacket, and finally the photo from his wallet.

“I don’t know what any of it means but..” Eddie trailed off.

“It’s weird.” Dustin added, finishing the sentence for him. 

A few beats of silence went by between them, where Dustin kept looking from the jacket, emblazoned with the name Harrington across the back in big bold letters, to Eddie’s face. The kid’s mouth was screwed up in the way it always did when he was on the verge of figuring something out, like a particularly difficult homework assignment, or the best way to defeat an opponent in combat. 

“Did you.. like Steve?” Dustin asked.

Eddie tensed. It was the last thing he was expecting, so even as he tried to play it off, he knew it wouldn’t be convincing. “Sure, like I said, he was an okay guy.”

Of course Dustin didn’t buy it, or let it go. “No, I mean, did you have like, a crush on him or something?”

Eddie made a high strangled noise in his throat, which Dustin didn’t seem to notice. 

“It's just, I couldn’t help noticing how your face got when Nancy talked about him yesterday, and I mean, taking this?” Dustin lifted the jacket up between them as if it were a damning piece of evidence in a murder trial.

Eddie paled. “Dustin, you can't just ask people shit like that. It’s not..it’s not safe to be openly different, and if someone wants you to know, that, about themselves, they will tell you when they’re ready.”

Dustin's face fell. “Shit. I'm sorry.” It sounded like he meant it, as it the gravity of what he’d implied by asking had just occurred to him. 

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean any harm by it. I do trust you, Dusty, it's just that you’re a kid still.” 

“I would never tell anyone, cross my heart.”

“I know.”

“Does that mean..?”

“Yea, buddy. I’m…gay. Wayne knows. He's the only person I ever told. He’s good with it.”

Dustin lurched forward, hugging Eddie around the middle. “Thanks for telling me.”

”You’re welcome.” Eddie chuckled, as if the kid had given him a choice. He had always thought Dustin would be okay with who he was, he just hadn’t been quite ready to go there yet. Now though, he was glad. He felt lighter, happy that another important person in his life knew the full truth of him.  

“So, Steve huh?” Dustin asked, smirking.

“Oh, shut up man!” Eddie groaned, picking up the nearest pillow and flinging it in Dustin's face. The two of them immediately dissolved into hysterical laughter. 

They must have been a little too loud because Wayne came knocking a few minutes later.

“You boys hungry?” He asked, pushing the door open a little.

Eddie quickly shoved Steve’s jacket behind his back. Not suspiciously at all. “I thought you had to work tonight?”

“I called out, figured I should keep an eye on you tonight after this morning’s debacle.” Wayne answered.

“You don’t have to babysit me, I won’t do it again, I swear.” Eddie begged, mortified at being treated like a nine year old. 

Wayne raised his eyebrows. “Dusty, if you’re going to stay you better go call your mom. Ed and I need to have a little talk. 

Dustin didn’t need to be told twice, and all but sprinted out of the room.

Wayne stepped further inside and shut the door, leaning against it. 

“I’m sorry Wayne, I swear I wasn’t breaking-in, breaking in. I was just curious and the kids talked me into it and..”

“I know, okay? And I’m not mad. I’m not thrilled that you were out there sneaking into someone's house like a common criminal, but I know you weren’t looking to steal anything. I’m sure it’s been hard, and I know you're curious about what happened to that boy but…I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to do anything to draw attention to yourself.”

“Have you met me?”

“Yes, Ed. I have, and that's sort of what I'm getting at here. You already go around looking all flashy like you do with the hair and the chains and what-no, and you know I'd never tell you to not be yourself, but there's bad people out there. I just worry about you, is all.” 

Oh. Is that what this was about? Was uncle Wayne worried he was going to be gaybashed in jail or something if Hopper hadn’t let him off with a warning?

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but please be more careful.”

-

When school started up again on Monday Eddie arrived at his locker to find Dustin already waiting for him. The younger boy shoved a paper under his nose as he worked the combination lock.

“What am I looking at here?” Eddie asked, squinting at the too-close writing.

“I made a list, places Steve used to frequent.”

Eddie sighed, wrenching the locker door open and swapping out textbooks. “Like what?”

“Well school, obviously, but more specifically his locker, the gym, and the pool. Also, and these came from Nancy, the drive in, Enzo’s, skull rock, and the junkyard, weirdly.

“So, here, three make out or date places, and the junkyard? This is…not a lot to go on.”

Dustin shrugged. “That's all I've got for now, I'll let you know if I come up with anything else.”

“No, you won't.” Eddie said, shoving a finger into his cousin’s chest. “You and the rest of the party are officially staying out of this from now on. I'll let you know what I find out but that’s all.” He snatched the paper out of Dustin's hands and stalked off down the hall before the kid could argue.

The locker was a good idea, but Eddie already knew it was a bust. Steve’s locker had only been a few down from Eddie’s own, and he knew it had been given to someone else last year. Maybe he could ask the ladies in the office what happened to all the stuff that must have been in there, or check the lost and found.

He looked down at the list, thinking, as he stepped around a corner and almost barreled right into Chrissy Cunningham. He stopped himself in time but she still jumped back, startled, and he had to grab her by the shoulders to keep her steady. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You okay?” He asked, looking her over.

“I’m fine!” She said, laughing and pressing a hand to her chest. “And wide awake now, so actually I should thank you for that. I hate mondays.”

“Happy to be of service.” Eddie said, grinning.

He’d always liked Chrissy. She was sweet and kind, unlike her other cheerleader counterparts. Much like he and Steve, they weren’t quite friends, but sometimes they would talk. She treated him like a person, not the freak everyone else thought he was. The comparison gave Eddie an idea. 

“Hey, this might be a weird thing to ask, but were you friends with Steve Harrington at all?”

“Only a little, but we ran in the same circles, and we were neighbors. Why do you ask?” She said, tilting her head to the side.

The bell rang and suddenly Eddie noticed that the hall around them had emptied out. 

“Shit, sorry to make you late. Do you think we could talk later and I'll explain?” Eddie asked.

“Sure! Do you want to meet me in the library for lunch?”

“It’s a date” He said, with an exaggerated wink.

*Steve - 1984/1985*

Steve woke up in incredible pain. His back felt raw and he winced as every small movement he made pulled at the many stitches he could feel in the skin back there. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking into the bright light. The first thing he noticed was that he was in the infirmary in a hospital bed. He had mopped the floor in here during his cleaning duties so it was familiar enough. The second thing was El, asleep in a chair right next to his bed. 

He smiled, overwhelmed with happiness that they had both survived, and grateful that she was right there where he could see her breathing and alive. He didn’t want to wake her but he hoped someone would come by soon to check on him. He was in desperate need of more pain medication.

As if on cue, Owens came strolling around the divider curtain seconds later.

“Good to see you awake, Mr. Harrington. How are we feeling? Any pain?” He kept his voice low, perhaps also not wanting to wake the girl who had so recently saved all of their lives.

“Just a little.” Steve breathed.

Owens offered him a small smile. “Of course. I’ll have someone bring you the good stuff in a minute.”

“How long was I out?” Steve asked. 

“Not long, a day. We had to give you some blood, and a lot of stitches. There’s no sign of infection, though we’ll have to keep an eye on you for a few more days. Other than the pain in your back, how do you feel?”

“Fine, uh, normal I guess. Why? Should I not feel normal?”

“Well, you have the distinct honor of being the first person we know of to be injured by one of those things, but not killed. We couldn't be sure that there wouldn’t be side effects, but so far so good.”

Steve decided to not think about that little tidbit of information. “How is she?” He asked, tilting his head in El’s direction. 

“Tired, but fine. Worried about you. She’ll be happy to see you awake.”

Shortly after Owens stepped away, the nurse, a woman Steve had never seen before, came by and pushed something through his IV. Before long, his pain level evened out enough that he could finally think straight. He reached out and smoothed a hand over El’s where it rested on the edge of his bed. 

She was instantly alert, eyes snapping to Steve’s so quickly it made him laugh. The smile she gave him then was bright, something he hadn’t seen since before they’d been caught. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, searching her face. She did look exhausted, with deep bruises under her eyes.

“You are the one in the bed hooked up to machines.” She pointed out.

“Right. I’m okay, I promise.”

“If I had been stronger, quicker, you would not have been hurt.”

“Sweetie, no. Don’t do that to yourself. Not everything is your fault. You did amazing and I'm so proud of you. If those dogs had gotten out and into Hawkins, I.. there's still some people out there I care about, and you saved them. You saved all of us.”

“It is my fault they were able to get through in the first place.”

He shook his head. “It’s not. That asshole Brenner...”

“No Steve, you do not understand. I’m afraid you won’t love me anymore once you find out, but I have to tell you something.”

He gripped her hand tightly but stayed quiet. He wanted to reassure her immediately that there was nothing she could do that he wouldn't forgive, but he knew whatever this was was eating her up inside, and she wouldn't accept his words until he’d heard her out. 

“There was a man here when I was little, who worked for Papa. He was nice to me, and said we were alike. He said he wanted to help me become stronger. He was..” She paused, turning her wrist over in Steve's grip and running a finger over her tattoo. “One. Papa had put something inside him to stop his powers, but he tricked me into helping remove it. He killed the guards. I thought we were just going to escape but then he started killing the others. I tried to stop him, but I was too late to save them.” El cried as she spoke, gently pulling her hand out of his to wipe at her eyes.

Steve’s chest squeezed in sympathy as he watched and listened. Distantly, he was also furious at Brenner. He had no doubt the person she spoke of was the Henry from the doctor’s story. How dare he take an event that had so clearly traumatized this poor girl, and frame it in such a way to make Steve doubt her? It was despicable, much like everything else that happened in this god-forsaken place. He had to get them out of here. 

El sniffled and continued. “We fought. I don’t know how I did it, but I sent him through to the place where those creatures live. I killed him, Steve. I am a monster.” Her tears turned to sobs that wracked her small frame. His heart broke.

Steve sat up, it was excruciating and he was almost positive he pulled more than one stitch, but nothing was going to stop him from comforting her in that moment. He wrapped an arm around her as best he could and squeezed.  

“You’re not a monster. He was hurting people, you were defending yourself. You’re allowed to do that. You’ve been saving the world your whole life, haven't you?.” 

The last bit earned him a weak grin, and that was worth all the pain and more.

The story about One answered some questions that had been bothering Steve since their arrival. It made more sense now, why El felt so strongly that all of this mess with the creatures and the gates to another world was her fault. Although, he still very much disagreed with her on that point. It also explained where all the other children had gone. He had hoped for a happier ending, one where the kids had been let go and reunited with their families. It was an unlikely fantasy, he knew, but this truth was so much worse than he could have guessed. Steve would have wondered at the man’s motives, but he was dead. What would be the point? 

-

It seemed that Steve’s heroics in the basement of the lab had earned him a good amount of respect with the various scientists, doctors, and orderlies. He was even granted a bit of freedom once he was released from the infirmary. The door to his room was now locked only at night, though he was still confined to his floor. He was also, surprisingly, allowed to have the improvised weapon he’d used to keep the monsters at bay. He’d been shocked upon arriving back at his room to find the baseball bat leaning against the desk, its end stained with dried black blood. 

He was healing nicely, but wasn’t permitted to resume his work for a while. His new unfettered access to the rainbow room provided him a good amount of distraction, as did the increased time with his sister. Following the battle with the dogs, Owens had started letting Steve sit in on his sessions with El. Brenner didn’t like it, and certainly wasn’t about to offer the same, but it seemed that the two lead doctors held complete control over their respective parts of this fucked up project.

Against his better judgment, Steve was beginning to like Doctor Owens, trust him even, if only a little. He treated Eleven like a human being, like the child she was, and not like the science experiment Brenner did. 

-

By Summer 1985, Steve was back to work cleaning, and of course continuing to secretly map out the facility. He was glad to be busy again, but he'd been feeling rather miserable lately. After months of seeing Eleven for hours daily, suddenly several days would pass without him seeing her at all. She promised that everything was okay, but wouldn’t tell him what she was so busy with. That alone would be enough to put him in a bad mood, but he was also just so hot and uncomfortable all the time. He knew it was Summer, but you’d think an operation of this size would be able to afford decent air conditioning. He tried not to be grumpy about it when they did get to spend time together, but he thinks El noticed.

-

Eleven was late and Steve was annoyed. He’d finally convinced an orderly to give him a calendar and today was the 4th of july. Not the most important of holidays, but he’d still wanted to spend it with her. Even if they couldn’t eat hotdogs and watch fireworks. 

No matter how much he tells himself to calm down, Steve can feel himself getting agitated. Figuring that sitting still isn’t doing him much good, he decided to pace the halls, eventually waving his hands in front of one of the cameras like a maniac until someone finally noticed him. 

The elevator dinged a few feet away from where he was standing. The doors opened a second later to reveal Doc Owens. “Steve, I think you’d better come with me.”

-

Steve had never been in this part of the building before, the place where Eleven worked with Dr. Brenner. In the middle of the room was a large tank full of water, and he could see her floating in the center of it. He’d been warned to keep quiet, until she was done. Something about ruining her concentration. He would have listened, if El hadn’t started thrashing in the water the minute he arrived. 

Before anyone could stop him, Steve threw himself in the tank, and cradled her in his arms. She came out of her trance with a loud gasp, looking up at him with wide terrified eyes. “It’s inside you. That place, it’s inside you, Steve.”

“It’s as we suspected then. We’ll have to lock him up until we know more about the.. Infection.” Brenner was speaking to the other Doctor but his voice carried in the wide empty room.

Eleven rose in the water, moving to stand between Steve and the rest of the onlookers. “No! I won’t let you do that to him.”

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, torn between being scared at what the she had just said to him and aggravated that he had no idea what was happening.

“Let’s get you both out of there and dried off. Then we’ll talk.” Owens offered, waving the few guards that had gathered off, as he and Dr Brenner approached. “Just talk.” He added, glaring at his colleague.

Not having any choice, Steve and El climbed out. She allowed a woman to wrap her in a thick robe, but Steve declined, the air on his wet skin felt good after being so warm all day. 

“We’ve begun to think recently that something might have been left behind when you were scratched by the creature.” Brenner began.

“But it’s been months, and I'm fine!” Steve argued, taken aback.

“It’s complicated to explain.”

“Try anyway.” Steve said, through gritted teeth.

“There's a lot more going on here than just what we do in this lab.”

“I’m not an idiot!” Steve snapped, “and since you're all telling me there’s something related to those, things, inside me, I'd like to know what’s going on!”

Owens raised his hands in a placating gesture. “We’ll tell you what we can, but you have to stay calm.”

“I’m fine!” Steve shouted. 

The two doctors shared a look, which only pissed him off further, but he wisely kept his mouth shut this time.

“We’ve been seeing signs, and readings, that lead us to believe that somewhere nearby, someone is trying to open a gate to the other dimension. Now, we know the Russians have been working on a secret technology for years. Something that could, in theory, emit enough energy to break through the wall between that other world and our own. We’ve also discovered through wire tapping that the new mall in town is actually owned by a Russian organization who bought it through a shadow company. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“Russians? In Hawkins?” Steve muttered, utterly confused at the turn this conversation had taken.

“What’s a mall?” El asked, quietly. He smiled at her and made a mental note to talk to her about it later. 

Steve returned his attention to the two men and asked the important question. “What does that have to do with me?”

“There seems to be a correlation between the elevated readings and your irritable temperament.” Brenner supplied, unhelpfully.

Steve looked at Owens, hoping for a simplified translation. “Every time someone tries to access the other dimension, you get.. cranky. Here, I’ll show you.”

The doctor turned, bringing their attention to a nearby monitor. He popped a small tape in the machine next to it, and Steve watched in horror as his own image filled the screen. It’s a video of him, alone in his room. He was pacing and yelling, though they couldn’t hear what he was saying. He repeatedly banged on the door. Steve would have thought it was an old video, from when they first got here, if not for the scars that could be seen clearly on his bare back. There were also black lines running up and down his body like veins, shifting and moving under his skin. Steve had absolutely no memory of this. After a few minutes, two orderlies arrived. As the on-screen Steve threw the first punch at them, Owens paused the video. 

“Lock me up. Now.” Steve said, immediately and without hesitation.

“No!” Eleven cried.

He understood why she was defending him, appreciated it even, but this wasn’t up for debate, not after what he just saw. “I could hurt you. I won’t risk that.”

-

Steve wasn't taken back to his own room like he assumed he would be. Instead, he was escorted to a much smaller room with a bare tile floor and a solid metal door. There was no bed, just walls and a floor. Brenner assured him as he locked him inside, that they would do everything they could to figure out how to help him. He doesn’t know if he believes that, but he doesn't have any other choice.

Timing was a funny thing, Steve thought as he stared at the ceiling from his seat on the hard floor. No more than a few hours after being locked inside the room, he started to feel it happen. Like someone was whispering in his mind, he could feel a presence there. Something that didn’t belong, something that wasn’t himself. His arms broke out in goosebumps, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

He got up, knocking on the room’s door, praying someone was around to hear him. He peered through the small glass window until a face swam into view. Owens.

“Something’s happening.” He shouted through the door. 

Steve didn’t like the answering look he received from the man.

“I know. We’re handling it.” Owens said, after a long pause.

“What do you mean?” 

“Listen, Steve, I'm sorry but I can’t tell you.”

“What, why?”

“One of the things we’ve learned through all this, is that entities from that other dimension are connected. It’s called a hive mind, and if you’re contaminated with it, then you might unwittingly give our plans away.”

Steve felt the blood drain from his face. It was a terrifying thought, that he might be controlled by the same force that directed those creatures.

“You really have no idea how to get it out of me?”

Owens' lips fell into a thin line, expression pained. He was definitely holding something back.

“You do have an idea. Tell me” Steve begged.

The doctor shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

Steve groaned. “Staying like this is too dangerous, you saw that tape!”

“It could kill you.”

“You’ll have to kill me anyway if we don’t fix this.” Steve said, knowing with absolute certainty that he was right. Confirmed by the fact that Owens didn’t argue.

“This thing, it doesn’t like the heat. I think maybe we could burn it out of you. It’s like a virus and you're the host. If we make the environment less hospitable, it would be forced to leave or die.” 

“Do it.”

For better or worse, Steve doesn’t remember a whole lot of what happened after that. They forced heat in through the vents of the room. He remembered beginning to sweat, and getting increasingly angry. He started losing chunks of time, little by little, before finally slipping away completely. 

-

This time when Steve wakes in the infirmary, there's another bed set up on the other side of the room. He felt severely dehydrated but wasn’t really in any pain, thankfully. The relief for his own situation dissolved quickly, as he realized the figure lying in the other bed was Eleven. 

Steve yanked the IV out of his arm and swung his legs off the bed in one fluid motion. He was a little wobbly on his feet, but managed to make it to her side without falling over. There was a chair nearby and he sank into it gratefully, ready to sit there all day holding her hand until she woke up.

After a while, he started to talk softly to her as she slept. Nothing too important, just memories of growing up, stories about school friends, basketball games, field trips, etc. He rambled on, needing to fill the silence with something so he didn’t go crazy with worry.

He was so focused on recounting a particularly fond memory of a certain dark curly-haired classmate, that he almost missed it when her eyes finally blinked open. 

“Who’s Eddie?” She asked, voice hoarse. 

Steve laughed wetly, bending down to hug her. 

“Thank god you’re awake. I was so worried. What happened? The last thing I remember is being locked in that room.”

“Papa took me to that place.”

“The mall?”

“Yes. It was pretty on the outside but I did not like the elevator. Papa said the people there opened a gate and I had to close it.”

Oh god, he couldn’t believe Brenner took her to that place while he’d been locked away. Anything could have happened to her. “Sweetie, you can’t keep doing this. One of these times it’s going to be too much. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I had to. I thought it would help you.”

“El..” He didn’t like her putting herself in danger for him. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t worth it, but she wouldn’t let him.

“And I have been seeing a new creature. There's only one but it is huge. Like a giant spider made of black smoke. I could not let something like that out.”

He understood that she felt like she had to help, but he’d had about enough of these people letting one little girl carry the weight of the world on her shoulders alone. “You should have let them solve their own problems for once. You were outside, you could have run while they were busy and gotten away again.”

“Not without you” She disagreed.

“It might have been your only chance.”

“No. We will find a way, together. I know it.”

Chapter 5

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