#if there’s anything that’s…off then hey dialogue is always welcome

[wheeboo]

mine | joshua hong

SYNOPSIS. in which joshua is the best thing that's ever been... yours. PAIRING. joshua hong x gn!reader (ft. cheol, jeonghan, soonyoung, mingyu, chan - they don't rlly have dialogue tho lol) GENRE. fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, established relationship WARNINGS. a very very brief shirtless joshua moment LMAO, implications of reader having a toxic ex, mentions that reader's parents have a rocky relationship and separate, kissing, terms of endearment, reader and joshua have a lil argument WORD COUNT. 3.6k

requested from @staranghae: joshua + mine by taylor swift for the 2k followers event please 🩷🎀

notes: i am fluent in this song!!!! whenever my love playlist comes on and this plays i literally scream lungs out!!! and shua fits this vibe so much <3

join the 2k celebration!

ONE. "i was a flight risk, with a fear of falling / wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts..."

Maybe you've always underestimated how the feeling of fresh air hitting your lungs makes you feel so replenished, free, like a single whiff blows away those gusts of worry in an instant.

Your fingers carry a tight, secure grip on Seungcheol's surfboard𑁋you volunteered to carry it for him so he could unload the other things from the van𑁋soft sand meeting your toes the second you step onto the beach for the first time of the summer season. Salty air tingles at your nose, the late afternoon sun baring down on your shoulders, and the expanse of the ocean opens up right before your eyes.

This place had basically watched you grow up. It carries a lot of memories that you hold dear to your heart.

You see Soonyoung already digging into the sand with an abnormally large stick, and Mingyu carrying a bunch of firewood in his arms before dropping them down onto the ground (and accidentally one on his foot, but you won't say anything about that).

However, your eyes drift and land on a figure running up from the beach shore. His dark hair is wet and sticking to his forehead, chest and arms revealed in all its glory before quickly covered up by a white, somewhat lacy button-down shirt that still doesn't do much in concealing the muscles underneath. For a moment, you nearly loose the grip on Seungcheol's surfboard.

Joshua Hong seems to spot you from even a mile away. He's running up to you before you even have the minute to breathe, a grin splitting his face that's as warm as the setting sun. Sand clings to his damp flip-flops and the hem of his black shorts as he nearly skids to a halt in front of you, chest heaving and out of breath. His shirt isn't even buttoned, dammit.

"Hey," he greets you breathlessly, letting his eyes take you in for a second. "Glad you could make it."

A soft smile of your own blooms on your face. "It's good to see you too, asshole."

A flicker of feigned hurt plays across Joshua's features. "Come on. That was so two years ago! I didn't want to push you in the water. You should know that by now."

"Wow, you care so much about me, don't you?" You nearly swing Seungcheol's surfboard playfully in his direction. "You listen to Jeonghan more than your own little brain."

"I swear, it's changed. Everything's changed since then," Joshua reasons lightly. "You have my ears for the entire night, I promise."

His words hang in the air for a moment, and there's perhaps a sliver of fondness in his eyes that you catch when your gazes meet. You feel a certain warmth spread through your chest that you try so hard to ignore each time he's around you.

You brush it off with a roll of your eyes before strolling past him, hoping that Seungcheol's surfboard was enough to cover up the slight flush creeping up your cheeks. The smile to your face still lingers as you walk towards to where Soonyoung and Mingyu are, whom dash up to you the moment they see you to engulf you in a welcoming hug.

Mingyu is almost done setting up the bonfire by the time you and Seungcheol bring all the food and supplies from the van. Jeonghan and Chan had arrived by the time the fire is lit up and crackling, casting a warm, inviting glow on the beach scene. And it isn't long when the yearly traditions of a group bonfire and beachside barbecue commence.

The smell of grilled food fills the air, mixing with the salty breeze and the crackle of the fire. And just for those moments, you forget these fuzzy feelings swirling around you as familiar laughter and camaraderie take over instead.

You've known all of your friends for different amounts of times, but being here with all of them makes it feel like time hasn't passed by at all. Inside jokes are exchanged, memories from as far as childhood resurface, and stories are told that leave you all doubled over with laughter (and Soonyoung nearly choking on a marshmallow).

It's almost natural in the way your eyes seem to search for Joshua's every single time that feeling of happiness threatens to overflow within you. The fire flickers upon his face, his eyes crinkled deeply when he smiles. Happiness looks good on him, you think. It always has.

...does his eyes search for yours too?

By the time the fire dies down, you find yourself sitting near the edge of the beach, with your legs stretched on the sand and the waves barely lapping against your feet. Seungcheol and Mingyu are already out on the ocean on their surfboards, then there's Chan and Soonyoung struggling to get their sandcastle to stay up, and Jeonghan is already knocked out on a beach towel. It's just you, and wherever the hell Joshua is.

"Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

The voice snaps you away from your thoughts, and you pick your head up to see Joshua walking up to you. A cool breeze flows through his strands of his hair as he approaches.

You blink at him. "What?"

He sits down beside you on the sand, close enough that the warmth of his body brushes against yours. "You were too quiet earlier."

You face back towards the water, cowering your head down as if guilty of some sorts.

"Oh," You murmur, somewhat to yourself. "Sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Joshua asks, nudging you lightly on the shoulder. "I told you earlier that I would be all ears for you."

You smile faintly at that. Would you still be all ears if I told you that I've been such a coward with my feelings for you?

"It's... just boy problems, I guess," You respond, though you feel a twinge of regret for wording it like that. It's more than just simply boy problems.

Joshua's jaw seems to tighten at that. "Did that jerk contact you again?"

You know who exactly he's talking about, and you let out a sigh. "No, not him. I... I blocked him a few months ago when he tried spam calling me again. Sort of gave me a good scare, to be honest."

At the corner of your eye, Joshua's hand digs aimlessly into the sand, clenching and unclenching a fistful before smoothing it out again.

"I'm glad you're okay," he says softly, gaze fixed on the grains of sand slipping through his fingers. "You deserve someone way better than him."

You chuckle at that, and a bittersweet pang shoots through your chest. It's true, you deserve better. But really, the problem isn't just jerks and bad relationships. It's the thought of falling for someone again and it all comes crashing down... again.

But it's not like you could hold back from falling when you've already fallen. The truth is undeniable at this point𑁋your heart already beats a little faster for the boy right next to you.

"Guys! Look at the sunset!" Chan's voice rings out into the cool, evening air, pointing an excited finger towards the horizon.

Simultaneously, you and Joshua bring your eyes up tot the sky together. The last rays of the sun are painting the sky in a breathtaking display of fiery oranges, pinks, and purples, like a fleeting masterpiece before nightfall takes hold.

"Wow," You mutter out in awe. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Joshua cocks his head to the side, a low hum leaving his lips. "Hmm, I could think of something more beautiful than that, honestly."

You scoff, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "You ruined the sentimental moment, idiot."

Joshua lets out an amused laugh, a sound that sends those flutters blossoming in your stomach, one you haven't realised you've missed until this very moment. A small giggle of your own escapes your mouth as you bring your eyes back to the sunset together.

Then a low yawn stifles out of you. Maybe everything that has happened the past few hours are finally catching up to you. You let out another yawn, hoping Joshua doesn't notice. But of course, he does.

"Getting tired?" he asks you.

You give a small nod. "Just a little."

A few moment pass, before you feel an arm drape casually over your shoulders. The scent of Joshua and his warmth seeps within your bones. You almost want to protest, but the words get caught in your throat, and you lean your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

Perhaps you could spend a long time staying in this position and hope the silence is able to spill all the words you've been meaning to say for all this time, but you know it's easier said than done. Because what's the point of confessing anymore if you know it won't ever last? That you know it'll ruin everything you've built up to get this far?

You've seen it happen around you𑁋with you, your parents, hell even strangers online. It's taught you nothing but to run. That's what your mind tells you to do, but not your heart. And maybe you listen to your mind more often than not.

"Yo, Josh!" Mingyu's voice hollers out from the ocean, and you feel a certain pressure be lifted up from your head (when did he lay his head on yours?) as you catch the sight of Seungcheol and Mingyu motioning to their surfboards. "Wanna hop on?"

Joshua briefly glances down at you, and you meet his gaze, seeing the indecision in his features.

"I don't mind," You tell him. "I'll be fine here."

He hesitates. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me." You pick your head off from his shoulders. "Go have your boy-fun."

Joshua gives you a small smile, though there's a hint of reluctance in his expression. He shouts back to Mingyu and Seungcheol before standing up and brushing the sand off his shorts. You could hardly pull your eyes away from him as he does so.

He starts trotting away as you face back toward the ocean with a sigh, relinquishing the moments you get to have to gather up your thoughts.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You pick your eyes back up to Joshua marching back towards you. He stops in front of you, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You look beautiful today, by the way." Then he gives shoots you a wink before turning back around. "Just wanted you to know."

The kiss you leave to his cheek later on was really worth the risk.

TWO. "you learn my secrets and you figure out why i'm guarded / you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes..."

A picture frame of a four-year-old Joshua is staring back at you. He still has that same silly grin on his face, the one that has his own eyes smiling as well and makes your heart feel lighter every time you look at it. You reach out to touch the frame, tracing the outline of his little face with your fingertip.

Sometimes, you wish you could experience what he was like at this time𑁋to grow up with him, to know what exactly led him to meeting you. But then again, he's already here with you now, and maybe that's all that matters.

"All ready for bed?" Joshua's voice popping in makes you swiftly place back the picture frame back on his desk. You turn around to see him leaning against the doorway with a soft smile playing on his lips, clad with a simple white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Mhm," You hum out in response as you settle back under the covers of his bed.

It isn't the first night you've spent with him at his place, but you seem to seek the feeling of his comfort more often than sleeping in your own bed. Jeonghan has been kind of nagging you the two of you to move in together at this point, but that's a leap you're a bit hesitant to jump right now. But the drawer of your own clothes in his wardrobe is a bit of an argument that's hard to defend.

Joshua crawls his way into the spot right next to you, slipping under the duvet and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you more into his embrace. You feel his breath meet the nape of your neck, warm and soothing against your skin, and your eyes flutter to the feeling.

You shift your position so that you're facing him. His eyes are already closed, lips pursed up slightly, and even then he still looks absolutely stunning. But you know he isn't asleep. Not yet, at least.

"My parents had uh... another argument today," You confess lowly, hesitantly.

Joshua's eyes open up slightly, adjusting his head so he can look at you better. A faint crease of concern appears between his brows, the arm around you tightening imperceptibly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You bite at your bottom lip anxiously. There are times you feel as if the only thing that could get you talking is always something revolving your parents, and you wonder if Joshua ever gets tired hearing about all of it. The thought courses insecurity to crawl in your veins, tightening your throat.

But Joshua's patient gaze towards you cuts through the uncertainty bubbling in your chest.

"Just same old, same old, you know?" You attempt to explain. "It just feels like they can't see eye-to-eye anymore. There's like... I don't know... nothing left between them, I guess. And it scares me that... it'll happen to us."

The last sentence suspends thickly into the air. Even then, you know it's more than the truth𑁋you've grown up witnessing and overhearing arguments from your parents that laid down this pessimistic view on the world around you.

You could feel your heart racing from all the anticipation. There's a wave of emotions that washes over Joshua's face, then he takes a deep breath and squeezes you tighter in his hold.

"Hey," he mutters. "Look at me."

You hesitantly meet his eyes.

"We're not like them, okay?" he assures you simply, bringing his hand up to cup your face oh-so gently in his hold. "We may argue sometimes. But the difference is, we communicate. We listen to each other. And we may not have all the answers to everything, but we'll figure it out together, alright?"

You swear you can feel the way he's holding your face also on your heart, like he's protecting you in a way from any doubts that might creep in. A small sigh escapes you, the tension leaving your shoulders as his words wrap around you comfortingly. The faintest, appreciative curve appears to your lips as you feel Joshua's thumb brush against your cheek.

He dreamily smiles at you as well, despite his face being half-buried in the pillow. And the thought of being able to wake up to this sight every single day suddenly feels a lot less like a leap and a whole lot more like a promise.

Somehow, the gap between the two of you disappears as your lips meets his. He kisses you so tenderly, mouth moving against yours with a delicate urgency, and the tiny sound that leaves you brings that smirk you could feel forming on his face.

You feel almost dizzy when you pull away, nothing but a shy look gracing over your features.

"Feeling better?" Joshua asks softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

You could only gaze at him, wondering to yourself how he's even in real, how someone like him could exist with his sleepy smile, messy hair, and perfect features carved by the angels above, yet cherish you so dearly.

"Can you..." Your eyes flicker from eyes to his lips. "Can you... keep kissing me?"

It feels really silly to ask that, however Joshua just chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest as he peers at you with nothing but adoration.

"Of course," he replies, leaning back in. "Whatever you want."

THREE. "braced myself for the goodbye, 'cause that's all I've ever known / then you took me by surprise / you said, 'I'll never leave you alone...'"

The tears streaming down your face burns through the concrete below like acid.

"Y/N, wait𑁋"

"I told you that I-I can't do this right now."

The leaves crunching at your feet echo in your ears as you walk away from Joshua, each step feeling heavier than the last. It's around two in the morning or something, and you can't remember the last time you felt this lost and broken ever since your parents' separation. It's like the ground beneath you has crumbled away, leaving you suspended in midair, grasping for something𑁋just anything𑁋to hold onto.

You've been here before, standing at the edge of this cliff of vulnerability. It's easier to leave before you get left, easier to build walls than to let someone in only to watch them walk away.

But you've come to understand that Joshua isn't one to give up easily. He catches up to you quickly, his hand gently grasping your arm to stop you in your tracks. You try to shrug him off, but his grip only tightens slightly as he turns you around to face him.

"Talk to me," he pleads insistently, and the subtle tremble to his voice has your chest clenching. "If you're just going to keep pushing me away, then𑁋"

"Then leave." The words leave you before you can stop them, fueled by the ache in your chest and the fear in your heart. "You don't have to stay with me when all I-I do is push you away. Don't you think you deserve someone better?"

Joshua's grip on your arm loosens at your words, but it doesn't fall. His eyes scan over your tear-stained face, the quiver to your lips, and all of it has you bracing yourself for the inevitable, final blow𑁋for him to turn and walk away like so many others before him.

But instead, he just steps closer to you.

"This isn't about me staying because I have to, Y/N," he explains. "It's about me wanting to stay because I love you. I knew what I was getting into the second I realised I was falling for you. So no, I'm not going to leave you. And I'll never leave you alone because I know you're worth fighting for."

Your breath catches in your throat, his words piercing through you like a bullet straight through the heart. Even Joshua appears out of breath himself, as if he's poured his own heart out to you in those few simple sentences. The silence stretches between the two of you.

With a quiet sigh and a faint smile, he lets the tension simmer down by trailing his eyes over you.

"When I look at you, I think... I think I fall in love with you all over again like the first time I saw you," Joshua admits shyly, followed by a sheepish chuckle to himself. "It's cheesy, I know. But I can't help it. It's hard not to look at you."

You feel the heat crawling up your face as you blink away your tears clumsily, peering up at him inquisitively. "Really?"

This just draws another laugh from him. Joshua steps closer to you, trailing a hand to cup your face and the other to slide to your back to shorten the gap between the two of you even more. He places a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulls back slightly to meet your gaze.

"Really," he confirms, voice gentle yet firm. "I meant every word I said, darling."

This brings a genuine smile to your face as if it was the first one that night. You instinctively lean more into Joshua's touch, letting your eyes close for a moment to the simple feeling of him holding you.

"I'm sorry," You mumble, voice barely above a whisper. "for pushing you away like that. It's just... I'm scared."

Joshua takes one of your hands into his own to bring up to his lips, pressing a reassuring kiss to your knuckles.

"It's okay," he assures you. "We can be scared together."

FOUR. "do you believe it? / we're gonna make it now / and i can see it / i can see it now."

A pair of arms snake around your waist from behind, the relaxing melody of a piano floating through the air of the kitchen. You take in a deep breath, leaning back into Joshua's embrace as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"Smells amazing, honey," Joshua murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You smile contentedly, feeling the peace of the moment wash over the two of you. The enticing smells of the pasta you were cooking waft around the kitchen, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs, garlic, and Joshua's presence right behind you.

"It should be ready soon," You say, clutching the wooden spoon in your hands to give the sauce a final stir.

Joshua's eyes arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer as he sways gently to the music. You hear the sounds of his hums hit your ears as you turn to the heat off to the stove. And as you attempt to pull away from him to grab for some plates, Joshua's grip on your waist hardly budges.

You groan exaggeratedly. "Shua, I need to𑁋"

"Marry me."

You freeze immediately, and you swear time halted right at that moment. Turning around in his hold, you're met with the sight of Joshua's eyes on you. You try to pinpoint any doubt in them, any sign that this is some sort of joke, but his gaze remains unwavering, dark eyes serious yet painted with a shine of hope that tugs right at the strings of your heart and the walls of your hesitation.

There's always that fear gnawing at in the back of your mind. But beneath it all, a warmth spreads through your chest, a certainty that feels as natural as breathing.

And perhaps, you see nothing but forever in him.

You can see it in the way his eyes soften, in the way his hand trembles anxiously against your waist, in the way his lips part ever so slightly as he waits for your response. You can see it all in him. You've made it.

You kiss him just seconds later. It's a question your heart has already answered long before the words left Joshua's lips. You lean more into his touch, feeling your heart overflow past the brink of joy, and the feelings all melt together into the singular realisation that he's the best thing that's ever been yours.

When the two of you finally break away, a single word escapes your lips, "Yes."

another note: sorry this ending was slightly rushed T-T

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @tanya596carat @starshuas @totomoshi

[angelsuecult]

welcome home | s. crosby

summary: sidney arrives home at the crack of dawn wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed with you.

warnings: suggestive dialogue

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i thought it was going to be shorter but compared to the previous one id say it is! i’m really liking writing for you guys! got some suggestions, one will be uploaded this saturday, don’t be afraid to reach out! i’m having lots of fun writing for you guys and would love to hear any suggestions or feedback!

You awake to the faint creak of the bed and the soft whisper of someone settling beside you. The room was still bathed in the soft blue-grey of the early morning, just before the sun fully rose. As you blinked your eyes open, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of Sidney sitting on the edge of the bed, his profile softened by the light filtering through the curtains. His face was tired, but content, and just seeing him there after what felt like forever was a relief.

“Hey baby,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm after two weeks apart. His lips curved into a gentle smile as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead, longing just long enough to make you feel like he never wanted to leave again. The kiss wasn’t hurried or filled with the urgency of desire, but with affection—like he was savoring the feel of being near you again.

“Hi Sid,” you whispered back, your voice a little groggy with sleep, reaching out to pull down toward you. He easily followed your lead, his body sinking into the mattress beside you as he laid his head on your chest. His exhaustion was clear in the way his muscles seemed to melt against you, his body getting perfectly alongside yours like it always had. You let your hand drift to his hair, running your fingers through the strands, feeling the tension in him begin to ease.

“What time did your plane touch down?” you murmured, almost disbelieving. It had been two long weeks without him—weeks that felt like months, the house always a little too quiet, the bed a little too cold.

He sighed, the sound heavy with relief. “About 7:00 this morning,” he said softly. His breath warmed against your skin as he settled more comfortably against you.

You winced, feeling a pang of guilt. “Oh, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to pick you up.”

Sid shifted slightly, raising his head to meet your eyes, and shook his head with a tired but tender smile. “It’s fine. I actually enjoyed a bit of quiet before coming home. I was just really looking forward to seeing you.”

You could see the fatigue etched into every line of his face—the way his eyelids were heavy and how his usually sharp gaze was softened with weariness. “I should probably shower before I get too comfortable,” he muttered, though he made no effort to move, his body clearly too tired to act on the thought.

“No,” you said firmly, your hand still stroking his hair. “You’ve been on the road forever. Just take your dirty clothes off and go to sleep. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything else right now.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, the sound low and raspy, raising an eyebrow and his lips curling into a teasing smile. “Oh yeah? You want me to strip and sleep, eh? Sounds like you’re trying to get me into bed faster, Y/N.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes, “You’re ridiculous, it’s not like that. I just want you to be comfortable. You’ve had a long trip, and that last thing you need is to stand in a shower half-asleep.”

He gave a mock sigh, the mischief still dancing in his eyes. “Alright, alright, if you say so,” he said, though the grin on his face told you he wasn’t done teasing yet. “You sure you’re not just trying to keep me all to yourself?”

You smiled up at him, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “Maybe a little. But seriously, just come to bed. We can worry about everything else later.”

With a lighthearted sigh, he sat up groaning as he reached for his belts, his movements sluggish with exhaustion. As he unbuckled it, and tugged at his pants, you couldn't help but reach out, your fingers brushing lightly against his waist,feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric.

The simple touch made him shiver slightly, his eyes flicking to yours. “Careful now,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he paused, his gaze locked onto yours. “You keep that up, and I might forget about sleep entirely.”

You laughed softly, your hands helping him ease out of his pants. “I’m just helping. The sooner you’re out of those clothes, the sooner we can both settle in.”

He gave a soft sigh as his pants hit the floor, then he turned his attention to the buttons of his shirt. His fingers fumbled “Let me help.” you said, sitting up to gently brush his hands aside. “Sidney Crosby; captain of a hockey team, yet can’t seem to undress himself.” you said softly, as you began to unfasten the buttons one by one.

He gave you a sheepish grin, resting one of his hands on your thigh as you worked on the buttons. “What can I say? I do my best work on the ice,” he teased, his thumb gently rubbing the fabric of your pajamas as he watched you with a lazy smile.

You shook your head, fingers making quick work of the buttons, each one revealing a little more of his skin. The warmth radiated from him, and you couldn't help but feel a quiet satisfaction as you peeled the shirt off his shoulders, sliding it down his arms. He let out a quiet, appreciative hum as the shirt fell to the floor, and without a second thought, you guided him back beneath the blankets.

“You really know how to make a guy feel at home,” he murmured.

You pulled back, “Maybe because you are, no?”

He immediately relaxed, his body sinking into the mattress as he pulled you close,your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. The familiar scent of him—something warm and comforting, a mix of his skin and the faint trace of his cologne—made your chest tighten with a feeling that was almost too much to describe.

“Feels good to be home,” he whispered, his voice thick with fatigue but so full of warmth. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tighter against him, and you could feel the slow, steady, rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your hand.

“I missed you, you know,” you whispered, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest.

“He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there as if he wanted to hold onto the moment just a little longer. “I missed you too,” he murmured, his voice soft.

You lay there in the quiet of the morning, the soft light of dawn filling the room as you enjoyed the closeness. You moved your head to his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, while his fingers traced gentle circles on your back.

As the sun rose, casting a warm glow over the room, you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms. The gentle rays filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues. There were no urgent needs or obligations, just the pure joy of being together, finding comfort in the shared warmth and love.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, Sidney’s stomach rumbled softly, breaking the silence. You both laughed softly, “Sounds like someone’s ready for breakfast, hm?” you tease, nudging him gently.

He groaned, “I might be. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. You name it.”

“Ambitious, are we?” you said grinning up at him. “We can start with breakfast and see how far we get.”

He nods, pulling you closer. “Sounds like a plan. But just so you know, I might be expecting a full-course meal with dessert later. Preferably a dessert on all fours?” He suggests tugging at the waistband of your pajama pants.

You snort, giving him a playful swat on the arm, “I should have let you undress yourself.”

[ilypaigebuckets]

I Hate it Here

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

plot: based off of the tiktok trend from taylor swift’s new album ttpd. in which paige sees the tiktok you made about her.

also posting on my other acc! @kenzlovesyou

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paige returned home from practice to find you asleep in your shared room. she was sweaty and tired but the sight of you looking so precious made her face soften. she noticed you had a tendency to do that; make her soft.

paige put her bag down and walked up to you, kissing your forehead. “hey y/n, baby. i’m back,” her tone was sweet as she shook you awake, “i’m home!”. you groaned a bit as your eyes fluttered awake. “paigeyyy” you said, still half asleep as your arms reached to hug her. she smiled and reached down to hug you. you nuzzled into her neck, you’d missed her a little extra today. she stood up fully and you got out of your bed, hugging her tightly once again. “babe i’m sweaty. let me shower, then we’ll spend some time ok?” she lightly unhooked your arms from around your neck and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. you sighed, already missing her touch.

you decided to go on to couch and watch a show while you waited for paige to finish showering. after finally settling on a show you spaced out into it, watching intently. paige finally finished showering and came out of the bathroom onto the couch with you. she saw the show you chose and wasn’t particularly interested, but still wanted to spend time with you. you laid your head on her shoulder and snuggled close to her. she looked down at your precious head and kissed the top of it.

she decided to scroll on tiktok while you watched your show. she scrolled past videos on her for you page, not finding anything entertaining enough to like but not boring enough to scroll past without watching. she then switched to her following feed. she watched the dancing video she and kk had made earlier in the day, before practice and laughed to herself. then she stumbled upon your account. you weren’t too active on social media, so it was always a treat for her to view something you’d posted. it was one of those slideshow tiktoks, with a new song from Taylor Swift playing in the background. the first picture was a cute picture of you azzi had taken of you with your hood on your heading, looking grumpywith the words “i hate it here so i will go to”.

paige quickly realized what trend you were participating in and was excited to see what you thought your “secret garden” was. she assumed it would be Uconn, as you’d mentioned how happy going to school here had made you and how it’d brought you out of your shell. she slid to the next photo. “secret gardens in my mind” she read and saw a mirror picture of the two of you. nobody else. just her. she was your secret garden. she mattered most to you. she felt like tearing up. she’d never meant this much to someone. even though it was just a tiktok trend, she was overcome with emotion. “baby?” she looked over at you.

“hm?” you hummed over at her, still immersed in your show.

“hey, welcome back to the real world. i saw the tiktok you made about me. i love you so much. ” she lifted her arm up and put it around you.

“you like it?? it’s not too annoyingly coupley and cringey?” you asked.

“no, y/n. it’s perfect. i wish i could be with you all the time. i love spending time with you.”

you looked at her and smirked. she wasn’t this soft when she first met you. you’d changed her.

“going soft on me, bueckers?”

“OK MOMENT RUINED” she jokingly pushed you off her even though she knew she’d be holding you again not even 2 minutes later.

my first one shot 🥳🥳 ik it’s short but i felt like writing something!! feel free to send in fic requests, dialogue prompts, song lyric prompts, etc! hope you guys like this, ik im not the best writer but i just like to do it for fun!! have a great day/night <3 :)

[saiyanprincessswanie]

What do you Desire

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Word Count: 2465

Summary: Ari explores one of his desires with you.

Warnings: Anal sex, anal play, size kink, Ari is 6’4, oral (F & M), multiple orgasms, friends with benefits with feelings. Dialogue in bold, “You're taking me so well, baby.”

A/N: Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo. All mistakes are mine. Thank you to @fictional-affairs for the header and @firefly-graphics for the divider.

A/N 2: This is for @steviebbboi writing challenge. This can be read with the mini-series I started called Infinity Sex or as a standalone. These are the previous fics Give Me One More & Mine to Ruin.

Reblogs & Comments are welcomed and encouraged. It lets me know you like my work. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to translating or reposting my work on any social media platform, app, or third-party site. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Tonight was all about Ari and his desires as you knocked on his apartment door. Normally he was all about what you wanted and the new things to try in the bedroom. When Ari expressed he wanted to try anal with you, you wanted to throw yourself in his arms and his bed. This was also something on your list to try but you had always been nervous about it until Ari showed up in your life. You trusted him completely, cared for him deeply and a part of you was falling in love with this gentle man. You both started as strictly friends with benefits, but as time passed, you couldn’t ignore your feelings anymore. You didn’t want to ruin the good thing you had with him so you locked those feelings away.

After a moment of waiting Ari’s front door swung open and there he stood before you in sweatpants and a form-fitting t-shirt. You had to control yourself as the t-shirt he was wearing showed off all his muscles. It was like he was sculpted from the gods above. 

“Hey sweetheart, so happy you're here. Do you want any wine?” Ari hugs you tight before letting you go.

“Yes please,” you stated as you walked into the apartment in your leggings and one of Ari’s shirts that was oversized. The door closed behind you as you kicked off your shoes, placing them at the entrance. 

You followed Ari into the kitchen where he poured you both a glass of wine. Ari handed you the glass and you took a sip of it. You could see his blue eyes wandering across your body like he was drinking you in. You could be wearing a potato sack and you knew he would still eye fuck you. The thought of it brings a smile to your face. 

“So I wanted to make sure you were still up for tonight's scenario. I mean I know this is something I have always wanted to do with you sweetheart but if you aren’t comfortable now or at the time of it I need you to let me know. We can always do something else. I just want you safe and comfortable.” Ari commented as he took a drink of wine. 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face after what he said. He was always looking out for your well-being. He never forced you to do anything you didn’t openly want to try. Ari and you had a safe word just in case anything was too intense for you. But never once had you used it the entire time you had been together. 

“I am ready for tonight. It’s something I have always wanted to try with you. You always take care of me in bed and I trust you will do the same tonight. I know this is something on your list as well so let us do as we always do. Take our time and enjoy one another.” You suggested taking another drink of your wine. 

Ari smirked at you as he moved closer to where you stood in the kitchen. Ari was a very tall man compared to you standing at 6’4. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

“Why don’t we take this to my room? I want to be able to have some fun before we try anything new. What do you say, sweetheart?”

“I say let’s go Mr. Levinson and don’t forget to bring the wine.” You winked at him as you turned on your heel and walked away swaying your hips. 

Ari downed his glass of wine as he watched you head to the bedroom. “God she is going to be the death of me.” Ari picked up the bottle of wine and followed you quickly. 

In the bedroom, you turn on the lights next to the sides of the bed. Your body slides across the covers as you lay in the middle of the bed waiting for Ari to pounce. It doesn’t take long before he enters the room placing his glass and the bottle of wine on an end table. Ari walks to the end of the bed and slowly takes his shirt off revealing his muscular body that had a fair amount of chest hair. He slowly crawls up the bed until his body is changing you in.

“You’re too overdressed, sweetheart. Let me help you out of your clothes.” He states. 

Ari leans you upward as he grabs the shirt and pulls it over your head. His fingers then unclasp your bra and take it off slowly. His hand pushes you back on the bed as he works his way lower, kissing your body as he descends past your breasts and to your stomach. Ari’s fingers grab the waistband of your leggings and underwear, pulling them down your legs and discarding them. There you lay bare in front of him. Ari licks his lips as he takes your naked body in front of him. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. He wanted more than just your body, he wanted you to be his. The problem was he didn’t want to scare you away from him if he told you how he felt. 

Pushing your legs apart Ari settles his broad shoulders in between your legs. He places your legs over his shoulders and starts kissing slowly up your thighs. His beard left scratches in his wake as he made his way towards your pussy. You let out a shuddering breath when he licks through your pussy and kisses your clit. His tongue makes another pass through your petals and a moan escapes your lips.

Your fingers find refuge in his hair as you slide your fingers through his hair. Ari starts to eat you out like a man starved as his tongue and lips work you over. His right thumb finds your clit and rubs circles around it making you moan his name to the heavens. You can feel your body starting to get closer and closer to your end. Your breathing grows quicker the more Ari eats you out. A few more swirls of his tongue and swipes of his thumb to your clit has you screaming your release. Your arousal leaks all over Ari’s beard as he works you through your climax. 

As you come down from your high Ari pulls away and kisses his way back up your body to your breasts. He takes a nipple in his mouth and slightly sucks on it. Again he pulls off with a pop and does the same thing to your other nipple. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you start to pant. Once he pulls apart from you he kisses you passionately on your lips. His tongue plays with yours as he grinds his clothed cock against your core. When he pulls away from you so the both of you can breathe you press against his chest with your hand signaling for him to lay on his back. 

It’s your turn to pull off his sweats and boxer briefs down his legs, discarding his clothes onto the floor. His cock is hard, long and thick. Just knowing this will be in your ass in a matter of minutes makes your pussy clench around nothing. You whine at the thought of him taking you from behind and ruining your hole for all other men. Ari smirks at you as if he could read your mind. It was as if you could communicate with no words. 

You crawl up his body and lightly grab a hold of his cock. Your head dips down letting your tongue swirl around the tip of his cock. You lick the precum that is dripping down the head of his cock and slowly take him down your throat.

Ari softly whispers “fuck” as soon as he feels you take him deep in your throat. He runs his fingers through your hair as you work yourself up and down his shaft. His hands grip your hair as he starts to fuck your throat. You hum in delight at being used for his pleasure. You hollow your cheeks as you both work together chasing his high. His cock hits you deeper in your throat making tears fall from your eyes. It feels as though you can’t breathe at times but you don’t care you keep bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Cupping his balls you start to play with them causing Ari to groan loudly as he starts to chase his high. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, don’t stop.” He pleads. 

A couple more thrusts and Ari is cumming down your throat as he moans your name over and over. He lets go of your hair as you swallow his cum down your throat. You lick your lips making sure you got every drop of cum in your mouth and take a deep breath in. Ari looks like you swallowed his soul down as he is breathing deeply in and out.

“God damn, sweetheart, that was fucking great. Just give me a minute before I have my way with you.” 

Ari pulls you to his chest and kisses your forehead. You cuddle up against him as you both continue to touch one another sensually. Every caress, every kiss makes this feel more intimate between the two of you. Time passes and you start to get aroused again. Looking down at Ari’s cock he starts to grow hard. Sitting up in bed Ari opens the end table drawer and pulls out some lube. 

“Now sweetheart, I’m going to get you stretched out before we go any further. Okay?”

You nod your head as you get into position, head down and ass up. Ari shuffles behind you and lightly rubs your hip. He pours some lube on your hole and his fingers. The lube makes you tense at first but then you relax. His thumb rubs soft circles around the rim of your hole and with every light pass he just pushes the tip of his thumb into you slowly. Inch by inch his thumb stretches you. Causing you to groan out in pleasure. In and out, he moves gently to not hurt you.

“I’m gonna add two fingers to help stretch you out better. You’re gonna need to take at least three for me to fit.” He pushes two fingers inside you as you moan his name.

“Ari, baby, this feels good. The stretch is…oh god… it's so fucking good.” 

Your ass presses back against his fingers as he finally puts all three inside you. Ari works them in and out of you. Now and then he speeds up making you squeal in delight. After several minutes of working on you and stretching you, adding another finger, and doing it again, he pulls his three fingers out. Ari pours a little more lube on you and strokes some on his cock. 

“Okay sweetheart, I’m going to push inside you. If anything hurts you know your safe word. Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

He grabs his cock and puts the tip to your puckered hole. Slowly he pushes into you and your hole stretches around his thickness. Inch by inch he gently moves inside you and when he is fully inside his cock pulls out just as gently. Your soft whimpers and moans fill the air as Ari starts to speed up a little. Every push and pull has you holding onto the bedding. Ari loves the tightness around his cock and the noises you are making. With as tight as you feel he is afraid he isn’t going to last as long. 

“Darling you are gripping me tightly. Feels so good. You feel so good. Can I go a little harder?” He all but begs you.

“Yes, baby. I need more of you.” You whined as he started to thrust a little harder into you. You relax as much as possible so he can thrust into you more easily.

Every push and pull of his cock has you both moaning and groaning. Ari’s pace is just what you need. Your fingers glide down between your legs to where your clit is. Reaching it you start to play with yourself rubbing it in pace with Ari.

With every thrust you push back against him, trying to chase your end. Ari’s grip on your hips is almost bruising as he gets lost in the sensation of it all. 

“You're taking me so well, baby. I’m close, sweetheart. So fucking close. I need you to cum for me.”

Your fingers continue rubbing your clit and you can feel that familiar coil within you about to break. A few thrusts and a slap to your ass from Ari sends you over the edge as you chant his name over and over. 

That’s all that he needed to hear to make him cum inside you. His thrusts slow down until he is finished. Ari gently pulls himself out of your hole and watches you sink into the bed. Fuck did he enjoy himself for his first time doing anal. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You mumble out, “Yes, I think I need a minute.” 

Ari straddles your hips and starts to massage your back. He knew you needed this and worked to get all the stress worked out of your back. After ten minutes of massaging he leans down to kiss your shoulder.

“Let’s get up so we can both shower. Then we can lay down.” He kisses you again as you groan out your frustration of having to get up. But you knew you had to.

You both crawl out of bed and take a hot shower together. Each of you cleaning the other while enjoying the intimacy of it all. By the time you were cleaned, you both dried yourselves off and were heading to bed. Ari was putting the lube away as you climbed into bed.

Ari joins you and cuddles up behind your naked form. His big arm drapes across you and pulls you close to his chest. 

You both start to drift off into your sleepy state when you whisper, “Love you, Ari.”

His eyes open up at the sound of your voice and he smiles to himself. “Love you too sweetheart.” But it seems he’s too late as he hears your soft snores as you sleep. 

Were you both just confessing the love you had for one another or was it just a slip of words? He worries that maybe his feelings are getting too involved in what was an agreement between the two of you. This is something you both will need to talk about soon. For now, Ari holds you close and falls asleep.

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[enemiestolovershoe]

hey :) .. i‘m in desperate need for a very fluffy fic with chris and bsf!reader where reader went to the triplets house earlier that day and ever since she was off. she crashed on the couch and as chris went to the kitchen to get some pepsi he saw that the lights are still one and reader is still up. crying. he askes whats wrong (you make something up) and chris is comforting her in the end and they end up cuddling falling asleep on the couch. :) thank you so much

Shattered Trust

Christ Sturniolo x bsf!reader

Summary: After Y/N’s world shatters from betrayal, Chris offers her comfort and support, helping her navigate the painful path of healing and rediscovery.

Words: 5k

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Emotional Hurt, Mild swearing, Crying, Emotional Distress, Betrayal

The glowing screen of your phone illuminated your tear-streaked face as you typed out a message. Your hands trembled, but you forced yourself to hit send:

Hey, Chris, are you busy?

It only took a few seconds for the reply to pop up.

Not at all. What’s up?

You hesitated, debating whether to tell him the truth or to brush it off as nothing. The thought of sitting in your room, replaying the betrayal over and over, was unbearable. You needed a distraction, somewhere to go, people to be with—people who felt safe.

Can I come over? you finally typed.

Chris’s reply came faster this time.

Of course. We were just about to pick a movie. You coming over for our movie night?

You blinked at the screen. You’d completely forgotten tonight was one of your monthly traditions with the triplets. Normally, the thought would’ve excited you, but now it just felt like a lifeline.

Yeah, movie night sounds good. Be there in 15.

Chris stood in the living room, holding his phone with a faint smile. "Y/N's coming over," he announced to Nick and Matt, who were sprawled across the couch, arguing about which movie to watch.

"Finally," Nick grinned, tossing a piece of popcorn at Matt. "I was about to call her myself. It’s her turn to pick the snacks anyway."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "You sure she doesn’t just want to escape from her crazy family? Remember that time she showed up because her mom and sister were having a screaming match over hair dye?"

Chris shrugged. "I don’t care why she’s coming. She asked, so she’s welcome."

As you drove through the quiet streets, your mind drifted back to the moment everything shattered.

Your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, you corrected yourself—had always been charming, maybe too charming. You’d never questioned his late nights or the way he sometimes avoided your gaze when your sister was around. You’d trusted him completely.

But a week ago, you’d come home early from a canceled lunch with friends, only to find the two of them tangled up on the couch. The image was burned into your memory, along with the sound of their voices stumbling over excuses.

"Y/N, it’s not what it looks like," he’d said, his voice dripping with guilt.

"Seriously?" you’d spat, unable to even look at your sister. "How long has this been going on?"

Your sister had said nothing, just stood there, avoiding your eyes. That silence had hurt more than anything he could’ve said.

Pulling into the Sturniolos’ driveway, you wiped your eyes and practiced a smile in the mirror. The triplets didn’t know what had happened, and you weren’t ready to tell them. Tonight needed to be about something else, anything else.

Chris opened the door before you could even knock. "Hey, you made it!" he greeted, pulling you into a quick hug. "You okay?"

You nodded, forcing your practiced smile. "Yeah, just needed some company."

"Well, you’re in luck," Nick called from the couch, waving the remote. "We were about to watch something, but Matt refuses to watch anything fun. Save us."

"Hey!" Matt protested. "At least I pick movies with actual plots."

"Sure, if by 'plot,' you mean boring dialogue and depressing endings," Nick shot back.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Ignore them. You want something to drink? Snacks? Or just want to settle in and pick the movie?"

You hesitated, but the warmth of their familiar banter started to thaw the icy weight in your chest. "I’ll take snacks and the remote," you said with a weak laugh.

"Now that’s the Y/N we know," Chris said, his smile softening as he led you into the living room.

You flopped onto the couch with a sigh, curling into the corner as Nick and Matt argued over yet another movie choice.

"Okay, but why would we watch Inception right now? It’s like three hours long, and my brain’s not ready for all that," Nick said, waving his hands in exasperation.

"Because it’s a good movie," Matt shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, but good doesn’t mean fun, and I’m in the mood for fun," Nick retorted.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, your first real laugh in what felt like days. "How about The Hangover?" you suggested, cutting through their debate.

Three pairs of eyes turned to you.

"Classic choice," Chris said with an approving nod.

"Finally, someone with taste," Nick said, glaring at Matt.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Fine. At least it’s better than whatever Nick would’ve picked."

"Excuse me, my taste is immaculate," Nick replied, throwing a handful of popcorn in Matt’s direction.

Chris handed you the remote and stood. "I’ll grab some snacks. Pepsi okay?"

"Perfect," you said, your voice soft but grateful.

A few minutes later, Chris returned with a can of Pepsi and a small bowl of your favorite chocolate. He placed them on the table in front of you, giving you a brief, searching look.

"You good?" he asked quietly, his voice low enough that Nick and Matt wouldn’t hear.

You nodded quickly, not trusting your voice. "Thanks, Chris."

He didn’t push further, just gave you a small smile before sitting down next to you.

As the opening credits of The Hangover rolled, you settled into your corner of the couch. Nick had sprawled out on the floor with a blanket, Matt took the recliner, and Chris sat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours.

The room quickly filled with laughter as the movie’s chaotic antics unfolded. For the first time in a week, you felt a little lighter, the ache in your chest dulled by the comfort of their company.

"Okay, but how does no one realize there’s a tiger in the bathroom until it’s too late?" Nick asked between bouts of laughter.

"Because they were all blacked out, genius," Matt replied, tossing a kernel of popcorn at him.

"Still. I would’ve noticed a tiger," Nick said with mock seriousness.

You smiled, shaking your head. "No, you wouldn’t. You’d be too busy freaking out over a missing tooth."

Chris chuckled beside you, his gaze lingering on your face. When you glanced over, he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the screen.

It happened again a few minutes later during one of the movie’s funniest scenes. You caught Chris watching you out of the corner of your eye, his expression soft, almost worried.

"Chris," you whispered, leaning toward him slightly.

"Yeah?" He looked at you, his face unreadable.

"You don’t have to keep staring. I’m okay," you said, forcing a small smile.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I wasn’t staring."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe a little," he admitted, his voice lowering. "I just… You seem different tonight."

Your stomach twisted at his words, but you quickly shook your head. "Just tired, that’s all."

Chris hesitated but nodded, letting it drop. "Well, if you need anything, just let me know," he said softly.

"Thanks, Chris," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

As the movie continued, you tried to focus on the humor, on the familiar warmth of being with the triplets. But Chris’s quiet concern lingered in the back of your mind, making you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he saw through the smile you were trying so hard to keep.

As the credits of The Hangover Part III rolled, Matt stretched with a dramatic yawn and stood up.

"Alright, I’m done," he announced, rubbing his eyes. "If I watch one more scene of Alan’s nonsense, I might lose my mind."

"You lost it a long time ago," Nick quipped, earning a glare from Matt.

"Whatever. I’m going to bed. Night, Y/N," Matt said with a small wave before disappearing down the hall.

Nick was quick to follow, gathering his blanket and pillow. "Yeah, I’m out too. Y/N, make sure Chris doesn’t make you watch some artsy indie movie if you guys stay up," he said with a wink.

"Goodnight, Nick," you replied with a soft laugh.

As their doors closed, Chris turned to you. "It’s pretty late," he said, glancing at the clock. "You sure you’re okay to drive? You could crash here if you want."

You hesitated, but the idea of going back home, back to the empty room where every corner reminded you of betrayal, was unbearable. "Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you guys."

"Y/N," Chris said firmly, his eyes meeting yours. "You could never bother us. Stay."

You nodded. "Okay. I’ll take the couch, then."

Chris got up and grabbed a blanket from the hallway closet. He draped it over you carefully, his hand lingering on the back of the couch for a moment. "If you need anything, just knock on my door, alright?"

"I will. Thanks, Chris," you said quietly.

"Goodnight," he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

"Goodnight."

As soon as he was gone, the silence of the room felt overwhelming. You curled up under the blanket, the warm fabric doing little to shield you from the cold ache in your chest.

You pulled out your phone, hoping for a distraction, but the sight of an unread message made your heart sink. It was from your sister.

Why are you ghosting me? We need to talk.

Your breath hitched as the words blurred on the screen. She had the nerve to text you, to act as though everything could be fixed with a conversation. Fresh tears welled up, and before you could stop them, they spilled over.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your sobs. The last thing you wanted was for the triplets to hear. They didn’t know, and you weren’t sure you could bring yourself to tell them.

In his room, Chris lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Something about tonight wasn’t sitting right with him. You’d been quiet, more than usual. The message you sent earlier had been short, almost hesitant, and now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen or heard from you all week.

Chris frowned, running a hand through his hair. He hated seeing you like this—guarded, distant. It wasn’t like you to pull away, not from them.

He turned onto his side, closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep. But it was no use. His mind kept replaying little moments from the night—the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, the way you flinched when he asked if you were okay, the way you seemed to deflate the second Matt and Nick left the room.

Something was wrong. He didn’t know what, but he was sure of it.

Back in the living room, you wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie, but the tears kept coming. The betrayal, the pain, the gnawing guilt of not telling the triplets—it all felt like too much.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block it all out, but sleep wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw your sister’s name on your screen, her message taunting you, demanding an answer you couldn’t give.

You wanted to tell Chris, Nick, and Matt everything. You wanted to spill it all, to let them comfort you like they always did. But the words felt trapped in your throat, too heavy to say out loud.

And besides, they were probably asleep by now.

What you didn’t know was that Chris wasn’t asleep. He was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, still thinking about you. And something told him he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep tonight.

Chris tossed and turned in his bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Sleep just wouldn’t come. His thoughts kept drifting back to you—your forced smiles, the way you’d seemed a little too quiet all night. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

With a sigh, he gave up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, noting the time: 2:37 a.m.

"Great," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

He decided a Pepsi might help, so he padded quietly out of his room and into the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise. The kitchen and living room were joined, and he didn’t want to accidentally wake you.

As he opened the fridge, the faint sound of a muffled sob reached his ears. Chris froze, his hand hovering over the soda can.

He turned his head toward the couch, his brow furrowing. The room was dim, but he could see your figure curled under the blanket, your shoulders trembling.

"Y/N?" he called softly, stepping away from the fridge.

You stiffened, biting your lip to keep any more sounds from escaping. But it was too late—he’d already heard you.

Chris approached the couch slowly, his heart sinking at the sight of you trying to hide your tears. Without a word, he sat down beside you, the couch dipping slightly under his weight.

You turned your head away, wiping at your face furiously, but Chris wasn’t having it. Gently, he laid a hand on your head, his fingers threading through your hair in a soothing motion.

"Hey," he said softly. "What’s wrong, hm?"

"Nothing," you whispered, your voice cracking.

"Y/N," he said firmly, though his tone remained gentle. "Please. Tell me. We both know something’s hurting you. You can tell me anything, I promise."

You shook your head stubbornly, clutching the blanket tighter around yourself.

Chris sighed but didn’t pull away. "Okay," he said after a moment. "How about this? If you don’t want Matt or Nick to know, I won’t tell them. Whatever it is, it’ll stay between us. I swear."

You hesitated, his words making the weight on your chest feel just a little lighter. Taking a shaky breath, you sat up, letting the blanket fall to your lap. Chris stayed close, watching you carefully, his concern etched across his face.

Your eyes fixed on the ceiling as you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "Jason cheated."

Chris blinked, his jaw tightening. He opened his mouth to say something, but you held up a hand, stopping him.

"And it wasn’t just with anyone," you continued, your voice breaking. "It was with my sister."

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Chris stared at you, his eyes wide with shock, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard.

You looked down at your lap, your fingers twisting in the blanket. The silence felt suffocating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

Finally, Chris found his voice. "Y/N..." he started, but his words trailed off, as if he didn’t know where to begin.

Chris sat there for a moment, stunned into silence. His mind reeled at your words, trying to process the betrayal you’d just revealed. But as he looked at you—your trembling hands, the tears that streamed down your cheeks—his shock quickly gave way to something else: protectiveness.

Without hesitating, Chris moved closer, sliding an arm around your shoulders. His touch was warm and steady, grounding you even as your emotions threatened to spiral.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t even know what to say… but I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve that. Not from him. And definitely not from her."

His words broke something loose inside you, and the tears came harder, pouring down your face and soaking the neckline of your shirt. You buried your face in your hands, your body trembling as you let out the sobs you’d been holding back for days.

"How could they do this to me, Chris?" you choked out between sobs. "My own sister… she knew everything—everything Jason and I had been through. And she still—" You couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Chris felt a sharp pang in his chest. Seeing you like this—completely broken—made his blood boil. He wanted to storm out, to confront Jason, to demand answers from your sister, but he knew none of that would help you right now. Right now, you needed him here.

"They’re both selfish," he said firmly, his voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. "They didn’t think about you at all, and that’s on them. That’s not your fault, Y/N."

You shook your head, tears still streaming. "But it feels like it is… I keep thinking, ‘What did I do wrong? Was I not enough?’"

Chris grabbed your hands, gently pulling them away from your face. "Hey, stop that. Don’t do that to yourself," he said, his tone more intense now. "Jason cheated because he’s an idiot who doesn’t know how to value someone amazing when he has them. And your sister…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "She’s the one who betrayed you, not the other way around. You’re not to blame for any of this. Not even a little."

You tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. The weight of everything—the betrayal, the heartbreak, the shame—was too much.

Chris seemed to sense that. He didn’t say anything more, just pulled you into a hug, wrapping both arms around you tightly. Your head fell against his chest, and he rested his chin lightly on top of your hair.

"Just let it out," he murmured, stroking your back in soothing circles. "I’m right here. You don’t have to hold it in anymore."

The dam broke. You clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely, your tears soaking into his shirt. Chris didn’t flinch or pull away. If anything, he held you tighter, his hand continuing its steady rhythm on your back.

"It’s okay," he whispered, his voice soft but firm. "Cry as much as you need to. I’m not going anywhere."

And he didn’t. Chris stayed there, holding you like you were the most fragile and important thing in the world. Even as your sobs wracked your body, he remained calm, offering the kind of quiet strength you desperately needed.

Minutes passed, though it felt like time stood still. Slowly, your crying began to subside, your breaths becoming less ragged. But Chris didn’t let go, not until he was sure you were ready.

The warmth of Chris’s embrace began to steady your breathing, though your body still felt heavy with exhaustion. Slowly, you pulled away, your hands resting in your lap as you avoided his gaze. Chris leaned back slightly, giving you space, but his concern didn’t waver.

Your eyes were puffy and swollen from crying, your cheeks streaked with drying tears. Chris reached out, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear that lingered.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Let’s try and get some sleep, okay?" he said softly, his voice warm and steady. "It’s been a lot tonight, but it’s going to get better. I promise."

You nodded wordlessly, lying back down on the couch and pulling the blanket up to your chin. The headache from crying so much throbbed behind your eyes, and you couldn’t deny how tired you felt.

As you settled in, you expected Chris to stand and head back to his room. But instead, he surprised you. Without saying a word, he shifted to lie down behind you, sliding in close and wrapping an arm protectively around your waist.

You stiffened for a moment, startled by the gesture. "Chris… you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to," you protested, your voice soft and hesitant.

Chris’s hold didn’t falter. He rested his chin lightly against the top of your head and hushed you gently. "Shhh," he murmured. "I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. We’ll get through this together, okay? You don’t have to do this alone."

His words, spoken with such quiet determination, made your chest tighten. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, though this time they weren’t from sadness.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Chris." Your voice cracked slightly, but you meant every word.

He gave your waist a small squeeze. "Always," he said simply, his tone carrying a weight of sincerity that made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t in days.

The steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his arm around you, and the comfort of knowing he wasn’t going to leave finally allowed your body to relax. The headache and emotional exhaustion took over, and before you knew it, your eyes fluttered shut.

Chris stayed awake a little longer, watching over you as your breathing evened out. He held you close, his heart breaking a little as he thought about everything you’d gone through. But more than anything, he was determined to be there for you, no matter what it took.

Finally, a small, tired smile crossed his lips as he rested his head against the pillow, letting sleep claim him too—right there with you in his arms.

The morning light crept through the blinds as Nick shuffled groggily into the living room, his eyes barely open. He stretched with a yawn, heading toward the fridge for something to drink. As he turned toward the couch, he froze mid-step.

At first, he blinked a few times, convinced he was still half-asleep. "What the…" he muttered, rubbing his eyes dramatically. The sight before him—Chris curled up behind you on the couch, his arm draped protectively around your waist—was not something he’d ever expected to see.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked aloud to no one in particular. After a moment of staring in disbelief, he turned and bolted down the hall.

"Matt!" Nick hissed, bursting into his brother’s room.

Matt groaned, burying his face in his pillow. "Nick, if this isn’t an emergency, I swear—"

"It is!" Nick interrupted, shaking Matt’s shoulder. "You need to see this. Like, right now."

Reluctantly, Matt sat up, his hair a mess and his expression sour. "This better be good," he grumbled, throwing the blanket off and following Nick back to the living room.

When he caught sight of the two of you on the couch, his annoyance vanished, replaced by wide-eyed surprise.

"Is that…" Matt started, leaning closer to get a better look.

"Yup," Nick whispered, his tone somewhere between shocked and amused.

"Did he finally make a move?" Nick asked, tilting his head.

"I don’t know," Matt replied, scratching the back of his head. "But… doesn’t she have a boyfriend?"

Nick frowned, looking at Matt. "Yeah, she does. At least, I think she does. So… what’s this about?"

Matt shrugged, his brow furrowed. "No clue. But they look pretty cozy."

Nick pulled out his phone, biting his lip to keep from laughing. "Should we ask them? Or should I just take a picture for evidence?"

"Definitely a picture," Matt said, smirking.

Nick nodded, holding his phone up and aiming the camera. Just as he was about to snap the shot, his fingers fumbled, and the phone slipped from his hand.

The loud clatter of the phone hitting the floor echoed through the room, and both you and Chris stirred.

Chris blinked awake first, squinting against the light and taking a second to register what was happening. He glanced down at you still in his arms, then up at Nick and Matt, who were both frozen like deer in headlights.

You woke up a second later, groggy and disoriented. "What’s going on?" you mumbled, sitting up slightly and noticing Chris’s arm still loosely around you.

Nick recovered first, quickly scooping up his phone. "Uh, nothing! Morning! Just… you know… didn’t mean to wake you guys!"

Matt, however, wasn’t as subtle. "So… are we gonna talk about this, or…?" He gestured between the two of you, his brows raised.

Chris rubbed his face, clearly trying to think of a way to explain. "It’s not what it looks like—"

Matt snorted. "Really? ‘Cause it looks like you two were cuddling all night."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Can we not do this right now?"

Nick crossed his arms, a mischievous grin creeping onto his face. "Oh, we’re definitely doing this right now."

Chris’s body stiffened as he quickly sat up, his expression suddenly serious. His protective instincts kicked in, and he shot a sharp look at Nick, his voice firm. "No, Nick. Seriously. Drop it. It’s not the time."

Nick froze, blinking in confusion at the sudden change in Chris’s tone. He wasn’t used to hearing his brother so... intense. But before he could ask anything more, his gaze shifted to you.

You had your face hidden in your hands, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. That’s when it hit Nick. It wasn’t just a casual morning moment between friends. Something was wrong.

Matt’s playful smirk faltered, and his eyes softened as he noticed the tears trailing down your face. His teasing nature immediately gave way to concern. "Y/N…?" he began, but Chris cut him off before either of them could say anything else.

"Look, this is serious," Chris said, his voice still low and full of emotion. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he turned toward Nick and Matt. "You guys don’t know what happened."

Nick looked at him, unsure. "What happened?" he asked, his voice quieter now, sensing the weight behind his brother’s words.

Chris glanced over at you, his heart breaking as he saw how upset you were. He didn’t want to push you, but he also knew you needed support. "Y/N gave me permission to tell you guys," he said softly, then turned to face Matt and Nick fully. "Jason—her boyfriend—cheated on her. With her sister."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Matt and Nick both looked at each other in stunned silence, their eyes wide with disbelief.

"Wait, what?" Nick whispered, shaking his head in confusion. "He… cheated on her with her sister?"

Chris nodded, his jaw tight with anger. "Yeah. And I know she’s been trying to keep it together, but it’s been eating her up. She didn’t deserve any of this." His voice cracked slightly, the weight of what you were going through becoming even more apparent as he spoke.

You wiped at your eyes, feeling the sting of their stares but too drained to care. Chris’s hand remained on your back, offering what little comfort he could, but you could tell this was a lot for Matt and Nick to process.

Matt was the first to speak up again, his face hardening. "That’s messed up," he muttered, clearly frustrated. "She doesn’t deserve that." He glanced at you, his expression softening. "Y/N, I’m sorry."

Nick nodded in agreement, though his voice was still filled with disbelief. "I… I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell us sooner?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

You sniffed and looked up, finally meeting their eyes. "I didn’t know how to. It hurt too much. I didn’t want to drag anyone into it." Your voice trembled, but you tried to hold it together. "I just needed some time to figure out what to do."

Chris gave your back another reassuring rub, silently telling you it was okay to let them in. He looked up at Matt and Nick, a heavy sigh escaping him. "She needs our support right now, not questions. So please… just… give her space if she wants it."

Matt nodded solemnly, his usual teasing nature now completely gone. "Yeah, of course," he said, his voice softer than before. "You’ve got it, Y/N. Whatever you need."

Nick hesitated for a moment, then gave you a small, almost apologetic smile. "We’re here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone."

You nodded weakly, still feeling the sting of everything that had happened. But for the first time in what felt like days, you felt a small flicker of hope. With Chris, Matt, and Nick by your side, maybe things would start to get better.

Chris’s arm tightened around you once more, offering the quiet comfort of knowing that, for now, you weren’t alone in this.

The room fell into a quiet calm, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. Matt and Nick gave you the space you needed, no longer pressing you with questions. Instead, they offered small, reassuring smiles, letting you know they were there—ready to support you however you needed.

Chris, still sitting close beside you, rubbed your back comfortingly, his presence a silent promise that he wouldn’t leave your side. The warmth of his touch brought a small, but much-needed sense of peace.

After a few moments of silence, you took a shaky breath and finally looked up at Chris. "I don’t know what to do… or where to go from here," you admitted, your voice still thick with emotion.

Chris met your gaze with understanding in his eyes. "You don’t have to have all the answers right now," he said gently. "We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time."

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words sink in. Maybe you didn’t have the answers yet, but you weren’t alone. With Chris, Matt, and Nick by your side, you knew you had the support to get through this.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice breaking again, but this time with gratitude.

Chris smiled softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Always, Y/N. You’ll never have to go through this alone."

As the day began to unfold, you and the triplets spent the rest of the morning together. No more talk of Jason or your sister—just the comfort of knowing you were surrounded by people who cared. Slowly, the pieces of your heart that had shattered started to heal, one moment, one breath at a time.

And for the first time in a while, you felt a spark of hope for the future, knowing that with time and support, you’d find your way through the pain.

[spiderlandry]

Secrets Kept — Ethan Landry

in which you have a secret, and it’s not what ethan thinks.

Pairing: Ethan Landry x Spider-Woman!Reader (she/her pronouns used)

Warnings: minor gunshot wound, kind of escalates quickly?, mention of reader having no family (other than aunt may), slight angst, fluff, no ghostface (previous movies can still be canon i think), somewhat dialogue-heavy, mentions of Across the Spider-Verse events

Word Count: ~9k

Author’s Note: hey everyone, i do wanna apologize for promising to come back and then just. not. so im sorry for that! i have had some health/life troubles recently and long story short i won’t be releasing anymore fics after this. (i am not dying, dont worry, my energy just isnt the same). i also realized i just do not feel as passionate about writing as i used to. thank you for sticking with me, and i will keep all my fics up. for unfinished series i’ve written, anyone is free to write continuations if you wish. thank u so much again for making me feel so welcome here!!! feel free to talk to me in my inbox as i’ll be checking in periodically. and if there’s any interest, i’m willing to post unedited wips.

i guess i've come full circle because this fic was the reason i created this blog. it was unfinished so i never did post it, but i finally got some energy to do it! so enjoy (hopefully)

-

New York had been your home for a long time. All your life, actually. But sometimes, the rowdy, noisy city was suffocating.

However, swinging through the city, air resisting against your skin as you picked up speed—lifted the weight off your shoulders.

You changed in a secluded alley on the outskirts of the busyness in the big apple, not risking any neighbours seeing you go into the window of your apartment. The subway was crowded as it is all hours of the day, though you didn’t mind too much.

Closing the door behind you, you dropped your bag on the couch and looked for your roommate. “Quinn?” Your voice travelled throughout the place, bringing your roommate to her feet and outside her room.

“Hey, d’you just get back?” She smiled, leaning against the end of the hallway. “How was patrol?”

You sighed, opening the zipper of your backpack to pull out the bagel you got for her. “Yeah, it was alright. Nothing exciting.” you threw it to her, and she almost dropped it. “Got you a bagel. Thanks for covering for me.”

She scoffed in mock offence, “What did I say about throwing things? I don’t have your spider sensor, or whatever. But this is appreciated.” She took a bite, and you laughed at her remark about the spider-sense.

“Noted, sorry again.” You returned her grin. You knew she loved being in on the secret. She took joy in knowing the real identity of the masked vigilante, often covering for you around your friends when you had to leave very suddenly during movie nights and hangouts. But above all, she was a concerned friend. Always. Patched you up when you came home late at night, warned you when you were about to make a bad decision, told you to be careful before you left.

You often told yourself not to get too close. Making connections as a vigilante wasn’t ideal. Anybody who knew your identity was in danger at all times, and it didn’t help that you had a huge crush on her brother. You never uttered a word to her, but you could sense her observing you when you hung out with the friend group—not in a spidey-sense way, though, you could just feel it, even without the supernatural sense.

“Anything interesting happen while I was gone?” You asked, flopping down on the couch and turning on the tv, avoiding the news channels.

“Ethan missed you. It was kinda gross, actually. Wouldn’t stop asking where you were.” She grabbed a drink from the kitchen, disappearing from view.

You furrowed your brows, “You know I never believe you whenever you say anything about Ethan, right? Especially concerning me.”

“Not my problem, spidey. I never lie.”

“I could give you ten examples,” you chuckled.

“I never lie to you. Obviously I lie to everybody else.” She came back from the kitchen with a look.

“Is it because I’m special?”

“Obviously.”

You weren’t the nervous type. Maybe it was after you were bitten by the spider, you never really knew, but one of the main reasons Ethan may not have realized you have any semblance of feelings for him was because you acted normal around him like you did everybody else. Your schedules were different, so you rarely hung out with him for school reasons, meaning the only times he spent time with you was during group hangouts.

Including now. At his and Chad’s tiny off campus apartment.

He watched you play chess with Anika, Chad watching from the sidelines during a blitz game. Speed chess. He knew how to play chess. Maybe he should play with you, a thought grazed his mind.

As if his sister could read him, she appeared beside him and nudged him closer to the scene. “You should play.”

He looked at her with shock, “No, I’ll lose. I don’t wanna embarrass myself.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Since when has that stopped you? You never back down from a chess match, remember?” He did remember, years ago when his father taught him after Richie left for college. “It’s because you like her, isn’t it?”

He huffed. To try and prove her wrong, he went over to the coffee table and watched as you lost to Anika—maybe he has a chance.

It was his turn, now. He replaced Anika on the seat facing you, rearranging the chess pieces. “Pretty boy wants to play!” Chad exclaimed.

“Chad.” Ethan said in an almost warning tone. “What did I say about the nickname?”

You reset the chess clock. He looked at you—you were smirking—which was a mistake, because he didn’t realize you started his clock.

“Shit,” he moved a piece, fumbling. You grinned at him, and he realized he’ll do anything to see it again.

You didn’t lose your confidence, moving chess pieces to counteract his own moves.

During the middle game was when it dawned on him he was fucked.

It became clear to him you likely knew how to psych him out—just by smiling at him.

Little did he know, you smiled at him because his thinking face was adorable. But on his side, you were smiling every time he glanced at you. He had no other choice but to believe you were doing it to make him blunder, because he couldn’t make you usually smile like that, could he?

Quinn watched her brother fumble around you. Her plan worked. At least for tonight.

You ended up winning the game with ten seconds left on your clock and three on his.

You high-fived Chad, much to Ethan’s dismay, but you offered a handshake to his direction which he gladly accepted to feel your warm palm in his. Worth it.

He was mustering up to ask for a rematch when your phone buzzed on the counter, which Quinn reached to get before anyone could in case it was something spider related. And thank god she did, because it was. She gave you a nod, reading the notification about something happening downtown. You cringed internally, knowing the burden of covering for you would fall on your friend’s shoulders again. She packed your things and handed you the backpack, whispering ‘be safe’ as you take it from her, so nobody else would hear.

With a closing of the door behind you, a conversation in the room began, thanks to a suspecting Mindy.

“Why does she leave sometimes?” The woman looked to the strawberry blonde for an answer, suspecting that she knew more than she let on. “She never tells us.” They all settled on the couch as Chad flicked through streaming services for a movie and Ethan cleaned up the chessboard. He didn’t wanna seem to interested, but he was definitely actively listening for Quinn’s answer.

“Her aunt calls her sometimes to run some errands,” Quinn prayed they wouldn’t pry. She saw this coming because you’d been dealing with more calls recently and patrolling more often. There really was no other excuse for the spontaneous leaving. It was easier to cover if you were already not there—you’d be studying, grocery shopping, napping, or literally anything else.

“Aunt May?” Ethan piped up. You mentioned her once, saying you needed to get eggs for her.

“Yeah, Aunt May.”

“She never talks about her family.” Said Anika.

Quinn didn’t want to say anything else. “She’s just private, I think.”

“You know more about her than us, though.”

“Because I’m her roommate.”

Mindy’s eyes squint toward her. Tilting her head, she pursed her lips. “I think you’re lying.”

“Why would I be?”

“She’s left before, at like, one AM. Why would her aunt call her at that time?”

Quinn shrugged, feeling a little bit of panic setting in. “Who knows?”

“Is she hiding something?”

“No.” The word was so quick and curt, and that was when she knew she fucked up.

“You’re definitely lying.”

Everyone else, watching the interaction turning from teasing to tense, Sam stepped in. “Guys,” she interrupted. “If Y/N wants to tell us something, she would. I’m sure she has her reasons.”

Mindy had been suspicious for a long time. Not out of malice, she liked to think she had a naturally curious personality. She’d kept an eye on you every time you left, half because she wanted to know, but also because she was worried. Had you not been friends for long enough that you couldn’t tell them why you left or was sometimes missing?

Ethan thought similar.

It got weirder when he saw a glimpse of your name on Quinn’s phone, a call from you that she answered. She went to the kitchen to answer it. Mindy saw it too.

Ethan wasn’t proud of it, but he followed, to stay right behind the threshold of the kitchen and the cold tiled floor, listening to the conversation.

The audio from your end was inaudible, but Quinn’s responses were: “Yeah?” … “How bad is it?” … “No, I’ll be there.” … “Who cares if they get suspicious? You’re more important.”

He heard the call end and rushed back to his seat, to Quinn’s obliviousness. She grabbed her things.

“I’m tired, guys.” She announced to the group, Tara pausing the movie. “I’m gonna go home.”

“Oh,” Sam replied. “Well, be careful. Do you have your pepper spray?”

“Yes, Sam.” Quinn almost rolled her eyes at Sam’s protectiveness, but she knew it was out of real worry.

After his sister left, Ethan began the conversation this time. “I think Mindy’s right.”

Everyone turned to him.

“Quinn was talking to Y/N.”

Tara sat up. “You followed her to eavesdrop?”

Ethan shrugged, feeling scolded.

“Not cool, dude.”

“What did she say?” Sam asked curiously, now hooked. If Ethan mentioned it, it must have been important.

“Like…” A pause, “Q asked ‘how bad is it?’ then said she’ll be there. And then, like, who cares if they get suspicious.”

“They’re definitely hiding something,” Mindy stated. “But why?”

“My sister never hides anything from me. She always overshares, and I always hated it. But now she’s not. It’s probably not…good.”

“Are we sure we should talk about this?” Anika piped up next to Mindy. “Maybe it’s a problem with their apartment—a leak, or something.”

“But…” Chad spoke, “what about the suspicious part? And why would Quinn lie?”

At the same time, at your and Quinn’s apartment, you bled out on a towel placed on the couch from a gash across your stomach. You winced as your friend applied the bandage.

“Didn’t I tell you to be safe? What happened? You had a good streak going there for a while.”

“Quinn, please.”

“Also, not to alarm you, but they’re getting really suspicious. Mindy asked why you leave all the time.”

“Shit, she’s never asked that.” Your head fell against the end of the couch in defeat. “Maybe I should start distancing myself.”

Quinn’s head snapped up. “You’re not serious.”

“Dead serious.”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” You looked at her.

“It’s a really bad idea.”

“I’m trying to keep people safe. Keep you safe. Keep everyone else in the group safe.”

“What about Ethan?”

“Including him.”

“No—“ She scoffs, “I mean, you’d…break his heart.”

You had to stop yourself from laughing. “Quinn,”

“I’m serious.” And she actually was. She might have thought her brother was a nerdy asshole. But he was her brother. “And everyone would wonder where you are. You can’t avoid them forever.”

Sitting atop a random apartment building Monday morning, your sight helped you catch a glimpse of Ethan walking amongst a crowd of New Yorkers, bumping into people with a hand on the backpack strap on his shoulder. It had been a week since you talked to Quinn about possibly leaving the group.

After that, you stopped answering messages from them, much to her dismay. She still saw you at the apartment, looking at you with silent eyes hoping you’d realize your mistake and come around again. She knew you would.

Having everybody’s schedules memorized helped you avoid them—but Anika having the same major as you was your downfall. You skipped a class yesterday, and she texted the groupchat asking where you were.

Maybe it was creepy, but keeping an eye on your friends calmed you down. You wanted to be the one to make sure they were safe without having them try to do the same thing—this was why you never wanted to get close.

Unbeknownst to you, the group had a bet going.

Mindy thought you and Quinn were dating. Ethan thought something was up in your family life, maybe Aunt May was sick. Chad thought you were in a secret fight club (secretly worried). Anika was on board with Mindy’s theory. Sam refused to answer, and Tara was also silent.

Quinn came to your room that night. “Everybody’s worried about you.”

You looked at her with begging eyes. “I know, Quinn.” You sighed in defeat. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Either you tell them or not. Your choice. But you can’t avoid it forever. Everyone’s been giving you space, but they’re still thinking you’ll come around.”

You stared at her, them looked away, at anything else.

“One more thing—“ she said before she left, “don’t patrol tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I’m gonna be over at Isaac’s place. If you get hurt, I won’t be there. He thinks I’m cheating on him whenever I bail.”

You would never ask her to give up a part of her life for you, she knew you would agree. But she also knew you would never miss patrol.

“Fine, I won’t.”

She left knowing you would.

You should have listened. God, you should have listened.

Your wound from a few days ago had already healed thanks to your abilities, but another power you had was how many times you got injured in a short amount of time. Especially in the same spot. This time it was a real stab wound on your side, not just a gash a centimetre deep.

You couldn’t let yourself bleed out on the alley to be found dead and your friends to find out your identity through a news announcement that Spider-Woman was dead. You were about to swing back to your apartment—

Shit.

You didn’t have your civilian clothes. The window on the fire escape was locked. Your door was locked. Nobody was home. Idiot!

One choice. You forced your feelings down, hoping this was for the best.

Ethan and Chad’s were the closest.

With your heart pounding in your ears, holding it together and covering your wound, you knocked on the glass.

Chad came out of the hallway to furious sounding knocking on the window, thinking maybe a madman managed to climb up the fire escape and was trying to break in.

He certainly wasn’t expecting the masked vigilante of New York City to be the one on the other side of the glass. And she looked to be bleeding.

You were thankful it was Chad who answered and not Ethan. He coincidentally had Econ tonight, so that was actually a plus.

Chad opened the window. “Holy shit!”

“Look—“ You were breathing rapidly, unable to keep it together. “I’m sorry about this—“ You tried to change your voice hoping your friend wouldn’t recognize it.

“I’m gonna carry you now, okay?” He put an arm behind your back and another under your knees, trying to avoid touching the wound. “What the fuck?” You heard him whisper as he set you down on the couch.

He rushed to the bathroom for the med kit. “You’re lucky I have this,” He set it down on the floor, rummaging through it. “I play college football, I mainly have it for sprains. I never used the suture kit, but hey, first time for everything, right?” He rambled. Just as Chad does when he was nervous, also evident in the tremble of his voice.

“I heal pretty quickly, I just need stitches to stop it from bleeding.”

“Thank God. I don’t know how to operate on organs. What if you have internal bleeding?”

“Won’t matter. I’ll heal. I’d never let you touch my organs.” You joked.

“Glad to know Spider-Woman’s funny.”

You were careful not to call him by name on instinct. “What should I call you?”

“Your saviour.” He got the tools ready, “Kidding. I’m Chad.”

“‘Kay, Chad. Need me to walk you through it?”

“Yes—yes, that would be good, actually. You have medical experience?”

“If you call getting injured experience, yes.”

“This is gonna be a long night.”

Tara did not believe her boyfriend.

She was at his apartment, sitting on his bed, and he was pacing and rambling about Spider-Woman coming to this very place last night and asked the vigilante to save her. She stared at him crazy.

“Babe, you have to believe me!” He jumped up excitedly, he couldn’t keep it in.

“You didn’t get any proof?”

“She was bleeding! I stitched her up! Not really a great time to ask for an autograph or a picture.”

She smiled at him endearingly. “I wanna believe you, so, so bad.”

He came closer to her, “Please do.”

“She just happened to come here when Ethan was away?”

“Yes.”

She laughed, falling back on the bed.

“Please, babe!”

With good timing, a knock on the door took them away from the moment.

Tara went to get it, Chad on her tail.

And surprise.

It was Spider-Woman at the door.

You never intended on showing up, but the guilt consumed you and your feet brought you to a bakery and you’d purchased a dozen cupcakes before you knew it. You wanted to leave them at his door, but not trusting his neighbours, you decided to hand them over.

He wasn’t alone. You should have expected Tara. It was afternoon, and Ethan had a class early morning (why he picked it that early, you’ll never get.)

Tara’s eyes widened at the sight, immediately turning back to her boyfriend stopping him in his tracks. “Is this a prank?” She pointed a finger up at him.

Him not knowing who’s at the door, “What? Who’s at the door?” He walked past her and was equally shocked.

You lowered your voice again. “Uh,” you cleared your throat, “thanks for saving me last night.” You handed over the box of cupcakes.

“Are you joking?” Tara went to lift your mask, but you backed away. “Who are you?”

“Not a prank, promise!” You exclaimed. “This is…actually…me. Just wanted to say thanks. If not for him, I would have bled out.”

“Prove it.”

“Prove what?”

“You’re her.”

At that, you shot a web to the ceiling.

“Shit,”

“I wasn’t lying, babe.” You heard Chad whisper to her. And directed at you, “Glad I could help, spider. Come back anytime!” Tara playfully slapped him on the shoulder as you walked away.

“I’ll keep that in mind!”

You still hadn’t told Quinn about what happened last night. That was because you hadn’t seen her anywhere. She must have slept in at her boyfriend(?)’s place.

As you got home, your phone buzzed.

Bruno Mars Security Team

Chad

everyone !!!!!!!! please come over tonight !!!!!!! i have to tell you all something !!!!!!! im spiderwomans best friend now

Tara

well…

Sam

???

Quinn

Oh god

Ethan

What lol

Then, a personal message notification from Quinn.

Quinn

Wtf happened while I was gone you have to tell me

You

I HAD NO CHOICE

Quinn

Please actually come over to Chad’s. We all miss you even tho its only a few days like we’re all worried

You

i will

Chad had never been happier to see you. “You’re here! And you’re early!” He opened his arms for a hug, which you took. “I missed you!” You’d always been a little sister to him, despite being a few months apart, it mattered to him.

“Sorry I’ve been MIA,” You sighed, pulling away. “Just—dealing with stuff,” you cleared your throat.

Just then, Tara appeared and ran into your arms. You squeezed her tight, knowing she gave the best kinds of hugs. Her arms wrapped around your neck, head resting against your shoulder, fitting like a puzzle piece. “Talk to us anytime, okay?”

You nodded, ending the hug and closing the door behind you.

“What’s this about Spider-Woman?” You inquired, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“I have to wait until everyone gets here, you guys are gonna freak! And Tara is here to back me up.”

“Is that all I’m here for?” Tara teased.

“No, honey, you know it’s also because we’re using your Netflix login.”

You laughed at their antics as she flicked him on the forehead lightly.

Ethan happened to catch you right at that moment as he came out of the bathroom.

He was silent, but shot you a smile nonetheless, which you mirrored. He really did not know what to say. A feeling bubbled up inside him and he knew he wanted to talk to you alone.

You took your place at the very end of the couch, checking something on your phone as you waited for the others to get here. Unbeknownst to you, though, Ethan was looking at you trying to decide whether it was the right time to talk. Chad and Tara were whispering to themselves, betting on if he would actually say anything.

After a few seconds, your senses told you somebody was staring. Not in a dangerous way, or even remotely alarming, but you could still feel it. So you turned your head upward and saw the curly haired boy a standing awkwardly a few feet from you.

“What’re you doing?” You smirked, though not really in a smug way. It was more amusement than anything.

“Uh—nothing, I just—“ He wandered closer, sitting a few centimetres away from you. “I—we, the group, want you to know that we’re always here if you need anything. You can talk to us, alright? You don’t—just don’t deal with it alone.” He shrugged, “That’s it.”

Your face softened at his confession. Only if you could tell them without compromising their safety. “Thanks. I’ll…keep you posted.”

Ethan didn’t know what to do now that the conversation was seemingly over.

He was about to stand up until the door swung open, Quinn coming in along with Mindy and Anika who were carrying a few boxes of pizza.

“We’re here! And we brought food!” Mindy’s voice echoed throughout the apartment.

You were going to greet them but Anika beat you to it, seeing you on the couch and running over to hug you.

Mindy did the same, relieved to see you okay.

Quinn had a knowing smile on her face.

After the room settled down, Chad began to finally tell the story.

Needless to say, nobody believed him.

By the end of the night, long past midnight, you were getting ready to leave when Ethan asked you something.

“Are you going with Quinn?”

Mindy and Anika were waiting at the door, they both got a ride from your roommate since Mindy’s car broke down a few days ago.

“No, uhm—I think I’m gonna walk home. It’s only a few blocks.”

Quinn, upon hearing you, chimed in. “Really? You sure you don’t want to?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You shared a look with her that only the two of you knew. You turned to Ethan, “Why?”

“Can I walk you?”

You were surprised, to say the least. “Really?”

“So you’re safe.”

Preparing to protest, you felt Quinn’s hand on your arm. “Let him.”

So you did.

The walk home was brisk. The streets were empty, the street lamps illuminating your synchronized steps with Ethan.

With him, silence was never awkward. It was just…quiet.

It was no secret that you were perceptive, especially to your friends. Quinn knew why, but the others thought it was just you, not something caused by the spider bite. Your senses were especially heightened around Ethan.

You would never mention it, but you knew his heartbeat sped up when he got close to you. You only caught it a few times on accident trying to listen for something else, but you’d never actually do it on purpose.

Lately it seemed he was spending more time with you since the night you came back (which was three weeks ago at this point). One, he would message you on Discord asking if you wanted to do a study call—you never failed to say yes (making Ethan giddy). Two, he began to ask you things about your life during those calls when you would both take a break from studying. Like he wanted to know more about you.

Three, you began to spend time together outside the group.

Quinn was excited for you the first time you told her that you were going to see Ethan and only him. Of course, you told her not to read into it, but when has she ever listened?

Things were going fairly well. Especially with New York as a whole, nothing too major had happened (no supervillains, thank god), only a few robberies and cats stuck in a tree.

You were sitting atop a building when a tingling sensation in the back of your neck alerted you to something. Then, as you honed your hearing, you heard glass breaking a block away.

Swinging never got old.

As you reached your destination, a small bodega being robbed, you spotted him. Ethan.

Your heart began to pound in your ears, watching from the outside as the robber trained the gun on his hostages inside the bodega, one of them being Ethan.

It was like muscle memory. Go in, threaten the robber, and if it escalated, you fought him.

“I’m going to get rid of you, Spider-Woman!” The man in the mask hissed at you, his pistol trained right at your heart. This part didn’t scare you anymore, but Ethan being here—did. “If you come any closer…” He stepped away, instead pointing the gun at some old lady, who looked scared shitless. “I’ll shoot her!” He noticed you weren’t fazed at threats against you, so he targeted the next best thing: civilians.

“Easy, there, cowboy. Why don’t you point that gun at me? I thought you wanted to get rid of me.” You tilted your head, gauging the severity of the situation.

In your peripheral vision, Ethan stepped in front of the lady, trying to usher her to the side.

God, he was an idiot—but you’d be lying if you said that didn’t warm your heart.

The robber didn’t notice because he was still staring at you, watching for any sudden movements you’d make.

It happened in three seconds.

One, you shot the web to the gun, trying to pull it back to you.

Two, the gun went off—a slip of his finger caused by your web. Before you saw who it hit, the man came at you.

Three, you took him down, knocking him out.

It was the next second that you decided your life wouldn’t be the same.

You heard a hiss, a gasp from onlookers, and you took away the magazine of the gun before your head snapped up to where the hiss came from.

Ethan.

Red was the first thing you saw. It was on that yellow cardigan he wore when it was chilly—You rushed to his side, seeing the red come from his arm. He was backed up, leaning against the wall.

He was wide-eyed, face scrunched up in pain. “Shit,” He put pressure on his wound. “It hurt less than I thought it would.”

If only he could see how the tears lined your eyes under the mask.

“We need—“ You tried to keep your voice steady— “We need to get you to a hospital.”

“I’m fine,” He hissed again as you pressed harder on his arm. “It’s just a graze.” He saw your concern.

“No—It could’ve—it could’ve hit something vital—“ Despite your knowledge that it likely didn’t, your head was spinning and rational thought weren’t exactly on the table.

The sirens reached your ears before anyone else’s.

You took a deep breath. Your head cleared.

“The ambulance is gonna get here soon, uh—“ You cleared your throat. “Don’t move, okay?” You nodded to him, and left.

Okay, you didn’t actually leave. You stayed on a rooftop across the street, a few buildings over, seeing that he was okay as he got checked out by the paramedics.

That was when you actually left. For good this time.

The timing was almost perfect—the next day, an old friend came to see you.

You weren’t expecting anybody, hanging out in an abandoned building you found in the outskirts of Brooklyn when you were a teenager.

But a black hole opened up right next to you. Maybe not a black hole, but the closest thing to it.

That was when you saw Miguel O’Hara.

Quinn had no idea that, when she woke up that morning, it would be the week she spilled your secret to the friend group.

This is how it went down.

Last evening, she told you to be careful before you left for patrol. You never came back in the morning. She didn’t see any evidence of you being there, like your shoes haphazardly thrown across the floor near the front door, or your backpack on the couch. This had happened once before and she found out you were at your Aunt May’s house—so she just sent you a text and went on with her day.

It was also the day Ethan called her and told her that he was shot. Then he texted the groupchat about what happened and they all (including Quinn) rushed over to his and Chad’s apartment to see in person that he was actually okay. A bit of a freaky situation that Ethan was caught up in that, but everyone calmed down eventually. But when Ethan told the story, Quinn hoped your disappearance had nothing to do with his getting hurt. She also noticed that he was bummed about you not being there.

It was the second day she got worried. No sign of you. Nothing on the news about Spider-Woman, either.

Bruno Mars Security Team GC

Quinn

Anybody heard from Y/N?

Chad

aren’t you her roommate

Quinn

Hasn’t been home since Saturday.

Ethan

She hasnt answered any of my texts

Chad

okay now i’m worried

tara? mindy? anika? sam?

Mindy

nope. anika says no too

Sam

Not me or Tara. I’ll try calling her

She didn’t answer

Ethan

Quinn do u know where she’d go? maybe to a family member?

Quinn

I dont know her aunt mays address

Chad

let’s wait a day to see if she turns up. if not then we’ll get together to brainstorm

You weren’t there the next day, so everyone gathered at yours and Quinn’s apartment to see what could’ve happened to you.

They all stood around the kitchen island.

“Has everybody called her?” Chad said, arms crossed. “Texting her and everything?”

Everyone nodded.

“Quinn,” Tara began. “Have you checked her room?”

She looked down, almost ashamed. “I did, actually. Nothing.”

“Do you think we should…check again? Maybe we’ll find something.”

“I’m good at snooping, if you need.” Anika added.

Quinn’s eyes slightly widened, “No!” Calming down, “I mean—no. She doesn’t like other people going through her stuff. I can because I’m her roommate—not you guys.” At times of stress, this was the best she could come up with.

“Okay…” Mindy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How about an address to Aunt May’s place? Do you think we could find that somewhere?”

The realization dawned upon her—no way of getting to you. “No. But she would’ve told me if she was going there.”

“Look, Quinn.” Mindy sighed, “Can you just—be honest with us?”

The ginger nodded.

“What was the last thing she said to you?”

“I—she was going out to buy something.”

Ethan’s nostrils flared—he knew when his sister was lying. Why was she so adamant to hide your whereabouts, even if it meant you were in danger? He sighed.

“I’ve—“ Everyone’s heads snapped to Ethan at his interruption. “I’ve had enough of it, Quinn. What the fuck are you two hiding? Seriously.”

Safe to say there was nobody in that kitchen who wasn’t surprised at his sudden outburst. He didn’t care, though.

“You always fucking lie, Quinn. I can tell. Why don’t you think I can tell? She goes missing, and you’re still keeping a secret!”

Chad put a hand on his shoulder, “Dude.”

The boy took a deep breath, reminding himself where he was. “Sorry. For shouting, I mean. But you can’t just—ask us to look for her when we all know damn well that you know something we don’t.”

At that moment, she had two choices. She thought for a long moment before she couldn’t find a rational explanation as to why she shouldn’t tell them that you’re Spider-Woman—you could be dead by now.

She walked away, hearing Mindy say “Are you fucking serious?” right behind her.

They didn’t have to wait for long, because Quinn came back from your room with something in her hand. They examined the object as she threw it onto the counter.

It was a mask—Spider-Woman’s mask.

“Holy shit,” Sam was the first to say.

“Wanna know the secret?” Quinn crossed her arms. “There’s your fucking secret.” She directed it at Ethan, whose mouth was slightly open.

She took a deep breath, a similar trait to her brothers to calm herself down. “The night she left, she told me she was going on patrol. When she didn’t come back the next morning I thought she was fine. Now it’s the third day, nothing from her. Look—I might’ve—like, fucked up. I don’t know.”

“How?” Asked Mindy.

“I should’ve told you sooner.”

It was clear to them that Quinn must have had this weight on her shoulders for so long.

“I have…so many questions.” Said Chad. “So when…Spider-Woman came to my apartment, that was Y/N?” He grabbed the mask, analyzing it with his hands.

“Why do you think she came to yours? She knows you have that stupid med bag with the unused suture kit.”

“Is that why she always left?”

“Mhm.” She nodded. “I thought—things were getting better. She was getting close to us again, stopped patrolling some nights because of my brother’s stupid discord calls.”

Ethan was breathless. “What?”

“Look—point is: she didn’t want to put anybody in danger. If I didn’t find out by accident, she never would have told me. She just…cares about you guys too much. She thinks if you know she’s Spider-Woman, you’d be in danger.”

When Ethan came face to face with Spider-Woman in the bodega, it was you. That was your concern, practically radiating off of you in waves. He knew you seemed familiar, somehow. But everybody knew Spider-Woman. He knew you differently. You saved his life.

Everybody was taken aback by the news. But Sam, ever the leader, began. “She’s been protecting us this whole time. All of us. It’s time we have to do the same for her.”

“How?”

“We find her. In any way possible, even if it means we have to track down her entire family, go back to her high school friends, anything we can think of, okay?”

There was no doubt in anyone else’s mind that they were all on board with the plan.

“Let’s do it.”

ONE WEEK LATER

It was the first night in a week that Ethan got proper sleep. The exhaustion finally caught up to his body after countless sleepless nights spent poring over clues on how to find you. He’d been making progress on the Oscorp lead when the last thing he remembered was slumping over at his desk.

Which was why it was weird when he opened his eyes, he saw the ceiling. He was laying down in the comfort of his own bed. Maybe he actually went to bed and didn’t realize it. The sunlight peeking through the curtains was probably a sign to get up, get back on the investigation.

That was until he sat up and saw a figure at his desk, standing over some of the files he sorted.

It took him a second to see it was you. Was he dreaming?

“You’re finally up.” He heard the voice come from you, and saw your mouth move, and as he processed your sweet voice and the teasing lilt to it, he almost fell off his bed jumping out to rush over to you.

He almost knocked you over as his (surprisingly) muscular arms wrapped around you in a quick second, you returning the hug with a smile he could feel on his neck. He was almost speechless. Almost.

Slightly pulling away, he got a good look at you, unharmed, grinning at him with the power of a million suns. He kept his arms around your waist, keeping you close as if he was afraid you’d disappear once more. Nonetheless, he mirrored your expression as he felt your breath on his face and your arms looping around his neck, running your hands through his soft curls.

“You’re…here. You’re actually here.”

Your soft hand came to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat along with hearing it.

“I’m sorry I left.”

The boy shook his head, “What matters is you came back. You always did.”

“I always will, Ethan.”

YESTERDAY

It was early morning and the feeling of defeat was strong in the room. Everyone was there at your and Quinn’s apartment all with one goal: to find you. They’d started this search almost a week ago with a determination in their eyes akin to a fight for survival, mainly because it kind of was. But as the days went on and the meetings at the house got longer to discuss other possibilities surrounding the circumstances of your disappearance, the metre to measure the disappointment was getting higher.

They all sat at the couch, flipping through the news channels, all talking about how Spider-Woman hasn’t been seen in over a week. It was an alarming wake up call for the city, because crime rates had gone up significantly without the friendly neighbourhood spider watching over the residents of the city that never sleeps.

The news anchors all echoed a similar message. Where is Spider-Woman? Many have theorized that this may be the end of an era—

Sam clicked the red button on the remote, the screen turning to black. “We can’t give up.”

“I didn’t wanna have to, but—“ Tara sighed, “We said if we can’t come up with anything, we’d get the police involved.”

Chad slumped right next to her. “What are we supposed to tell them? Hey, our friend’s been missing for a week and we’re just now reporting it. And FYI, she’s the vigilante who does your job for you.”

“Not like that.”

“But we can’t tell them she’s her, right? If they find her, she’d be arrested.”

“If they find her alive, that is.” Mindy added grimly, looking at the ground.

“Dude, come on.” Her brother tapped her arm.

“I’m just saying.”

“Quinn, Ethan.” Tara refocused the conversation, “Your guys’ dad is a cop, right?”

They looked at each other before nodding.

“Can you talk to him? You don’t have to tell him anything just—find out if anything happened lately, okay? Anything new.”

Anika added, “We’re not even on the week mark. It’s tomorrow. How about we focus on our leads today, then meet again tomorrow. If there’s really nothing, we’ll go to the police, okay?”

“That sounds good.” Ethan agreed.

“Alright,” Sam exhaled. “Dismissed.”

Everyone was sleepless that night. There was the obvious tell of the bags under everyone’s eyes growing bigger, not to mention the slouching and the less than ideal attention span they had lately.

Quinn’s eyes were wide open in the dark of room, wondering and hoping you weren’t dead in some back alley somewhere.

A sound in the living room broke her out of a dazed stupor. It wasn’t too loud, but not subtle, either.

On edge, her hand shot to grab the bat right next to her bed, a gift you’d given her for self defense purposes. She was careful not to make any sound, clearly unlike this moron who was breaking into her house on the middle of the night with heavy steps.

The fridge was open, the door hiding the figure of the person behind it.

She was ready to swing—

You. The figure closed the fridge door and it was you in your suit.

Maybe it was the lack of food that caused you not to notice her presence immediately, but you heard the clacks of the wooden bat hitting the floors before you clocked your roommate fully embracing you in a bear hug.

“Quinn!” You chuckled, returning the embrace. “Missed you too.”

She pulled away abruptly after a second, a stern look on her face but a layer of worry in her eyes. “Where the hell have you been?” She grabbed your shoulders and pushed back a little, looking over your entire body, checking for injuries—but you were clean. Not even a scratch. “Shit, you’re okay.”

“I—“

She hugged you again.

That was when you realized why she reacted like this. “How long have I been gone?”

She looked at you like you were crazy. “You’ve been gone a whole week.”

“Shit. I didn’t leave a note, did I?”

The guilt on your face was apparent, but it was nothing compared to the stress everyone had gone through while you were away.

“You didn’t. All of us have been looking for you—“ Something dawned on her. “I…had to tell them.”

You didn’t react the way she expected. She expected you’d be upset—angry, even, but not this. Not you being the one to hug her this time, taking a deep breath.

During the embrace, you spoke, your voice vibrating on her shoulder as your head rested against it.

“It was so stressful, out there. I have so many things to say. But I’m so tired—I wanna explain everything later.” You sighed, “How’s Ethan?”

“He’s okay. I’ll drive you to his place tomorrow, okay?”

Mindy, Chad, Tara, Anika, and Sam all woke up in their respective apartments to a text message in the group chat.

Quinn

Can we all meet at Chad’s place today? In a few minutes. Urgent!!!

After the conversation yesterday, they all expected the worst. Maybe Quinn had gotten information from her cop dad that Spider-Woman was found dead—they were all thiniing it. Ethan, however, having been up until late, was still sound asleep, phone on silent mode.

They met at the front door of the apartment building (of course, except for Chad, who was in his bedroom staring at the text in worry), Sam looking among the group to reassure them. “Guys,” She sighed. “Maybe if’s not bad news.”

Mindy turned to her. “Really?” She sounded exhausted, almost ready to give up.

“If Quinn had really bad news, she would’ve called us. Probably, right?” Tara backed her sister up.

“Let’s just…go in. She’s probably not even here yet.”

Just then, the sound of a car approaching quickly caught their attention—Quinn’s car.

Tara was at the end of the group, giving her the advantage of seeing first who was in the passenger seat of the car, getting out.

“Y/N!” She yelled.

The rest of them turned, almost running to the middle of the street as you closed the car door, leaving Quinn to find parking. You ran to the sidewalk, running into Tara’s arms.

You could feel the warmth radiating from the group as they welcomed you back with open arms, feeling guilty that you must have made them worry for them to react like this. Knowing some of their history with the murders in Woodsboro, it must’ve been terrifying for them to think they could’ve lost another friend.

It wasn’t long until you felt the missing piece, a hole amongst them that resembled a shape in your heart: Ethan.

“Where’s Ethan?” You tried not to show panic, but it was likely obvious due to Anika immediately reassuring you.

“He’s okay! He’s fine—he’s just sleeping.”

You sighed, relief taking over. “He doesn’t usually sleep in this late.”

“He was up late last night, he said he got a good lead on you. He…” She contemplated for a moment, not wanting to worry you. “He took it pretty hard when you dropped off.”

Tara almost slapped her arm. “Yeah,” she looked to you, watching carefully for any signs of panic. “He was worried. Probably more than any of us. But you can wake him up.”

“Do you…Can you tell us what happened? Where were you?” Mindy was reluctant to ask in case it was difficult for you.

But you were happy to tell them—you figured you owed them that much after having them think you were dead for a week. “I’ll tell you inside, come on.”

Pizza and drinks were being passed around, everyone was here, and you chose to sit right beside Ethan. He couldn’t stop looking at you. You could feel it.

As you animatedly told the story of meeting other people who also had spider powers, had similar stories, Ethan then began to wonder what would be next. Would you stay? What if you wanted to go back there, be with people who really, truly understand you?

By the end of the night, the group was preparing for the sleepover. But you could tell something was troubling Ethan. You studied him from the couch while the crew was gathering pillows, and he caught your eye and said, “Wanna go to the rooftop?”

You tilted your head on instinct, confused.

“You know…good air.” He shrugged.

“Sure.”

The walk up was silent. Maybe more than silent, if that were even possible.

As he opened the door to the rooftop, you made eye contact for half a second. And in that half second, Ethan decided he won’t lose you. In that half second, you looked away, then looked up again—and he gently grabbed your wrist, pulling you close enough that you felt his breath on mingling with yours, so close that you thought he was going to kiss you. But he began to speak.

“Can I—”

And you kissed him.

It was a small one, but when you tilted your head to lean in closer and tangled your hands behind his neck—Christ.

You pulled away abruptly and he wondered if he had done something wrong. At the same time he said “Holy shit,” you asked, “Wait, that’s what you were going to ask, right?”

Once his brain recovered, he finally nodded, “Yeah. You beat me to it.”

After a pause, he began again. “Does this mean you won’t leave?”

“Leave? Who said that?”

“Well, I just thought—”

“You’re an idiot, Ethan Landry. Come here.”

Additional Author’s Note: I apologize that Ethan and Reader do not have as many moments in this. Thank you for understanding. Again, if there’s enough interest, here’s a list of fic titles I’d be able to post wips of (keep in mind these are unfinished, you’re allowed to write continuations but my one wish before leaving this site is that my work is not fed into any kind of AI and that includes character ai):

blackout (2k)

dialogue (2k ish)

the dress (900)

rain (1k)

story beats for murder party part 2 (3.2k, jot notes)

reflections (2k)

the bear au (500 ish)

thief (800)

like a fool, im thinking of you (500)

avatar:

hard to love (2k, lo’ak)

sorry for any mistakes i didnt catch during editing !

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Restless Night

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: An impulsive phone call leads to a happy ending

Word Count: 1307

Warnings: Slight angst, smut, pet names, little to no (y/n), mentions of missions, lemme know if i missed anything  

A/N: MCU!Peter - I do plan to write something for TASM!Peter in the future but this was just easier for my brain to set up the scene. I wanted to do something different and challenged myself to write something that was more dialogue-heavy than I’ve written in a while. Not my best work, but a little smutty smut bc why not

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

The soft sound of the television playing a forgotten movie almost drowned out the sound of the phone ringing, tucked under a pillow and muffled. The sweet cusp of sleep was only moments away, being dragged out by the vibrating as the first call ended and a second came through. 

The near unconsciousness caused forethought to be left behind, grabbing the phone, answering the call, and putting it to your ear. A soft "hello?" was all you could muster. 

"Hey, baby."

A tsunami of emotions flooded through your body, suddenly wide awake and hyper aware of everything that was going on; The television was nearing the end of the movie you had put on, your clock reading 1:32, the lights from the cars passing by casting various dancing shadows around your room.  

"I've missed you, baby." 

His voice was sweet, almost addictive and something you hadn't realized was a need buried deep inside you. You shuffled, forcing yourself up and sitting against the squishmallow he'd won for you on your first time, something you hadn't been able to get rid of. 

"Hi, Peter," you voice was quiet, sleep still etched between the syllables. There was a beat of silence between the two of you, "Peter, why'd you call? It's been 10 months."

Peter let out a soft sigh, you could hear him shuffling around. "Missing you really bad tonight, love. M' on a mission," there was another sigh, "I almost got hurt, like really hurt. Thankfully Bucky was there. All I could think about was you."

"Peter!" You voice was now much louder, instantly filled with worry, "Don't go and get yourself ki-"

He cut you off, "I wasn't tryna get hurt, baby. We got ambushed. We had just went in there for me to copy some information onto a drive. Ended up being some rogue Hydra agents, a leg of them we didn't even know existed." Peter was rambling and he knew it, he was starting to think the reason he called was a bad one. 

You sighed, body riddled with a million different emotions, "Pete, why'd you call me?"

"I miss you," his words had a slight whine to them, "I wanna touch you so badly, wanna hold you and kiss you."

If he was there you would have undoubtedly melted into him. The breakup was mutual, but difficult nonetheless. Between trying to focus on your career and all of the responsibilities Peter had, it was near impossible to maintain a relationship - there was no time for date nights or dinner, no time to sit and reminisce and talk about the future. For months, the only time spent together was sleeping in the same bed, which was almost always disrupted by some responsibility. 

You two loved each other, loved each other more than yourselves most days. But it had become too taxing and tiring, the constant worrying, near lack of support because attention was needed elsewhere. So, after a long, tearful date night gone wrong, the two of you agreed to break up, maybe try again when there were less things counting on you both. 

Peter regretted it immediately, but he had wanted to give you space, give you time to flourish and not worry about him. He'd asked M.J. and Ned all the time what you had been up to, he would check your Instagram and Snapchat to see the things you were posting and proud of. He did whatever he could to support you from afar. 

But tonight, tonight he dared to be selfish, he needed to be selfish. Deep down he knew it was wrong, calling you up in the middle of the night because the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins and all he wanted was to be with you. 

"I miss you too, Pete." Your voice was soft again, it always was in moments like this. Where the intimacy lay just behind every fiber in your body. 

He hummed, starting to get antsy as he continued to try to figure out how to say what he wanted. "Baby, can you do me a favor?"

"What is it, Pete?" You almost hated how quickly you answered, how eager you were. 

"Touch yourself, sweetheart. I wanna hear you touch yourself."

The gasp that left you was audible. Peter was never incredibly bold, never the type to initiate unless you two were definitely alone. Even in those moments, it was always sweet and loving. But this, Peter calling in the middle of the night, a desperate whine to his words and an insane neediness that make his tone demanding. 

“Baby, if you don’t want to, you can just hang up. I won’t be upset with you.” You could hear some ruffling and the sound of metal hitting the floor. “I just miss the pretty sounds you make, miss the way your face scrunches up, miss the feeling of your skin against mine.”

This wasn’t a command you were going to disobey. He was still rambling, your mind only half paying attention to the honey-like words he was saying. “Do you want me to use my hand or one of my toys?”

He paused for a moment and you could practically hear the smile spread across his lips. “Use your hand, sweetheart. Run you hands across your body like I would.”

You could hear the moment Peter wrapped his hand around himself, a small groan leaving his lips. You listened to him, it being nearly impossible not to. "Wish you were here, Petey," the words slipped out of you as your fingers danced across your skin, sending goosebumps in their wake. 

Your eyes were pinched shut, listening to every whimper and sigh the came through your phone, doing your best to pretend your own touch was his. "Me too, God, me too. Miss kissing your skin, hearing your little gasps when I nip."

"Peter," you couldn't help but whimper, forgoing anymore teasing and quickly giving your clit the much needed attention. It never took long with Peter for you to become needy and impatient, let alone when it had been almost a year since you heard the noises he was making, "I'm not gonna last long, want you so badly," your words were gasped out between soft moans, instant pleasure radiating from your core already making your body warm.

"Me neither, baby," there was a low groan that slipped from him, strangled as he attempted to hold himself together. With every sound you made, he nearly felt like he was in a dream. But he knew this was real, his subconscious hyper aware of the thin walls in the shitty hotel he was holed up in for the night and the super soldier who undoubtedly could hear him. 

A endless stream of "fuck"s, gasps, moans, and whimpers flooded through each phone. It only took a few more minutes before the coil burst and the warmth of your high shook through your body, thighs quaking and chest heaving. Peter followed suit, a breathy moan of your name as he spilled into his hand and all over his abdomen. 

There was a lingering silence as the  other of you recovered, both taking in what has just happened while relishing in the aftermath. Peter broke the silence first, "Need to get m'self cleaned up," he mumbled. There was another beat of silence from him, "I do really miss you."

You hummed your agreement, shifting yourself into a more comfortable position. "I do really wish you were here." 

He huffed out a small laugh, a sound that was laced with relief and contentedness. "I'll be home tomorrow at 4. I still got my key, I'll bring dinner, and we can talk. How does that sound?"

Now it was your turn to laugh, excitement filling every nerve in your body. "It sounds like a date."

[zvdvdlvr]

— Leaning to Live Again.

— 🪻. Synopsis. It’s been four and a half months since your fall. You’re starting physical therapy, and the team (and your husband) is there for you every step of the way- as Aaron gets started on filing a product liability lawsuit.

— 🪻. Warnings. Foul language. Frustrated reader. Female reader. Welder reader. Husband Spencer. Physical therapy. 1.6k fic. Mildly rushed ending. Not mych dialogue. I have no physical therapy experience, so I apologize for any incorrect terms/activities/phrases. Pet names.

— 🪻. Extra. Welder!Reader is getting a lot of love :))) Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

— 🪻. Other Welder!Reader fics. Lunch Break. Alive and Breathing.

You spent five weeks in the ICU, four of them in a medically induced coma. The doctor said that it was so you actually gave your body time to recover; the first few weeks after surgery was always the rockiest stage of any major injury.

Spencer spent every waking hour with you, if you were conscious or not. He read to you, had conversations with you, and told you anything that came to mind because he knows you love his voice. After three nights straight at the hospital, the nurses practically begged Spencer to go home, rest, recuperate, and get cleaned up. And Spencer admits, he felt a lot better after going back to your shared home.

When the doctors decided it was time to wake you up, Spencer was all but shoved out of the room. Something abour “not overwhelming her” or something. Spencer wasn’t listening anyway. After texting JJ, she told Spencer she’d let everyone know the news as they were currently in South Dakota catching a serial rapist and killer. And then Spencer resolved to pacing, reciting each song lyric you told Spencer reminded you of him. He repeated the few poems he had gotten you to read, voice softening as you read the words. And Spencer repeated the vows you and him had written for each other, remembering your face and your voice, the way you stood and how you smelled. He relived it as you were being pulled out of the darkness of your unconscious.

“Dr. Reid?” The nurse asked, pausing Spencer mid-step. He watched a few other nurses file out, and Spencer felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

“Yes?” He answered, breath held.

“Mrs. Reid is awake. You are more than welcome to go in there, but don’t put her on any additional stress.”

Spencer had barely said ‘thank you’ before he was hightailing it to the side of your bed. He felt the wind rush out of his lunge when he saw you blinking harshly, eyes trying to adjust to the light.

“Hey sweetheart,” Spencer whispered, tears trailing down his cheeks. He sat down and carefully took your callused hands in his.

You cleared your throat. “Hi,” you said finally, voice gravely from disuse. “You okay?”

A watery laugh bubbled out of Spencer. “You fall off a building and you ask me if okay. Baby, I love you so much.”

“Takes more than a fall to take me away from you, husband,” you murmured, letting your hand trace Spencer’s cheek. “But… how is everyone doing? I heard some of the things you guys said when I was… out, but I want to hear from you.”

The genius looked away, salty tears dampening his beautiful eyelashes. “Hotch is planning to prosecute the guys who made the safety harness that you wore because we all know you never would have worn something that was unsafe or had been recalled. We’ve just…” Spencer sniffled, turning his head to look back at you, “I guess we’ve just kept busy.”

You hummed. “How long will I be out of the showbusiness?”

Spencer looked at you, your eyes tired despite all the sleep you had been getting. He knew your world would shatter when he told you that you’d be in recovery for at least another year and a half. Your lipped twitched- an attempt to get the man you loved to smile. Yet again Spencer felt his heart crack: this was going to break you. “Doc says… about two years.”

The pointer finger still tracing Spencer’s face stilled. Your face blanked and Spencer felt the ari leave his lungs at how you looked at him. “What did you say?”

Spencer took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles as his tears fell onto your own and then slid down down down to the cold hospital floor. “Two years, baby.”

“Years. Tw-Two years,” you repeated in a whisper. “Two years.”

Spencer’s eyes shut. Your head fell back on the pillow, eyes boring holes into the ceiling as your own tears welled in your eyes.

“I know, baby, I know,” Spencer cried as you wept silently.

“You got this, wife,” Spencer whispered, pecking the crown of your head before going to stand across you, metal bars on either side of the wheelchair you carefully stood from.

It was your twenty third day of physical therapy, and boy was it hell. Your entire bottom half hurt, feeling as if fire consumed your muscles as you shakily got used to being on your feet again. Your back hurt the worst, though. You tried to play it off the best you could, but when the shooting pain took hold of the sensitive nerves of your spine, you couldn’t do more than screw your eyes shut andprace your head for the inevitable fall.

It had been getting better, you thought. Taking your first six steps was getting easier. Getting out of the pool was easier, and you could stand up without yelping in pain. But still, as you pushed through eveey PT session, you couldn’t help but feel disgusted at yourself for not being able to do basic human activities.

Spencer really atuck to his vows, remaining steadfast at your side through everything. He was at your every beck and call, updating you on your coworkers and all the other people you’d grown close to as a welder and as a woman. Spence took pride being able to help you, being your rock as you always are for him.

Aaron was actively prosecuting the company that produced the faulty equipment. As requested by Spencer, Aaron didn’t tell you much. It was better in both of their minds that you focused on recovery and not having Hotch dumb down the details of legal stuff- not that you were dumb, you just weren’t as educated as Spencer and Aaron. Obviously.

Penelope made a point to bring you food every other day. With her she brought a big hug, warm smile, and hot tea. You listened closely to the gossip she had to share, grateful that she didn’t try overly hard to comfort you- she was just like a sister in that way.

Emily stopped by when she could, but understandably had other plans for her time off; i.e.: napping. When she came Emily brought a book or two she had seen and thought of you about or a magazine.

J.J. tried as hard as Penny did, bringing Henry and Will whenever possible. You appreciated the family, feeling fully accepted as J.J.’s soul sister, despite only knowing Spencer’s coworkers for almost a year. Henry had clicked with you right away and told you stories as he snuggled up to you in the hospital bed. When he fell asleep, Will and J would make conversation with you.

Derek had dinner with you and Spencer every weekend. He brought something new every time and always shut sown your protests at how expensive it must have been, aspecially since the three of you combined could eat $300 worth of food- having fast metabolism and being an athletic person was worth bragging about while shoving half pound birgers into your mouth. Despite just the good food, Derek made sure to talk with just you, offering a deep conversation or a lightheard bickering session, letting you know you weren’t alone.

Rossi visited every time he had time. David had grown fond of you and your personality. You were a hardworking, sincere, and (painfully) honest person. All admirable traits, Rossi thought. He always brought flowers, chocolate, and a milkshake/smoothie for you. Though his visits were shorter in comparison to Derek’s or Penny’s, David visited more frequently. He filled you in on details of the lawsuit Aaron was working on, staff drama, and other fatherly conversation.

Slowly, the months passed.

60 more days passed before the hospital finally brought up your discharge.

Through all that time you had managed to re-gain the ability to walk, run, swim 2 laps uninterrupted, and were improving daily.

You were proud of your progress, but especially thankful of all the people that had stood by your side the entire way. Your eyes burned just thinking about the love Spencer’s family your family had for you.

When one of the nurses you had grown close to finally brought up your discharge, you threw your arms around her and practically cried tears of joy. Spencer kept his composure better, but you could see the shine in his eyes as he discussed the details as you pulled yourseld away from the nurse.

The team was on a case when you reported back to them, but J.J. and Derek immediately set up a quick video call to voice their happiness. Even Aaron stepped in frame, a warm smile on his face as he spoke of how happy he was for you. David showed up right at the end. You swear you saw a tear roll down his cheek as he told you how proud he was of you, how strong you are, and how thankful he is that you’re okay.

Beside you, Spencer ran his hands through your hair with a shaking hand. He, too, cried.

It was two weeks later when you shoved your bags in the back of your truck (you insisted it be the vehicle Spencer drove home) and left the hospital.

“I love you Spencer Walter Reid.”

The two of you stood, leaning against each other, in front of your home. The feeling of Spencer’s warm body under your touch made you feel alive- electric, even. You felt like you could do anything as you carried your own bags into your own home with your own husband.

With Spencer by your side, you were finally learning how to live again.

[burrowdarling]

Welcome to the Prompt List

Hey there!

Below is a list of dialog prompts that can be requested for a blurb or headcanon. I do have a few guidelines:

*please read before requesting*

➭I’ll be doing each prompt request on a first come first serve basis, as to not get too many repeats (depending on interest)

➭I’ll allow a maximum of 2-3 prompts together to ensure there are plenty of options (used prompts will be crossed off)

➭If there is anything specific you would like to be included, please mention it with your prompt request.

➭Just because a prompt is under a certain theme doesn't mean it has to be, just specify if you'd like something different

Any other questions? Feel free to reach out. Otherwise, request away!

Fluff

“You’re so cute when you blush.”

“Everything alright?” “I just missed you.”

“Rough day? Can I make it better?”

"Have I told you I love you today?" "Yes, but please say it again."

“There is no better way to start the day than seeing your face.”

Flirting + Teasing

“It’s so cold, you should hold my hand, so it doesn’t freeze.” “I’m not that cold, I can give you my gloves if you want.”

“Annoying you is what I’m best at.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me?” “Yes. Is it working?” Requested

“It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

“Oh, you’re so jealous. This is great to watch.”

Romance

"You're so red all of a sudden. Did I say something wrong?"

"I've never seen you not happy." "Maybe I've always been in good company when you've seen me."

"I thought you didn't like the show." "Yeah, but you like watching it, and I don't exactly hate it..."

“I need just one date.” “You think you can woo me with just one date?” “Absolutely.”

“You kissed me.” “You kissed me back.” “And I’m not here to apologize.”

Angst

“Just look at me. Forget everything else.”

“You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Just close your eyes. I will still be here when you open them again.”

“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”

Steamy

“Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.” Requested

“The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused is making me lose my mind.”

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

“Let’s go, I’ll buy you dinner. And maybe breakfast.”

“Tell me what you would want to do, if you were here right now.”

credit to @creativepromptsforwriting for the dialogue starters

[agirlandherquill]

the sixteenth day of writemas

day 16 is here! today's post comes to you while i'm eagerly awake awaiting my village's yearly tradition of the tin can band (which i recently discovered has been a thing for 300 years - isn't that something?) so while i wait for the spirits to be warded off i thought i'd make today's prompts somewhat creepier than usual, and i can't wait to see what you all come up with!

the rules, for those of you that are new or simply need a refresher: choose a prompt from the list, write something and share your creation with the rest of writeblr, and share the game with others, because as we all know writing is a gift and it deserves to be shared! and of course, tag me in your responses because i cannot wait to see them!

p.s - the game is open to all, as discussed in the invitation post - which, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, is still being monitored for newcomers and late additions - all are welcome to the game!

now for the part you're all here to see - the prompts!

Prompt List:

Dialogue Prompts:

"Do not let them find you."

"I have been faithful all my life... Where is that faith now? Where does it guide me in darkness?"

"Surrender, it is your only hope, your only salvation."

Setting Prompts:

An altar

A crypt

A crumbling rooftop

Narration Prompts:

She threw herself against the wall, away from the creature drooling at the hem of her gown, and into the light. It was only a heartbeat before she longed for darkness again.

He twisted and turned in every direction, following the screams coming from deep within the fog. They were coming closer, soon they would have him.

The wicked rose from their slumber, evil singing in their veins.

Feeling Prompts:

The hiss of the wind

The crash of thunder

The stirring of darkness

(because i'm insanely overeager, this post like its predecessor will be going live at 00:01 UK Time, apologies to those of you that receive it early but hey, early presents are still pretty good presents :) )

eagerly awaiting your creations, and as always, happy holidays!

~ A Girl And Her Quill

the invitations have been received so here you all are, i bestow upon you the gift of writemas! p.s if you want to be added to the tag list, interact with this post <3

@365runesofthesystem @glasshouses-and-stones @tildeathiwillwrite @nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings

@willtheweaver @theverumproject @phoenixradiant @thatuselesshuman @melpomenelamusa

@loverboyxbutch @i-hate-happy-endings @corinneglass @whatwewrotepodcast @aalinaaaaaa

@aseriesofsmallthings @kelseyjade @lauravanarendonkbaugh @i-do-anything-but-write @nuclearr-wessels

@95angeltears @sunflowerrosy @thebadphilosopher @ellowynthenotking @xarrixii

@the-ellia-west @myniceisniceblogbloglog @kitty-is-writing @girl-with-bones @crimsonlyinglilly

@fantasy-things-and-such @shiningstars-world @purplehandshumanfeelings @mxxnlightwriting @aquadestinyswriting

@17panicattacksinatrenchcoat @seastarblue @sacratos @afyerarchive

@sabba-tumbling @aurumni-writes @burntblanc @angelfevr @lead-to-code

@inkoherentbabeler @selfemployedmess @theeccentricraven @sarandipitywrites

@kaylinalexanderbooks @rickie-the-storyteller @grace-thomas @wonda-ch @nyoxy-ghostie

@calliecwrites @happypup-kitcat24 @woodnymphdancinginmoonshine @storycraftcafe

@rhikasa @buffythevampirelover @moltenwrites @vesanal @foyle-writes-things

@thesorcerersapprentice @diabolical-blue @elsie-writes @pepsiwriteswords @sharkblizzardblogs

@zmwrites @satohqbanana @avian-king @wordwizards @theimperiumchronicles

@ryns-ramblings @thewritingcoroner @the960writers @m-r-levine @writingsfromspace

@detective-bird @k--havok @saharasunset @the-letterbox-archives @katwritesshit

@thebookishkiwi @that-expat-girl @lyssthewriter @elligatorrex @fablesandfragments

[ugotcooneycrossed]

always willing to provide mlt reqs 🫡🫡 let’s have number 7&8 off the dialogues?

a/n: thats why i love you😌

"Couldn't you wait to kiss me at home?"

"Please, I don't want the rain getting both of us sick. I volunteer to be tribute--take my jacket."

you welcome maya back home from australia with a big sign, balloons, and flowers.

she flushes bright red, and quickly takes the sign from your hands. still- she wraps you up in a tight hug, face smushed up against you neck.

"hi."

"hi."

its quiet between you- the airport bustling around you as people reunite, and bid farewells.

but all you can focus on is maya- your girl.

you still hold onto her hands, rubbing your thumb softly over them.

you speak softly to her in the loud airport.

"i really did miss you, the bed was cold without you."

"my poor girl."

maya fakes concern and you narrow your eyes at her.

"you going to do anything about that superstar? what? you leave for australia and it's like you've forgotten me."

you fake hurt- and scream when maya picks you up.

"you know i'm kidding."

-

"i have to say i did not miss this weather."

maya comments from across the table- your sat for dinner and she's holding you hand across the table.

"yeah?"

"mmh, you'd love it there- i'll take you some day."

"wow- i'm really living that wag life now huh? you paying for dinner too?"

"was thinking of doing a runner actually- i could get away."

"and leave me behind? wow."

she laughs- and you take a second to admire her, you really have missed her so, so much. she throws her head back, and drops your hand to slap the table.

-

she does end up paying- or, at least thats what you hope she's doing.

you're waiting for her in the foyer of the restaurant and watch the rain come down.

when she comes back out, she's acting funny and you narrow your eyes at her.

"wow look at the rain- here babe, please, I don't want the rain getting both of us sick. I volunteer to be tribute--take my jacket."

you grab hold of it- eyes still narrowed.

"all paid?"

you question.

maya looks to the side before booking it out into the rain.

"hey!"

you run after her, eventually catching up to where she's stopped in the middle of the street, smiling at you like a maniac.

you go to hit her arm softly- but she catches your fist, bring it down to you side. her hands cup your cheeks and she kisses you- right there, in the middle of the rain, in the middle of the street.

when she finally pulls away, you notice how you're both soaked.

"couldn't you wait to kiss me at home?"

she shakes her head no.

[so-sures-blog]

to love and to learn

I’ve had this request since 2022 and had half done for more than a year now. Sorry it took so long! 😭

Summary: (to have and to hold)

Zoey navigates her relationship with Mike and co. throughout the year, learning that just because things are tough doesn’t mean you shouldn’t hold onto who they are.

A girl with a heart as big as hers shouldn’t be afraid to speak it.

| he is so many things. he is everything. she loses her heart and gets it back, this time ready to hold on. |

*♥️*🩵*

Mal (Spring)

Zoey unlocked the door to her place, purposefully making more noise than necessary as she closed the door and placed all her belongings on the table.

“I’m back!” She called out.

The empty house said nothing back and Zoey sighed, heart sinking. She didn’t know what she was expecting, to be honest. Her house was always empty, always silent, always dark. Normally, that would be any teenager's dream, but Zoey had always felt constricted when she was alone — like she was one tug away from panicking.

Separation anxiety, is what Courtney would call it. Neglect.

Zoey the Lonely, is what the elementary school kids called her.

It wasn’t like Zoey’s parents were bad or anything like that. They were just … never around. They were busy with work and away on trips often, which was fine because they were making money and putting a roof over her head. So Zoey didn’t say anything when they didn’t call her and she always smiled when the neighbors asked how her parents were and if she was fine …

Zoey shook her head out of the thoughts she wandered in. She had friends — close friends, better than anything she could have asked for — and that was enough.

Zoey walked over to the fridge and opened it — only to find absolutely nothing at all. Zoey quickly began looking through the shelves in the pantry and resisted the urge to sigh.

Right, she was supposed to go grocery shopping like, a week ago, curse finals for making her forget —

Zoey grabbed her wallet, keys, and phone and walked out of the house even though it was midnight.

Anything was better than being alone in an empty house.

* * *

Zoey is a sixteen year old girl walking home alone late at night, and apparently that’s some sort of welcome mat to get mugged.

Her credit card is weeping from the amount of things she’s bought but the food will last her a while so she doesn’t have to go shopping again. Zoey’s in good spirits as she crosses the street.

Normally, she would take the buses, but she doesn’t want to wait around outside when it’s one am and she has school tomorrow — well, today. She's also relaxed enough for the first time in about three months to let her guard down a bit, so it's a real shame that she immediately gets jumped by thugs the moment she does.

Zoey shrieks when a heavy hand covers her mouth and she gets dragged into an alleyway. Her back slams into a wall behind her, and Zoey counts three big, dark, intimidating thugs in front of her.

"Hands up, sweetheart, nice and easy," the biggest guy says, waving his gun at her.

Ice-cold fear shot in her veins and she instinctively reached for her pepper spray. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt empty space. She forgot it!

"He said hands up, kid!" the second guy barks at her, his own gun leveling out somewhere wildly above Zoey’s shoulder.

Zoey flinches. Great, not only would she be killed by thugs, she would be killed by amateur thugs. With the way they were holding the guns, she would most likely be shot by their own carelessness rather than actual intention.

"We don't want any trouble, just your money."

Zoey bit back a retort. Yeah, because teenagers just happen to be real millionaires. Who's even teaching these guys how to pick targets —

The thugs move forward, and Zoey cuts off her inner dialogue. Adrenaline races through her veins and her hands tremble at her sides. Just as she tries to summon her voice to call for help, or to desperately use one of Courtney’s self-defense lessons —

“Hey.”

All four of them jump, and the three thugs turn around to see two figures. Zoey couldn’t make out their facial features in the dark, but one was short and stocky while the other was tall and lanky.

The short one took a menacing step forward. “Leave the girl alone, and I promise we’ll leave you with your teeth intact.”

The thugs laugh. “Oh yeah? Last I checked, there’s three of us, and two of you. And we have guns.”

The tall one walks forward, and the thugs gasp. From her place Zoey can’t see who he is, but it makes the thugs tremble.

“B-boss … it’s the Malevolent One! And … the short mohawked green punk!”

Short mohawked green punk? That sounded like someone she knew, but who was the Malevolent One?

Caught up in her musings, Zoey almost didn’t notice the conversation going on.

"Hey kid, we said — hey, stop that creepy grinning, we're pointing a gun at you — "

Duncan just grins wider, cracks his knuckles, and throws himself into a fight.

Zoey screams as Duncan tackles the thug that called him short and gleefully begins going to town on him. The Malevolent One moves like a shadow, knocking the gun from the thug leader and sending him unconscious.

Slowly, they both turn to look at the last thug standing.

The thug’s face loses all its color and he jumps back in terror, screaming as he drops his gun in his haste to escape.

Zoey is frozen, gasping hard as her knees tremble. The two took on three armed thugs and managed to escape with only bruised knuckles.

Zoey’s legs suddenly give out.

“Hey, Zo, are you okay?” A hand is placed on her shoulder, and Zoey looks up to see Duncan staring down at her.

Zoey can’t help but smile. Duncan liked to put up this bad-boy image to make him seem tough, but secretly he had a soft heart. Zoey was glad to be one of the few to see it.

“Yeah, I — um, yeah. Just in shock. No need to worry about me.”

Duncan offers a hand to help her up, handing her the groceries in the process. Zoey shakily stands up, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Duncan.”

She looks at the other guy, whose figure was hiding in the shadows. “Thanks …” she trails off hesitantly.

He steps into the light and her heart stops. Mike, is her first thought. The tall, lanky body, the skin color, the face. Then she looks closer — the frown on his lips, the dark look on his face, the hair covering his eye.

“Mal,” Zoey says. Her throat suddenly feels extremely dry and she resists the urge to swallow.

“Zoey,” he responded neutrally.

Duncan looks back and forth, obviously picking up the strange air between them. “So, are you headed home?” He asked. Zoey and Mal both broke off the weird trance they found themselves in from staring at each other.

“Yeah,” Zoey nodded. “I was just walking back.”

Duncan takes the grocery bags and turns away. “Come on, we’ll walk with you! Don’t want you to get mugged again, do we?”

Zoey exchanged a bewildered look with Mal, but when he merely raised a brow she quickly flushed and hurried after Duncan.

No way was she letting herself be robbed two times in a night.

* * *

“Hey,” Zoey suddenly asked on the walk back. “Where’s Scott?”

Scott, Duncan, and Mal were the “bad guys” of the neighborhood, the misfits. They liked going out at night and causing trouble — nothing serious or endangering, but just enough graffiti to give the police a headache.

Zoey wasn’t very fond of Scott, but if his friends liked him and they were happy, who was she to judge?

“He stayed in because he had to do a biology project.” Duncan said casually, swinging her grocery bags from side to side. On her other side, Mal was carrying her other bags.

Zoey raised a brow. “And he cares because …”

“He’s failing. He spent three hours begging Dawn to help him out.”

Zoey cringed. He must really be desperate if he went crawling to Dawn. She hated his guts more than Zoey did.

“Right…” Zoey said, because she didn’t really know where to take the conversation.

“Anyway, where’re your parents?” Duncan asks. “Should they be the ones doing grocery shopping? Or at the very least, make you do it at a decent time?”

Zoey shrugged, suddenly not in a very chatty mood. “Oh, uh, they’re on a business trip.”

Duncan narrowed his eyes. “Wait, didn’t you say that last month? What —”

Zoey cut him off. “Duncan, I’m tired. So please drop the topic or else I'll text Courtney that you were on the streets beating up thugs at two am on a final’s night.” Zoey waved the phone for emphasis.

Duncan instantly backed off at the threat of bringing Courtney in. He definitely didn’t want his on-and-off girlfriend to get on his case again (even if they were broken up now). “Okay, okay, fine. I get it, I’ll back off.”

Zoey sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

She turned to look at Mal and found his eyes already on her. They were dark and scorching, and it felt like they were burning her body apart to look into her soul. It felt like he knew every secret scrawled under her skin and was taking it apart to observe at his leisure.

Zoey looked away, her heart beating nervously as her skin tingled under his eyes. “This is my stop.” Zoey stopped walking in front of her house. “Thank you for walking me home and for carrying my bags. That was very nice of you.” Zoey sent Duncan a cheeky grin, knowing how much he disliked being called “nice”.

“Just don’t tell anyone about it,” Duncan huffed, handing her the bags. “Probably about time to start heading back anyway. Later, Zoey. See ya, Mal.” With that, Duncan turned away and walked down the street.

Leaving Zoey and Mal standing alone together on the sidewalk.

“Thanks for walking me home, Mal. I appreciate it.” Zoey held out her hand for the other grocery bag.

Mal stared at her open hand uncomprehendingly, long enough for Zoey to get uncomfortable before saying, “I’m supposed to be walking you to your house.”

“We are at my house.”

“No, we’re in front of your house,” Mal corrects.

“My house is literally right there,” Zoey stabs a finger up the front lawn. “I can carry a couple of bags across the lawn. I’ll be fine.”

But Mal just stared at her unwaveringly, so Zoey huffs and marches towards the door. Mal trails after her, and it’s only until she unlocks the front door and opens it when he gives the bags to her.

Zoey flicks on the light, already feeling unsettled by the darkness before she turns to Mal. He’s already staring at her intently, and Zoey bites her lip uncertainty. “Thank you for walking me back,” she says. “For real, this time.”

“No problem,” Mal shoves his hands in his pockets, eyes flicking behind her to see the undeniably empty house. He turns to walk away, before he hesitates. “If you’re ever feeling lonely …” he starts, looking like he was already regretting it, “call me. I’ll always be there.”

Zoey’s face explodes in red and her mouth drops open. Mal quickly turns around and hurries away, leaving Zoey to gape after him in shock.

She closes the door before leaning against it sliding down to the floor. She buries her face in her hands, cheeks hot from her blush.

Yeah, she would call him. She did have his number after all.

She had all of theirs.

* * *

Vito (Spring)

Now, Vito has always been a massive player.

While Manitoba liked to flirt, Vito actually went out with girls. When he wasn't busy starting fights, he was chasing skirts — and while his behavior had always bothered Zoey, lately it bothered her for an entirely different reason.

That reason used to be because she hated the way Vito eyed girls like they were a piece of meat. The smug smirk he wore whenever he flirted with them made her want to punch him.

These days, it was because he flirted with girls. Period.

Not because he was a jerk about it, not because he was crude, not because he finally realized females were more than just boobs and a butt.

It was because every time she caught him winking at a girl or talking her up, it sent her blood spiking. Zoey would find herself gritting her teeth and clenching her fists and she didn't know why.

(Well, she did know why. She just didn't like it, so she ignored it.)

But the fact remained that something had changed, and it was aggravating the life out of her.

Despite everything, Zoey had resolved to simply ignore it. Whatever had happened to her would fade over time, and Vito was his own person (well … sort of. As much as he could be with five others in his brain). He was allowed to make out with whoever he wanted to.

Zoey also knew she was a major people’s pleaser and the type to obsess over every single detail — so she stuck to the mindset of ignoring Vito as well.

And it served her well, until one day after art club she rounded the corner and nearly crashed into Vito, who was currently sucking face with Anne Maria.

Zoey gasped and skidded to a halt. For a moment she simply stood there, gaping. Her feet were glued to the floor and her heart was pounding rapidly.

Zoey clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palm to clear her head. Zoey could feel a powerful emotion bubbling up and she bit her tongue.

What was Vito doing here? Football practice was over, he should have driven home by now. If he wanted to make out with Anne Maria then he should have done it under the bleachers — unless it was occupied by Geoff and Bridgette again. But why would he bring her here? He knew this was the path she always took to get to the bus —

Zoey suddenly stopped at the thought.

She watched as Vito pulled away and noticed Zoey staring at them in shock. For a moment their eyes met, holding a connection as they looked at each other.

Then Vito had the audacity to smirk at her, mouth pulling up in a cocky smile. His hands rested on Anne Maria’s hips and Zoey’s blood boiled.

She wanted to punch him. She wanted to punch him so bad, and she wanted to rip Anne Maria off him and yell and yell and yell until he made her shut up. But she knew what Vito would look like if she did that and Zoey would rather die than give him the satisfaction.

So instead Zoey clenched her fists, scoffed in annoyance, and brushed right past them with her head held high.

Zoey was jealous. Vito didn’t need to know that.

* * *

Chester (Winter)

Zoey was late, and she was dying.

The girl flies by pedestrians, red hair blowing out behind her as she runs down the sidewalk in a full sprint. Her legs burned and her lungs ached as she took heaving breaths of cold air.

It was one of those days in Canada where the air was so frigid it literally hurt to breathe, but the clouds still stubbornly clung to the snow that would fall later. She was late to her shift at work — too busy studying for classes after school — and had missed her bus, leaving her to wait for the second one impatiently.

Zoey burst into the shop. “I’m here!” She announced grandly.

Gwen looked up mid page-turn from her book at the register, observing the disarray that was Zoey. “You’re late,” she raised a judgemental brow.

“I know, sorry. I was just so caught up with school I lost track of time.” Zoey sighs, taking off her coat. Things would be so much easier for her if she had a ride … unfortunately, she and her ride had had a falling out a while ago and she doubted they would want to talk to her anytime soon.

Shaking off the negative thoughts, Zoey falls into the routine of getting ready. She worked at a small vintage shop that was tucked into the corner of the block for decades. Gwen had introduced it to her, and she had fallen in love with the still, older vibe of the place. Zoey was naturally attracted to older aesthetics, so it made sense that she fit in here.

Gwen and Zoey worked in tandem, attending to customers and working the register until people came in fewer and fewer. After a few hours, Zoey took a breath, checking her phone. Evening had come early, the sky turning a gorgeous shade of midnight blue outside.

Gwen reappeared from the back, bundled in a beanie and scarf. “I’m going to head out early. You okay with closing?”

Zoey smiled. “Of course,” she said, waving off Gwen’s guilty eyes. “Go have fun with Trent. I’ll see you at school.”

Gwen turned crimson, said a quick goodbye, then ran out the shop to the car parked outside at the curb. She slammed the door shut, and Zoey caught a quick glimpse of Trent waving at her before they took off.

Zoey sighed and started to close up. She was glad Gwen and Trent were back together after the rocky hardships that had actually led them to breaking up for a little bit. She wasn’t sure about the details of it — some jealousies and lack of communication — but she knew for sure that Gwen had found it hard to deal with her boyfriend's OCD, and struggled to manage it. She had confessed to Zoey about it, how she struggled to keep a normal relationship with Trent when his mental disorder was constantly interfering.

Gwen had come to her about that, asking for her advice about how to have a partner and manage their mental health, and Zoey had given it, feeling like a total hypocrite in the process.

The ding of the doorbell interrupts her thoughts, and Zoey looks up with an automatic smile to treat the last customer of the day before she freezes as she recognizes the person walking through the door.

Chester.

The alter shakes out his coat, wiping snow with a decisive sort of disdain off his cane. He looks up, takes note of Zoey’s unflattering stunned expression, and says, “Are you goin’ to be sittin’ there starin’ till my bones drop off or are you goin’ to make me some tea?”

Snapping out of it, Zoey blushes, rushing to make the drink under Chester's freezing glare. She sets down the pot, pouring the liquid into the cup as Chester grumbles before sitting down awkwardly.

“So,” Zoey manages to get her voice not to squeak. “How have you been, Chester?”

“Like you care,” Chester says gruffly and takes a sip of his tea. Perfect, just how it's always been. He and Zoey always had the same taste.

“I do care, that’s why I asked,” Zoey responds patiently. Without realizing it, her tone slips into the familiar, soothing, serenade that usually came out whenever Chester made a mean comment. “Just because we haven’t spoken in a while doesn’t mean I don’t wonder how you or everyone else is.”

Chester eyes her suspiciously, and Zoey finds herself randomly struck with how she sees him as Chester, and not Mike. To anyone else, it would look like a teenage boy was acting like an old man, but that wasn’t it. Chester hunched in on himself, and had crooked fingers that always itched for his cane; he subconsciously squinted in one eye and spoke with an inflection that Zoey never knew came from. Mike was the total opposite — he walked straight, but with a small slump in his spine as if to make himself less taller; he used enthusiastic hand motions and spoke loudly when excited. He didn't even like tea like Chester — he preferred juice.

“I’m as fine as these old bones can be in this weather,” Chester says after a moment.

“I see,” Zoey smiles. “You should stay inside and keep warm — what will happen if you slip and fall?” Even if Mike’s body was still young and strong, he had Chester’s psychology — so if he fell, he’d be in immense pain because he believed he had the bones of an old man and wouldn’t be able to get up on his own because of the psychological limits in Chester’s own mind.

“ ’s not like I meant to come out on my own,” Chester scowls. “The boy was already frustrated before that darn hooligan ran the red light while we were crossing. Nearly hit us too, that no good son of a —”

“You’re walking in this weather?” Zoey interrupts before he can go on his tirade. “What about your car?” Mike’s parents had bought him a car in the middle of autumn for passing his drivers test, a beat-up old thing. But still, Mike loved it, and the rest of his alters did too, taking it and driving it around to all their individual appointments.

It had been a fight for Mike to get his license — officials were too worried about him disassociating and switching out while he was driving — but thanks to his psychiatrist’s approval and his adopted parents pushing, he was finally able to get it. She can still remember how proudly Mike's eyes had shone when he first showed her his ID.

“Parents took it away,” Chester grunted. “He was switchin’ out with the rest of us too much.”

“Oh,” Zoey’s mouth felt dry. “I —”

“He's a mess without you, you know. They all are, those stupid young fools. But you should know, with what you said before.”

Zoey feels the words hit, like a sucker-punch to the gut. Her mind flashes back to the time when she asked Mike out. She had worn her favorite red halter top, with wildflower sticker tattoos stamped up her arm as she had rubbed it shyly. She had been so nervous; it had felt like the nerves her belly had turned into a livewire full of electric butterflies.

The words she’d said to him came back to her when he asked why she liked him.

"It's just that … the sort of mess you are ... has always felt like the sort of mess I am.”

How cruel of Chester to bring that up so suddenly. But then again, Chester never really had a problem with being cruel when he wanted to get his words across. Zoey found herself momentarily at a loss of words, stomach flipping in guilt. “That’s not … I didn’t …” What was she supposed to say? Sorry? As great at apologizing as she was, that felt too insensitive to say.

She was self-aware enough to know that she couldn’t keep her friendship with Mike, not after how much she’d hurt him. Maybe if they talked more, if she’d been more commutative …

The familiar sting of tears building up mortifies Zoey and she hides her face behind her hand, squeezing her eyes shut. That only makes it worse as the pressure causes a few wayward drops to slip out. God no, she wouldn’t cry in front of Chester, she wouldn’t …

Zoey waits for the sound of disgust that should be coming from him, a grumble about how sentimental young people were, but —

Something soft touches her cheek and she looks up to see Chester avoiding her eyes, holding out a handkerchief. She sniffles, taking it from his hand and unceremoniously scrubbing her eyes as hard as she can.

“You want to help everyone. You're too sweet to be alone,” Chester says gruffly. “Too dependent on others. You’d save a houseplant if you thought it could be your friend.”

Zoey lets out a choked laugh, not sure if she should be amused or offended at the words. “I just — I thought I'd get over it by now. We weren't even together that long anyways.”

Chester stared at her. “Why do ya still miss him? You’re the one that left.”

Zoey stares down into her cup, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Sometimes you don't get a choice. You think about someone ... a lot.” After she broke up with Mike, she had hoped that that would be the last of it. That he would fade into the background of all the other students, and that the only thing left would be a bittersweet memory.

But no. He still lingers, in her heart and in her mind. He was a bolt out of the blue, and a catastrophe that shakes her to the core. She could go about her day just like any other, and like a habit, she'd think of him.

“That’s what happens when ya give up on somethin’ ya care about. You grieve it just as much as you loved it.”

Zoey glances up at Chester before looking away again.

“What do I do now?” She whispers.

Chester takes a sip of his tea. “Ya know what you did wrong. Ya know what ya wanna change. The only thing that you can do now is try to be better next time around.”

Zoey blinks, the bowstring tightness drawn around her shoulders loosening at his words. She gazes into the mug like it holds all the answers, thoughts swirling around her head like a whirlwind. The fears and insecurities still weighed in her consciousness but now — although tentative — resolve was there as well.

She took a sip of her tea as well, chamomile lingering on her tongue. She could still try.

She wanted to try.

* * *

Svetlana (Winter)

Zoey watches on the sidelines as Svetlana dances on the ice, lost in her own music. The scrapes of ice against her blades are the only sound in the rink. It's completely empty, which she felt fortunate for because now Svetlana can completely focus on her routine while Zoey sits on the sidelines.

Svetlana skates by again, arms moving like the wind, somehow making the most complicated movements look like the easiest thing in the world.

She was intricately beautiful, and Zoey can’t take her eyes off her. Even with all the inner turmoil in her head, she can’t help but stop and stare at her. She knew this place — here, on the ice rink — was where Svetlana belonged. Skating was her passion, and the movements of the dance were her religion. The air rushing by her ears could clear her head more than any words can, and Zoey knows that she is the reason why Svetlana is out on the ice.

The cold bites her fingers numb and brings a rosy color to her cheeks, stinging like a slap. Zoey didn’t bring gloves with her, a self-inflicting punishment for what is to come. If this was, perhaps, a month ago, she would have been out on the ice with her, sliding on her skates and trying to catch up to Svetlana. Laughter would be echoing throughout the rink as she kept on slipping, not the void of silence now between them.

She couldn't do it anymore.

She could feel her mind fracturing the more she was stretched thin.

She was just so tired. She couldn't handle it. Dating five personalities, each with their own individual traumas, was too much. The stress, the insecurities, the fears were piling up and she just wanted a break.

She thinks (or hopes, maybe) that the others can sense it — her pulling away. It was cowardly, but she hoped that they would willingly drift off into the sea of faces in the school so that Zoey wouldn’t be able to say anything at all.

Svetlana dances across the ice, blissfully lost in her own winter wonderland and slows to a stop. She opens her eyes and catches Zoey’s. She isn’t quite sure what look reads in her gaze, but Svetlana doesn’t skate forward and close the seemingly sudden large gap between them.

Zoey was gonna break her heart. Take the fragile organ that all of the alters held so dear and shatter it into a million pieces.

* * *

Manitoba (Fall)

Manitoba pulled her along by her hand, dragging her to wherever he was taking her. She honestly had no clue. Mike had switched when he was in gym class, and the now-present Manitoba Smith had promptly ditched and went to seek Zoey out, even though she was in a different class at the time.

It had been … an experience to find out about Mike’s alters. She had known that he had some sort of disorder, because he always seemed to have a pink slip note of visiting the counselor’s office. It wasn’t until Mike had told her about his Multiple Personality Disorder —or Dissociative Identity Disorder, as Cameron often corrected— and Cameron had explained what it was when she suddenly understood.

Apparently, back at his old school, Mike had been severely bullied for his disorder and was often called a freak. Monster. Jekyll and Hyde. It had enraged Zoey beyond reason. She herself had been picked on for being different back in her old town, and she knew how much words could hurt.

When he came here, Mike’s plan of laying low was shot when he saw Duncan, who recognized him when they were in juvie, and from Scott, who had wrangled the truth from Cameron with slightly unethical means. Because it was a small school, the information traveled around the grapevine. Nobody batted an eye. Wawanaka High, if nothing else, was filled with eccentric people.

Mike had explained that he didn’t tell her about his personalities sooner because he was afraid she would think he was a freak, but Zoey had simply laughed and told him how much she loved oddballs. But secretly, she was nervous. She had no idea on how to handle his alters, or his trauma that sometimes arose at the most random things. It had been weird, and scary, and confusing, to see the boy she liked (like … really liked), acting like someone else entirely. His posture, his voice, his entire attitude did a complete turn around, and she didn’t know how to handle it.

“Why are you dragging me out of class?” Zoey complains. “We have midterms coming up, and—”

“You’re focusing on the wrong things, treasure!” Manitoba laughs. Zoey trips at the nickname. “You only live once! Why not make this one worth living with adventure!”

Easy for him to say. Mike was the only one who had to focus on school grades and studying. All the others were there for fun.

Manitoba leads them up the stairs to the roof and Zoey withdraws when she sees the Emergency Exit plastered on the doorway.

“Wait, what are you doing?!”

“Huh?”

“You’ll set off the fire alarm!”

Manitoba laughs like she’s said something cute. He opens the doorway to the rooftop and Zoey holds her breath, waiting for the alarms to start. When there is nothing, she lets it out almost disappointedly. A dud.

Manitoba doesn’t let go of her hand as they walk onto the roof and Zoey doesn’t pull away either as she looks around. So this is where Manitoba went whenever Mike switched out with him. Since Mike had a full-time pass to the counselor’s, he was technically obligated to go there whenever he felt like he was about to dissociate, but he and the others never did. She knows that for a fact because the other alters have been caught trying to leave school (Vito and Manitoba mostly) and now Zoey finally knows where one of them disappears.

Zoey can’t help but stare at him while his back is towards her.

She liked to keep busy. Needed to, really, because then she can ignore the persistent loneliness that ached whenever she was alone in a house that was too big for only her. So she made friends, joined clubs, and studied hard. She took it as a challenge when Cameron had asked if she would date any of the alters since she was dating Mike. If her boyfriend had more parts of himself then she wanted to know them as well.

And she liked them, too. Zoey didn’t doubt that before long she would like them just as much as she liked Mike. Svetlana had a beautiful soul and Zoey loved spending time with her. Manitoba was wild but captivating and she could feel herself getting used to him as well. Vito was coming around as well, taking her on drives whenever possible. She was slowly finding the gaps in Chester’s prickly nature and she remained a polite distance with the ever-elusive Mal.

There were doubts, perhaps, that she had been too hopeful. Not that she would ever think Mike a freak, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she had bitten off more than she could chew. If she was truly the right person to handle this. Zoey had her own problems and insecurities, and she could admit that she was prone to keeping it in due to her upbringing — unlike Mike, who knew how to communicate thanks to his training with his therapist.

“You get quiet when you’re stressed.”

She blinks, broken out of her thoughts due to Manitoba’s casual remark.

“Sorry,” she said. “I think more in my head than aloud.”

“I know, love.”

Zoey is glad Manitoba doesn’t comment on the small jerk she makes at his nickname and her furious blush. It was still embarrassing to get used to the others’ affection.

“Now, get on the ledge, Sheila.”

Zoey raises a brow.

Manitoba’s mouth curved into a smirk. “’Course, if you’re feeling afraid I’ll have no problem holding onto a beautiful—”

Maybe it was because of the thought of Manitoba thinking that she was weak or too afraid or boring to do it, but before she thought about it she grabbed onto the metal bars separating her from the ledge and leaped over them. Her converse hit the other side and Zoey spun around to face open air. The wind wasn’t too bad, but if she let go of the bar it would only take a push to send her careening to her death.

Zoey glanced over her shoulder, a smile tugging at her lips. “You were saying?”

Manitoba gazed at her, none of his usual cockiness in his eyes. “Look.”

She's never had a fear of heights, so she isn't afraid when she stares down at the world. Trees dappled with red, orange, and gold leaves lined the block of houses they adorned. The cars looked like toys on the winding road, the people so small they looked like ants. She hears Manitoba jump on the ledge to join her but doesn't turn her head.

“Wrong place, Shiela.”

“What?” Zoey asks. She turns to look at Manitoba only to see him watching her already.

“You’re looking in the wrong place.”

Without any further comment, he takes her chin and gently lifts it up so her gaze shifts upwards. Away from the town and to the world beyond that. Midnight-colored lakes, rolling plains, and forests stretching as far as the eye can see. And even farther, mountains peaking towards the blue sky, desperate to touch the clouds.

The air rushed out of her in her next breath.

And suddenly, Zoey understood what Manitoba was trying to make her get. There was a whole world out there. A whole country, and whole continent, even, and Zoey was still lost in her head. Her problems seemed like nothing in the grand scheme of things, and Zoey was just letting her life pass her by because she let them consume her.

She stands on the edge of the rooftop. Wind brushes along her skin, causing goosebumps to rise along her arm, but Zoey doesn’t say anything. She didn’t bring her jacket, and Manitoba wasn’t wearing one either. Even if he was, she doubted she would ask for it. She stands on the ledge, making no move to shield herself from the wind and looks at the Canadian wilderness in front of them.

She tips her head back and closes her eyes, the wind making the loose strands of her hair fly around her. Her feet felt rooted to her place, but she imagines herself as free as a bird. She could taste the tantalizing weight of wilderness on her tongue and wants.

So Zoey stands, and stares, and breathes.

* * *

Mike (Fall)

Zoey walked into her last class of the day, Chemistry. It had taken her a while to find the classroom, so most of the tables were filled up. She spotted Lightning in the back showing off with Cody staring up with adoring eyes. Noah was on the other side of the class, rolling his eyes at the antics before burying his nose in his book.

Apprehension pooled her gut. She didn’t know who to sit by and barely knew anyone. The class was mainly filled with seniors she only knew by name with only a handful of juniors she had never spoken to.

Zoey feels sick. She wants to walk right out. Why was her social anxiety starting to act up now?

She spots a boy sitting with a table to himself, a giant bookbag next to him. He’s hunched over, like he wasn’t used to the open air around him, and is wearing thick glasses and a giant red hoodie that hide nothing with how scrawny he is. Zoey is surprised to see him have such a big bag, seeing as how the boy is basically twigs it looks like even the weight of a butterfly could knock him over.

He seemed like the safest bet to sit next to.

Zoey walks towards the small boy — anxiety trembling in her bones — and gives him a nice smile, trying to appear more confident than she truely was.

“Hi!” She greets cheerfully. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

The boy jolts so hard that he nearly topples to the floor. “Oh! Yeah, sure! No problem!” He eagerly swipes all his belongings off the side of the table to make room for her.

“Thanks,” she says, taking a seat. Continue the conversation, ask questions rings in her head from all the How-To-Make-Friends podcasts she had obsessively listened to over the summer. “I don't think I've ever seen you around before. Are you a freshman?”

The boy lights up, and soon he is talking a mile a minute. His name is Cameron, and he's sixteen like her — which surprised her, given his small stature — but this is his first year of attending Wawanakwa High after being homeschooled all his life. Apparently his mother was obsessively overprotective of her only son and as a result, Cameron was what was known as a “bubble boy”. He was sweet though, and eager, even though he lacked any real world experience he was quite knowledgeable in academics.

By the time Cameron kindly offers her some hand sanitizer, Zoey is estatic to find that she has made her first real friend of the year.

Their conversation comes to a natural lull and Zoey busies herself organizing her backpack and pulling out the notebook she will need for the class.

Officially, chemistry should have already started, but none of the seniors pause in their continuous chatter and after waiting for another awkward couple of minutes, Cameron turns and asks a senior, Courtney, where the teacher was. The honors student makes a face, nose wrinkling in a way that makes her freckles scrunch cutely and responds, “Our teacher is Blainely. She never shows up to class on time, no matter how much Principal McLean complains.”

A desk over, a girl named Heather with beautiful, glossy long hair, scoffs in a way that shows her just how much she’s a fan of their teacher and goes back to filing her nails. Zoey wants to compliment her on her hair, but something primal very deep inside of her tells her that any word spoken to her would be met with a nasty comment on her hair.

She goes back to doodling on her own notebook before all of the sudden the door slams open and a harried teen rushes in. He’s holding a pink slip that meant he was coming from the office, and after seeing that the teacher is nowhere in sight, looks for a table.

He lights up as he sees the only open seat on Cameron’s other side and hurries towards it, practically dumping all his belongings on the table as he collapses in his seat.

“Hey,” he says, running his fingers through his spiky hair. “Did class start yet?”

Cameron shook his head no.

“Really? But didn’t class start like —” he glances at the clock, “— ten minutes ago?”

“Well, our teacher for this class is Ms. Blainely, and I heard she doesn't care about tardiness because she's always late.” Zoey reports back what Courtney said to her.

“Can’t see why,” the boy responds flippantly. “We’re as pleasant as all the teachers in the school.”

Zoey feels her cheeks pull up in a grin and she giggles. “Nice to meet you. I’m —”

Blainely slams through the door of her classroom like a typhoon of bravado and too-much confidence for a teacher who was late to her own class by ten minutes. “Alright, you little brats, it’s time for Chemistry!” She sing-songs.

There’s a thunk from behind of Bridgette slamming her head into her table and her deskmate Lindsay sympathetically pats her on the back. A few tables over, Heather fake gags.

Blainely, in her true, characteristic nonchalant fashion, tells them to have at it in mixing the chemicals after barely skimming the safety protocols and handing out labs.

Her, Cameron, and their new teammate work in tandem together, like they’re a well-oiled machine. He cracks jokes with Cameron and laughs with Zoey, and she feels her cheeks getting sore with how much she's grinning.

She hasn't had this much fun in a long time. Their new teammate is charismatic. And cute. And nice. Zoey didn’t really have a type, but if she did …

Well. It would probably be him.

From over Cameron’s head where he’s chattering, Zoey chances a peek at the boy to see him already watching her. Her heart leaps in surprise and she can’t help but stare at him even after he quickly glances away. Does she have pen ink on her face? It wouldn’t be the first time. Zoey opens her mouth to ask, but before she could —

The bell rings.

The students stir and begin packing their bags with vigor, chatter filling the air as the last class of the day is finished. Cameron bids them goodbye and leaves quickly, and Zoey waves as he practically sprints towards the door, saying something about his mom picking him up.

She spots the boy beginning to pack his bag with the new chemistry papers and realizes amongst all the fun they had together, she has yet to learn his name.

“Hey,” Zoey smiles over the space at the boy. “My name is Zoey.”

The boy blinks, then gives her this big, beautiful, beaming grin that seemed to light up his entire face. Zoey feels her heart skip a beat, then trip and stumble and crash against her ribcage at the sight of it. Oh boy.

“I'm … Mike.”

* * *

[skyfallslayer]

They're Gonna Taste My Venom

-The DD Trio x Symbiote!Teen!Reader-

Main Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three

🕷️Summary: Due to their expansion in their business, the trio decides to hire a helping hand to help string things along. The girl is… a little quirky, Karen admits, Or Foggy notices she’s a bottomless pit for snacks, Or that Matt can hear her talking to herself quietly sometimes. But it’s nothing they can’t handle– Oh, no! Now she just bit someone’s hand off, she’s speaking in a deeper tone, and she’s apologizing profusely as she hangs from the ceiling. She might be way out of their league after all.

🕷️Pairings: DD Trio x Platonic!Teen Reader; Karedevil; Foggy x Marci; Teen!Reader x Platonic!Venom

🕷️Rating: Teen-Mature

🕷️Word Count: 6,305

🕷️ Date: 2/21/24

🕷️Warnings: Implied Bad Homelife; Mention of Blood; Canon-Typical Violence; Interrogation; Kidnapping; (Underage) Drugging; Heavy Language; Heavy Dialogue; Mention of Cannibalism; Mention of Body Parts Being Torn Off; Mention of Eating Someone/Biting Off A Limb (Via: Symbiote). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

🕷️ A/N: Hello, dear readers! Welcome to my three part series of an idea that I have no idea where it came from. Lol. Seriously, this strange AU just popped into my head and I was like- "Man, maybe I should make that my next fic?". And BAM! Here it is! Hopefully it's good as I imagine it would be. Enjoy!

These past twelve months have been… something else. The snap that lasted for five years messed up everything that the troublesome trio worked for, which was to rebrand their business: Nelson, Murdock & Page. But hey, I guess in a… morbid(?) sickly? depressed? way, it did work out in the end. Business was pretty much booming, especially now that everyone who blipped was trying to get their homes or anything else they own back under their names and care. Now, not to toot their own horns, but they say they’re pretty good at multitasking. 

Until…

They weren’t.

As they get busier with each passing day, the trio realizes that they’re stretching themselves so far thin that it’s starting to affect them. So after some intense conversations, they decided to hire a helping hand.

Y/N L/N. 

Their new assistant that was just shy of seventeen and on her way to graduating high school. She was nervous, of course, when they first met her, but the nerves soon settled and she turned out to be a very charming person that they all agree they loved to have in the office. She was extremely helpful and willing to learn, always on her toes when they needed something, always organized and had everything ready when they had a case or a client coming in. None of them could ask for a better person in the position. Even though the girl was… 

Well…

Kind of quirky.

Like she always prefers it cold, no matter what the temperature is. Karen notices she was barely wearing anything when they first met. It was in the middle of winter, and the girl was just wearing an oversize sweatshirt and a thin beanie. At first a bit of a motherly instinct took over and wondered if the poor girl just didn’t have anything to wear at home, or maybe couldn’t afford anything. Y/N eventually apologized and laughed saying that she just prefers this weather more than the heat. But despite that, Karen did gift her a warmer coat that the teen decided to wear (even if it felt forced).

.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that Miss Page.” Y/N said once she was handed over the nice coat. 

“Please, I insist. I know you said you like the cold, but I would rather not see you sick.” Karen said, as the girl smiles and nods, promising to wear it until Spring.

.

Then it was the food. Now, Franklin Percy “Foggy” Nelson loved to eat just like any other person out there. But if there was an eating competition to suddenly spawn inside his office he would surely lose to his assistant. The kid was… a freaking bottomless pit. Just as Karen had suspected Y/N might be on the poor side, Foggy thought the same when he brought take out for lunch and the kid nearly ate everything on the table. She did it in a mannerful way but still (He’s surprised she didn’t inhale the table). So out of worriedness he started bringing her lunch, and the one day he forgot, she brought her own “five course” meal of sandwiches and sides.

.

“Maybe… she’s just a growing kid.” Karen once said as he shook his head.

“Don’t girls go through puberty early? There’s no way Y/N’s still growing.” He boasted as the blonde tried another excuse that he shot down quickly. “Nope! Matt! Can’t you tell?”

“Foggy, Matt is not about to smell nor hear if the poor girl is going through puberty!”

“Karen, come on–”

“NO!!”

.

The conversation ended up being wrapped up and placed in the back of the shelf for now, but occasionally it’ll come up when the girl polishes off something huge by herself (And everytime Karen proceeds to hit Foggy over the head with her shoe as Matt tries not to laugh).

Then there was the human lie detector, Matt Murdock and his tales of Miss L/N. When he first met her of course he was a little on edge, I mean he was still learning to not leave his guard up all the time after promising Foggy and Karen he was going to do better and be trustworthy. The girl was nervous during the interview, but managed to win over their hearts about halfway through yet…

Matt couldn’t shake what his senses were picking up.

On her first day of work she seemed cool as a cucumber, nothing to worry about. However her heartbeat was… strange. It was pulsing like any other healthy human being, but there were times where it would randomly accelerate. Like she would just be stapling papers together and it would pick up speed like a racehorse. A few times he feared she was having a heart attack before it went away. 

The other thing he notices, and to follow Karen’s observation, the girl does tend to run rather hot. And when she does she would either shed off an extra layer or turn the tiny fan on her desk in the middle of a snow storm. 

.

Hmm, maybe she’s just a natural furnace. He told himself once, recalling that his father was someone who always seemed to stay warm (but even he wasn’t crazy enough to go outside half dressed in -10 degree weather).

.

Then lastly, he realizes the girl likes to talk to herself quietly. At first he thought maybe she had an earbud in and was talking to someone, or maybe she was mouthing the lyrics of a song but… no. Sometimes it’s even hard for him to pick up what she’s saying ‘cause she’s so quiet, but the couple times he does hear her it sounds like she’s scolding herself.

.

Matt tilts his head, slightly zoning out on the conversation him and his partners were having as Y/N was in their kitchenette. From the smell of it she was making herself coffee and muttering and even jerking at something or someone that wasn’t even there.

“Shut up, I’m not eating that– No I’m not– You’re not either.” He hears her eye roll and almost sighs. “You’re not going to die, stop being a baby– Don’t call me the baby, you numbnut– Hey, you fucking bastard, I’ll–”

And then he kind of tuned out when he noticed Foggy was asking him a question.

.

A million different scenarios went through his head of what it could be. One that he’s just sticking with right now is she’s just a very imaginary kid. The other lingering thoughts weren’t so innocent. Someone’s home life could affect certain things. Maybe it’s–

“So what shall we do to celebrate?” Foggy said out of the blue in the present day. The sun was out shining, the weather was cool and just right, everything was blooming peacefully just as Spring should be. The blond looked between the two perplexed adults before gasping. “Don’t tell me you all forgot?”

Karen glanced in Matt’s direction, lost as well. “Uh, remind us again?” She asked, sheepishly.

“Oh, come on guys! It’s our anniversary!” He throws his hands in the air. “This marks the full year of the grand reopening of Nelson, Murdock & Page!”

Matt’s eyebrows shot up above his glasses in surprise. “Is it April 24th already?”

“Yeah! A full year, baby! We fucking did it! We brought this extinct beast of a place back to life.” Foggy exclaims, making Karen laugh. “We need to celebrate.”

“And how so, Mr. Nelson?” The woman asked, curious to what he had to say.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. Maybe a nice dinner and a club.”

“Aren’t we too old for clubbing?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Who says that?”

“Says the guy who pulled his hamstring running up the stairs.” Matt quips with a grin, as Karen hides another laugh in her hand. 

“Hey!” 

“Half-Joking.” Then he perks up. “Y/N is here.”

“Already?” Foggy looks at his watch. “She’s really early.”

“Do you think something’s wrong?” Karen asked, mother henning again. “Matt?”

“I’m not picking up on anything.” The blind lawyer replies, truthfully. “She’s coming. Relax.”

The teenager opens the door, her usual blouse and skirt with her backpack on her shoulder. She looked like she was in thought as she greets them with a smile. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Matt and Karen greet in unison as Foggy cracks the ice.

“Hey, Y/N/N. You’re early.” 

“Uh, yeah, sorry. My building’s power went off and I couldn’t cook anything so I just went to a diner. Guess I overestimated how much time I needed to eat.” She replies, her heart steady. “Is it okay if I start early?”

“That’s fine, there’s probably not much to do though.” Matt says, as she sets her stuff down on her desk.

“Whatever you got I’ll do.”

Foggy’s concern washes away and goes back to his bubbly self. “Are you free tonight, Y/N?”

“Um… yeah. Why?”

“Well, today marks our anniversary of getting this place up and running again and we want to celebrate with maybe dinner at least. Our treat.”

“Dinner?” The teenager looks concerned. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to tag along? I’m just your assistant.”

“Nah, don’t use that talk.” He waves her off. “You’ve helped us a lot these past few months. You’re one of us. Right, guys?”

“Of course she is.” Karen said, her red lips curling upwards. “We would be all over the place if you hadn’t helped organize when we got so overwhelmed.”

“And customers are always complimenting you on how wonderful you are with them.” Matt adds, making the teenager blush.

“Yeah, kiddo. You’re great.” Foggy says, throwing his arm around her with pride. “Keep this up for a few more months and… maybe we’ll add your name to the plaque.” 

She laughed. “Your business will officially be a mouthful to remember.”

“Hey, it was mouthful before Karen came in, we might as well keep rolling with it.” He shrugs. “So what do you say? Dinner at least?”

“I can do dinner.”

“Fantastic! Where shall we go?”

And that was pretty much the only thing they talked about for the rest of the day.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Are you sure this is the right address?” Foggy asked for the third time tonight as he hitched along for the ride. He was the person you called a… backseat driver (but he has every right to do so at this point).

“Yes, Foggy. I’m just following the directions on my phone.” Karen replies, slightly irritated, but also a little bit worried (like she’ll admit that to him just yet).

“‘Cause this is a really bad neighbourhood.”

“I know, Foggy.”

“Is it really that bad?” Matt asked, after listening to his surroundings. He didn’t really hear that much going on outside the vehicle.

“It’s… extremely sketchy.” Foggy says, with a sigh. “It’s like one of those places they tell you not to go after dark.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah, and we close pretty late. Do we really make Y/N walk through this?”

Matt’s eyebrows raise up, amusement on his face. “Sounds like someone’s going to be her chauffeur soon.”

“Don’t tempt me, Matthew. I’d consider. Or we all pitch in and buy her a car.”

“Sure she knows how to drive?”

“Or better question–” Karen cuts in while making another turn. “Maybe you should talk to her parents first about this concern before we start gifting our assistant with stuff? Maybe she’s not allowed to have a car? Or even to drive?”

“What seventeen year old isn’t allowed to drive?” Foggy asked, confused.

“I mean, I wasn’t allowed to drive at all until I was an adult.”

“What? Why?”

“Foggy I was what you called uh… ‘wild child’, I’m not exactly a saint you know.”

Foggy sighs and flicks his attention to the backseat. “Matt, would you have driven a car if you could?”

“Who says I haven’t?” The blind man replies with a grin that made Foggy not want to question it.

The blond man throws his hands up. “I give up. Naysayers, all of you.”

“What are we ‘naysaying’?” Karen asked, with a chuckle.

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Oh my god.” She shakes her head and parks the car along the curb. Just as she was about to snatch her phone off the dash, a report came up. She quickly reads over the headline and frowns. “Hey, did you hear about those people who disappeared a few days ago? Rumors saying they were special forces?”

“The ones that were going door to door down on 36th?” Matt asked, hearing about it on the news and even word about it at night. Even some criminals he ran into that night thought it was strange and found them suspicious. 

“Yeah, those. Apparently they just turned up. Parts of them.”

Foggy’s face scrunched up. “Ew.”

“Someone hacked them up?” Matt asked, worried about a possible new killer on the loose.

“The strange thing is, no. From what it says here it looks like their limbs were chewed off.”

Foggy made a gagging noise now. “Ugh. Great. Now we have a cannibal in the Kitchen. That’s just great–” He opens the car door. “More reasons to get Y/N a car.” His friends shake their heads and get out also.

“You know, you’ll make a great father one day.” Matt says, getting the middle finger.

The three of them buzzed themselves into the building, going up to the second floor to the third apartment in. It wasn’t as luxurious as the apartment Foggy shared with his fiancée, but it was definitely on the same level as Matt’s: -Not-in-the-safest-of-places-and-was-the-“cheapest”-on-the-block- They definitely felt wary of wearing their nice and expensive clothes out here.

Karen was the one who knocked and got a response.

“She’s alone.” Matt said afterwards, getting the woman to check her watch.

“I guess her parents work the nightshift?” Foggy said, slightly worried. They didn’t get the chance to talk about it when the door swings open. The teenager opens up a nice, simple purple dress paired with a blue jean jacket and flats.

She smiles. “Hope you found the place okay.” She replies, greeting them and locking their door behind her. “Seriously, you guys didn’t have to drive to get me.”

“Oh, we don’t mind.” Karen says, honestly.

“Are we still planning on dinner?”

“Of course. You hungry?” Matt asked, making her laugh out of embarrassment.

“Heck yeah, I am.” She said, making them giggle.

“Well then, after you, Ladies.” He gestures for them to go first.

“Oh, such a gentleman.” Karen replies, starting the trek off, smiling and pulling their assistant along for the ride.  

They started chit chatting about the place they were going to go, Foggy boasting about how good the food was the last time he went (Now frank that was pre-blipped, so fingers crossed it’s still as good as back then). As they started descending down the stairs, Matt’s cane unfortunately got caught into a hole that was forming in the wood and was falling forward. To his surprise, Y/N was the one to react extremely quickly and place her hand on his chest to stop his fall.

“Shit, you okay?” She said, as he regained his balance from her strength.

“Uh, I’m…” And then he trails off when he catches a whiff, the smell of dried blood just beneath her fingertips. The chilling part of this was that it was NOT her blood. He swallows, and forces a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for the catch.”

She frowns apologetically. “I’m sorry, I probably should have warned you about the stairs. They’ve been falling apart for a while. If you stay to the left you’ll miss most of them.”

“Noted.” And then they continued again with Matt being careful…

.

.

.

And it was not just about the stairs.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Sure I can eat anything?” Y/N asked, as she scanned the menu over again.

“Of course, our treat.” Karen reassures for the hundredth time.

“I know it’s your treat, and I appreciate it. But–” She flips the menu towards them. “Have you seen the dollar signs for this place?”

“Well, I can’t exactly ‘see’ anything.” Matt replies, feeling his assistant give him ‘the look’. He hoped he sounded sarcastic and not rude (he was trying to push away what he smelled earlier and enjoy the night (And not be a paranoid freak again).

“Mr. Murdock–”

“Matt, kiddo.” Foggy says, lightly tapping her shoulder. “How many times did we tell you you can drop the formalities? It’s been months.”

Y/N blushes. “Sorry, habit.” She replies, only to mumble something under her breath two seconds later that everyone kind of ignored. “I’ll shut up and figure out what to eat.”

“That’s the spirit.”

The group eventually ordered their food and soon slipped into a nice conversation. Between some fun exchanges between the law trio or funny memories from their childhoods, it eventually led to laughter.

“I never realized how big your family was, Foggy.” Y/N said, intrigued by the chaos of the Nelson family.

“And I swear it just keeps growing. It’s a little baseball team at this point.” He replies, smiling.

“Does anyone else have a sibling?”

“I had a brother, but he’s passed.” Karen explains, with a sad smile.

“Only child.” Matt replies, with a head tilt.

“What about you, Y/N? Any siblings?”

She shakes her head. “Just myself. I kind of wish I had a sibling though. It does get lonely at home sometimes.”

“Well… it’s not too late to ask your parents for one.” Foggy jokes, half heartedly; It causes Matt to nearly spit out his drink, Karen scolding him and Y/N chuckling behind her hand. “Don’t kill me! It’s just a joke.”

“Franklin Nelson.” Karen warns like she was his nagging mother, and kicks his shin.

“Ouch, Karen, geez.”

Y/N smiles, amused. “I don’t mind, really.”

“But still, most people I meet here want more than one kid. I’m actually surprised you’re an only child, Y/N.” Matt said, being honest, which suddenly got her heart rate to pick up, but not in the racehorse kind of way he had been hearing. The teenager had stayed quiet for a moment before she shrugged, trying to shake it, or them, off.

“My mom’s not really in the picture anymore, not for a long time actually. I just really have my dad, but he’s always working. So, to be honest, I’m on my own. I don’t think he even realizes I have a job.” She replies, taking the last sip of her drink while avoiding eye contact. She could feel the concerned stares on her making her feel uncomfortable.

“Y/N, that’s not right.” Karen said, worriedly.

“It’s… fine. I’m used to it, you know?”

“Just because you’re fine with it, doesn’t mean it is.” Foggy replies, brows pushed together, distress wrinkles forming. “You know, if something’s up or wrong, you can tell us anything. We’re here for you, you know?”

“Not everything though…” She said, frowning (Her heartbeat picking up again, which was enough for Matt to start questioning what she actually means).

Just before anything else could be said, the waiter came over to drop off their refills and took the empty appetizer plate away. “Your food will be out shortly.” He said, and they thanked him.

“Man, I’m starving. The wait better be worth it.” Foggy said, after a second.

“I know, right? I know it’s been awhile, but I don’t remember it taking this long.” Karen admits, stirring the lemon around in her ice tea.

Y/N starts to take a sip of her new drink and pauses, like halted to an immediate stop. Matt picks the way her whole demeanor changes from nervousness to anger, and mutters, “It’s coke. It’s fine…”

What are you hiding, Y/N? Matt wonders as he takes a sip of his own beverage, worried out of his mind for what could be happening to her. What was happening at home that you didn’t even want to talk about it? 

But as soon as that red wine tickled down his throat he immediately knew something was wrong.

He couldn’t even taste it or smell it, but he knew there was something mixed inside that wasn’t supposed to be in there.

He immediately feels all his remaining senses start to go wack and before he could even say a word, Y/N beat him to it.

“Hey! We have to throw up!” She says, shooting up to her wobbly feet. “The drinks were–”

And then she proceeded to crash back into her chair, her face falling onto her dining mat. Karen calls out her name before passing out as well.

“Uh… M-Matt…?” Foggy calls out, struggling to stay awake. “W-what just…”

Matt hears him render unconscious as well and tries to fight it off the best he could, but he knew it was useless when his whole body started to grow numb, and he cussed under his breath from it.

.

.

.

And the last thing he sensed was their waiter standing over their table smiling like the cheshire cat.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When the four of them came to, they all had splitting headaches that made it almost hard to even realize where they were. Tied to individual chairs and under some “interrogation” lighting in some strange, seemingly unknown, building.

“Ugh… where are we?” Karen asked, looking around with a slight squint.

“Warehouse district.” Matt replies, after a split second of analyzing. “I recognized the smell.”

Foggy clears his throat before whispering, “Uh, Matty, might not want to out yourself to our assistant here yet.”

The blind vigilante completely forgot that Y/N didn’t know his secret and held his tongue. Luckily, it seems like she was preoccupied with her worries, making some weird faces only two people present could see. Well… maybe a third now because some random ass man wearing what looks like tactical equipment (minus its helmet) comes in through a door.

Baldy (yeah we’re calling him that) looks disgusted and rather annoyed to even be here, as he stands before each of them before spewing, “Where is it?” 

Yeah, no ‘Hi’, ‘Hello’, or ‘Good Afternoon’, just straight to the fucking point that nobody even knows what it’s about. 

The adults looked at each other, going into overprotective mode.

“Who are you?” Matt asked, ready to start listening for clues (and silently try to get out of his restraints).

“Not any of your business.”

“Why are we here? Why did you need us?”

Baldy said nothing, instead directing his attention to the bound teenager. “Where is it?”

Y/N blinks, clearly confused. “Where is what?”

“The thing.”

Another blink. “What thing?”

His jaw clenches, irritated. “The thing you stole from us.”

She scoffs. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“For fuck’s sake–”

“What is going on?” Foggy cuts in, bitterly. 

“Who are you people?” Karen asked, same expression as his.

“The people who want our stuff back.” Baldy replies, shrilly too. “Our boss has been desperately looking for it ever since it went missing. We know she has it.”

“How do you know she took it?” Karen asked, maternal mode kicking in once more and ready to throw hands if necessary (I mean, did this guy even have any evidence?).

“Her school was required to go on a field trip to our company, and soon after, our… subject disappeared and we know one of those kids took it. Took us a while, but we finally tracked down who it was.” He jabs his finger at the girl. “You.”

“Y/N–” The blonde woman looks her way.

“Subject?” Matt asked, turning the interrogation around. He feels everyones’ gazes on him now as he tries analyzing the situation. “First you say ‘thing’ and now you say ‘subject’. Are you saying Y/N stole a person?”

“Matt–” Foggy warns under his breath, urging him to tread carefully.

“I wouldn’t call it a person.” Baldy said, feeling the blind man’s intense stare.

“Then what is it again?”

“Matt–” Karen tries now.

Baldy holds his tongue. “Listen, Blindly–”

“So what’s this ‘subject’ Y/N supposedly stole?” Matt pressured, feeling the man’s blood spike.

“You need–” He pulls his gun out. “To shut the fuck up.”

“Matt!/Hey!” Karen and Foggy yelled in unison, their racing hearts pouncing in their friend’s ears. But the Murdock stays as calm as he could be, tuning them out to focus on the gun on hand.

“I would hold that spicy tongue of yours, and let ME do the talking.” Baldy continues, getting silence as an answer. “Good. Now–” He redirects the barrel at the teenager. “Talk.”

Y/N’s eyes widened just as the adults started yelling again.

“Hey!” Matt snarled, thinking the gun was going to be trained on him the whole time. He tries giving the most intimidating look he could muster with his blind orbs showing. “Don’t fucking point that at her.”

“Yeah! You really gonna kill a kid?!” Foggy snaps, getting the man’s attention.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?!” Karen adds, making Baldy’s eye twitch at their comments.

“Listen, motherfuckers.” He snaps, a craze look on his face. “I will do whatever needs to be done. If that includes bathing my hands in red, then so be it.”

She shakes her head, furious. “You’re a sick, twisted, human being, you–”

“I’m sorry…” Y/N blurted out of the blue, suddenly looking really pale and distant. Her boss unknowingly hears her heart start picking up like a rabbit, and her blood pressure starts spiking (not to mention she was starting to run like a furnace).

Badly looks her way again and scoffs. “What? You scared?”

“Not of you, but for you.” She swallows. “You really might not want to point the gun at me, it’s upsetting him.”

He tilts his head, confused. “Upsetting who?”

“You need to leave.” She pleads, her (Y/E/C) eyes starting to change to an odd color.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Seriously, leave, please–”

He starts to sweat and presses the gun into her head more. “What are you fucking talking about?!”

“Leave! He’s–” Then her body stood stiff, and her fingers started to twitch, and then… her voice got super deep. “I’m pissed off.”

The trio widened their eyes at how scary and inhuman she sounded, which was enough for Baldy to start panicking, thinking of the worst. 

“Enough with the theatrics!!” He snapped, trying to regain control. “I’m–” 

And then nobody expected this next.

If you told anyone you were going to watch the girl get engulfed in black goo, and a monstrous face to form in her place then they wouldn’t just bat an eye and walk away because it sounded like insanity.

It became even more insane when the face suddenly bit the man’s forearm off clean and swallowed it whole, along with the hand pistol.

An ear piercing scream erupted from the back of his throat as blood pooled from his remaining limb. He stumbled backwards as the substance from her body disappeared, Y/N reacting with a look of horror on her own features.

“Oh, my god!!” She screamed. “Oh, my god! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!!”

“What the fuck!!!” He yelled back, baffled just like everyone else in the room.

“I’m so, so, so sorry!! I told him not to do it! He never listens!! I–” 

Then a black tentacle comes out of her skin and whips the man into a wall, causing another scream from her and even the trio. The adults could only just watch/listen to it unfold, no clue to what’s happening.

“Oh, my god– Fuck!!” Y/N says, shutting her eyes shut tightly like she was in pain. “I told you not to do that!! Why did you– Ah!!”

Her bosses watch as her body stiffens again, eyes glassing back over to purple before slowly fading to white. Then, the tentacles came back out to smash the chair she was in, bringing her to her knees. The goo was started to cover her form again, prompting her to ask the question,

“Venom… What are you– Saving your life. And theirs too.” 

Then the door bursts open again, this time with a crowd of other people dressed just like Baldy, except that had a little more artillery. Suddenly, the trio watches as Y/N jumped and dangled from the ceiling, the red lasers immediately pinpointing on her.

“FIRE!!” Someone shouted, and the bullets started flying.

Then their little assistant disappears again, replaced by the face with big white eyes and a wide mouth full of spike, and a tongue that was licking its lips with delight from the bullets ricocheting off of him. Karen screamed at the sound, and they all buried their faces into their shoulders for protection just as the beast let out its battle cry.

It started crawling faster towards the crowd, hunger in its face before it suddenly stopped halfway. The beast let out a huge sigh, muttering, “Fine.”

It then started grabbing whatever it could get a hold of and fling it towards them like a game of extreme darts. One by one they started to fall, one by one they were getting broken ribs and blacking out, one by one they were–

Then a flash grenade was suddenly underneath it and exploded.

The beast roared in pain from the sound, the goo vibrating and then dissolving at the snap of fingers, causing the teenager to resurface and fall to the floor. 

Matt definitely heard her ankle snap from the fall despite his own ears ringing, and called out her name. The girl cries out, and hugs her leg as she squeezes her eyes shut to block the tears from flowing. Just as the noise started to settle, it was about to become a whole lot worse. Just as the last remaining attacker was about to shoot the poor girl dead, with Karen and Foggy shouting their pleas, the vigilante managed to to unloosen the last knot from his wrist, springing to his feet and chucking the chair straight at him.

Matt lets out a breath he was holding before his instincts kicked in again. He quickly unties Foggy from his chair, saying, “Get Karen.”

“Right.”

He sprints over to the girl, getting down to her level. “Y/N?”

She lets out a groan, cracking open her eyes, slight shock upon seeing him. “M-Matt?”

“Hold still, I’ll pick you up.”

“H-How did you get out? Or throw a chair so accurately?”

Well shit. 

He really wasn’t thinking about his secret ID at that moment. Just the thought of making sure his assistant wasn’t going to die on his watch.

He bites his lip. “Y/N, I’m–” His gaze snaps towards the door where he could hear footsteps approaching. A lot of them. “Shit. There’s more. We have to–”

“I-I have to get you out.” She croaks, rolling herself to be on all four. “It’s my fault you’re involved in this.”

“Y/N, you broke your ankle, you can’t do anything else.”

“But…” She groans again and then slowly lobs her head in his direction, a smug tugged across her lips. “But I insist, Mr. Murdock.”

And before he could say a word, the beast reappeared and lifted him straight off his feet, along with Karen and Foggy who yelped in surprise. Suddenly they found themselves running at an incredible speed, prayers leaving their mouths just as they broke through a window and free falled down.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Not even sure where they ended up but it was completely unoccupied and covered by the shadows of the night. The beast had set the weathered adults down against the wall before doing the same; the body disappearing back to the teeanger who fell right on her bum. She lets out a shaky breath, closing her eyes like she did earlier, trying to hold the pain in.

“Oh, my god, Y/N, your ankle.” Karen manages to say once the shock ran out (And that was for a while).

Y/N smacks her lips, grinding her teeth, replying, “I-It’s fine. It’ll be fine in a minute. I advise not looking.”

“What do you mean?” Foggy asked, eating his words as he witnessed her ankle snapping right back into place causing him to gag and avert his gaze. “Oh, hell…”

“T-Told ya.” She mutters and then sighs. 

Silence fell over them, the trio all kind of looking at one another before deciding it was time to address the elephant in the room. Or whatever that thing was.

Foggy clears his throat, shifting his weight around. “So…”

“I’m sorry.” Y/N said, opening her eyes and looking at them with guilt. “I… I never wanted you guys to see that.”

“Well, I can see why.” He mumbles, getting a smack in the shoulder by Karen. “Ow!”

“So what is it?” Matt asked, straight to the point and curious, actually (and concerned too now that he’s realized this girl’s got no control over whatever it is). 

Another sigh as Y/N pushes herself to stand. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly that. I don’t know.” She crosses her arm uncomfortably. “I went on a mandatory field trip for school to this lab, and… some of my classmates begged me to go ‘behind the scenes’ with them. I honestly didn’t know what to expect, except that the only thing back there was this container with a tiny blob in it.” 

She frowns. “One thing led to another and it broke, but I had no idea that… this blob got absorbed into me.” She throws one of her hands up. “I honestly thought I was going crazy for several days when I could hear shit in my head, and when my appetite went through the roof. And then…”

“Then… what?” Matt said, sensing her discomfort.

“I got mugged. Well… attempted mugging until… Venom came out.”

“Venom?” Karen asked, eyebrow raised.

“That’s… what he calls himself. The thing you saw.” Y/N starts nervously playing with her hands. “Anyway, the mugger didn’t do much since– you know– uh…”

“Let me guess, he bit the guy’s arm off?” Foggy says, as she shrugs.

“More like… above the neck…” Then she gets the shocked stares again. “Okay, in my defense, I have no control over that. I didn’t even know that Venom attached himself to me. I…” She groans. “I just ran away after that! I didn’t know what to–” She then pauses like she is listening.. “You what? – You finished him off?”

Now it was her turn to have her pupils blown wide. “When? I don’t remember you doing that? – You did it when I was asleep?! – Oh, ho! That is not consensual whatsoever! We talked about this!” She scowls. “No, you quit complaining, you parasite!”

Y/N groans again, this time into her hands. “Ugh! He’s so annoying sometimes!”

“This is the strangest thing I think I’ve ever witnessed.” Foggy said, running a hand through his locks. “And aliens attacked New York.”

“Technically, Venom’s an alien.”

“Oh, my god.” He holds the sides of his head. “It’s ‘Invasion of The Body Snatchers’.”

“Foggy.” Karen tries to get him to calm down.

“So you just decided to live with this… Venom guy?” Matt asked, not really sure how to ‘perfectly’ respond to this situation. I mean for the many years he’s fought in Hell’s Kitchen, he’s never experienced something like this before.

“It’s kind of hard to get rid of him. He’s… persistent, I’ll give you that.” Y/N replies, with a small smile. “If I’m being honest, it was around the time you guys accepted me for an interview. I was more worried about acing that than dealing with a vicious conscience.” Then it fades. “Homelife not exactly… easy, so I guess it was nice to have someone to talk to. In a crazy kind of way.” A sigh. “I had no idea that he was important.”

“Are you going to give him back now that you know?” Karen asked, worried at what might come if she doesn’t.

“That’s the thing, If I give him back, they know who I am, and you saw what happened tonight. They’ll kill me no matter what.”

“Like hell I’m going to let that happen to you.” Matt says, confidently as he places a gentle hand on her shoulder (he could hear her pulse spiking at what she had said). “We’re going to figure this out. Don’t you worry, Y/N.”

She shakes her head. “I-I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Then don’t ask me.”

“You almost got hurt because of me! I’m not letting you put your life on the line for me. I can figure this out on my own.”

“Y/N, I’m a lawyer, you should know by now I don’t take ‘no’ for an answer easily.” His lips tug upwards, trying to make the best reassuring look he could make. “I’m going to help you–”

“We’ll help you.” Karen corrected.

“Yeah. We’ll help you, don’t you worry.” Matt faces his old roommate. “How long’s Marci out of town for?”

“Uh, next week. Six days to be exact.” Foggy says, after quick thinking.

“Good. We don’t have to worry about her safety.” Matt goes quiet, using his senses to figure out where they are before they move. “Alright, let’s go to my place.” He gestures for everyone to follow, his friends were, but not his assistant who was perplexed.

“Wait.” She blurts out, stopping them. “Shouldn’t we try finding somewhere else? It might not be smart to go to your own home.”

“It’s fine. It’s where we need to be for our next step.”

“Next step?” She asks, watching him start walking away again. “Which is…?”

.

.

.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

(TBC)

Stay tune for the next parts! || Part Two || Part Three

-Taglist is Open-

@indestructeible @mirkwoodshewolf @aew-kun-age-regression @nerds4life246

[bamber344]

Culture Shock

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it is 20 minutes to midnight but the chapter's done so i'm UPLOADING!!

Once again being bullied by these chapters, though for a very specific reason this time. I was stuck on one scene for like three days because I was trying to write a character doing something that I very much don't know how to do in real life.

Anyway, I'm overall pretty happy with how this one turned out. Enjoy!

CWs: Living weapon tingz, Jordyn's false belief that her abuse is normal, sexual references (in Jordyn's anatomically focused internal dialogue), dislocations, references to previous injury (stabbing), poor videogame skills

Culture Shock

“Need anything else?”

The officer shook his head. “Nah, I think we’re good. Tha-”

“Hey, get back here!”

I turned my head to find one of the suspects I’d just helped apprehend making a run for it. He must have wiggled free from the other officer’s grasp. No biggie. With a little bit of focus, I turned the darkness inside his pant leg solid, and sent a spike of it into the ground. With his hands cuffed behind his back, there was nothing stopping him from faceplanting hard on the asphalt road. Served him right for trying to run. The officer quickly grabbed him and dragged him back over to the cruiser.

The one in front of me cleared his throat. “Right. As I was saying, we should be good from here. Thanks for your help, Seven.”

I nodded, ignoring the way the name rankled. That was dangerous. I was starting to get used to being called ‘Jordyn’ again. “You’re welcome.”

Leaping up to a nearby rooftop and perching on the ledge, I stuck around and watched over the scene until the police left, just in case anything else happened, as per usual. By the time everything was done, the sun was starting to set, bathing Tombguard in a beautiful orange light. The season was turning, apparently. Summer had run its course, and now the weather would begin to grow colder. The idea was exciting. I didn’t feel like the outside world would ever lose its novelty after how long I spent in the facility.

I stepped back from the ledge to make sure no one could see me, and pulled my helmet off. Usually, that would be pretty risky, but I knew Father was out of his office right now, and the odds of him checking back over the footage were pretty low. Yes, I was taking a chance with being put back into that dark room and chained to the wall for another eight hours, but… Well, I’d been thinking about Maggie lately, along with everything she told me. Never stop asking questions, and all that.

Why did Father always want me to keep my helmet on? I thought it was to protect my identity, but everyone at the Union knew my identity now. Even if it was just to protect the sight of my face, surely it didn’t matter if no one was around to see it anyway, right? I mean, he let me run through the city without it back when we went to that ‘party’ thing, so… I felt bad just thinking it, but… it seemed a little arbitrary.  Especially when the wind picked up and I got to feel it rushing through what little hair growth I had since I last cut it two weeks ago – another one of my small transgressions, since Father almost never saw me without my helmet anyway.

These were questions I would’ve ordinarily purged from my mind the second they cropped up, but… after what happened with Steve, I’d been letting them sit and working through them in my head. I still didn’t have an answer for why I had to do that to him, and it was making me realise just how much else I didn’t have an answer to. I did what Father wanted because I owed him for saving me, and that wasn’t going to change, but I just wished he wouldn’t keep me in the dark so much. I knew I wasn’t as smart as Maggie seemed to think, but I didn’t think I was as stupid as Father thought, either. I could handle knowing the truth about more stuff.

…Well, it was pointless to think about. It wasn’t like I could just ask him to explain it all to me. I would have to work hard with this Union job and show him I could earn it.

Speaking of, I should probably head over there. It had been about two weeks since I first joined, and I’d only visited a handful of times. If I ever wanted to finish this mission, I needed to start sucking up my nerves and actually interact with the Union heroes. It was just… very uncomfortable whenever Vivienne was around. I wanted to spend time with her, but knowing what I did to her uncle, it was still difficult to be in her presence for any length of time.

Well, whether she was there or not, I couldn’t procrastinate forever. Better get moving.

—

I stepped into the Union conference room, looking around for any sign of life. So far, the place seemed empty. Aside from Muffin, of course, who somehow always knew when I’d arrived and was always there to greet me. He pranced up to me, trilling, and I removed one of my gauntlets to pet his weirdly wrinkly head.

“Wrinkly little boy,” I said. He mewed in agreement, nipping gently at my fingers.

With no one around, I decided I might as well explore the place on my own. To that end, I followed a hallway out of the conference room, taking turns randomly. Muffin came along for a bit, before getting bored and skulking off somewhere else.

Eventually, I came to what appeared to be some sort of gym. Brianna was there, running on one of the treadmills. Her braids were tied back behind her head, swaying back and forth with her movements. It looked like she’d worked up quite a sweat, based on the sheen that had covered her dark skin.

She turned her head towards me slightly, slowing the treadmill down to a walk. “That you, Jordyn?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?” I asked.

She smiled. “The way you walked in. You step like you’re trying not to be heard, but those boots aren’t exactly subtle when they hit the ground.”

…I did do that, didn’t I? “O-oh. I hadn’t realised. That… That’s a pretty impressive skill.”

Brianna shrugged. “Eh. I can’t see people when they approach, so I’ve had to figure out other ways of determining who’s who. Doesn’t work all the time, obviously, but you’re pretty unique, so it’s hard to mix you up with anyone.”

Unique, huh? The thought made me feel warm. “What if I didn’t have my armour on, though?”

She seemed to ponder on it for a second, then shrugged again. “Then I’d probably be out of luck unless you spoke.” She grinned, showing off her teeth. “Why, planning on stripping down?”

“No, just curious.”

Brianna paused, her expression faltering slightly. She then quietly chuckled for some reason, shaking her head. “Ah, you’re funny. Say, do you wanna run with me? I’ve still got a few K’s left before I hit my goal.”

It seemed as good an opportunity as any to start ingratiating myself, and I was no stranger to a treadmill. “Sure.”

I hopped up on the treadmill next to her, turning it on and slowly increasing the speed until I was at a steady run. For the most part, we remained silent, only focusing on the pounding of our feet and the occasional beep of Brianna’s treadmill announcing her progress every 500 metres or so. It was relaxing in a way training usually wasn’t for me. Probably because for once I couldn’t feel Father’s eyes on my back, watching for every mistake.

“You’re keeping a pretty good pace,” Brianna said. “Do this often?”

“Every day,” I replied. “It’s usually just a warm up for my daily training regiment. Gotta keep my stamina high, y’know?”

“Damn, I’ve gotta respect the grind. Though, with the work you do, I guess that’s to be expected. Bet you’ve got a pretty nice physique under that armour though, huh?”

“Y-yeah, it’s, uh… It’s pretty nice, I guess…” I muttered, insides swirling. “You’ve got a nice body, too.”

It was the truth. I wasn’t sure why, but I had to keep myself from constantly glancing over to her to catch another glimpse of her toned midriff, exposed by her exercise-wear. 

Brianna laughed. “Thanks, babe. I work pretty hard for it. You’ll have to show me yours sometime, too.”

I frowned. “How would that work if you can’t see?”

She grinned again. “I’ve got hands, don’t I? I’m sure I’ll be able to get the picture with those.”

I stumbled a bit on the treadmill, almost falling off before righting myself again. “Uh, y-yeah, I guess you would.”

…Wow, the thought of that felt funny. There was this weird, sparky sort of tingling in my gut, similar to that feeling I got back when I first figured out I could touch my clitoris to feel good, only not quite as strong yet. It made me want to go home and do that right now, actually. Or, alternatively, feel Brianna’s hands on my body and maybe between my legs as well. I wondered what that meant.

We ran in comfortable – yet contemplative, at least in my case – silence until Brianna finished up and reached her goal. She powered down her treadmill and got off, reaching down and picking a red and white cane up off the floor as she did so. I followed suit.

“So, you wanna… hit the showers?” she asked, enunciating the last part a little weirdly.

“No thanks. I usually just shower when I get back home.”

Brianna paused for a second, then shrugged. “Alright. Some other time, then. Catch you later, cutie.” 

She winked at me, before turning and making her way out of the gym, sweeping her cane back and forth in front of herself as she went. 

Wow, she was nice. I made a mental note to try and come back here around this time more often, so we could run together again.

Now that I was on my own, I turned back to the gym at large and had a proper look around. The space seemed pretty well-equipped. They obviously had an array of treadmills, but there was also an absolute truckload of other exercise equipment, too. Racks of weights, padded flooring clearly meant for sparring, a small selection of martial arts weaponry on one wall, and in an adjacent room, a big pit in the ground filled with water. That last one confused me a bit, so I ignored it, honing back in on what was familiar: the weaponry.

I picked a bō up off of the wall, examining it. The wood was rough and unfinished, as to be expected, and covered by a slight layer of dust. It was nothing I couldn’t wipe down though, and it had been a while since I got to work with one of these. Might as well make the most of it.

I walked out onto the sparring mat and settled into a comfortable stance, holding the bō in a standard two-handed grip. Taking a breath, I moved through what I remembered of my katas, swinging, thrusting, and spinning the bō around me, in sync with the rhythm of my body. As more came back to me, I began moving through them faster, striking harder, picturing targets in my mind’s eye to take down with my attacks.

Once I’d gone through each remembered kata at least three times, I began improvising, following the learned movements of my bō training and applying them to my own usual fighting style. The bō became an extension of my limbs, lashing out further and with greater power than I’d usually be able to muster on my own. I started flourishing a little, just for fun, spinning the bō around my arms and back as I brought it in for a strike. Then I began incorporating my shadows, using the bō as a conduit to manipulate them to my will.

Despite how hard I was pushing myself to maintain my speed and precision in my practice, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so relaxed. Going through these repetitive yet satisfying movements without Father lurking over my shoulder felt… fun. Almost freeing, in a way. I’d never thought training could be enjoyable, and yet here I was, actually having a good time while working out for a change.

Once I was satisfied, I finished off with one final strike before settling back into a neutral stance, taking a deep breath and letting the tension flow out of my muscles.

A small round of applause from the side of the room startled me. I whirled around to find Vivienne leaning against the wall, clapping her hands along with one other guy I didn’t recognise, who was sitting on the bench next to her.

“That was impressive, Jordyn. You’ll have to teach me how to do that someday,” she said.

“Oh. Uh, thanks,” I replied. “When did you get here?”

“A couple minutes ago. I was actually looking for you. Brea told me you were in here.”

The guy stood up, waving. “I’m here too. The name’s Rishta. I was just coming by to do my dailies, but that was some awesome shit you just did there. Where’d you learn?”

“I had a trainer. I’m a little rusty, though,” I answered, then looked at Vivienne. “What did you need?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out. I’ve finished all my studies for today, so I’ve got some time to kill. Do you wanna do anything?”

On one hand, this was a great opportunity to start gaining more trust among the higher-up Union members, as Vivienne seemed to be, as well as an opportunity to just to spend more time with her, which a large part of me still really wanted to do. On the other, what happened to Steve still sat heavily at the back of my mind. I couldn’t keep running from her forever, though. I was never going to make up for the pain I’d caused if I just kept hiding from ever having to think about it. If she had gone so far as to actively seek me out, it meant she wanted to see me. It would only hurt her more if I kept turning her down.

“Uh, y-yeah, sure. What did you have in mind?”

“Hold on,” Rishta interrupted. “Before you girls go anywhere; Jordyn, could I spar with you?”

Finally, something familiar. This must be a common pastime here. As much as I hated fighting, it was something I could do well. Accepting his offer would be a great way to start making ground on my mission. “Okay.”

He clapped his hands. “Great! I’ve been wanting to test your mettle ever since I saw you kick some guy’s ass on the news. I’ve been doing MMA for almost my whole life, but I’ve never seen moves like that. I’d be really interested to hear where you learned your stuff.”

Vivienne rolled her eyes with a smirk, sitting down on the bench. “Well, I guess I’ll ref, then.”

Rishta turned to her, hands clasped in apology. “Sorry Viv, just one match. It won’t take that long!”

She smiled. “It’s fine. It’ll make for some entertainment to see you get put on your ass at least.”

“Damn. Confident in Jordyn, aren’t you?” 

“Jordyn is a highly trained special forces police officer. You are an admittedly pretty good martial artist. While I do think you have a chance, Jordyn’s got you beat in the experience department by a mile.”

“Okay, I’ll concede that,” Rishta said. “Either way, win or lose, I just wanna see how I fair. So, ref, what are the rules?”

Vivienne seemed to think for a second before deciding. “One round, either a ten second pin or a tap-out. No power use. Also, Jordyn? You’ve gotta take your armour off, otherwise it isn’t fair.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Why’s that?”

Rishta snorted. “Uh, because if you hit me with those metal fists you’re liable to take teeth out? And also, how am I meant to land a hit if I might break my wrist with a solid punch?”

That was… pretty reasonable, actually. There was a reason most of my trainers used special equipment when I was fighting them in my armour.

“Okay, but… I’m not allowed to let people see my face.”

“You can use your powers to cover it up, but only for that,” Vivienne said. “Like that night we ran into each other, remember?”

I nodded. “Yeah, alright.”

There was a chance Father would be mad at me for doing this, but… technically, I was still following all of his rules, right? Yes, he wanted me to keep my armour on at all times outside of my quarters, but if they still couldn’t see my face, what did it really matter? If he wanted me to gain their trust, I was gonna have to take some risks.

Step by step, I peeled my armour off, piling it on the floor. I summoned a cloud of shadows around my face before pulling off my helmet, and left it with the rest. 

Rishta whistled. “Damn, girl. You are built.” 

I didn’t know what that meant. Glancing at Vivienne heeded no clues, either. She was too busy looking at my arms, for whatever reason.

“Uh, sorry?”

Vivienne stood up, walking over. “He means you’re muscular. Seriously though, you have some nice arms.” She reached out, but stopped before she could make contact. “Can I feel?”

Most of the time, when people needed to touch me, they just did it. It was weird for her to ask, but oddly, it actually made me feel better about saying yes. I nodded, holding my arm out to her. 

She placed a cold hand on my bicep, gently squeezing, before running her fingers up to my shoulder. I was only dressed in a tanktop and my underwear, so she had a lot of space to explore.

“What’s this scar here?” she asked, tracing over an indent on the front of my shoulder.

“A criminal’s knife got through my armour. It was a long time ago, though.”

Vivienne paused, stepping back with an odd look on her face. “Right…”

Rishta cleared his throat. “Are we gonna spar? Or do I need to give you two some space together?”

Vivienne’s face turned a fascinating shade of pink. She whirled around to Rishta, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “That’s enough out of you.”

“I’m ready,” I said.

“Alright, let’s do this,” he replied, walking into the sparring ring. I followed behind him and settled into a fighting stance on the opposite side.

“Are you both good to go?” Vivienne asked from the sidelines.

“Yup,” Rishta replied. 

“Yes,” I said.

“Alright. Remember, you win by either pinning the other person for ten seconds, or getting them to tap out. No power usage. Just a clean and friendly match. Alright, fight!”

I inched towards Rishta, keeping a close eye on his movements as he did the same. Due to my lack of coverage, I was at a slight disadvantage; any twitch in my muscles to indicate my thoughts would be that much more visible, and I couldn’t read his thanks to his baggy clothing. I would just have to trust in my own reflexes.

We reached contact distance and Rishta didn’t waste any time, throwing out a few clear jabs to test me. I batted them away with ease, and returned with a few of my own. He ducked out of the way of one, but the second grazed his ear. He flinched, jumping back out of my range.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Faster than I thought. That’s fine.”

Why he was wasting time talking to himself, I didn’t know. I would, however, be taking advantage of it. I darted forward, aiming to sink a fist into his solar plexus before he could react. His reaction speed was pretty good though, as he noticed just in time and moved to block the hit. My fist was redirected, but I still landed a glancing blow on his ribs that would succeed in winding him a bit all the same.

I didn’t let up, aiming high this time. He blocked a hook directed at his jaw and grabbed my arm, clearly aiming to throw me as he spun into my centre. I moved with the throw, flipping over in the air to land back on my feet, and used my momentum to land a solid kick to his side. Rishta gasped, letting go of me and backing up.

“F-fuck, Jordyn. You’re-”

Apparently, he hadn’t learned his lesson. I just wanted to get this over with, so I moved in for the kill, returning his attempt at a throw by slipping my leg behind his and flipping him over my hip. He slammed back-first onto the mat and I wasted no time, grabbing his arm and pulling it between my legs as I wrapped them around his throat and waist, trapping him in an armbar. Then, I dropped to my back, squeezed my legs, and pulled with all my strength, pushing my hips up at the same time.

Rishta screamed as the pressure mounted, and it wasn’t long before the tell-tale pop of his shoulder leaving his socket reached my ears. This fight was over.

I released his arm and rolled back up to my feet. Rishta remained on the floor, catching his breath and groaning.

“What the fuck was that?!”

I looked up to find Vivienne staring at me, a horrified expression on her face. “What did you do?!”

“I dislocated his shoulder,” I replied. Why did she look so bothered?

Vivienne’s face didn’t change. “Why?!”

I frowned. “I… I don’t understand. What’s wrong?”

“J-Jordyn,” Rishta called from the floor, voice shaking. “While that was a s-seriously impressive armbar, I… I think she wants to know… wh-why you felt the need to dislocate my FUCKING shoulder!”

“Isn’t… Isn’t that normally how sparring matches go?” I asked, starting to get the distinct feeling I’d done something very, very wrong. “I dislocate my shoulders at least once a week in training.”

Vivienne’s face finally shifted, all the way from horror to pity. “Oh, Jordyn… No, that’s… that’s not normal. You shouldn’t be dislocating anything at all ever. I’m shocked you can even move your arms at this point if it’s happening so frequently.”

I looked down at Rishta, his face contorted in pain. Pain that I caused. I just couldn’t stop hurting people, could I? “I… don’t understand.”

What did ‘not normal’ even mean? This was just the way it had always been. I trained, and if I wasn’t good enough, I was hurt. My shoulders came out easier and easier the more it happened, but that was just what I deserved for failing to meet Father’s expectations. Was that… not how it was done in the Heroes’ Union? Was Father hurting me for no reason? No, definitely not. I never would have become as strong as I am if he didn’t train me like he did. But… If all of these heroes could do their jobs without needing to go through that training…

Vivienne kneeled down, helping Rishta to his feet. “We’ll talk more about this later, Jordyn. Right now, I need to get him to urgent care.”

No. No, I caused this pain, but I knew how to fix it, too. I needed to fix it. 

“W-wait, I know how to put it back in. P-please, let me help.”

Vivienne looked at me appraisingly, and then at Rishta. “Are you okay with that?” she asked. 

“If she’s really dislocated her sh- shit-” he paused, wincing for a second, “shoulders as much as she says she has, I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. Let her have a go.”

Vivienne nodded, gently laying him back down. I kneeled down next to him, hands shaking, throat clogged with the need to cry. Now wasn’t the time for that, so I forced it back.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I- I just thought this was how it was.”

“It’s cool, Jordyn. You don’t get very far as a martial artist if you hold a grudge every time someone puts you on your ass. If you wanna make it up to me, you can teach me how you did that flippy thing when I tried to throw you. Also, find a new trainer. Yours sounds like an asshole. Maybe a therapist, too.”

I grunted noncommittally. As if Father would ever let me choose my trainers. Also, I didn’t know what a therapist was, so it was hard to agree to that, as well.

Step by step, I walked him through the process of getting his shoulder back into place. He cried out a bit louder than expected when it popped back in, but succeeded nonetheless.

“Shit, that was intense,” Rishta muttered, still catching his breath, tears visibly pricking his eyelids.

“Feel better?” Vivienne asked.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Do you have a sling you could use? Standard procedure with shoulder dislocations is to give the joint a rest for a week. If not, I could get one for you.”

“Thanks, Viv. That’d be great.”

“And you,” she said, rounding on me, poking me in the chest. “Rest your shoulders before you lose use of them entirely. You’re gonna give yourself arthritis.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

Vivienne sighed. “Do your shoulders hurt?”

I frowned. “Yeah. All the time. Don’t everyone’s?” 

“Jordyn.” Her voice turned soft. “Most people aren’t in any pain at all. Your shoulders hurt because they’ve been constantly abused. Every time you dislocate them, the muscles and tendons are stretched far beyond what they’re made for. Even when you set the joint back in, the damage stays, and it takes time, and more importantly, rest, to recover. Even with the rest, your joint becomes weaker. I’m not a doctor, but I am in medical school, and honestly? I think at this point the only way you’re going to ever fully recover is through major surgery.”

“Oh.” That was… a lot to take in. There was no way that was correct, though. Father wouldn’t let me continue to injure myself if it would affect my performance in the long run, right? My performance was practically all he cared about.

“I know that must be pretty daunting, but don’t worry too much, okay?” Vivienne put a hand on my shoulder and I felt it dig straight into my heart. The tears started forcing their way back up my throat, despite my best efforts. “The Union is here for you. You’re never alone when you’re with us.”

This was too much. I needed to get out of here. I’d done my part for the day and now I needed to go.

I moved past Vivienne towards where my armour was, and began re-equipping it as fast as I could. Neither of them spoke a word or tried to stop me, and once everything was back where it should be, I all-but ran out of the room and out of the building, jumping up to the rooftops to hide.

Maybe one day I’d be able to have a normal interaction with Vivienne without feeling more emotions than I thought possible, but today wasn’t that day. So much was running through my head, and I didn’t know what to do with any of it. Once again, that advice from Maggie rang through my ears. Father was hurting me unnecessarily, and I couldn’t understand why. More importantly, how the hell was I supposed to unravel all of this when barely getting through the day took so much brain power already?

Vivienne said the Union would be there for me when I needed them. But would they be there for this? 

—

“No, no, no, no, no, no- Aw, come on!” Vivienne grumbled, throwing the controller down on the bed. 

“Did you die again?” Brea asked.

“Shut up.”

“Have you tried turning the difficulty down?”

“Brianna, I swear to god.”

Brianna giggled, sinking back against the pillows. “I’m just sayin’. Listening to you die over and over again is starting to get boring.”

“Why don’t you try it, then?” Viv teased, though she knew it was a bit of a low blow.

“Ooh, you’re so funny, Viv.”

Vivienne grunted. In truth, she wasn’t all that invested in the game. The earlier events of the day were still taking up far too many of her thoughts for that. Rishta would be fine after a week or so, of course, and he was a remarkably good sport about the whole incident. No, he wasn’t the issue. The issue was that Jordyn had once again inadvertently revealed something about her life that she deemed innocuous, but was actually horrifying, and now Vivienne couldn’t stop thinking about it. The poor girl dislocated her shoulders once a week! She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised, given what they’d learned about Jordyn’s origins. It made sense that de Vygon wouldn’t bother being too protective of her when he literally grew her in a tube and could grow another just as easily. Still, it was just… so fucked up. Vivienne wanted to grab hold of Jordyn, wrap her in blankets, stop forcing her to hide her face, give her a hot chocolate and some plushies and a kiss on the forehead, and put her in front of a tv with some disney movies or something. Just… anything to alleviate the trauma that poor girl was going through on a daily basis.

Yes, these things took time and she just needed to be patient. But knowing that didn’t make the burning need to do something any less powerful.

“So,” Brianna said, holding the syllable out for far longer than necessary. “What do you think about Jordyn?”

Vivienne blinked. Apparently, Brianna had the power to read minds on top of her ability to turn into smoke.

“What do you mean?”

Brianna sighed. “I dunno. Think she likes girls?”

Ah. That made more sense. “Hard to say. Maybe? Why?”

“I was putting out a couple of feelers today when we were running on the treadmills together; y’know, trying to see how receptive she was to a casual fuck. She seemed into it, but then she turned me down when I invited her to the showers, so I’m not really sure.”

Vivienne snorted at her bluntness. “You wanna screw Jordyn?”

“Yeah, why not? She’s cute, isn’t she?”

“I dunno, I’ve never seen her face.”

“I mean, like, her personality ‘n stuff. Y’know, hardworking, determined, but kinda naive. And at the same time, sort of meek. It’s interesting. I’d like to know more about her.”

“And, to do that you’re gonna bang her?” Vivienne asked.

“Well, to be honest, she gives me major anxiety vibes. It would probably be good for her to unwind, y’know? Obviously, if she doesn’t want to, I’m cool to just hang with her, but I’m of the opinion that fucking someone is the single best icebreaker there is. Once you share that… that ultimate vulnerability with each other, there’s no nerves getting in the way anymore, y’know? Isn’t that how our friendship started?”

“I- well, okay fine, you’ve got me there,” Viv admitted, much to her chagrin. Sleeping with Brianna had been a great way to loosen up and also gain some confidence in herself after joining the Union. Hell, it would probably be just as useful for Jordyn, just like Brea was saying. But, knowing what she knew about Jordyn’s whole deal, it could definitely backfire if not handled with caution.

“Still, if you’re gonna do it, just… be careful? Jordyn seems like she’s got a lot going on, and she might… I don’t know… go along with it when she doesn’t really want to. I get the feeling she has trouble saying no to people.”

Brea hummed. “Yeah, I can definitely see that. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. Either way, I gotta get my intentions through to her first.”

“Honestly? You’re probably best off just being straightforward. Like you said, she’s pretty naive. If you’re not clear, she’s not gonna get it; like you inviting her to the showers.”

“Yeah, that tracks... Anyway, that aside, are you gonna keep playing any time soon? I’m actually starting to get invested in the plot, but if all I can hear for the next hour is the sound of you getting your ass kicked, I’m leaving.”

A laugh burst up from Vivienne’s chest. “Oh, okay then. Tell me how you really feel, Brea.”

She fished the controller up from where it had fallen between her and Brianna’s legs, and unpaused the game. It was serious now; her pride was on the line. Vivienne was gonna beat this boss or die trying.

It was a little weird to think about; Brianna and Jordyn having sex. Part of her instinctively objected to the idea, on the basis of Jordyn’s sheltered-ness and naivety. But, in truth, Jordyn was a grown woman, and she deserved to make her own choices, even- no, especially when it came to stuff like this. Besides, Vivienne trusted Brea. Regardless of how it turned out or what Jordyn decided, she trusted that Brianna would do the right thing. She knew what she was doing in this department far more than Vivienne could ever hope to. There was nothing to worry about. It would all turn out for-

“Did you just die again?”

“Fuck!”

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @thataquaticwhumper

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue @lettherebepain

@bacillusinfection

This arc is great because it means I can explore Brianna more, since she lives at the Union HQ. She is fr everybody's friend and it is mostly because she just does not gaf about societal norms of intimacy and will love on you platonically until you accept your new best friend. She knows what she wants and how to get it.

(can you tell that her flirting scene was the one that gave me so much grief?)

If you can't already tell, the next chapter will very likely be saucy, unless I decide to put a buffer between them. So, if you're here for that, get ready >:) If you're not here for that, uh... my condolences. I will try to remember to indicate how to skip those parts.

Lemme know what you thought of the chap with a comment or reblog! See ya next time!

[kosije]

a/n: never have unprotected sex with strangers! only read about it <3 also this is a old work i just added a bit onto...

cw: mdni, mechanic!hawks x fem!reader, use of doll/ma'am/miss, unprotected sex, missionary, pretty vanilla, simp behavior by hawks, reader calls him keigo, corny dialogue, horrible capitalization (im so srry), probably wont edit this lol...

It's been hours. It's been hours and you're dripping sweat despite the multitude of cold drinks you've ingested from the vending machine in your local auto care. You just took your car in for an oil change and regretted not getting a bus ride back. The more the round clock above the register desk clicked, the more impatient you're getting and the smell of gasoline was hurting your head. After bobbing your leg up and down a little more, you decide to just go out and check on your car.

"Hey! Uh, my car was scheduled to be done 30 minutes ago. Is there any way I can check on it right now? Do you have an ETA of some sort?"

The receptionist, a dark-haired boy with a red choker, looks up empathetically before clicking his keyboard.

"Sorry miss, I dunno much about that, but let me call up your mechanic. What number are you?"

"3389"

"3....3....8- oh Hawks is working on that one! I'll call to see if you can get buzzed in, but no need to worry. He is our fastest and most skilled mechanic, so your car will be good as new as soon as he's done."

The boy's voice becomes the slightest bit animated and you feel your annoyance tone down. But you didn't care if it was "good as new," just as long as you could get home safe.

"Okay, thank you."

His fingers quickly punch into a corded phone before a voice comes on the other line.

"He said it should be done in 2, but you're more than welcome to go in."

You nod and thank the teen before stumbling past wired gates and stray cigarettes before finding your car. It looks damn good. Originally a somewhat hand-me-down from your mother to yourself, it was always beautiful on the outside. The silhouette was a classic thing. real sleek and "real groovy" according to your mother. But the upsides stopped at the exterior.

The ac was loud, and the radio was spotty. Even the leather seats were chipping, despite the multitude of repairs you've paid for out of pocket.

But now the car looks brand new. The shell of your car is clean and shiny. When you open the door, you're pleasantly surprised by the smell of musky cologne and your clean linen car freshener, and even more surprised when you can't see where the patches of missing leather are. you almost let yourself smile before realizing this might be a scam to force you to pay for the advancements.

You're too busy peeking into your interior to notice another person walking up.

"Is this ya car, or you lookin' for a ride to jack?"

You flinch slightly but recover yourself well enough to turn to face the deep voice and a rush of heat flushes over you. Sharp amber eyes run over your figure as you busy yourself with getting a good look at the man leaning against the bumper of your car. messy blonde hair, healthy tan, scruff, and muscular. All things you like, except (so far) his personality.

"And you are?"

"The mechanic, doll," He replies in a "duh" voice, slipping his arms out of his dirtied blue denim overalls and crossing them over the other. You don't miss how his biceps flex slightly at the gesture.

"You got anything else to ask, or are you jus’ gonna keep checking me out?"

"I wasn't checking you out."

"Whatever makes you feel better," He laughs, walking up only to lean on the steel table behind you.

"Look this is my car-" He cuts you off by reading your name off a stray paper that has dirt and oil on it, raising an eyebrow and you nod a confirmation.

He offhandedly purrs something about the name being pretty, and you have to consciously ignore the burn in your cheeks.

"Just tell me how much the repair is gonna cost," the question comes out with a sigh, and now it's your turn to cross your arms. It's done out of attitude, but when his eyes lower to focus on your chest, electricity trickles down your spine.

"You gonna answer or keep checking me out?"

coughing and readjusting himself on the table, he tells you $110.

"Are you kidding? The oil change was 60!"

"I did a whole lot besides an oil change, doll"

"without my consent! This has got to be illegal!" 

"Well, how about this?" he says, moving closer to you, and you can now see just how much he dwarfs you in size. "You pay $40 bucks, and let me take you out to dinner."

well... that wasn't something you were expecting.

"I don't know you."

"I know."

"You don't know me."

"Let's change that then." He says. The smirk he has is toothy and could almost be seen as sweet if he didn't just try to scam you out of $50. After another beat of silence, he talks again.

"Don't be brutal, doll. You know you're just as excited to see where this goes."

"I don't usually date scammers." You finally say, but it's meek and you instantly regret it because all he does is smile wider.

"There's a first for everything."

... 

You don't know why you agreed and gave him your number and address. But you did. You also don't know why you're wearing such an expensive dress and perfume. Or why you're putting on makeup. But you are. It was all too elaborate for a one-off date with a random man. Nevertheless, here you were, crouching down to put your bobby pins in your hair because your dress didn't allow for enough movement.

There are three quick knocks at your door before you hear Hawk's voice. 

"I'm starving, doll. Don't leave me like this." 

Bastard

You quickly give yourself a one-over and head to the door. When you open it you see Hawks, except he looks different. His hair is neatly brushed back, and he swapped his stronger cologne for a much more elegant one that matches even better with yours. simple suit and tie with square-cut earrings.

"you look good" he looks better than good, but you don't wanna say anything that'll inflate his ego more.

"you look perfect," and he punctuates it by saying your name instead of 'doll' and you like the way it sounds more than you thought.

Hovering over you now with one arm on the doorframe. He stretches out a hand with a small grin.

"May I? " You place your hand in his.

"You May."

...

5 things you've learned about Hawks Keigo so far

1. his real name is Keigo, hawks being a nickname he got in his youth because of his speed and eyes

2. his hand is much larger than yours

3. he has great taste in restaurants

4. his favorite food is yakitori (a new favorite of yours too)

5. he's ready to go back to your place

"How was your food?"

"It was actually... great"

"C'mon, don't act all reluctant! This restaurant has never done me wrong!" He says as you shift the air conditioner to fan your face and turn the radio up a bit.

"Right, yakitori connoisseur. I can see why you'd take your dates here."

"You're the first." He says emphasizing the last part with a sly look over to your spot in the passenger seat of his Mercedes. It's an admission that has a smile threatening to find a home on your lips, but you turn your head to face outside the window and he chuckles knowingly.

"Or are you saying this should now be the spot? Cuz I could make that work."

"You sure know how to ruin a mood." You're laughing at his feigned hurt expression as he steers with one hand while the other goes over his heart.

"How rude!" He says before the hand over his heart falls to your thigh and suddenly you're hyperaware of how warm he is. "I'll make sure this spot is special to just you."

If the hand on your thigh wasn't enough, the sincerity of his tone has you reeling and reaching over his middle console to kiss him. Soft, short, and sweet on his cheek. You can hear his breath hilt and the smell of his cologne is stronger. When you pull back, you can see the mark of your lipstick on his cheek. And his hand squeezes your thigh tighter.

"You're driving me crazy, doll."

"...was that a pun because you're driving?"

"What?"

"I said-" 

he dramatically turns up the radio and you roll your eyes when he excessively mouths 'I can't hear you!' 

"YOU'RE LUCKY THIS SONG IS GOOD!" you yell into his ear and he laughs, drawing circles onto your thigh with his thumb. The ride back to your apartment is shorter than you'd like, but at least he walks you up to your door, right?

"I don't usually invite scammers into my house."

"yeah?" he asks, hands already on your waist and head tilted.

"but there's a first for everything, isn't there?"

"id like that," he says, smiling down at you as you walk backward into your living room.

His lips are feverish on yours, tongue exploring as deep as it can into your mouth until his and your lips are purple and swollen before drawing purple bruises all over your neck and chest, just over your tits. Your body is hot and you hurriedly pull your arms out of your dress and shimmy it off-eliciting a pleasured hum when he finds that you're not wearing a bra- as he quickly tosses his button-up and jacket before his lips are back onto yours. Your hands wrap around Keigo's neck and his hands cup under your ass and lift you up.

"First door on your right." 

Following your instructions, he walks with you to his arms to your room and tosses you on the familiar sheets of your bed.

"Do you want this?" he asks, hands working on his belt

"Please."

His jaw clenches, and in a second he's bare in front of you.

And big. Much bigger than you think you can take. Thick veins wrap around his cock and you can tell he shaved just for tonight. He runs a finger up and down your clothing slit. Your lips part and a soft sigh rolls off your tongue.

"Don't be a tease."

"Yes ma'am," his finger hooks on the edge of your lace panties and slides them off before running his cock up and down to gather your slick with a quiet groan. Without warning, he slides into you, and you're both vocal. after letting you adjust to his length, he slowly starts moving inside of you, then faster and you're whining around him.

"so pretty," comes out a gasp when his hands pull your legs over his shoulders.

"yer so pretty. And yer the tightest lil' thing I've ever had. Why don't we make an h-habit of this, hmm?" 

"The sex or–fuck–dinner?" You ask, trying to slow the coil in your gut with deep breaths.

"Both."

"That sounds like dating." 

"It's not–shiit"

"How so?" You ask, moaning into the back of your hand when he switches his angle and hits that spot that has you seeing stars.

"You don't date scammers," he says and you would laugh if you didn't have drool sliding down the side of your mouth. His eyes flicker to it and when he licks it up, only to kiss it back into your mouth, and your nails find his back and rake over the skin in an attempt to ground yourself.

"So...what...' bout...it," he asks between kisses and you roll your eyes. When you don't answer, he grunts and stalls all movements.

"What-"

"Answer me and I'll move." 

His eyes widen as he watches you move up and down on your own.

"Stubborn," he whispers out, still wide-eyed when his lips split into a grin. "you won't be able to fuck yerself the way I do it. So just be good 'nd-"

"Yes." you bite out. Your pride feels robbed, but you can tell he's right when you feel your stomach ache.

"Yes, what?"

He's moved again, but it's too slow for your liking and leaves you irritated. You're exactly where he wants you, and so—reluctantly — you mutter:

"Let's make this a habit!" 

An uncharacteristically soft hand cups your cheek and your stomach twist.

"I knew you could be good for me," he says, lips pressing into the side of your mouth and you're writhing. 

Speeding up again, you feel that familiar flame of pleasure ignite within you and tangle your hands into his blonde strands. The room is filled with slaps and moans and if you weren't so fucked out, you might've been able to hear your headboard knocking against the wall and how the mess of your nightstand slightly bounces from the source. Praises are whispered in between messy thrusts and you try your best to focus on the sweat running down your back to let the feeling of him inside you last longer, but your toes are curled and can taste blood from how hard you’re biting down on your lip. 

“Don't shy away now, I love that pretty voice of yours,” and his face looks so much in ecstasy that when his tip hits that spot in you again a pornographic moan leaves your lips, and the flood of pleasure hits you is as foreign as it is blissful. You almost gave no control of yourself. barely hushing yourself, barely able to unravel your legs from around his hips, all too consumed in your high. But Keigo is no better. When your legs ease the hold around his hips, he hurriedly pulls out, but not fast enough, and globs of white spray onto your pussy and all over your chest, even up to your neck. He can only pump himself a few more times before he's falling on top of you with a huff, knocking the air out of you. 

"U-P!" you gasp out, hitting his chest until he rolls over with a sheepish look.

"'M sorry," is all that he says before narrowing his eyes when you giggle.

"Didn't know nutting took that much energy out."

"me neither," he says, joining in on your giggles with a squawk-like laugh that makes you laugh even harder. "I've never come that hard."

"I'm flattered." You purr, smiling up at the ceiling. "I don't think ill be able to walk for a couple of days myself."

And you were joking, but when he laughs and hoists himself up with a hand on your thigh, the soreness humbles you and you realize there's more truth to that statement than you care to admit. You point to the bathroom and he nods, disappearing and reappearing with a damp rag and cleans you up. 

"How do you like your baths?"

"Warm." you twitch when he wipes over a sensitive part, earning a reassuring kiss on the cheek.

When he's done, he moves back into your bathroom and you can hear him turn on the faucet, and you stretch to your legs until the water is turned off and he's scooping you into his arms. When you've finished, he offers to carry you back to bed, but you insist on getting back on your own, even if your legs felt a bit wobbly. You slip into something comfortable while he puts on what he had on before, only now it's wrinkled. You expect him to leave immediately after he's dressed.

"what are you going to watch me sleep?"

"just waiting for you to invite me to stay the night"

"not gonna happen," you say and laugh at the way he pouts. "next time, maybe." And now you're laughing harder at how quickly his expression changed to a smile.

He leans down to kiss you long and slow, pulling away to leave a peck on your cheek. 

"Same time next week?" he asks, giving you another peck, this time along your cheek. You mumble an affirmation, eyes blissfully shut as his lips move to our neck.

"and the one after that. " And he's grinning against you again when he says this.

"Overzealous, don't ya think?" not missing the glint in his eyes when they meet yours again. Same gold that seems to shimmer close up.

"Just makin' a habit of it." Is all he says, same beautiful eyes looking down at you, same lopsided grin, now pretty purple marks on his neck. 

And all you can do is say,

"okay, same time next week."

[slowardblonkey]

This is based on a true story. Since it was years ago, I had to sort of fabricate some of the fine details and dialogue, but for all intents and purposes, you can consider this a true story.

Feedback welcome ?

Some years ago, I had an online omo friend, who took joy from making me hold for her, so I told her that she could control what I drink, and when I would be allowed to release it. I would come to find out, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

At the time, I had been doing quite a bit of holding, and had developed a rather large bladder from it. I believe at the time I could hold somewhere around 1700 ml.

The morning we began, I was allowed to pee at 11 a.m. and told only to drink if I was thirsty. Now, this struck me as rather odd, since I was expecting her to want me desperate that night, after my parents went to bed. (I was in college, but staying with them for the summer)

They day carried on as normal, with me drinking fairly little. (which is about normal for me. Terrible, I know.) I had a glass of water with my lunch, and sipped down another over the course of the afternoon. What also surprised me was how little I heard from the girl in charge of my bladder. It was getting close to dinner time when I got the text: “Have an extra glass of water with dinner ? ” and of course my response was “yes ma'am” as always. For the time being, it had to be. I wasn’t worried about the extra glass, I barely felt anything in my bladder at all at this point.

So, as 7:00 approached, dinner came, and as instructed, I had my glass of water, finished it as I ate, and had another before it was over. By 8, dinner was done and cleaned up, so I texted her again, asking if I had any more instructions. No reply. The next few hours went by without much excitement. I watched some tv, and felt the water from dinner make its way into my bladder. By 10:00 I was feeling those little bladder twinges, hinting at me to go to the bathroom. Not anything I would call urgent, though.

By 11, I was growing tired, and a little impatient. I was ready to give up this game and go to bed, since it wasn’t really turning out to be that exciting.

“Hey, I’m getting ready to go to bed pretty soon… Can I go pee now?”

Finally! A response.

“No, you can hold it. Goodnight ;* ”

Oh.

Well that’s not how I thought that would go…

Usually that’s when these things end..

It’s a little concerning, but at least it’s interesting now.

So I head to bed. For someone that usually pees right before bed every night, going to bed with a slight urge to pee was a very strange feeling, and so it took a good while for me to finally drift off to sleep.

7:00- I wake up, and the very first thing I notice is my bladder, now with 20 hours of urine collected inside it. It was full. Not bursting, but definitely uncomfortable. I could definitely do with some relief at this point, so I text her.

“Good morning”

“Good morning! How did you sleep?”

“Pretty well. It took a little while to get there though. But um… I kinda need to pee.. pretty badly now.. Can I go please? I haven’t since yesterday morning”

“Aw, does someone need a potty break? How bad is it?”

“Well, it definitely wants out, although the urge has died back a little since I first woke up. It’s under control. It feels full and heavy, like there’s a canteloupe in my stomach.”

“So it’s under control? Good! Because I wasn’t planning on letting you go. If I did, then you wouldn’t be full for tonight ? ”

“TONIGHT?! I can’t wait that long! I already really need to go!”

“I think you can do it ?

Oh, and make sure you have a glass of water with lunch ;* check in with me after that. TTYL”

I really had no idea how I was going to wait that long.. But I had my orders.

So I went about my morning as usual, doing some chores and working on a couple little projects I had going on. As I got used to the fullness in my bladder, it became slightly less distracting, but it was always there, and it would always catch my attention again sooner or later. All I could do was bounce my knees a little and try to push it to the back of my mind.

The morning dragged on, but eventually lunchtime came. I just made myself a sandwich, nothing fancy, and the obligatory glass of water to wash it down. My bladder was not happy about the water. Every drink seemed to go straight into it, even though I knew better. I spent much of lunch bouncing my knees under the table to cope with the water I had to drink, but nobody was around too close, so I could get away with it. And as instructed, when I finished my lunch, I texted her an update on my condition.

Afterwards, I took to some reading, hoping that getting lost in a book would help take my mind off my bladder. And after 30 minutes of trying to get focused on it, it did start to work. Unfortunately, it was short lived, as right about then, my phone buzzed.

“Glad to hear you’re holding up so well. I think now would be a perfect time for you to do the dishes, since you’ll need to anyway, and your bladder isn’t going to get any better, don’t you think? ? ”

*Oh no.. dishes.. Just what I need. *

I get up, and notice that while I was reading, the water from lunch had made its way to my bladder, which had now reached the next level of fullness. I felt like I had a large water balloon in my stomach. It was so full that it made me want to bend forward slightly, and I had to put extra effort into standing up straight and not drawing attention to myself.

*Oh no, this isn’t good… It’s only 1:30.. I still have at least 9 hours until everyone else goes to sleep… I don’t know if I can do this..*

So I go downstairs and start on the dishes. Ohhh dishes on a full bladder is not fun.. It took everything I had not to squirm around while the water was running. Even worse when my hands were in the water. I’ve never done dishes faster in my life. I just wanted to be done with them.

After what felt like 2 hours, and was really probably only 20 minutes, I was finally finished with the dishes, and ohh boy my bladder was not happy.. As soon as I dried my hands, I retreated to my room so I could make a private show of squirming around and grabbing myself to try and get the urge back under control. After several minutes of this, my bladder started to calm down a bit, and reverted to the (mostly) dull fullness that I had been getting used to. Although, it still felt fuller this time… so full..

“Hey.. doing the dishes with my bladder like this was really hard! I really don’t know if I can make it to tonight.. it’s so full.. I’ve never even held it this long before! Are you sure I can’t go pee? Pleasseee?"

After a few minutes with no reply, I decide to go back to reading again. It’s even tougher to get into this time. I can’t even find a comfortable position to sit with my full bladder being unhappy with even the slightest pressure on it. But I keep trying, because I’m sure that being totally distracted by a book is the only way I’m going to make it through the many hours that I have left to hold.

Eventually, I do get into the groove with reading, despite being interrupted by a strong urge from my bladder every ten minutes or so. Read, squeeze, read, don’t pee, read, just hold it, read, don’t look at the clock, read, squirm, read. Amazingly, I was able to get invested in the story, and not realize that hours had passed while I was reading.

When I came to, it was close to 6:00, and my bladder was making itself known, constantly. It had become too distracting to read. There was a constant urge to squirm. I needed something more engaging than a book now.. I noticed I’d missed a message:

"Aw, but you’re doing so well so far! I know you can do it, just hang in there ? Oh, and don’t forget to drink a glass of water with dinner ? AND fill up a glass to take back to your room afterwards. I’ll talk to you then ;* ”

Aghh even the thought of having to drink more water made me squirm again.. I really didn’t know how I was going to keep this up. I was getting depserate and I still had something like 4 hours to go. So I fired up the gamecube to try and get distracted. Legend of Zelda usually keeps me pretty occupied, so I give that a shot. And it works. Sort of. It does take my mind off of my bladder, but it doesn’t stop me from bouncing my legs and shifting around almost the whole time I’m playing.

Next thing I know it’s 7:15, and I’m being called downstairs for dinner. Or rather, to help get dinner on the table. When I stood up, the new fullness in my bladder hit me hard. I couldn’t believe how full it was. I had to bend over and squirm for a minute before I could go down there. At this point, I was worried.. I really didn’t know how I was going to hide it while I was down there with everyone else..

Downstairs helping get the food ready, it was difficult to stay stood up straight, and stay still, and don’t pee. Hold it, hold it, hold it. After a few agonizing minutes on my feet, I finally got to sit down again. But the struggle wasn’t over yet. Did I mention we have a glass table? Which means no cover for me. So I spend the next 45 minutes sitting there, surrounded by family, doing everything I can not to fidget and squirm with 33 hours of pee trying to burst out, all the while adding to it by drinking the glass I had been instructed to have, every drink feeling like a whole glass being poured into my bladder, all while trying to stay in conversation and seem like a normal person who hadn’t been holding their pee for over a day.

Finally, dinner was over. But this didn’t mean relief. No, instead it meant that it was time for me to help clean up. Which was absolute torture. It was just like getting ready for dinner all over again, but this time with the added torture of the water I drank with dinner gradually filtering into my bladder. I rushed to get everything cleaned up as quickly as possible, because my bladder was filling, I was already close to my limit, and it showed no signs of slowing down. As soon as I figured it was acceptable to do so, I retreated to my room once more, this time to make an even bigger spectacle for whatever ghosts were watching, doing a full on pee dance and holding myself, so glad to finally be alone again so I can tend to my ever-fuller bladder.

*Ok, it’s 8:45.. they usually go to bed around 10 or 10:30.. So.. an hour and a half? Can I hold it for an hour and a half? nghhh I don’t knowwww*

“Hey.. that water from dinner is setting in.. I’m getting really desperate now.. please, I really really gotta go ? ”

“Aw, you poor thing.. you must be so desperate by now! But you haven’t leaked yet, have you?”

“Miraculously, I haven’t… but I probably will soon! Please let me go”

“I’m glad to hear you haven’t leaked yet! I think you’re gonna be okay. You’re just gonna have to hold it a little longer, okay? At least until everyone is in bed. Let me know when that happens, then we’ll discuss getting you some relief. No leaks! good luck ? ”

*aghh nghh fuck.. I don’t think I can do this *

9:00- At this point, my bladder was so full, I was constantly putting forth effort just to keep the pee from spurting out, squirming, grabbing myself, I couldn’t even think straight. I thought about reading, but I couldn’t possibly concentrate on it, being so desperate. I thought about trying to play LoZ again, but I felt the need to hold myself about 1/3 of the time, and I knew I was gonna need to hold myself as much as possible if I was going to make it for another hour or more. I finally settled on getting on youtube to try and pass the time. So there I sat for the next 30 minutes, holding myself, squirming, fidgeting, and doing everything I possibly can to alleviate the urge even just a little bit. Then my phone buzzed.

“Oh, and that last glass of water you were supposed to bring to your room after dinner? I want that finished before you text me again ? ”

FUCK

I really wished she would have just forgotten about that glass.. just like I had… Dammit. Now I had to go back downstairs and get that glass.

I stood up and gave the pee dance everything I had for a minute, just to try and get it all out of my system for the 2 minutes it would take to go down and get that glass. I took everything I had to stand up straight, keep my legs still, and go downstairs. I had to keep my composure solid as I walked through the living room to the kitchen (where I was still in view). I started pouring the water. I really thought that was going to break me. My breathing all but stopped while the water was flowing, and the stress that seeing it put on my bladder caused me to leak just one tiny little spurt.

*Shit shit shit! I’m leaking, standing 30 feet from my parents! *

I made a beeline back to my room, luckily without any more incidents. This was getting out of hand, I was so desperate. Once in private again, I did a full on pee dance.

After I had managed to calm my bladder down just a little (LITTLE) bit, I went back to watching youtube, this time with more squirming than last time, and a constant grip on myself, just to make sure there were no leaks.

*9:45… okay, just keep holding it, you can do it.. just don’t pee.. hold it, hold it, hold it*

*10:00.. okay, 1/3 of my glass is gone, so that’s good, and hopefully it won’t be too long until everyone’s in bed.. *

At about 10:10, I had to stand up and pace around the room, doing a pee dance and squirming and holding myself, I just needed to move around to take the edge off. 10:20 I sit down again.

*10:25 gotta pee gotta pee gotta pee aghh fuck I’m so desperate I have to pee NOW nghh…

Wait… no, they can’t.. are they watching a movie?? fuck I’m gonna piss myself *

*10:30 shit, I have to drink that water too nghhhh *

At this point, I finished off another 1/3 of my glass, and my bladder revolted. It cramped and squeezed and forced another spurt out before I could even reach down to stop it.

*10:40 Dammit! when are they gonna go to bed! I’m pissing myself over here! *

At 10:45 I finally heard them turn off the tv and start heading to bed. Meanwhile, I’m pacing around my room, bent over, squirming all over the place, holding myself with two hands, doing everything I can to hold onto just under 36 hours of boiling piss that’s just ready to explode.

With great effort, I pull one hand away to text her.

“Okay, they’re going to bed now, and I’m holding with two hands just to not piss myself! Please, I need to pee, now!”

10:50, I heard them close their door. Now I had the freedom to move about the house, as long as I was quiet, but that didn���t help me much, because I still didn’t have permission to pee!

*aghh fuck, the water *

So I finished my glass of water. This time I drank with one hand and held myself tightly with the other, and fortunately I was able to prevent any leaks, but not for a lack of trying on my bladder’s part. I was fit to burst, any moment now.

10:55: “Aw, someone really really needs a potty break now, huh? You poor thing.. but you can hold a little more for me, can’t you? You can ? ”

“No, I really can’t, I’m about to burst, please let me go!”

“Hmm I guess we’ll just see about that… Go downstairs bathroom and get on skype with me”

11:00- We started the skype call. These never end well for me..

H: aw, look at you, so desperate, squirming around.. you really need to go, don’t you?

M: Yes, I really do, please let me go

-At this point, I’m holding myself, my knees pressed tight together, bobbing up and down, breathing heavily

H: mmm not yet, I’m just starting to have fun. You can hold it for me a little longer, can’t you? 5 minutes?

M: i..I’m sorry, but n.no, I don’t think I can hold it another minute..

H: What’s that? Are you telling me no?

M: Agh.. i..I’m sorry, I mean.. Y..Yes ma'am, I’ll hold as l.long as you say..

-Trembling at this point, leaks threatening to burst through my fingers

H: That’s more like it ? Now, let’s try taking those hands away..

M: I ccan’t.. please.. I’ll pee..I..

H: Do it.

M: Y..yes ma'am..

-As soon as I release my grip, a large spurt bursts out, and I have to squirm and dance like crazy just to reduce it to a light drip

H: Stop that!

M: I’m t..trying

-I barely manage to gasp out. I’m so desperate I can barely breathe. With 36 hours of hot piss in my bladder, some of it keeps dribbling out, and all the squirming and dancing I can do can’t stop it

And that’s when I feel it.. that last drink I took from my glass of water.. It was choosing this moment to enter my bladder, and that was it. That was all I could take. I felt my already watermelon-sized bladder expand a bit more for just a second, I felt fuller than I had previously thought possible, and then the leaky dam burst. The dribble turned into spurts, into a stream, into a torrent, and next thing I know, I’m soaking from the waist down, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. After 36 hours, my bladder finally won.

H: Aw, you’re having an accident? You really did have to go didn’t you? tsk tsk.. It looks like you’re going to need some more practice controlling your bladder…

Via Kenn on Omorashi.org