#show you how the world functions and their place in it

[reikiajakoiranruohoja]

Murder Drones character headcanons

WARNING: Mentions of domestic slavery, gore and cannibalism. Please take care.

Uzi Doorman

Despite her anime loving emo teen persona, Uzi grew up in a colony of miners. Things like workers rights and unions are instilled into her concept of morality. As is the dislike towards 'bosses', whether human or drone.

Through the events of the show, Uzi is frightened to realise she is not as opposed to killing as she thought she was. Especially how easily she took to hunting.

Has a dominance kink she tries to deny.

Being born a free drone on a planet far from Earth, Uzi only knows what remnants of human literature and media were left behind. She has no idea what Shakespeare is or what the heck a hare is.

Hot Topic, for Uzi, is more of an ideal than a place. In a colony stuck under a siege, Uzi had to find something to stand out. Old videos of Hot Topic were her escape.

For as much as her outcast status was due to her alternative style, Uzi's nature as a rather feral Solver Drone played a part as well. Even before it fully woke up, Uzi was always on edge and snapping at others.

Because the Solver was something she was born with, there isn't really a way for Uzi to turn 'off' her more feral parts. They have always been with her and she can't really see herself without them.

-Why Uzi (and Nori's) Solver is so feral, no one knows. It is likely the Solver accidentally inserted some animal coding into Nori.

Serial Designation N

Has a frighteningly strong bite. If your typical DD is a garbage disposal, N is a modded blender. He can and has taken out WD limbs with one bite. This also means N can eat pretty much any part of a WD with zero problems.

-Unlike V and J, N the Disassembly Drone and N the Worker Drone are two different people. N the WD liked dogs, but like a human would. He had no canine traits other than being loyal. Thanks to the memory wipes and all of his current memories being from his DD days, N the Disassembly Drone is a canine-based creature with traits from livestock guardian breeds and wolves.

-Because of the above, N can often come across as goofy and dopey, because he reacts to things instinctually first. Give him time to think, however, and he shows he is smarter than he intially seems.

A light sleeper who often checks on his squadmates while they are resting. He has to rest where he has the best view in case anyone sneaks up on his squad.

When the squad functioned ideally, N served as the peacemaker and territory guard. He was never the best hunter or much of a leader, instead N often kept the peace and made sure the territory was kept safe and clean.

Even though N is the most animalistic, he is also the one often making sure his squad is on its best behaviour. This means he will insist on 'please' and 'thank you' from V and Uzi.

The above stems from the remnants of the old N being a butler/bartender. Good manners were instilled into him deep.

Serial Designation V

Prior to meeting Uzi, V lived in a fantasy world. She was aware of reality, but due to the burden placed on her by the Absolute Solver, it was easier for V to play a part in a fantasy than deal with reality.

-V grew to love mutilating workers, mostly to get her frustrations out somehow.

-For all her violence and cruelty, V really just wants peace and quiet.

Still has trouble dealing with N as he is now, missing the worker version of him. V has accepted that the worker she loved is dead, but seeing parts of the old N in the current one still hurts.

-Suffers from severe PTSD triggers regarding anything to do with surgery.

-Has a lot of internalized ableism towards her bad eyesight and refuses to wear glasses unless she absolutely needs to.

Because the animal models installed into her are all feline based, V tends to unconciously act like a cat. Unlike J, she has accepted that part of herself. Mostly.

-The animal models are not of big cats, but of housecats and small wildcats.

Serial Designation J

J hates her current state and fights as hard against her instincts as she can.

Her animal models are vulpine, as a direct insult from the Solver. After all, foxes are known as liars and double-faced.

J was envious of humanity, wanting to emulate them as much as possible. Part of this was because humanity could not be thrown out (as far as she knew) and the other was just feeling more kinship with humans than her fellow drones.

Her corporate speak was her (vain) effort to convince humans that she was 'better' than her fellow Workers.

As part of her refusal to be an animal, J rarely relies on her claws, fangs or tail. She prefers swords or guns, anything that is a man made weapon.

Because of the above, J often forgets about her tail and it can at times just droop on the ground if she isn't actively thinking about it.

-Like V, J deals with a lot of PTSD triggers from the surgeries the Solver performed on her. This is one of the reasons she avoids her animalistic side.

Has zero hope for the future, only going through the motions.

-Hates N for being so animalistic, for being allowed to forget and that the Solver favours him. This often manifests in abusive language and inventing reasons to punish him. Despite this hatred, J does not actually want to see N truly die. As he is still under her protection.

Though she fails at it, J tries to be a good leader who cares for her teammates. If she got over her issues, she could be an effective one.

[ruvviks]

// oc deep dive.

tagged by; @aztarion and @devilbrakers, thank you so much!!

tagging; @mojaves, @deadrlngers, @ordinarymaine, @claudiawolf, @adelaidedrubman and YOU!

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Nathan has a lot of fears stemming from his paranoia. Tangible ones such as getting captured or killed by MOBIUS, his friends walking away from him, or someone following him home; as well as more unrealistic ones, such as somehow ending up back in STEM, or getting stuck in a time loop, or a giant sinkhole all the way to the core of the earth opening up right at his feet.

It also happens often enough that certain actions don’t necessarily scare him, but make him uncomfortable or highly on edge (often with good reason); think of someone locking the door of the room he’s in– especially when it’s just them two– or getting too close without warning. He often fears people he gets too close to will end up treating him like the Administrator did, which is why it takes a while for him to let Sebastian get any closer physically, despite warming up to him relatively fast.

A more uncommon fear he has is waking up one morning and having lost one of his senses or his ability to speak. Aside from the mental erosion that had become a growing issue among Union citizens, MOBIUS observed a similar kind of process in its agents who regularly jumped in and out of STEM for general maintenance and the like– presumably caused by the constant changes in brain activity, which more than often led to exactly what Nathan’s fear mentioned above describes. While he was among the agents who worked both in and outside of STEM on the Union environment, he was lucky enough to never suffer the consequences.

Lastly, he is deadly afraid of Anima. Despite not having shown any other symptom of succumbing to the STEM domination process, Nathan would have started seeing her around sometime before Lily vanished– presumably got her attention after some of his escapades in the secret labs in the Marrow– and he has not been able to sleep soundly in STEM ever since. While his fear of her mostly acts up when he’s in a STEM environment, it definitely translates over to the real world as well; during bad mental health episodes he has auditory hallucinations of her, and she makes regular appearances in his nightmares too.

Do they have any pet peeves?

When people are too passive. Nathan can’t stand it when he’s expected to initiate everything, from conversations to taking action, both in a work context (scheduling meetings, deploying new code) as well as personal context (scheduling to hang out, doing household chores). He also doesn’t like having to constantly ask people to do what they’re supposed to do– though this irritation more than often extends a little too far, to things he is expecting of people but never told them about.

Loud and unexpected noises, especially when done on purpose. Fireworks would be a great example of this, and they piss Nathan off no end. He gets snippy when people raise their voice at him for no reason, or when they keep banging their fist on a surface to get others’ attention.

Getting cut off in traffic. Nathan’s road rage is easily awakened and he can get a little drastic with it. His reflexes are fast enough to brake on time to avoid ending up in someone’s trunk, but will in that same breath speed right back up to crash into them on purpose as revenge for pissing him off.

What are three items you can find in their bedroom?

A large ring binder full of old code snippets, notes from various projects he worked on back at MOBIUS, and all his research ranging from neuroscience all the way to electrical engineering. Nathan is a little old-school in that regard– he’d much rather have all his research physically with him than save it all to some online storage platform and risk losing it like that.

A jigsaw puzzle, made entirely out of different pieces that he’s collected over the years (stolen from others’ puzzles, found in various locations, stolen directly from the store, etc). The full piece would total up to nearly 2000 pieces, though it is still missing a large chunk in the center; the result is an abstract piece containing mostly darker colors, though with various bursts of color scattered around like flowers in a field. Nathan isn’t the artistic type, but the project keeps him busy and he considers it a type of self-expression.

The knife he killed his parents with when he was sixteen years old. He’s not entirely sure why he kept it all those years– perhaps to remind himself what got him to where he is now, or because it’s the only thing he still has from that time of his life. Either way, it’s kept safe in the top drawer of his nightstand, easy enough to reach in case someone breaks into his apartment.

What do they notice first in a person?

First: State of mind, overall mood. How approachable do they look; can he afford to lower his guard or does he need to tread with caution, can he get close without worrying about a knife to the stomach or should he keep his distance? Nathan rarely shows immediate interest in someone’s overall personality, he would rather want to know which of their emotions he’s gonna have to deal with during their interaction(s).

Second: Body language. Ties in with the first thing mentioned– cautiously watching for threats, waiting to see if they make a move to touch (or harm) him so he can step out of their range. But it also extends a little further; Nathan tends to mimic others’ body language in conversation to make himself appear more approachable. If someone gestures a lot, he will do the same.

Third: Their smile, if relevant. Smiling is an eye-catching action to him, since he’s not one to quickly do so himself. It’s attractive to him; if someone smiles at him, you’ll be able to catch him staring.

Fourth: Scars, and other (skin) details. Nathan isn’t one to ask about them, of course– but they’ll catch his attention anyway, for a brief moment, since some of them already tell a story on their own even without words.

Fifth: Nervous tics, if relevant. By this point he’s been in conversation long enough to pick up on the little details– a slight thrill or shakiness to their voice, a thumb running over the side of their index finger, a nose twitch. In some cases it eases his mind, knowing the other person isn’t confident in their conversation either; in other cases it sets off alarms in his mind, and makes him wonder if there’s more going on than what they’re showing or telling him.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Physically: 7. While he doesn’t quite look like it, Nathan can take a hit or two. Most of his injuries happen in STEM– though with the way the technology works, the pain is very much real, and in some cases the scars are lasting even in the real world despite the damage having been sustained in STEM. To an extent, Nathan even enjoys the pain; it’s grounding for him, and keeps him from dissociating. When it gets too much to handle he simply drinks it away.

Mentally: 10. Nathan’s life has been a constant downward spiral; sent to a youth detention center after being wrongfully accused of killing his younger sister, and he was bullied relentlessly there, which continued until long after his release both at school and at home. At MOBIUS, he was required to work shifts in their HQ as well as in the Marrow, in the Union STEM environment– he was required to be mentally strong, or he would have already started suffering from mental erosion by long-term STEM exposure after his first few trips in. It takes a lot to break him (or so he likes to believe).

Emotionally: 4. Once you get past all the barriers, Nathan is pretty sensitive. He doesn’t deal well with rejection or misunderstanding, and is prone to assuming things are all his fault the second something goes wrong. It’s easy to upset him, though he won’t easily show; but the damage often takes a while to repair.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? (Or freeze or fawn?)

Fight, more than often; though it may appear as flight at first, since Nathan’s favored combat approach is stealth and he will always find cover before doing anything rash. In certain cases, however, he would be more likely to freeze; especially anything related to Anima or an enemy type like her, where fighting is out of the question, and he knows that a single wrong move can mean his demise.

It translates to non-combat situations too– often willing to talk to people but his initial response is to get defensive and close himself off, and if not given a moment to regain himself it can lead to either fighting or freezing; biting back with similar ferocity or shutting down altogether, unable to pick up his rational train of thought in the heat of the moment.

It really depends on the type of confrontation, though; taking his own state of mind and who else is involved into consideration. He’s known to fawn when a situation starts feeling a little too familiar– generally surrounding the abuse he suffered from partially his parents, but mostly the Administrator.

What animal represents them best?

Wolf; bordering on dog motif, but cautiously so, requiring infinite patience and understanding to win his trust. Nathan is loyal and guarding to those he cares about, but he values his freedom– his choices and decisions are his and his alone, and anyone who tries to take that away from him will suffer the necessary consequences.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Curious, above anything else. Distant, reserved; surprisingly well-spoken, almost technical in his interactions with others as if the whole conversation is pre-programmed in his mind. Nathan isn’t necessarily cold towards others, but people would also not be quick to describe him as kind; though there is a certain warmth to the way he speaks and looks at people, despite the fact he very rarely smiles and isn’t one to quickly compliment someone else.

Appearance-wise, people tend to notice the white strands in his black hair first. They’re clustered at the front of his head, and match with the white hairs in his left eyebrow and the white eyelashes in the outer corner of his left eye. Nathan has very pale and rough skin, patchy but dark facial hair covering up most of his acne (/scarring); and part of the skin around his left eyebrow is lacking pigment, though it’s a little hard to see. He has very pale and bright blue eyes, which can be a little unnerving when staring at them for too long. Many people cannot maintain eye contact with him for very long.

Do they have any hobbies?

Nathan’s career is directly intertwined with his hobbies, and he enjoys working on code even long after cutting ties with MOBIUS. Software development, application optimization– his laptop runs on an operating system that he coded entirely himself, and whenever he has some time to spare he can be found tweaking and optimizing it and adding new features.

To no one’s surprise, he’s a gamer. Shooters, roguelikes, survival horror– he does not play all too often as his schedule often doesn’t allow for it, but he generally doesn’t have a hard time playing on higher difficulties and enjoys the challenge. Nathan has tried his hand at game design and development too, but stopped quickly when he found it too similar to developing the Union environment in STEM.

And last, surprisingly, would be writing. Journaling, some sort of attempt at poetry, or articles he would want to send in to some website or appropriate magazine but never does– a lot of Nathan’s writing is for his eyes alone, but it helps as an outlet, it keeps him grounded. For a while after leaving MOBIUS, he worked on writing tech manuals for various employers to earn some extra cash, which also ties directly into his interests.

[amtrak12]

The idea that a god-like character with (supposedly) unlimited powers should snap their fingers at the end of a TV series and remove all pain and terrible things in the world so humans no longer had any suffering is the most BAFFLING thing I have ever heard. WHY DID THE SHOW EVER EXIST IF FIXING THINGS WAS THAT EASY??????

[inbabylontheywept]

i once accidentally dated someone for a few months. its very difficult to explain how this happened, but the gist is that i thought we were hanging out, and she thought we were on dates, and it was just a very painfully highschool thing.

she was a little bit confused that i hadnt tried to pull any moves, at all, even a little. like, didnt even try holding hands because, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating.

so, halloween rolled around, and she thought, you know, why wait for destiny, when you can grab it? so she hit me with a clue by four.

babylon, she said. babylon. my mom's gonna be out of town on halloween, and im gonna have the house to myself, and it's going to be kind of lonely. would you like to come to my house and watch scary movies with me?

you know, kind of a netflix and chill thing. except, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating. also autism. so i took it at face value and said: oh! yeah! thatd be fun! and she thought she got her point across, but she didnt and it was a mess.

skip forward to halloween: my family has a block party every year, right? and at that point i was too old to really trick or treat, but we still wore costumes for our role in the block party, which in my case, was handing out cotton candy. so i took the first shift, and my costume was this homemade abomination minion thing. i had full yellow body paint, and goggles, and a bald cap, and overalls. the kids who saw it were like, uh, hm. overly realistic minion. and adults were like, oh, some kind of hills have eyes hillbilly with jaundice. very scary.

(it was not my best costume.)

my little brother swapped me out for second shift, and i was getting ready to change out to head to her house when i was like: no, she'll get a real kick out of this. this is one of the worst things i have ever worn. so i kept it on and just brought a change of clothes thinking i could shower real quick and change at her place after she saw my nightmare getup.

so i left after that, got there, knocked on her door, and she said come on in. so i went in, and there was this very long hall with an abrupt right turn into her living room where the tv was, and i went down the hall, and i made the turn, and my field of view went from beige drywal to her, on the couch, naked. naked in the paint me like one of your french girls pose. super naked.

i panicked. this was my first time seeing a real person like, full on sex naked,which is a totally different beast from other kinds of naked. you see one kind of naked and you think yeah, im ready for all the kinds of naked, but you arent. i wasnt at least. i really wasn't.

so my brain crashed to BIOS. she also crashed to BIOS, but for different reasons. of all the ways this could have turned me, having me show up in yellow body paint and overalls was pretty pretty low down the list.

so we sat there a while, and you know, she wasn't getting any less naked, which really wasn't helping me get my brain sorted out. it really wasnt much of a surprise when she got her bearings first and started asking questions.

"babylon," she said. "babylon. what are you wearing?"

and i was like, kind of rebooted, but i was nowhere near full functionality, so symbolic language wasnt loaded in yet. i had nothing running but my trusty autism.exe, so i said

"overalls"

and she looked at me like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked at her like she was the first naked person i had seen in real life who got naked specifically for me, and my upper level cognitive process went: "listen man, we are not going to get our shit together as long as 80% of your brain power is devoted to not blinking. you gotta get out of here."

and if id communicated that, maybe things would have been less of a mess, but instead i just kind of turned around and walked back to my car. i figured i could drive a few loops around the block, get my brain in order, and figure out what the hell we were gonna do.

the only thing i had said to her since arriving was, again, overalls.

first loop around, i was like: oh god fucking damnit. oh shit. oh shit. shes gonna get like, an eating disorder from this. oh no.

second loop around i was like: oh NOOOOO oh WHAT THE FUCK oh SWEET JESUS PLEASE. i dont wanna go back man. i just wanna bury this and forget about it. please. please. let this bitter cup pass from my lips.

and after my third loop, i went and i knocked on her door again.

she answered it this time, and i counted my lucky stars that she'd changed into some pajamas. she was all teary eyed which was the saddest thing ever, and we sat down in her kitchen and talked. it was pretty bad - i figured out we'd been dating, and she figured out that trying to jump from home plate to 3rd base is considered ballsy in baseball, least of all dating. no real winners there. and i can remember after all that, we sat there a bit a bit longer, just steadying ourselves, and i was like "well, im actually really glad we figured that out. guess i'll see you at school tomorow' and she said "WAIT. wait."

"lets watch shrek 2."

so we did and it was horrible. we did not look at each other. we did not say a word. we just sat in stony silence, while shrek 2 played in the background, and when it was done we shook hands. i think we might have been able to salvage that as a friendship if it hadnt been for shrek. as it was she turned white as a sheet and ran away every time she even got a glimpse of me at school, and that summer she moved to a new state to live with her dad. all her friends said she moved just so she wouldn't have to go to school with me anymore, and i dont actually think they were lying.

every time i hear relationship counselors talk about how important communication is, and i'm tempted to roll my eyes, i look back and go, alright. alright. theres probably some poor bastard, somewhere in the world, who doesnt even know that hes married.

and god help him when he figures it out.

other bad dating story here.

[7-ratsinatrenchcoat]

man. in a better world where meliodas kept the boar hat, the wheat allegory would scalp and skin me

i do enjoy "living weapon" characters but specifically living weapons who did in fact do absolutely horrific things which at least a part of them enjoyed and thought was good and right at the time, and that no amount of not knowing any better or guilt they feel in hindsight will ever make up for. i love living weapons who are "irredeemable", and no it's not their fault that they were made that way or pointed in the directions they were by the hand that wielded them, and yes they are victims, but so were their victims. living weapons who some people will never be able to forgive, but who still wake up every day and try to do better than what's expected of them. a sword that uses its blade to cut wheat to make bread for the people who once lived in fear of its arc falling on their heads.

[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: Where you “unfortunately” caught your best friend's roomate—your unsaid enemy—masturbating in their shared apartment. — WC: 4.6k — WARNINGS: smut, monster cock!seungcheol, explicit language and content, overstimulation, dry fucking, oral as a tongue massage (f. receiving)—a reward <3, body fluids (cum), dry humping, cock riding, dumbfication, degradation, aftercare, exhaustion, and DIRTY TALK.

here’s how it always goes with seungcheol:

you walk into a room, he immediately finds something to scoff at. maybe it’s the way you dress, maybe it’s the way you talk, maybe it’s just the fact that you exist in his general vicinity. but it doesn’t matter what you do—he hates you. or, at the very least, that’s what he insists on showing you.

joshua, your best friend and possibly the only person in the world who can tolerate both of you without losing his mind, always tells you to be the bigger person. “he’s not that bad,” he says, as if seungcheol didn’t practically hiss at you last week for sitting on his side of the couch.

but whatever. you don’t go out of your way to piss him off, and he doesn’t go out of his way to be nice. that’s just the way it is.

which is why you hesitate when joshua calls you:

“i swear, i wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. i left my keys at your place before i flew out, remember?”

“okay, but i literally don’t want to step foot in his apartment,” you stress, cringing at the thought.

“it’s my apartment, too,” joshua deadpans.

you groan, already feeling a headache coming on.

“just go in, grab the folder on my desk, and leave,” he insists. “cheol probably won’t even be home.”

which is how you find yourself standing outside their apartment door, holding joshua’s keys and hyping yourself up like you’re about to enter enemy territory. which, in a way, you are.

you unlock the door, push it open,

and immediately wish you hadn’t.

seungcheol. on the couch. fisting his cock.

your brain short-circuits. like, full shutdown, blue screen, cease all functioning mode.

the man is spread out—legs wide, head tipped back, theres a drop of sweat that drips from his neck aand land in the middle of his chest. hes exposing his toned abs that clench with every up and down of his hand. and his cock is huge. thick from the base to the top and flushed deep red at the tip, veins prominent as his fist works over it.

he’s so lost in it that he doesn’t even register your presence at first, not until he finally cracks his eyes open and sees you standing there, frozen stunned into silence.

the next few seconds happen in slow motion.

his eyes widen. his entire body stiffens. his hand stops.

“WHAT THE FUCK—”

seungcheol scrambles to cover himself, reaching for the nearest thing—which, unfortunately for him, is a shirt that does nothing to hide the absolute tent he’s pitching. his face goes red, splotchy from the neck up, and he looks so flustered that for a split second, you almost feel bad.

“why the fuck are you here?!” he practically barks at you, voice ragged from whatever the fuck he was doing before you ruined his life.

you blink, still processing the image that’s now burned into your brain for eternity. “uh. joshua?”

“what about joshua?!”

“he… he needed a document.”

seungcheol lets out a sound that is so frustrated, so exasperated, that it almost doesn’t register as human. “and you didn’t think to knock?!”

“why would i knock?! i didn’t think anyone would be jerking off in the living room like a fucking pervert—”

“IT’S MY APARTMENT.”

“IT’S JOSHUA’S TOO.”

“HE’S NOT HERE.”

“WELL, NEITHER AM I, NOW.” you turn on your heel, hand reaching for the doorknob. “i’ll just get the doc later—”

but before you can escape, he rasps, “don’t you dare tell joshua about this.”

you pause. smirk. oh, this is fun.

back still facing him, fingers still wrapped around the doorknob. you should leave. should pretend none of this ever happened. but something—some sick, wrong part of you—doesn’t want to.

so you turn. lean back against the door. cross your arms.

“what?” he snaps, shifting on the couch, the shirt still pitifully draped over his lap.

you tilt your head, dragging your gaze slowly down his body—his hard nipples, the taut muscles in his arms, the way his thighs tense like he’s fighting the urge to close them. you can see the way he twitches under the shirt.

“you’re still hard,” you note, your voice syrupy sweet, but your eyes gleam meanly.

seungcheol tenses. “so?”

“so… you’re mad at me for walking in,” you say, cocking a brow, “but you’re still hard as fuck.”

he grits his teeth, but his silence is loud as hell.

so you take a step forward. just one.

his breath hitches.

“cheol.” you coo at him. “you sure you hate me?”

he glares, but it’s weaker now, faltering under your scrutiny. you can see it—the slight tremor in his fingers, the way his pulse jumps in his throat, the way he’s not telling you to stop.

so you take another step.

and another.

until you’re standing right in front of him, the shirt the only barrier between his cock and your eyes.

his jaw tightens. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” you murmur, reaching forward to trace your fingers over his wrist—the one that was just wrapped around his cock. “don’t call you out? don’t get closer? don’t—”

in a flash, he grabs your wrist, yanking you down.

you gasp as you land on his lap, his hands firm on your hips, his cock pressing against your ass through the thin barrier of the shirt and your clothes.

his lips are right by your ear when he growls, “don’t fucking test me.”

you shiver, but you’re not scared, you’re thrilled.

so you shift, pressing back against him, and smirk when he lets out a sharp breath through his nose.

“or what?” you whisper.

his grip tightens. “you really wanna find out?”

your fingers curl into his hair, tugging just enough to make him hiss.

“yeah,” you breathe, lips brushing his jaw. “i do.”

he snaps.

the shirt under you is gone.

his mouth crashes into yours, hot and angry, his hands gripping your waist like he’s trying to burn the shape of you into his palms. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, his tongue prying your mouth open, swallowing the gasp you let out when his fingers dig into your hips.

you grind down, moaning into his mouth when you feel just how fucking thick he is, leaking against your skirt. 

his hands are rough when he yanks your skirt up, bunching the fabric around your waist with no intention of letting it fall back down. you barely have a second to breathe before his fingers push past your thighs, finding the front of your panties hooking his thumb into the damp fabric and pulling it to the side.

the rush of cold air makes you gasp, thighs trying to snap shut, but his thighs pins them open. and maybe, he has a shred of decency in him, because he lets out a low breath and murmurs, “this is gonna be rough.”

no warning. just that.

you should stop him. you should tell him to go slow, to prep you, to at least spit on it—but you don’t, you need to feel this big cock stretching you until every single thought inside your head gets completely erased.

there’s no lube, no prep besides the mess between your thighs, just the torturous process of sinking down.

seungcheol watches all of it. watches the way your lips part, how your lashes flutter, how your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders the lower you go. he’s leaning back against the couch, one hand gripping the plush of your ass, the other wrapped around his base, guiding you onto him like you’re something delicate. like he’s trying to help.

but he’s not.

because he knows what he’s doing when he taps his cockhead against your clit first, dragging the tip through your slick, coaxing out little whimpers that make him smirk. he knows what he’s doing when he presses up, just the tip slipping inside, barely enough to be satisfying but more than enough to make your thighs twitch.

your breath catches in your throat, your whole body twitching up as you take the next inch too fast. your brain is empty, your body is working on instinct, thighs shaking as you brace yourself against him, trying—failing—to push down further.

and he sees it. sees how you’re struggling, sees how your muscles twitch like you’re about to give out, sees how you want to take it but your body is fighting the stretch.

so he helps.

his hands clamp down on your waist.

and then he slams you down.

the sound that leaves your throat is so ruined that he cant help but feel a bit of compassion.

because suddenly you’re full. suddenly you’re sitting completely in his lap, completely engulfed in him, your thighs flush against his, his cock buried so fucking deep that you can feel it pressing up against every nerve inside you.

but when you try to move, try to lift yourself even an inch—nothing.

your thighs won’t cooperate. your muscles won’t listen.

you can’t move.

“oh?” seungcheol tilts his head, smug grin curling at his lips as he grinds up, watching the way your mouth falls open at the sensation.

“too big for you, baby?”

you whimper.

“thought so.”

and then he takes control, because you can’t move—so he does it for you. his hands lift you effortlessly, dragging your hips up before slamming you back down, setting the pace, forcing your body to take what it’s given.

and you can’t think straight anymore. every thrust knocks the air from your lungs, every time he slams you down it punches little whimpers from your throat that only make him hungrier.

“awww… thought you were so tough. but you can’t even fuck yourself on my cock, huh?”

you cry out, body giving up, melting against his chest as you desperately try to follow his rhythm, hips twitching with little, pathetic attempts to keep up. your body isn’t even yours anymore—just a toy, something for seungcheol to use, something he’s breaking in with every brutal roll of his hips. 

his fingers dig into your waist, gripping you so tight it hurts, but the pleasure drowns it out. you’re so deep into it, into him, that every ounce of shame has left your body, every shred of dignity gone. because you can’t do anything but take it, can’t do anything but let him use you like you were made for this.

he tilts his head, watching you fall apart, watching how your thighs tremble with every slap of his hips against yours.

“damn,” he laughs, licking his lips, voice mocking. “you’re making such a fucking mess of yourself.”

you whimper, forehead pressing against his collarbone.

and then he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“mm-mm, don’t hide now,” he says, smirking. “be a good girl and let me see that dumb little face while i ruin you.”

a sob rips from your throat, high-pitched and wrecked.

he groans, grinding up into you.

“fuck. bet the neighbors can hear you, huh? joshua’s gonna be so fucking embarrassed when he gets a noise complaint for his dumb little best friend getting dicked down like a whore.”

your whole body jerks, a whimper escaping your lips at the humiliation, the filth dripping from his tongue.

and he sees it.

his grin turns cruel.

“oh, you like that?” he taunts, thrusting up so deep your back arches. “you like knowing that you’re loud enough to make it everyone’s fucking problem? that you’re such a good little fucktoy for me that i can’t even keep you quiet?”

you nod, because you can’t lie. his fingers tighten around your jaw, his lips brushing against yours as he coos.

“poor little thing.”

he thrusts up again, so hard, so deep that your whole body bounces, hands scrambling against his chest, voice cracking in a choked-out sob.

and he moans, deep and satisfied, because you’re so fucking perfect for him. because your body is his to use, to mold, to ruin.

“joshua’s gonna kill me c-cheol.”

his hips snap up again, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“but you’ll tell him it was worth it, won’t you, baby?”

he smooths one over your back, pressing down so your tits rub against his burning skin, while the other stays firm on your hip, keeping you still. your body jerks with every pulse of his cock inside you, twitching as you flutter around him, so overstimulated you can’t tell where the pleasure starts or ends.

“s-seungcheol—” his name is nothing but a broken cry, muffled against his neck, but he’s relentless. he doesn’t even let you finish, just shifts his knees slightly and thrusts up into you with all the power in his core.

“fuck,” he hisses when you clamp down, crying out into his skin, and he wraps an arm fully around you to hold you up. “shh, baby, you’re being so loud.”

his hand snakes up your back, fingers tangling into your hair, forcing you to lift your head. you meet his gaze, and it knocks the breath from your lungs. he looks fucked, mouth parted, sweat dripping from his hairline, chest heaving, but he still manages to look at you like he’s about to devour you whole.

“c’mon,” he coos, tilting his head, his grip tightening just enough to make your scalp tingle. “tell me it was worth it. tell me how good my cock is.”

he punctuates it with a sharp snap of his hips and you keen, trying to lift yourself, trying to relieve some of the intensity, but your thighs betray you. seungcheol laughs, breathless but smug, and his fingers press bruises into your skin as he maneuvers you like you weigh nothing.

“see? can’t even move, huh? my poor baby,” he murmurs, voice syrupy sweet, his free hand cupping your cheek now. “you’re just gonna sit here and take it like the perfect fucktoy you are.”

heat prickles at your skin at the words, your brain too fogged up to be embarrassed, too fucked out to do anything but let him guide you. he rocks you against him, making sure you feel every inch of him dragging against your walls, rubbing at all the right places, pressing into you deeper than you thought was even possible.

“you take me so well, baby,” he praises, leaning in to press his lips against yours, just enough to tease. “so fuckin’ tight, so warm—fucking heaven.”

his hand slides between your bodies, two fingers finding your swollen, neglected clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over it. the sensation makes your thighs twitch, your nails dig into his back, a fresh wave of tears pooling at the corners of your eyes.

“shhh, i got you, baby,” he whispers, kissing your jaw now, your temple. his fingers on your clit work in time with the slow, torturous grind of his hips. “i got you, yeah? you gonna cum for me? hm?”

he kisses you full on the mouth when you sob, swallowing the sound like he wants to keep it forever. and then he speeds up just a little, rolling your clit with more pressure, meeting every rut of your hips with a firm thrust up.

you shatter.

your whole body seizes, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as you clamp down so tight on him that it sends him tumbling over the edge with you. he groans, long and low, holding you so tight against him that you can feel every pulse of his cum inside you, hot and deep. his hips jerk once, twice more before he stills, forehead pressed against yours as you both gasp for air.

it’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds are the distant hum of the city outside the window, and the soft squelch when he finally shifts, making you both moan.

your body trembles like a leaf caught in the wind, and seungcheol drinks it in, the heat of your overstimulated form twitching against his chest as he presses slow, lingering kisses into the curve of your neck. his lips move down, sucking at the pulse point that hammers beneath your skin. your breath stutters. his fingers, nails just barely grazing, trail down the arch of your spine, featherlight but enough to make you shiver. you barely even realize you’re moving, the last bit of strength in your boneless limbs used to weakly push yourself up, to let his cock slip free from where it’s buried inside you. 

the second it leaves you, your body gives out. you collapse right into his chest, heavier than before, spent and trembling, the exhaustion hitting all at once. you can’t even pretend to be embarrassed about it. you just sigh, your lips brushing the base of his throat as you settle against him, body limp.

seungcheol holds you steady with both hands, like he’s afraid you might melt right into the couch and disappear. his broad palm cradles the back of your head, fingers splaying across your scalp, scratching at your roots. he keeps the other hand wrapped around your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly against your ribs. the tension in his body hasn’t left yet. his shoulders are still tight. you know him well enough to know what’s coming before he even says it.

“you good?” 

you hum in response, nuzzling into his chest as your fingers curl weakly against his pecs. “just a little sore.”

he exhales through his nose. shifts beneath you. you can feel his fingers flex where they rest on your waist, like he wants to squeeze but holds himself back. then, with zero effort, he grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, just enough to force you to look at him. your lids are heavy, half-lidded, dazed, and fuck, that shouldn’t make him feel so possessive, but it does.

his thumb sweeps across your cheek, his jaw tensing. “shit. i’m sorry,” he murmurs, eyes scanning over your features like he’s searching for anything more than just exhaustion. “lemme take care of you, hm?”

you don’t have it in you to resist, don’t even want to. you let him move you, let him handle you like you weigh nothing as he lifts you from his lap and shifts you onto the couch, laying you down as if you’re something delicate. and maybe you are, now, after the way he ruined you. maybe that’s why you don’t fight him when he presses your thighs apart, watching as they just fall open on their own, spread wide like a doll.

you don’t have the strength to do much else than whimper softly as his thumbs spread you further, gaze locked onto your swollen cunt, still so slick from where he fucked you. his jaw clenches.

you don’t even get a warning before he moves in, before his hands grip your thighs to keep them open as he dives between them, mouth sealing over your clit in one slow stroke of his tongue.

you jolt, a weak little gasp punching from your lungs. your fingers barely find the energy to tangle into his hair, and the grip is nowhere near as firm as it usually is, but he groans anyway. whether it’s from the feeling of your grip or from the way you instantly react to him, you don’t know. but he doesn’t stop.

his tongue moves slow, warm and so fucking wet as he licks broad, flat strokes over your sensitive flesh, working you open again with patience. he isn’t trying to overstimulate, isn’t trying to get you off again—though you can already tell it wouldn’t take much. his focus is entirely on easing the ache, on massaging every tender inch of you with his mouth, his lips, his tongue.

“feels good?” his voice is muffled against you, but it vibrates in just the right way.

you nod, breath hitching when he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue rolling it in slow circles. your body twitches, heat curling at the base of your spine. “cheol…”

he moans against you, and presses you down harder against his face. your hips jump, an embarrassing whimper breaking free as his tongue dips lower, tracing around your entrance before dragging back up, collecting every bit of slick along the way.

you whine, fingers curling tighter in his hair. he doesn’t tease. doesn’t prolong it. just keeps his pace slow and steady, gentle enough to soothe, firm enough to keep you on the edge of something, even if you’re too sensitive to chase it. and if the way he’s grinding his hips into the couch tells you anything—it’s that he’s just as affected as you are.

he’s not eating you out to get himself off, but fuck if it isn’t working.

the obscene sounds of his mouth working between your thighs filling the entire apartment, mixing in with your breathless moans and the way he groans right into your cunt. you don’t even have it in you to be embarrassed about the way your cum is smeared all over his chin, his jaw, his cheeks—how it drips down onto the couch below with every intentional roll of his tongue against your entrance.

his tongue works in circles, pressing flat to your hole before dragging up again, tasting every bit of your arousal as it gushes out onto his lips. his mouth is open the entire time, tongue rolling and flicking, nose nudging against your clit as he angles his head lower. he flattens his tongue, groaning as he drags it up through your folds before plunging it into you, so messy that you swear you see white behind your eyelids.

your back arches, chest rising in sharp, hiccupped gasps, every single nerve in your body on flames. your thighs twitch in his grasp, and he squeezes them tighter, keeping you spread open just for him. his hands slide up, one wrapping firmly around your waist, keeping you pinned in place, while the other travels up, up—his fingers finding the stiff peaks of your nipples.

your eyes snap open, a gasp catching in your throat as he rolls one between his fingertips, twisting just enough to make your eyes roll. you swear you hear him chuckle against you, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“breathe,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your clit before sucking it between his teeth, tongue rolling in lazy, teasing circles on the swollen bud. “breathe for me, baby.”

you try. you really do. but the way his mouth moves, the way his fingers tweak and pull, it’s too much. you’re spiraling. you feel another orgasm creeping up so fast it steals the air right out of your lungs.

he sees it. he knows.

his grip tightens on your thigh, his tongue flicking faster, working you open as his free hand continues to play with your tits, kneading the soft flesh, fingers rolling your nipples in rhythm with the lazy grind of his tongue against your clit.

your moans turn high-pitched, desperate. your body twists beneath him, unable to keep still as the pleasure builds, climbing higher and higher.

but then—a whimper.

not from you.

from him.

you force your heavy lids open, head lolling to the side as you try to focus on him. and fuck, the sight that greets you is almost enough to make you cum then and there.

seungcheol is rutting against the couch. grinding, fucking humping it like a damn dog, his hips rolling in slow thrusts, his rock-hard cock straining against his stomach, smearing precum all over his abs and the fabric beneath him.

he whimpers again, this time louder, his brows furrowed, his breath coming in short, uneven pants.

“fuck,” he groans, mouth still pressed against you, voice muffled by the way his tongue keeps working you over. he pulls back just enough to speak, his lips glistening, his chin soaked. his eyes are dark, glassy, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you. “can’t—fuck, i can’t stop. you taste too good.”

your chest tightens, a desperate, aching cry slipping from your lips as you clutch at his hair, thighs twitching in his grasp. “cheol—gonna—gonna cum, oh my god—”

he moans, actually fucking moans, his hips grinding down harder against the couch as he redoubles his efforts, tongue circling your clit in precise, teasing flicks, his fingers pinching your nipples just hard enough to send you over the edge.

your body locks up. your back arches. your mouth falls open, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, all-consuming.

seungcheol doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow down. he works you through it like it’s his mission, licking you clean, his tongue rolling over your entrance, collecting every last drop as your body trembles violently beneath him.

your chest heaves, your vision blurring, but even through the haze, you can feel him still grinding against the couch, still so fucking hard and desperate, all because of you.

your brain is slow. dial-up connection slow. everything feels like it’s underwater, your body floating somewhere between consciousness and the best orgasm-induced coma of your life. it’s warm, so warm, like your body is still riding out the fever of your high, tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth, throat dry, muscles heavy like they’re full of sand.

you don’t even remember when it happened—when you blacked out, when you got moved. just flashes of cool wipes dragging over your skin, a damp cloth pressed between your thighs, seungcheol’s hands gentle, careful, murmuring something you were too gone to comprehend. like déjà vu, like something out of a dream.

but you’re awake now. sort of. and you’re in his bed.

the sheets are soft, cool against your fevered skin, and it feels so good that you can’t help the tired, pleased moan that slips past your lips, involuntary, barely conscious.

but it’s enough to make him look at you.

you blink, vision still a little hazy, but yeah, that’s definitely seungcheol, sitting at his desk, dressed in a loose shirt and sweats, hair damp, probably from a shower. there’s a slight smirk on his lips, but his eyes are soft as they sweep over you, taking in the way you’re still half-buried in his sheets, limbs heavy, body relaxed.

then it hits you.

the documents.

joshua.

fuck.

your eyes widen, and you jolt up too fast, regretting it immediately when the soreness between your thighs protests, a sharp ache shooting up your spine. “fuck—”

seungcheol’s already up, one hand pressing to your shoulder, guiding you back down before you can do any more damage. “hey, hey, relax. you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“the—documents,” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut again as the exhaustion creeps back in. “joshua.”

he chuckles, and you open your eyes just in time to see him shaking a small stack of papers in his hand. “yeah, yeah. i got it. sent them over while you were passed out.”

you frown, groggy. “i was supposed to send them.”

“and joshua needs to get used to me handling shit for you,” he says, grinning as he sets the papers down. “besides, he’d probably prefer not to get another noise complaint under his name.”

your face heats up instantly. “oh my god.”

“mhmm,” seungcheol hums, tilting his head. “wanna know how loud you were?”

“no.”

he laughs, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, thumb tracing your cheek. “then go back to sleep, baby.”

you glare at him. or, at least, you try to. it’s weak, and he knows it, because all it takes is one more stroke of his thumb before your eyes flutter shut again, body sinking further into his bed.

yeah. you can fight him about the joshua thing later. maybe. probably not.

[5-htagonist]

the boondocks is so good. i dont know what black american archetypal character is missing from that show other than ahhh favorable portrayals of black queerness but 2005 (presumably) cishet man creation so you know how that goes.

[bloggerspam]

Cousins, Clones and Conning the Family

Family Reunion AU, where cousins Maddie and Clark try to smuggle their clone children into the family reunion that happens every 5 years and pretend they've been there the whole time.

Spoiler alert, one of them does significantly better than the other. Mainly Kid POV, and also on AO3! Multichapter. ===

The problem with big family reunions, Danny thinks, is how utterly fucking lost Danny is all the gosh dang time.

"Well now, you're Maddie's son now ain'tcha? How old is you now?" The woman standing before him guffaws, ruffling his hair. He lets it, trying desperately to remember the speadsheet Jazz created for the family and (obviously) failing to recall this woman's name.

Agatha? Selene? Riri? No, Aunt Riri is over there—

"Yes ma'am," Danny smiles up at the unnamed aunt, accent going a little twangy like it always does at these functions, "I'll be hittin' 17 in a coupl'a months or so."

"My, my, you youngin's sure grow like weeds!" The aunt coos, gesturing to a height by her hip, "You used to be this tall last time I saw ya, betcha don't r'member me now do ya?"

It's a trap. If he says he doesn't remember, which is expected at reunions such as these that happen every 5 years or longer, she'll start going on and on about the stories she has of the family. Danny would have to stand here and demure and laugh at these cousins he doesn't really remember too well, but know enough to know that she's gotten them all mixed up.

"Pshaw," Danny doesn't react when a whisper breathes the answer into his ear, "I'd never forget a pretty lady like you, Aunt Helena!"

It works like a charm.

The second he's out of her clutches, he feels around for a cold spot. There, trailing just behind him, is Ellie. She's not invisible anymore, so he tucks her under his arm and bee-lines it towards the metaphorical kid's table.

"Thanks, Ellie. Weren't you supposed to stay with Dad?" Danny leads them around, trying to avoid any other mishaps. "Did Jazz send you?"

"She made me flashcards!" Ellie smirks up at him, ignoring his other question and pulling a corner of an index card out from the palm of her hand. She's always been better than him at manipulating the ecto in her body, for obvious reasons. Danny's not bitter about it at all.

"Damn, all I got was a presentation." Danny grumbles. Jazz and Dad somehow know every single one of their family members, which is ludicrous when even Mom doesn't know despite it being her side of the family.

He still can't really believe how big his family actually is, but he supposes that's natural. He only sees them once every couple of years, the only relative they see even on a remotely regular basis is Aunt Alicia, who has no kids and refuses (rightfully so) to remarry.

Danny's fine with that, he gets the best of both worlds after all. Cozy holiday stays with Aunt Alicia and he has places to stay all over the country if he really needs it, no questions asked.

Plus, crazy as they can be, these reunions have always felt like a big country festival for Danny.

"She likes me better." Ellie snickers, tugging him back to avoid Uncle Charlie's drunken stumbling.

"Everyone likes you better," Danny rolls his eyes, pushing Ellie's head down and ducking to avoid a stray kid's toy flying overhead, "I like you better."

As if somehow knowing Danny's being self deprecating again, Jazz shows up to smack him on the head. "I like both of you equally in special ways."

Danny makes a disgruntled noise, grumbling as he rubs his head, "Mooooom, Jazz is therapizing me again!"

Even though he was only half joking, Mom does show up specifically to laugh at him. "Honey, your father and I love all our children equally!"

"It's a secret," Dad says from behind Jazz, kids climbing all over him, "But Ellie's the favorite!"

"Jack!" Mom yells at the same time Jazz screams, "Dad!"

Ellie dissolves into giggles, making everyone but Dad helplessly laugh. It's good to see Ellie laugh, she does it a lot but it still doesn't feel like it's enough. Danny picks her up, giggling mess and all, and tosses her at Dad.

She lands, as expected, straight into the pile of children who scream and accept her easily.

"Nice." Jazz chuckles, this time patting him gently on his head in approval. Danny shrugs, dusting his hands off and heading back towards salvation: the food.

He and Jazz mingle a bit, exchanging greetings and school updates with the Aunts and Uncles they occasionally bump into, making their way slowly through and keeping an eye out for the other cousins.

Eventually, Jazz gets nabbed by Cousin Dermot just as Danny reaches the table, tossing a pig-in-a-blanket into his mouth and chewing with glee. The locals of the family usually something potluck style—and though Dad's genes are strong and the Fentons can't cook, the bulk of the Walker family definitely can.

In fact—Great Aunt Martha said she was going to bring some mini pies right?

Danny spies a pile of them in the middle of the large table and reaches for one, only to bump into the spikes of black fingerless gloves.

The gloves are, of course, attached to someone else.

It's a boy, around Danny's age, in a spiked leather jacket (matching the gloves) and white tee shirt with ripped jeans. He's got the tiniest John Lennon sunglasses and piercings everywhere—it makes Danny squint at him, with how much the sun keeps catching on everything—the spikes, the piercings, the metal arms of the sunglasses, is this dude also wearing lipgloss?

Danny's not judging, a guy can appreciate proper hydration to avoid chapped lips or even just for the aesthetic, but it doesn't help with the glare.

"Sorry, my bad." Right, okay, city slicker then. Not that Danny's much of a country boy or anything. "Did my spikes get you?"

Maybe Cousin Jenny brought a plus one? Danny eyes the guys jeans—they look tight. Was Cousin Mark into guys? Is this dude a guy or possibly a masculine girl? Ack. Stupid sun frying his brain.

"It's okay," Danny says, blinking away and tossing mini pie to the other person. "Aunt Martha's pies are worth the minor injury. You comin' in with one of the cousins?"

"Uh, yeah." Citypunk looks at Danny nervously, "I mean, I am one of the cousins." The guy bites his lips, shrugging, "Uh, one of the Kents, actually. Ma's real proud of the pies."

Danny blinks.

"…You're not Jon." Danny says, very carefully and slowly.

"…No…" Stranger Danger draws his vowels out, "I'm Conner. His, uh, older brother? Can't blame ya for being confused though!"

"…You can't." Danny agrees, because out of the two them, Danny definitely isn't to blame for the confusion.

"Yeah, lots of cousins, and all," Curiouser and Curiouser beams at Danny, shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck, "Plus, I know Jon's more sociable at these things."

"Right, he really is rambunctious, that guy." Danny nods, as if that's the problem, and not the fact that Danny knows every single cousin his age. Big as his family might be, Danny's generation came out the smallest. Cousin Jenny and Cousin Mark are the only two his age.

With Ellie and Jazz each being four years younger and older than Danny, and the other cousins being well beyond those ages in gaps, there is no way this guy is a cousin.

"Don't worry," Punk'd laughs self deprecatingly, "I know he's the favorite. even if Mom won't admit it."

Danny feels a vein throb in his right temple.

He's unsure if he should slowly back away or get up in the guy's face. It's just—now that Danny thinks about it, if wedding crashing is a thing, does that mean family reunion crashing is a thing too?

What's the protocol here? Should he fight this guy for having the audacity to use Great Aunt Martha's name in vein?

Wait, no, that's Jesus.

Is Great Aunt Martha Catholic? ...Is that the one with Jesus, or was that Christianity?

Wait, Danny, you knuckle head, Uncle Clark was adopted. Conner could be adopted too! Even though he looks exactly like that Uncle Clark when he was younger…

"Is this your first time at a reunion?" Danny ventures, "We only have 'em—"

"Every 5 years, yeah." Conner huffs, "Nah, I just used to hide with Ma in the kitchens."

Okay, clearly Great Aunt Martha isn't in on this, because Danny used to hide with Great Aunt Martha in the kitchens. Danny's about to lose his shit on this guy—or maybe sic Ellie on him. Whichever is worse.

"Oh yeah? That's must have been cozy." Danny grits out, taking a deep breath so his eyes don't flash.

"Yeah, it was!" Conner beams shyly. though all Danny sees is a smug smirk. "She's real nice-like, I'm sure you know. Real lucky to have her for a Grandma."

"Real lucky." Danny agrees, because Great Aunt Martha really was one of the better Great Aunts. Though most of the Walker Kin were hardy and tough, in that badass kind of way. Mom really liked Great Aunt Martha's lessons on bull wranglin' back when they were younger. "Speakin' of, she ain't here?"

"Nah," Conner makes a sad little pout. "She hadta stop by Auntie Agatha's for an emergency. She left two days ago, so she's runnin' a little behind. Cl—Dad went to go pick her up."

Danny squints at the possible imposter. That sounded like he was going to call Uncle Clark by his name, which makes things confusing for Danny. Guy will call Aunt Lois Mom but he won't call Uncle Clark Dad easily?  Maybe he's a kid Aunt Lois had before marrying Uncle Clark? But Aunt Lois would never hide a kid, and Great Aunt Martha would never let her treat a kid like that. That's not even taking into account that this kid looks way too much like Uncle Clark for it to be a fucking coincidence. Plus, Danny knew about Aunt Aggie's emergency and how she might not be making it to this year's reunion—this gives Conner's story credibility.

But Danny knows that the best way to lie is with truths, even if the truths are confusing.

So what the hell is going on? Is Clockwork fucking with him? Did an alternate timeline get switched with his?

It wouldn't be the first time, but Clockwork at least had the decency to let him know at least.

"What the—" Danny blinks, as Conner picks up a very familiar, eye-searingly green colored post it note that was stuck to the plate under a mini pie. "Is this yours?"

"Yeah," Danny huffs. taking the note and rolling his eyes as lies roll off his tongue, "Sorry, y'know how it goes with Jazz."

"Oh, yeah." And Danny has to give it Conner, he at least rolls with the punches real quick, "I heard about it but didn't ever uh, see it in action."

"Really?" Danny feigns surprise, head pulsing in irritation at the words all is as it should be written in purple pen. There's no mocking smiley face, but Danny feels it in the ink anyway. "Thought she got all the cousins at the last reunion."

Conner chuckles nervously, "Oh, yeah—Guess I'm just, easy to miss you know?"

"Uh huh…" Danny eyes the guy and his piercings and very distinct style, from the tip of his clearly styled hair and needlessly ostentatious big black studded boots. "…Right."

Conner laughs, wincing. "These're new. High school debut."

"…You're a freshman?" Danny tilts his head, squinting.

"Junior." Conner automatically corrects, before stiffening. "…I just wanted to reinvent myself for Junior Prom."

"Right." Danny repeats, drawing out the vowels and finally giving up. He can tell Conner already knows what Danny is going to ask, and is trying to exit this conversation post-haste.

Fortunately for Conner and unfortunately for Danny, Jazz comes barreling in, almost knocking the former out in the process as she grips the latter's biceps tightly with her eyes wide and nervous.

Unfortunately for Conner and fortunately for Danny, though the look in Jazz's eyes thoroughly distracts the latter and gives the former a window to escape, Jazz's hissed out words end up keeping Conner rooted to the floor.

"Baby Jon has powers!" Jazz hisses as she moves Danny away from the possible imposter a couple feet. Even though she says it low enough for only Danny to hear, Conner's wide eyes as he whips his gaze towards them suggests that Jon's not the only one with powers.

And then words actually register along with that thought.

Danny hisses out the first thing he thinks of. "Since when?? I thought he took after Aunt Lois!"

"Since now," Jazz gruffs, switching her grip to drag Danny away, "and I need you to do something about it!"

"What?" Danny doesn't struggle, going along even as he eyes Conner who seems to be following them at a distance. "Why?"

Jazz pushes him towards the kid's area, rushing out a frantic "He's in the bounce house with Ellie!"

Danny freezes, or tries to even as Jazz keeps tugging him along, before shaking off her hand and booking it towards the bounce house.

Once the bounce house (a castle) comes into view, Danny clocks several things in succession:

One: Ellie and Jon are thankfully the only ones in the bounce house right now.

Two: Ellie and Jon are laughing, and through the mesh Danny can see Ellie watching Jon jump way too high to be considered normal.

And three: The bounce house is about to fucking tip over.

There's a gaggle of Aunts herding the younger cousins towards the food that's dense enough for cover, but sparse enough for Danny to dash through.

Between one blink and the next, he disappears.

[lokissweater]

promise

{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}

summary: halloween calls for pumpkin carving, cliche horror movies, and most importantly, a penthouse halloween party— only the best of the best invited amongst the world of professional athletes and teams, and you looking forward to this event and giddy as you stood in the ambiance of fake spiderwebs and skeletons…. but megumi is tested. patience running thin when every single man there seemed to track you like a dog, and you thrown off when a certain megumi admirer crosses the line with her absurd words and phrasing… unbeknownst to you that she had it out for you, planning schemes to get what she wants and stopping at nothing to get it— and what she wants being something that already belonged to you… megumi fushiguro.

warnings: MDNI. FLUUUFFF, angst, JEALOUSYYY YEESH, mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of inebriation, afab!reader, cursing, use of y/n, pet names, penthouse party, FERAL SMUUTT, dom reader AND dom megumi HEEE, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), bondage, creampie, scary halloween sex, megumi is COOCKOO IN THE COCONUTS, reader is bratty, megumi is a jealous freak, all characters are aged up.

word count: 19.8k

authors note: OKAAAYYY MLB!MEGUMI FOOOUURRR AAAHHH THIS IS CRAZZZYYY !! LETS ALL COME TOGETHER AND PRAAYYY for what y’all are about to read, and i hope you all LOVEE ITT AND THIRST WITHH MEEE !!! UGH this was an absolute privilege to write for you all and i can only hope once again that i delivered !! <333 I LOVE YOU SOOOO SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT !! <333 MWAAAHHH !!

i highly advise you to read the other parts of this series or else you won’t be able to understand some of the storyline and references :( you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

“what’s that baby.”

you leaned away from the mirror and looked at megumi, him sat patiently and content on the edge of the tub as he watched you do your makeup.

“this?” you held up your mascara wand and he nodded. “mascara gumi! it goes on my lashes and helps them look preeettyyy.”

you looked to the mirror and leaned over the sink again, dipping the mascara wand in the tube, muttering. “or at least i hope it does…”

megumi huffed a breath of amused air through his nose. “it does.”

you grinned, stepping away from the sink and walking over to him as you extended an arm, offering the little wand.

“wanna help mee?”

he pinched his brows momentarily before reaching and taking it from your waiting hand, mumbling. “i don’t know how baby… i don’t wanna poke your eye.”

you laughed a little and perched yourself up on his lap gently, megumi readjusting so you’d be comfortable and placing a cold hand on your thigh.

“you won’t gumi! i’ll show you look—”

you took the wand back from him and raised the bristle to your eye, sliding it up slowly against your lash as megumi focused his gaze on what you were doing, face so serious that it made you giggle.

“here! you try.” you smiled sweetly, passing it back to him as you excitedly waited for him to copy what you did.

he brought the bristle to your other eye, fingers coming up to gently hold your jaw and keep you in place as he brought up the wand, delicately running the mascara over your lashes with precision.

you stared at him, the way his deep blue eyes tracked his own movements so carefully with furrowed eyebrows as you could tell he was trying his hardest to stay away from your actual eyeball, you finding it difficult to stay still and not swoon over his striking features that never failed to hinder your normal brainy functions— his face close to yours.

“gumi.”

“hm?”

“your lashes are so beautiful.”

the side of his lip curled up in amusement.

“they’re.. eyelashes.”

“lucious eyelashes my god…” you murmured as he moved the bristles away from you and lowered his hand. “they’re so long and sexy.”

he snorted and lifted his hand to give you back the wand, you happily taking it as he then mushed your cheeks together with his fingers and kissed your puckered lips.

“you almost ready.”

“yes!” you responded, standing from his lap and walking over to the sink to take a look at his work, giving him a cheeky thumbs up at the results with a cute smile before dipping the bristles back in the shiny gold tube, coating a bit more of the product on your lash for a fuller look.

halloween was one of your most favorite holidays of the year, right next to valentine’s day and megumi’s birthday as the overall feel of horror, carved pumpkins, and cheesy gore just did something to you that made you sickeningly giddy and riled up whenever you and megumi participated in fall activities each year.

and today was just that— you and your boyfriend getting ready (well mostly you) for a halloween party taking place just about an hour from now, going as a couples costume that consisted of you dressed up as a slutty cupid and him one of your victims, his simple white long sleeved button up and black pants all it was since you didn’t have the heart to make him wear an actual costume, knowing he would probably be embarrassed by it and keep the fact from you.

but the event you were attending wasn’t just any halloween party.

it was the fucking halloween party for any professional athlete across the globe, exclusive as hell, and teams from literally everywhere invited as long as they were the best of the best and honed in several winning titles under their belts— megumi and his team being no exception as they got invited every single year with the event manager practically begging megumi and yuji in particular to attend, but megumi always missing out every year due to his general dislike for parties.

but you loved parties. and he knew that.

and seeing how upset you got last year not being able to go because one of your professors decided to be a dick and assign an exam the day of halloween—

megumi silently made sure that this year you both would be able to go, regardless of what he thought about parties so as long as you were there.

“i just need to put on my corset and wings.” you screwed the mascara tube shut. “i’ll be back!—”

“you’re not changing in here?” he asked confusedly.

“…no.”

“why not.”

“because i need privacy gumi.”

he gave you a deadpanned look. “i’ve seen you naked baby.”

a fiery pink blush rose to your cheeks as you started stiffly side stepping closer to the door.

“okay?” you pursed your lips. “water is wet. the sky is blue. i’m horny because of your costume—”

megumi laughed loudly as your voice trailed off down the hall, you skipping into his room and throwing your top off over your head so you could put on your cherry red corset, it already fucking suffocating you and you hadn’t even tied the laces yet as you quickly slipped on your white thigh high socks and little wings, running down the hall again back to the restroom.

“oh my god i can’t breathe—”

“jesus christ.”

“what?!” you froze and looked down at your costume. “what does it look bad? do i look trashy? do i look stupid—”

“no baby no.” megumi spoke gently, embarrassed that he accidentally let his reaction slip. “s’cute. i like it.”

you smiled sweetly, nodding and turning to look at the mirror to lace up your corset— each tug and pull from your hands only pushing your godly tits further up and up and up until megumi had to grip the sides of the tub to keep himself from grabbing you and taking your white mini skirt off, your soft tits now sitting pretty and puffy at the top of your corset with a tied lacey bow.

you breathed in deeply as you set your hands on your hips, barely even having room to properly exhale as you tried to get yourself accustomed to it.

“i’m gonna die.”

megumi chuckled and stood, walking over to you and settling his long arms around your waist, pulling you in.

“loosen it a little baby.” he leaned to the side to look at your skirt, one hand coming down to tug at it. “is this how short it is?”

“yup!” you cheekily grinned, pecking his rosy cheek. “i’m going as a little slut.”

he playfully rolled his eyes and smoothed his hands over the material of your corset, eyes wanting to lock themselves straight with your tits again but refraining himself from doing so.

“and halloween is like my religion gumi.” you propped your chin up on his chest. “it’d be a disgrace if i loosened up my corset like a freaking loser.”

megumi laughed, his pearly smile making your heart flutter as you stood up on your tippy toes and kissed him.

“kay, you ready?”

he looked at you confusedly. “for what?”

“for the lipstick kisses!” you stepped away from his arms and dug into your makeup bag on the counter. “it’s part of your costume baby it’s like i made you fall in love but with me ‘cause i’m cupid and i shot you with an arrow and now you love me and stuff…”

megumi watched you pull out your red lipstick and unscrew the top, sliding the end of it over your lips carefully before pressing them into a thin line and spreading the product around, leaning back from the mirror.

you turned to him. “ready ready?”

he nodded and let you tug him down by his collar, you undoing a few buttons from the top so his chest would show as you moved and pressed a gentle but solid kiss to his collarbone.

and megumi took note of then that you never really had to do anything for him to get riled up, because you being you and with each little kiss that trailed up his neck and left behind scattered red lipstick marks, had him blushing furiously and looking to the side, a particular peck to the edge of his adam’s apple causing him to harshly suck in a breath through his nose.

megumi loved halloween.

you finished with a kiss to his jaw, pulling back and eyes lighting up at the sight of him covered in your red smooches, you gently nudging him to look in the mirror.

“you look so cuuutee guumiii!” you gushed, a silly smile on your face as you admired your work and pointed at him funnily through the mirror, but faltering and head snapping in his direction once you saw his blank blinking eyes.

“what?” you asked softly, brows furrowed in concern. “are you okay? do you not like it? i could— i could take it off—”

you went to reach for the makeup wipes in your bag until megumi caught your wrist and yanked you forward, dropping his face into your breasts and biting down on a puffy tit as you gasped.

“gumi!” you laughed, hands pushing at his chest as he dragged a long wet stripe up from your boob to the side of your neck. “not right now!”

“why not.” he mumbled, pulling your waist in again and biting down on the side of your neck, his mouth traveling back to your tits. “i’ll be fast.”

your cheeks grew hot as he gnawed and bit over your boobs, your body melting with each lick and little by little giving in to him as you felt yourself dazedly lean forward into his chest.

but the party.

“w— won’t we be late?” you asked softly, thighs clamping together at the way he slipped his hand up your skirt to grope your ass.

“just a little pretty baby…” he murmured against your skin, fingers slowly creeping under your panties. “wanna feel you around my—”

a blaring chime rang through the bathroom, your phone vibrating against the counter as you tried to pull away from megumi and retrieve it.

“my— baby my phone—”

“leave it.”

“but it’s my best friend—”

you extended a strained arm, outstretched fingers clawing to grab at your phone as he continued to assault your neck and tits, almost knocking it off the counter instead as you alternately decided to put your phone on speaker, tapping your finger on the screen to answer the call with your frame still utterly caged in megumi’s arms.

“hel—”

“y/n oh my god please help me!”

your eyebrows furrowed in concern while you literally wrestled with your boyfriend at this point to let you go, him snickering and biting down harder on your skin as you giggled.

“what— what happened?”

“i can’t lace up my costumeee!” she whined. “are you at megumi’s place still?! yuji doesn’t know how to do it he almost snapped the ribbon twice and i can’t see because it’s on my back and we’re gonna be fucking late—”

you gasped. “oh no— yes! yes i am hurry so i can help you—”

“perfect i’m already at the door—”

megumi huffed, rolling his eyes as he straightened up and softly let you go, you looking up at him with apologetic eyes and reaching up to caress his cheek.

“i’m sorry gumi… we can have sex when we get back!”

“you can— what?!” your girl friend shrieked over the phone, both of megumi’s hands slapping over your mouth with blushing cheeks. “you freaks open the damn door!”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry!—”

megumi laughed and kissed your forehead, dropping his hands and turning to leave the bathroom to get the door as your girl friend still yelled over the other line— a combination of what you had said and about her corset until you actually heard her in person down the hallway through the living room.

“y/n help me please dear god— move megumi—”

fast clicking heels echoed down the hall until they reached you, your best friend heaving as she slumped against the door frame with a trail of dark blue ribbon behind her, the corset of her slutty police officer costume loose around her body as she clutched it against herself.

“i’m so scared the ribbon is gonna snap.” she breathed out. “yuji pulled it so fucking hard i heard a rip—”

“is it okay?!”

yuji ran into the bathroom as soon as you ushered her in and gently turned her around, inspecting the ribbon.

“babe i’m sorry i’m so sorry please forgive me—”

“why did you keep tightening it when i told you to stop?” your girl friend stressed, holding onto the edge of the counter as you proceeded to lace up her corset.

“i don’t know i’m stupid i’m sorry—”

“it’s fine—”

“no i need the death penalty right now—”

megumi appeared behind yuji then with a cold look on his face, arms crossed as he leaned against the hallway wall and listened to the commotion happening in his own fucking apartment that annoyingly hindered the moment he was having with you minutes prior.

“you guys the ribbon is okay.” you began, quickly fastening it through various loops and crosses. “there was a little tear in it but not that bad! it shouldn’t give out.”

they both breathed out a dramatic sigh of relief and you giggled at that, finishing up the lacing with a cute bow at the bottom that matched yours and stepping back, your girl friend happily looking at the ribbon through the mirror then before throwing her arms around your neck and giving you a big kiss on the cheek.

“i love you thank you!”

“mhm!” you sweetly responded, looking over and readjusting the rest of her costume as she started pinning down her little police officer hat, yuji guiltily sulking in the back and megumi disappearing off somewhere.

“babe i told you it’s okay!” your best friend laughed, turning around to ruffle up his pink hair. “it didn’t rip that much and you didn’t mean to at all either.”

he nodded and kissed her cheek, running a hand up and down her side.

“i know i just feel bad… i would’ve fucked up your costume.”

she shrugged, running her hands over his white ribbed tank top. “and we would’ve figured something else out! i was already thinking of using my shoe laces instead.”

you laughed a bit, the sight of yuji wearing bright orange prison pants with his top a funny one as your best friend reached into the back pocket of her shorts to pull out her phone, you fixing over the straps of your little cupid wings in the mirror.

“i’m gonna down every single fucking fruity drink i see.” you spoke excitedly. “oh! you guys do they still do the bottle sparkler drinks you told me about? the ones they bring out and light on fire and—”

“yeaahhh!” yuji exclaimed. “they do holy fuck i’m getting in line for that i don’t care if i black out drunk you only live once—”

your girl friends sudden gasp made you both jump and look at her.

“oh my god—” she frantically scrolled through her phone. “oh my god we have to go we have to go—”

“what?!” you peered over her shoulder to try and look at her screen. “why?! what happened what— are we too late—”

she spun around and grabbed your shoulders. “the— the nfl cheerleaders! they showed up y/n the fucking cheerleaders—”

“oh my god!” you quickly shoved your scattered about makeup into your bag and flung your curler and straightener under the sink. “we have to go we have to go we need to butter our way in this is our chance to be one of them—”

“oh my god oh my god—” she hurriedly pinned her toy badge to her chest before snatching yuji’s hand and running out of the bathroom, yelling from down the hall. “we’ll meet you guys there y/n! call me as soon as you park!”

“okay!” you called back, megumi soon after silently appearing with your cherry red mary jane pumps— dangling loosely from his fingers.

“oh my goodness thank you gumi i couldn’t find those!” you tumbled out quickly, following his lead when he guided you to sit down on the edge of the tub, him getting down on a knee and lifting your ankle up to slip and strap your heels on for you.

“did you hear?” you grinned, bouncing in your spot. “the nfl cheerleaders showed up.”

he chuckled lowly. “i did baby. i heard all the way from my room.”

you bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a squeal, megumi gently setting down one ankle and lifting the other.

“would you still love me if i was a cheerleader for the nfl.”

he snorted. “yes. why wouldn’t i?”

“because i’m betraying the mlb.” you pouted, him finished now and looking up at you with a tiny smile. “but it’s not my fault you guys don’t have cheerleaders! i would’ve tried out a long time ago if you did…”

he looked at you amusedly before kissing your lips and standing, helping you up on your heels with a hand and leading you out of the bathroom over to the living room.

“would you still love me if i was in football instead of baseball?” he asked, grabbing his keys from the counter and leaning down to tie his shoes.

you gave him a bewildered look.

“gumi i’d still love you even if you killed people for a living.” you mumbled. “or if you had a criminal record. or if you committed arson for fun. or even if you straight up didn’t love me back i’d probably stalk you—”

megumi laughed loudly and stood back up, shaking his head and pinching your little cheek at your last comment before opening the front door and stepping out with you.

“i wouldn’t mind that.”

you giggled. “you wouldn’t?”

he shook his head, a sly smile spreading across his face.

“i’d do worse.”

the only thing you all really knew about the whereabouts of the party, was that it was annually hosted at a penthouse in the city by an event manager who was obsessed with professional sports teams, but the details of exactly who’s penthouse was unknown… only that it was the biggest social event of the year with open bars and smoke machines and cocktail waitresses at every corner— any player who was someone in their respective sport always in attendance.

you had heard about it many times before through yuji and your best friend before you had officially met megumi, you every year wanting to go so bad but far too intimidated by the type of crowd that it was to actually show up, doomed to watch their stories on social media and the cheerleaders you followed having the time of their lives doing shots from a cut in half bamboo pole with various others in a line— moping around in your room with nothing better to do.

but now you were eternally grateful that you finally got to go with none other than the person you loved most in your life, not wanting it any other way as megumi contently listened to you excitedly ramble and look through social media stories of the players already there in his passenger seat, interlaced fingers on the center console as he occasionally raised and kissed the back of your hand.

and upon arriving at the penthouse and leaving your vehicles at the parking garage, all of you were amazed to see that there was a line wrapped around the fucking building and down the street as you walked up, you nervous now for some reason while skipping through the entire line and going towards the security guard inside the lobby.

and you’ve always admired and taken pride in the fact that megumi was the best at his sport and was recognized immensely for it despite his indifferent stoic image… but even more so now as the security guard didn’t even have to listen to yuji say who they were as he stepped to the side and pointed down the hall.

“last elevator to your left, button goes straight up. have a great night.”

you all thanked him and walked over to the elevator, piling in and pressing the golden lit button to the top floor before the doors gradually slid closed.

“if the bamboo shots already happened i’m gonna be pissed.” you mumbled, yuji and your best friend groaning in agreement as they chatted and watched the number in the elevator screen rise to thirty five and still going.

“if the bar runs out of those tiki cocktail mugs before we get there i’m actually gonna start fighting with the bartenders this time—”

“no you’re not.” your best friend cut yuji off as she laughed, lightly slapping his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his torso after.

you felt megumi nudge you and you looked, his head coming down and placing his lips to the side of your ear.

“try not to lose me baby.” he murmured. “call me if you do please. or look for yuji’s stupid bright pants.”

“hey!” he whined. “i heard that…”

you giggled hard and nodded, standing on your tippy toes to give him a cute kiss on the cheek.

“kay gumi!”

and the doors slid open just then, music blasting through and startling you and megumi as he grabbed your hand to interlock your fingers, your eyes shining like constellations at the massive scene before you as you all stepped inside— the entire penthouse lit in a dark purple neon hue with hanging skeletons and bats on the walls, fake spiderwebs hung at every corner and yellow caution tape strewn about, absolutely everyone dressed up and not a single one in regular attire as you navigated through the crowd, foggy air over the floor that sweeped and swayed with every movement.

and the walls were tall and humongous, a particular side playing a montage of various teams and specific players’ best moments of their season on a projector screen, your eyes immediately focusing to see if you could spot megumi in any of the flashing videos.

a cocktail waitress passed by with a tray of shots then, multiple hands coming from the crowd to take as your group did as well and downed them back, megumi scrunching up his face in distaste as he coughed into his elbow and put the shot glass back on the tray, you rubbing a comforting hand over his back.

“loooser!” your best friend teased and pointed at him, megumi scowling and slapping her hand away from his face before swinging an arm around your hip.

“no that shit was actually nasty..” you gagged, the rest of you following suit and placing the shot glasses back on the tray before the cocktail waitress disappeared somewhere in the crowd, yuji nodding in agreement.

“that’s why i hog the tiki bar every year— oh shit!—” he quickly whipped his head around with wide eyes. “babe babe my tiki mug where the fuck is the tiki bar?!”

“the fire! the fire!” your girl friend pointed up ahead, all of you turning your heads to see a crowded bar adorned with hibiscus flowers and actual lit torches, multiple bartenders behind the counter booked and busy as they mixed alcohols and shook their barrel shakers to serve drinks.

“oh there’s actually fire...” megumi mumbled. “indoors.”

you gasped. “oh my god gumi let’s go let’s go!” you grabbed his wrist with two hands and gently tugged him forward, a beaming smile on your face. “i want a tiki mug too!”

he laughed a little, nodding as you all started walking over to the bar, yuji literally shoving his way through to the front until the upper half of his body was toppled over the counter with flat palms on the surface.

“tiki mug!” he breathed out to the bartenders. “tiki mug is there still tiki mugs?!”

“itadori!” one of them greeted with a smile, his eyes flickering over to megumi. “and fushiguro?! i’ve never seen you at one of these! ever!”

megumi’s expression read nothing as he only nodded curtly, yuji impatiently waiting for the bartender to answer his question as he looked like he was about to rip his hair out, your best friend laughing.

“congrats on winning the world series last year!” he spoke again before reaching under the bar. “and for the mlb, of course i have tiki mugs!”

“oh thank god thank you i love you mister bartender!” yuji slumped against the counter with a hand over his heart.

“so what drink with it?” he lined up four tiki mugs on the bar. “i could do a piñacolada, blue hawaii, tropical bay breeze—”

“oh! could i do a blue hawaii please?” you asked politely, the bartender nodding and taking the rest of your orders before quickly getting to work and mixing alcohols together.

“megumi i’ll take your mug if you don’t want it!” yuji mentioned hopefully, tail basically wagging like a little dog.

“i’m giving it to y/n.”

“fuck!”

you giggled and patted his shoulder. “it’s okay! you can have it. just let me drink his drink first though heh.”

“oh thank you!” yuji threw his arms around your neck and you stumbled back, megumi quickly placing his hands on your waist to stabilize you. “you don’t understand every year i come to this damn party and there’s never tiki mugs i’ve been saved—”

“babe you’re not letting her breathe get off!” your girl friend laughed, tugging at his ribbed tank before he released you and spun around, engulfing her instead.

“sorry! arrest me!”

“yu!”

“cuff me but the fuzzy pink ones i like those—”

“you’re disgusting.” megumi mumbled.

your girl friend shot him a glare.

“says the one who fucks my best friend every night and makes her say the most outrageous things—”

you screamed and covered your reddening horrified face, megumi shutting up instantly with wide eyes and pink cheeks as yuji and your girl friend reeled over and cackled.

“blue hawaii! tropical bay breeze! rum punch! bahama mama!”

each tiki mug was stacked onto the bar with a thud after every call— full and foamy with colorful liquid and little umbrella picks adorning them as they were pushed towards you, yuji profusely thanking the nice bartender and almost jumping over the counter too as he grabbed his mug.

you took a sip of your drink and lit up, immediately slurping the rest of your blue hawaii and downing it like it’s fucking water and not straight up alcohol as megumi watched you with shocked amused eyes.

“you like it baby?” he softly asked, taking tiny sips of his rum punch and surprisingly liking it, offering it out to you. “you wanna try mine?”

you swallowed a big gulp and quickly nodded. “yes! please gumi.”

you both switched drinks, trying each others and you loving his even more as megumi gently turned you around and wrapped his unoccupied arm over your tummy, tugging your back to rest against his front as you chatted with your friends and tried to hear each other over the loud music (and megumi trying to ignore the stares you got from random weird men..), your eyes occasionally drifting over the crowd and spotting several different star players.

most consisted of the nfl, but there were a good amount from the nba and other teams from the mlb— even volleyball and hockey as you recognized some of their faces from reruns that played on your tv or the highlights you saw through your social media platforms, you a bit star struck when you saw particular ones your were a fan of casually walk by the tiki bar next to you.

you reached a hand out and tapped your girl friend.

“have you seen the cheerleaders yet?!” you yelled over the music, shoulders slumping when she sadly shook her head no.

“i’m gonna actually start crying in front of all of these people if i don’t see at least one.” she stressed. “we need to start looking in the crowd—”

a sudden jolt stumbled you and megumi forward, the both of you craning your heads around.

“i’m so sorry!” a girl gasped. “i didn’t see where—”

she oddly stopped, megumi barely even sparing her a glance as he just nodded at her apology and turned back around to face the other way, but you still watching the way she stared at megumi with big shocked eyes and slightly parted mouth.

similar to the way you did when you first saw him.

but she continued to look at him, her eyes flickering to yours then and… hardening before she reluctantly spun the other way and moved through the crowd until you couldn’t see her blonde hair anymore.

and you figured she could’ve just been a fan of megumi’s and was simply too starstruck to say anything… but the weird feeling in your gut had you gnawing at the bottom of your lip as you turned to face the other way again.

“strange..” your best friend mumbled, your eyes snapping to hers.

“you noticed that too?”

“uh huh.” her gaze scanned the main dance floor. “don’t think i’ve ever seen her before either.”

you craned your neck to look up at your boyfriend.

“have you gumi?”

he looked down, brows furrowing.

“have i what.”

“seen her?” you nudged your head to the crowd. “the girl that bumped into us?”

“who?”

you laughed. “the girl— nevermind. it’s okay!”

he smiled softly, leaning down to peck your lips before continuing to sip on his little blue hawaii as he caressed his hand over your side, his arm still snug around your torso.

“is everybody having a good night or what?!”

your gazes shifted to the dj booth up ahead, the mc of the night holding up a wireless mic with his phone in hand as the crowd erupted in cheers and hollers.

“i want to thank everybody for coming out tonight! it’s a pleasure to do this every year and see all of your talented wonderful faces—”

“oh no.” megumi mumbled, you looking up at him with a confused raised brow.

“what?”

“i think they’re gonna call me up.”

your jaw dropped, stepping out of his arm and facing him.

“they’re gonna what?”

“yuji told me about this last year…” his face was practically pale as he looked to the dj booth, your best friend and yuji already cutting through the crowd to get up there. “they call up certain players from different teams for recognition.”

“oh—” you looked on ahead, an excited smile spreading across your face. “oh that’s so nice baby! you deserve to be recognized like thaaatt!”

he slowly shook his head, absolutely fucking stiff as a rock and annoyance brewing in his chest over the party and event manager doing something fucking ridiculous like this.

“baby let’s go to the bathroom.”

“the bathroom?” you tilted your head. “why?”

“to hide.”

“gumi!” you sent him a comforting grin and ran your fingers through his soft black spikes of hair. “it’ll be okay! they just want to show appreciation for your gift baby that’s all.”

“i don’t want it.” he mumbled, forehead dropping down to rest on your shoulder miserably as you giggled.

“but i wanted to see you up thereee!” you whined, wrapping your arms around his hunched shoulders. “wanna see my cool baseball man in the spotlight for a little like he should be.”

megumi’s cheeks grew pink.

“but let’s go to the bathroom or upstairs we can—”

“if you want me to go up there i will.” he cut you off.

“huh?” your eyebrows furrowed as he picked his head back up. “what—”

“m’going up.”

you gasped. “no gumi it’s okay! i don’t want you to do something that makes you uncomfortab—”

“honda! ito! fushiguro!—”

he cupped your cheek and kissed the other.

“i’ll be back.” he murmured, patting your head while simultaneously swallowing back his displeasure for the situation— but doing it solely for you. “stay here.”

“ledger! itadori! okkotsu!—”

“o—okay!”

“please come up to the booth talented players—”

megumi walked away from the bar and through the crowd, his height making it easy for you to spot him through the masses until he got up there with yuji and the rest of the players, you going on your tippy toes and peering to and fro to try and see where he was at but pursing your lips when you couldn’t fucking see him anymore, ultimately deciding to move through the crowd yourself to find a spot where you could.

“ladies and gentlemen could i please get a round of applause for your top players of the year?!”

an eruption of whistles and clapping pierced through your ears as you tried to shimmy your way in, finally landing a leeway in between several heads and seeing your boyfriend up there— grumpy and bothered with his arms crossed as you covered your mouth to try and suppress a laugh, phone in hand already recording.

“woa— megumi fushiguro?! first year i’ve seen you here man!”

the crowd burst into surprised exclamations and gasps, the mc throwing a heavy arm around megumi as he stumbled forward, an unamused done expression plastered over his face as you held your phone up high with the biggest smile, probably looking utterly insane as you erratically flipped and rotated and zoomed in on his figure in every possible angle imaginable, the bright white lights illuminating him so insanely that he straight up looked like a god.

and you wondered then how in the fuck one of the mlb’s greatest players ever became interested in someone like you, for you felt like megumi was completely out of your league from the start with all of his glorious batting and pitching.

but every time you iterated exactly that to him amongst your endless daily ramblings, he would scoff and shake his head and gnaw at any part of your skin to get you to take back that ludicrous fucking statement, always thinking you were way too humble about yourself and polite and sweet to realize that he had to go through the trenches of telling different guy’s to fuck off if he saw they were even remotely interested in you without you knowing.

megumi did this even before you officially noticed him on the field.

and today was no exception as he scanned the main area of the penthouse to the tiki bar in search for you, the mc blabbering on about things he didn’t care about as he realized you weren’t where he told you to stay, quickly then scanning the crowd and his shoulders relaxing once he spotted you in the midst of the crowd, but eyes narrowing as he saw some stupid moron obnoxiously ogling your tits next to you while you were happily watching him with your phone propped up.

the fuck?

“—good luck to you and itadori in the league championships! any words you wanna say for us here?!” the mc vocalized through the mic, holding it up to megumi’s mouth after.

“wrap it up.”

a mix of ooo’s and laughs bounced off the walls, the mc awkwardly chuckling before unhooking his arm and patting a hand on his back.

“that’s megumi fushiguro for you! now any nba players up here?!—”

megumi immediately stepped off the platform and moved through the crowd, your eyes cutely twinkling once you noticed he was making his way over to you as you stopped your recording and stuffed away your phone.

“that was so funny— oh!”

he swiftly stepped in between you and the guy to block his view, the stupid moron slightly going off balance from how close he actually was to you and the fact only further pissing megumi off, an arm coming to wrap around your waist as he led you out of the center and off to the side by the big wall with the projection screen on it.

“what—” you looked to where you previously were and back to him. “what happened? why—”

he shrugged. “wanna talk over here baby.”

“oh, okay!” you nodded, sweet and oblivious as you enthusiastically yapped about how great it was seeing him up there.

but the guy who was ogling your tits was only the first wave.

“oh my god gumi!” you frantically tapped his shoulder and pointed to the projection wall. “it’s you! it’s you! oh my god i’ve been waiting all night i want a picture right fucking now quick hurry hurry—”

you hopped on over with your mary jane pumps and stood next to the huge projected singular shot of megumi swinging his bat, one foot crossing over the other as you wrung your hands behind your back and tilted your head with a cheeky smile, megumi reaching in his pocket for his phone.

that pose alone might as well have been you violently shooting another cupids arrow through his chest— his tingling pinky cheeks prominent under the purple neon hue of the penthouse as he took several photos, a fond smile growing on his face.

pretty.

megumi watched as you uncrossed your feet and seperated your hands, turning around and straight up pressing yourself against the wall with your tongue erotically out and spread palms over his projected snapshot, him snickering as he covered his mouth with the hand that was holding his phone, trying to ignore the way his dick twitched in his pants at the sight.

he took more pictures and gave you a silent thumbs up, you dropping your pose and skipping back over to him as he put his phone away and extended a waiting arm out to the side, you stepping in and his hand instantly snaking around your waist where it should be.

your gaze stayed locked to the wall, totally transfixed with glimmering heart filled eyes as it continued to play megumi’s greatest moments of his season— most if not all from this year alone, but a good amount consisting of last years world series game where he absolutely dismantled the opposing team with every move he made on the field with no mercy, immense pride bubbling in your little heart.

“you’re the coolest gumi…” you spoke softly and he looked down at you, eyes softening at your dazed state.

“yeah?”

“mhm.” you responded, letting him tug you into his chest as he leaned and placed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “i think i’m gonna start crying and hyperventilating on the floor.”

he chuckled, delicately moving some of your hair over your shoulder to run his hand along the smooth skin there, lips coming down next to your ear.

“i love you.”

you grinned, your heart actually skipping beats and running around every corner of your inner body as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in.

“i love you too gumi!” you gave him a cute peck on the side of his head. “and i think i’m gonna start stalking you anyways like i said because i really need something to do on my down time when i’m not studying or at your events—”

megumi laughed, an infatuated squeaky one as he nodded against the crook of your neck and held you a little tighter.

“do it.”

“okay i’ll start monday! or maybe now and i’m gonna do it by—”

“oh my gosh megumi fushiguro!”

you felt him falter in your arms and turn his head, the both of you slowly separating from each other to see who it was and your brows slightly pinching once you did.

it was the girl from earlier. the one that bumped into you.

“hi! oh my— i’m such a big fan of yours!”

your guard lowered a little upon hearing that, a small smile on your face as you looked at her.

“oh, hi.” he mumbled.

“i’ve been a fan since you got signed actually!” she exclaimed, her short bobbed blonde hair and angel costume cute to you. “how funny i run into you here right? must be fate.”

fate?

“well it’s—” he shifted uncomfortably. “it’s a sports party… thing…”

she giggled obnoxiously like she’d just heard the funniest thing ever, fingers lightly smacking his shoulder as you stood there.

“i know silly!” she smiled, nudging his upper arm with her hand. “just wanted to say that i admire you so much and think you’re the greatest! the way you play is amazing and i love it.“

you were absolutely happy with the fact that a fan was being so nice to megumi and telling him such kind words, as he deserved all of the praise and support and you loved whenever people expressed just that to him— a total treat for you if you were there to witness it as well.

but the weird feeling in your gut was back… and why was she touching him so much…

“thanks.” he spoke simply, giving barely a smile before he made his way to turn back around.

“w—wait!” she shot her hands out. “i’m hana!”

he paused midway and nodded curtly. “hi hana.”

her face gleamed and she blushed, looking like she’d just won the fucking lottery as she smiled big and cupped over her mouth with both hands, obsessed over the way her name sounded from him.

“do i hear wedding bells?!” she squealed. “when’s the ceremony?!”

you choked on your fucking spit, your boyfriend completely taken aback as he looked at her bewildered and awkwardly, megumi sort of initially appreciating the support, but now he just didn’t wanna partake in the conversation anymore as his mind was more interested in the ways you’d stalk him that you were about to tell earlier.

“so are you having fun tonight?” hana continued. “i’ve never seen you around and i come to this event every year!”

“um yeah i’m here with—”

“your friend?” she pointed at you. “how cute! i’m here with a friend too.”

the way she barely acknowledged your presence, even when it was pertaining to you as she spoke about you rather than to you, and the way she literally insinuated marriage like it was nothing with your man, left a sour fucking taste in your mouth.

and friend?

“girlfriend.” he corrected.

her face tightened.

“right!” hana’s gaze landed on yours. “sorry! i couldn’t tell.”

huh?

megumi’s arm was around your waist and she couldn’t tell?

you hugged his upper arm to your chest and gently tugged him away. “sorry but we have to go it was nice meeting you—”

a spark of annoyance flashed through her eyes. “oh but i was talking to him though—”

“—i’m sorry bye.”

you pulled megumi harder and you both dove into the crowd, disappearing from hana’s view as you went in search for your best friend and yuji— agitated and feeling guilty that you were in case hana really was just a fan and was simply overly affectionate.

but she didn’t have to disregard you like that either…

megumi could sense you were a bit bothered by the grip you had on his arm and the way you barely looked at him as you shimmied through people, his brows furrowing in concern.

“baby.” he leaned down next to your ear. “what’s wrong.”

you shook your head. “nothing. just trying to find yuji’s stupid bright pants.”

he smiled a bit.

“i think you’re lying.”

“i’m not.”

“baby— i can tell something’s bothering you.” he continued to pry and you pursed your lips, looking up at him finally.

“that girl was kind of weird…”

“girl?” he cocked his head to the side. “which girl?”

you paused. “the— the one that came up to you and told you her name and complimented you—”

“oh.” his dark blue eyes blinked and trailed off like he was searching his brain for answers, him ultimately left clueless. “sorry i actually forgot everything she said.”

you snorted, leaning forward and covering your mouth as you giggled and shook your head, somehow your boyfriend forgetting the interaction as a whole making you feel better.

“you’re so cute gumi.” you stood up on your tippy toes and gave him a big fat kiss on the cheek. “now let’s find my best friend— bright pants! i see yuji’s bright pants!

you grabbed his wrist and quickly weaved through the crowd, your girl friend’s police officer costume coming into view as you let go of megumi and flung your arms around her neck, her immediately recognizing that it was you and gasping.

“oh my god i lost you y/n! i’m sorry!” she hugged you back and you frantically shook your head.

“no it’s okay!” you pointed to megumi. “he got called up to the dj booth i was distracted—”

“they kept asking you a bunch of questions and none for me man!” yuji pouted at megumi, your best friend laughing.

“they probably got tired of you giving shout outs to the tiki bar every year when you’re up there babe.” she smoothed a hand over his bicep. “and also because megumi came out of his bat cave for the first time in decades…”

you leaned and placed your lips to her ear.

“i have to tell you something.”

“what?! what?!” she whipped her head around and looked at yuji. “yu! go to the tiki bar please with megumi i think we all left our mugs there—”

“oh my fucking god we did!” he shoved his hands in his pink hair, completely horrified. “fushiguro let’s go we have to go—”

“why the fuck do i have to go—”

“no questions come on!”

yuji yanked megumi by his white button up and they tumbled through the crowd, you laughing hard as megumi looked at you over his shoulder— a pleading disgruntled look on his face.

“okay i got rid of them now tell me.”

“girl get ready.” you slowly shook your head, eyes wide. “because i think i’m about to crash out.”

“it’s that bad?!” she placed her hands on your shoulders. “what happened?!”

“a fan of megumi’s came up to him earlier.” you began. “but the things she was saying were putting me a little off.”

her brows furrowed. “what did she say?”

“first she said that them meeting was fate.” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “and then she started saying how much she admired him and loved him on the field which is fine but—”

“not fine but go on.”

you giggled and continued.

“she barely acknowledged me… like at all. she thought i was megumi’s friend even though his arm was around my waist—”

“huh?!” her eyes narrowed. “is she fucking stupid? what’s her name?”

“hana and— i don’t know!” you whined. “but then she literally said ‘do i hear wedding bells’ and ‘when’s the ceremony’ when he said her name—”

“what the fuck?!” she yelled. “y/n this girl was straight up flirting with him in front of you! oh my god if someone was doing that to me with yuji i’d be going to prison!”

“i was thinking—” you hesitated. “that maybe she was just really affectionate but i just feel like somethings not right.”

“hell no it’s not.” she shook her head. “y/n you need to stop being so nice all of the time and bite. next time some shit like this happens you need to say something. please don’t let yourself be disrespected like that.”

she patted your shoulders and released you, crossing her arms. “and what did megumi say?”

“oh he forgot it all!” you beamed. “i think he was barely listening to what she was saying.”

“HAH! okay that’s fine i won’t beat him.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and smiled. “i just wanna take shots from the bamboo pole and forget about it.”

“oh! it’s coming around!” your girl friend frantically looked around. “i saw it pass by and a group do it! it should come back—”

she stopped.

“what does hana look like?”

you quirked a brow.

“uhh short blonde hair? she’s dressed up as an angel.”

“oh my fucking god.” she muttered. “turn around.”

you did, heart dropping once you saw that she was talking to megumi again at the tiki bar, animatedly and close to him that you nearly took your cupid wings off and chucked them at her.

“what the hell is she doing?” you mumbled. “gumi!”

megumi’s head snapped up from his hunched over position on the bar, head swiftly looking around until he spotted you and without another thought pushed himself from the counter and walked, leaving hana there with her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, cutting off whatever she was saying to him prior.

you tugged him in once he got to you and snaked your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in and placing your face into his neck.

“you okay?” he asked over the music, rubbing slow circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“mhm!” you nodded. “was just wondering if you wanted to do bamboo pole shots with me.”

he huffed out an amused breath and squeezed you. “sure baby. don’t take too many though i don’t want you to get sick.”

“no promises!” you grinned.

hana knew from the moment she bumped into you who you were.

how could she not? the only woman that managed to somehow sliver her way in megumi’s life and beat her to the game was like a broken record in hana’s mind— over and over you played and taunted her with every appearance she saw you with him, with every game and event and social media posting from him you were always there— sweet and beautiful with the angelic reputation of changing megumi for the better and treating others so fairly, physically stinging her eyes every time she saw it on the tabloids or on tv.

megumi was supposed to be hers, and when she lost the game she didn’t know.

but her number one goal the minute she learned that megumi was in attendance at the party, was that she was gonna try with her life to make him see that he was destined for her. not for you.

though it wasn’t working like she thought it would.

through the times she’s pulled him and talked to him and flashed him sweet smiles and compliments, trying to copy the entity that you were so he would at least so spare her a fucking glance and listen to what she had to say— wasn’t working as he always disregarded her and straight up treated her like she wasn’t even there.

because of you.

and she was getting desperate.

increasingly so as she watched you and megumi and your little friends line up to take shots from the bamboo pole, all of you having fun and surrounded by people that loved you— for you were the absolute life of the party as you pulled various others from the crowd to do shots with you and rejoice, hana staring from afar with rage as she couldn’t help but just hate you with every kiss and laugh that megumi gave you.

and once hana saw an opening with megumi, him stepped off to the side as he watched you continue to down shots with your friends like nothing with amused eyes, she pushed her way through towards the bamboo line with a new immoral objective of getting him to just be interested in her and forget about you so that you’d crack, evidently showing him and everyone else that you weren’t so angelic and poised after all.

“megumi!”

he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around, indefinitely confused as to why the same girl kept pulling him for chats once he noticed who it was.

“hi?”

“sorry just saw you by the bamboo line.” she smiled. “have you taken any?”

“uh like two.”

megumi looked over his shoulder, attempting to keep an eye on you while at the same time talking to her and already thinking of ways he could cut it short, wanting to just go back to you and make sure you weren’t feeling sick or that a random dude wasn’t preying on you like a dog.

“i don’t know how you can do that!” she shook her head and giggled. “i don’t really drink like that.”

“i usually don’t either.”

pathetic hope washed through her body like an avalanche, her face lighting up over the similarity and the fact that he was actually continuing the conversation with her instead of brushing her off.

“really?!” she gushed. “what a coincidence! it’s like you’re my other half hehe.”

megumi froze.

why was she always telling him the most obscure things?

“um—”

“are you nervous for your league championship game coming up?”

several hoots and hollers made megumi turn around and see that you had taken a cocktail waitress’ tray and was literally doing her job for her— handing out shots to whoever and excitedly bouncing on your toes in response to those who accepted.

“megumi.”

he snapped his head back around.

“huh?”

“i said—” her eyes flickered to you before returning to him. “i said are you nervous for your league game?”

“somewhat.”

“you shouldn’t be!” she reached up and smoothed a hand over his shoulder, her heart pumping that she was touching him. “you’re the best on the team! you’re practically the reason why you guys win all of the time i’ve—”

you saw what she did.

and maybe it was the alcohol in your system making you bratty and the fact that you were a bit overly tipsy, but you also saw the way he let himself be caressed on the shoulder like that without any consideration for you, wondering why he wasn’t stopping the conversation as a whole and coming back to you and instead entertaining her, even after all of the weird shit she had told him before in front of you.

why didn’t he care?

you smiled at the cocktail waitress and gave her back her tray, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes as you tried to look around for your best friend, itching to get confirmation on whether or not you were being batshit crazy or if your feelings were valid as you searched— but halting once you heard megumi’s familiar squeaky laugh that he only let out with you.

megumi was laughing. wholeheartedly. and so was she.

what the fuck was so funny?

“hey—” your girl friend waved her hand in front of your face. “babe are you okay? why are you crying?”

what?

you reached a hand up and touched your cheek, your fingers sure enough shimmering and wet under the purple lights once you pulled them away.

“i don’t—” your lip wobbled. “i don’t know i— i think it’s just because i’m tipsy—”

“where is megumi?” her concerned gaze scanned the crowd until they landed on him, eyes narrowing instantly as she scoffed and shook her head.

“what is this?” she threw her hands up. “ditch my girlfriend for some other bitch day? megumi!”

he jumped and spun around, an initial annoyed look on his face over the way your best friend screamed at him, but eyes widening once he saw your shaking shoulders and covered face.

oh god.

megumi took long stride full steps away from hana to get to you, her sickeningly content with the fact that her presence alone with him upset you so much and threw you off your poised demeanor, thinking it was only a matter of time now before you took out your frustrations on him and drove him away— bonus points if you made a scene.

“what happened?” he hurriedly asked, gripping your shoulders and turning you around in his direction. “baby what happened why are you—”

you pushed him away and hiccuped.

“i don’t wanna talk to you right now.”

“what? why not?” his eyebrows furrowed. “hey—”

he reached to pull you in by the waist and you dodged his hand, turning around in the process and pushing your way through the crowd to get away from him, his heart sinking as he wasted no time in following after you.

“baby please—”

“no.” you stubbornly responded, damning the alcohol for making you act so irrationally. “why don’t you keep talking to other girls all willy nilly without giving a single fuck about me—”

“what?” he spoke sharply, completely thrown off. “okay no hold on—”

megumi picked up speed and engulfed his arms around your torso, lifting you up and taking you down a secluded hallway away from the main area while you thrashed and whined in his hold.

“let me go!”

“no.”

you sniffled.

“gumi let me go.”

“are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

he turned into a darkened corner and slowed.

“no.”

he bit down on your arm and you yelped.

“okay yes i will!”

he loosened his arms and gently set you back down on your feet, nudging you around as he bent his knees to look at you at eye level.

“what’s wrong.” he pushed. “are you hurt?”

you shook your head and hiccuped, fingers coming up to carefully wipe your tears away without ruining too much of your makeup.

“why do you keep talking to her?” you mumbled.

“to who?”

“to hana.”

“hana?” his eyebrows furrowed. “who’s hana?”

“the one that keeps coming up to you!” you expressed. “what did she tell you back there? while i was handing out shots?”

“oh she— she was asking me about the league game.”

“did she say anything weird again?” you crossed your arms.

fuck.

“she did baby…” he spoke softly.

your teary eyes snapped open.

“actually? what did she say?”

megumi really didn’t want to upset you any further, but he wasn’t about to shamefully lie to you either.

“she called me her other half.”

“are you serious?” you hiccuped. “and you just let her?”

“i didn’t let her—”

“this whole time you’ve been letting her i’ve seen you!” you sobbed. “she touches you way too much and has been pulling you for chats all fucking night saying things that are completely disrespectful to me and you say nothing!”

“i—”

“and then you’re laughing with her after she called you her other half? and laughing like you do with me?” you put your hands up defensively. “i’m sorry didn’t know you guys were the best of friends now—”

“baby— i wasn’t laughing at anything she said some drunk idiot tripped and fell on his face behind her.“ he placed his hands on each side of your head and you stopped. “and i swear to god that i didn’t realize any of those things because i don’t give a shit about anyone else but you and i’m sorry.”

“but she literally said do i hear wedding bells and when’s the ceremony!” you cried, the alcohol triggering a new wave of waterworks as you covered your face. “how could you not realize that—”

“no i know baby i know that’s on me.” he gently moved your hair away from your face. “everything she was saying was so foul and i was just letting it happen and i’m so fucking sorry that i didn’t put my foot down from the start. my entire focus is always on you and i was too stupid to realize you were hurting.”

“you’re not stupid gumi—”

“yes i am.” he delicately pried your hands away from your face. “yes i am and you don’t ever have to worry about things like this okay? the only thing that matters to me is you. and i can’t tell you how sorry i am for putting you in this position and making you cry.”

“no it’s me i—” you hiccuped, cheeks buzzing with embarrassment. “i’m sorry gumi i just got jealous and i overreacted and i’m tipsy so it made everything worse. i didn’t mean to yell at you…”

he shook his head, murmuring as he pulled you into his chest. “no you have nothing to be sorry for… i would go nuts if some dude told you the same shit she told me.”

you giggled a little, and megumi was so glad that you had stepped up and said something, especially over something as drastic as this, for you were always too sweet and chose to swallow back things that bothered you around him.

“i would never do that to you pretty baby.” he mumbled. “i would never let anyone else in… just you.”

you pulled away from his chest and quickly shook your head. “n—no gumi i know you wouldn’t. please don’t think that i’m accusing you or anything—”

“no absolutely not.” he spoke gently, thumbs reaching up to carefully wipe away the tears from your pretty face. “i just needed to tell you that… okay?”

you nodded. “okay.”

you stood on your tippy toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, his right away coming around your waist and pulling you in tight— nuzzling his nose into the soft skin of your shoulder as relief washed over his body that you weren’t upset with him anymore.

“are you tipsy like me?” you whispered cutely after a few seconds of comfortable silence, and he chuckled.

“yes.” he admitted. “i think i lost my phone.”

“gumi i feel it in your pocket.”

“i think that’s my dick.”

“gumi!” you nudged him away and giggled hard, a silly small grin spreading across his handsome face as you simmered down and looked at him, lips coming up for a kiss and him gladly leaning down to give you one— the moment sweet and tender as you wetly lip locked and megumi drank you in, him completely fucking deprived of you.

“can we go home.” he spoke in between kisses. “i wanna fuck.”

you laughed and pulled away, face hot as you bit back a smile. “we can go in a little bit baby. i still wanna see if my best friend and i can talk to the nfl cheerleaders heh.”

he chuckled and nodded, pecking your forehead before releasing you and beginning the walk back to the main area, your head in a better place now that you got the reassurance you needed— and so grateful you and megumi were able to bounce back after a situation like that with no repercussions, amazed time and time again at how understanding and patient your boyfriend was with you.

you moved your way through the crowd then in search for your best friend, not having to look for long seeing as she was right in the middle where you had left her— her yelling up and down if anyone had seen either you or megumi and harassing whoever that said they might’ve caught a glance.

“y/n!” yuji pointed, and your girl friend whirled around with frantic wide eyes, running and tackling you into a big hug as she cried.

“where were you?!” she sobbed. “oh my god i was looking everywhere for you you were so upset i thought the she devil took you away or broke you and megumi up or killed you—”

you gasped. “no oh my goodness please don’t cry!” your lip started to wobble again as you listened to her sniffles, hugging her back. “hell no i would never let her do any of that!”

“me neither!” she cried. “please let me get violent with her please—”

you laughed loudly and stepped back, carefully wiping her cheeks before treating yours as both of your men stared dumbfounded.

“fuck hana forget her we have to find the cheerleaders!” you exclaimed, placing your hands on her shoulders and shaking her. “are they still here?! have you checked their socials?!”

“yes! they’re still here!” she frantically nodded. “i saw one while i was looking for you she was—”

“is that one?”

megumi pointed to a girl who was straight up wearing her nfl cheerleader uniform with her pompoms, both you and your girl friend choking on air and gasping as you sputtered a bunch of nonsense and dragged your men with you over to her and her group.

“this is our chance this is our chance—”

why hadn’t it worked?

had hana not upset you enough? tore you down enough to an insecure little bubble to make you bark and bite and be everything that she thought megumi despised? what had happened when she lost the sights of both of you once you left the bamboo line?

because what she was looking at now was making her sick with rage.

you, surrounded by people again and cheerleaders— still stunning and breathtaking and not looking at all like you had just cried buckets like she thought you did, megumi’s arms around you from behind and actually closer now than before while you and your little girl friend conversed and laughed with the cheerleaders about god knows what, hana on the verge of screaming in agony over everything that was going wrong when she had expected a break up right about now.

she just didn’t get it… what was so great about you?

and it didn’t get any better when she started asking other people about you too throughout the night, the purpose being to dish out any nasty information she could of you to use it to her advantage, but getting straight fucking nothing from it as no one had a single bad thing to say about you— referring to you as ‘fushiguro’s girl’ and how sweet and welcoming you were even if you had just met them, how funny you were and pretty and thoughtful and hana was just sick.

had she actually lost to you? had she lost megumi? after being in love with him since the start of his contract?

she thought she had gotten your entity down. hana thought she had managed to morph herself into someone like you since she found out megumi and you were together from the tabloids— watching you and your social media postings since then to see what you had done to turn his head, megumi someone she thought would never find love until she got to him eventually.

and at this point without hana wanting to admit it, she was more obsessed with you than she was with him.

because she cared. she cared so much about everything that you did— the perfumes you wore, the ribbons in your hair, her stomach in complete utter knots watching the way megumi was with you all unfold in front of her in real time, cursing her jealous rotten eyes for how hard they fell for you and how much she worshipped all that you did.

how much megumi worshipped you.

because every time you took pictures with your friends he only looked at you, every move you made he followed after you, every time she tried to talk to him he dismissed her for you, and even every person that knew who you were at this fucking party absolutely loved and adored you.

it just wasn’t fair. why couldn’t megumi love her?

so what could she do? what else could she do?

leaning against the counter of the tiki bar, gaze fixed on megumi’s blushing cheeks and little smile with his face and button up covered in red lipstick kisses she didn’t doubt were from you, him looking at angelic you like you were the sun itself… she conquered that there wasn’t much she could do anymore.

“blue lagoon please.”

hana watched from the corner of her eye the man that just came up to the bar, bored and uninterested and on the verge of deciding to just go home, until she noticed who it was.

ino takuma.

she slightly turned her body in his direction, his eyes drifting to hers momentarily before flashing her a polite smile and looking away again.

“you’re ino takuma… with megumi fushiguro’s team right? for the mlb?”

he turned his head. “oh yes! i am. nice to meet you!”

hana gave him a quick smile.

“do you know his girlfriend by any chance? y/n?”

“yeah of course!” he grinned, a bit drunk. “she’s great. really sweet.”

god, well aren’t you just the greatest thing to ever exist?

she held back her agitation, ino receiving his drink from the bartender and slurping it down immediately.

“i actually was interested in her for a while.” he admitted with the straw in his mouth, loopy and inebriated. “but megumi got to her first… lucky guy.”

her ears perked up.

“do you still like her?”

ino thought for a moment.

“well… a little.” he pursed his lips, a very slight pink hue to his cheeks. “never got to explore it but every time we talk she’s kinda like the one that got away heh… that’s if megumi isn’t pulling her away when i try though.”

a devilish idea sparked in hana’s mind, because at this point— the woman was out for carnage.

and whether megumi ended up with her or not she didn’t care. right now? she just needed to break you both up.

“that’s kind of wrong, don’t you think?” she sighed heavily. “why don’t you try talking to her now? just you two! there’s a hallway by the other side of the penthouse that’s secluded… you’ll get a proper chance to have a conversation!”

ino looked at her like she was insane.

“megumi would actually bite my head off.”

“that’s why you do it away from him and away from everybody else!” she shook her head disappointedly. “what, she can’t be friends with you? you have every right to talk to her ino! so go for it.”

ino looked over to where you were, apprehensive as he gnawed at the inside of his cheek and actually really wanting to talk to you without megumi breathing down his neck for once… but the alcohol in his system making it hard for him to juggle whether it was the right choice or not to begin with.

“have you guys ever tried for cheer teams before?!”

you and your best friend frantically shook your heads no, excited expressions as you hung out with half of the cheerleaders from one of the top nfl teams by the dj booth.

“you should try out for ours!” one of them suggested over the music, a huge smile on her face. “seriously! you guys would do so well and you already know most of us!”

“oh my god i would but i don’t even know if i can do a split!” you whined. “if i show up i’m gonna look like a fucking idiot.”

“i’m weak i’m un-athletic.” your best friend added miserably and they laughed— a different pretty one shaking her head.

“don’t even worry about that!” she waved her hand dismissively. “i’ll literally personally talk to the coach!”

you looked at her wide eyed. “really?! wait no it’s okay! you don’t have to do that i feel bad—”

a different one stepped up. “no she’s the captain she’ll do it!”

“oh fuck!” you slapped your hands over your mouth.

“honestly?! actually?!” your girl friend exclaimed.

“our team prioritizes character over ability!” the captain spoke again. “ability can be taught, not character, and you two are the prettiest and funniest bitches i have ever met.”

you all screamed and laughed as you and your best friend shook each other by the shoulders, unbelieving that you were being scouted right fucking now by the best nfl cheerleaders out there.

“here— give me your numbers and put your emails down too—”

the captain pulled her phone out and swiped through a few apps before turning it over to you, you typing out your information on her notes app and passing it to your best friend after for her to do the same.

“i’ll contact you guys tomorrow morning!” you both nodded and thanked her profusely, her smile bright as she took her phone back and gave you both a thumbs up. “please keep in touch with me or i’ll die.”

you and your best friend vowed that you would with more frantic nods and hugs, you spinning around to face megumi as the team conversed amongst themselves for a moment.

“did you hear?!” you asked, eyes glowing and shiny with hope. “gumi did you hear?! they said— the captain— she got my number— tomorrow morning—”

megumi laughed at your hyper yet spacey behavior, nodding and smiling warmly at you as he pulled you in by the waist, not even phased in the slightest that you and your girl friend got along so well with the cheerleaders— but still a bit shocked nonetheless that you’d basically been offered a spot on the team and you only needed to finalize a few things with them.

“i did.” he gently spoke nudging your chin up, ruffling your hair then as he looked at you sincerely. “that’s really really good baby. good job getting on their radar.”

your face broke out into a gigantic smile and you quickly pecked his cheek. “thank you thank you oh my god i need a drink right now i need to calm down—”

megumi playfully rolled his eyes and released your waist. “i can go get you one.”

“are— are you sure gumi?” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “no it’s okay i can get it—”

he silently shook his head and kissed your forehead. “no baby you have fun… just stay here.”

you smiled sweetly at him and reluctantly nodded, watching him turn and walk through the crowd towards the tiki bar as you shifted your attention back to your girl friend and the cheerleaders.

“no you’re lying.”

“i’m not babe!” your best friend laughed. “they got our contact information and i swear to god they really want us to come try out.”

“holy shit.” yuji shoved his hands in his hair. “holy shit i’m gonna have an nfl cheerleader girlfriend.”

“right?!—”

“holy fuck you’re gonna look so good in those uniforms—”

“i know right?!—”

yuji and your best friend jumped up and down and cheered loudly as you giggled alongside them, your mind completely preoccupied with the thought of how lucky you just were to gain leverage and connections like that with a professional dance team at an event like this.

“we’re gonna head home in a little bit after this!” you mentioned to your girl friend after her and yuji settled, her shoulders slumping in response. “i’m just gonna get one more drink before we go.”

“lame!” she pouted. “is megumi okay to drive?”

“yes he sobered up!” you smiled. “not me man jesus christ.”

your best friend laughed and reached over to give you a hug. “okay just text me when you get to his place—”

“y/n.”

you both stopped and turned, ino takuma behind you with a sheepish smile.

“oh hi ino!” you greeted him kindly. “i didn’t realize you were here! you okay?”

“no yeah! yeah i’m alright. been hogging the bar or upstairs with some of the hockey players.” he smiled warmly. “thanks for asking.”

“mhm!” you nodded. “that tiki bar is crazy every single drink they have is so good.”

he nodded vigorously. “it’s why i’m practically shitfaced right now god.”

you laughed at his phrasing, ino realizing then that he dangerously still kind of liked you with the way he swooned a bit over your smile.

“do you wanna—” he hesitated. “do you wanna talk? over there? for a little..”

“over—” you peered over his shoulder, him pointing to the other side of the purple lit penthouse at a darkened hallway. “over there?”

“y—yeah… if that’s okay!” ino scratched the back of his neck. “it’s just kinda loud here… and i haven’t had the chance to properly talk to you in a while.”

“oh!” you nodded, thinking his intentions were purely innocent and justifiable, feeling bad yourself that you hadn’t spoken to him in some time after megumi’s practices. “yes of course! i’m so sorry ino i’ve been so busy i—”

“no it’s okay don’t!” he grinned. “it’s not your fault whatsoever i just—”

you and ino began your walk to the other side of the penthouse, your best friend and yuji shooting each other weird looks that went unnoticed by you, ino leading you away from the crowd and to the other side of the main area.

you’ve always respected and had a really great impression of ino, him never failing to be kind to you since the moment he introduced himself at the banquet way back when— helpful and genuine and not a bad bone in his body as he was a hard worker for the team and catered to all, you touched that he always took the time to greet you at least once every time you were there for megumi at his baseball events.

“how are you and megumi doing?” he asked, crossing his arms as he casually leaned against the wall of the hallway, you wringing your fingers behind your back and doing the same.

“we’re great!” you beamed. “our two year anniversary is coming up soon!”

“oh wow!” he tightly smiled. “it’s been two years already? shit.”

you giggled and nodded. “i know! time flies hehe.”

ino dismissed the slight growing pit in his stomach, the alcohol in his system obnoxiously amplifying his crush for you as he tried to simmer it down and just conversate with you while he still had you on your own.

but he didn’t think it’d be this hard— his drunk mind blurring the definitions of morality and respect as his judgement was sloppy and you were just so fucking pretty, ashamed of the way he was thinking how a bubbly sweet girl like you ended up with someone as stoic and stern like megumi, someone who was the complete opposite of who you were.

“…are you okay ino?” you spoke softly, eyebrows pinched in concern at the distant look in his eye.

“huh? oh yeah! s—sorry i just—” his cheeks heated up. “i’m tipsy don’t pay that much attention to me.”

“oh no don’t even i am too!” you laughed. “i had two drinks from the tiki bar and like four shots from the bamboo pole.”

he looked at you incredulously. “how are you standing?”

“i don’t know!” you covered your mouth and leaned forward, coming back up against the wall once you calmed down and took a deep breath. “i’m good though i’m great.”

he smiled softly. “you are… and you look really good by the way.”

you faltered a bit but quickly fixed your demeanor, knowing ino only meant that in a friendly way and completely missing the way his drunken gaze flickered to your boobs momentarily before returning to your eyes, his cheeks flaring up at what he did.

and the angel on his right shoulder was absolutely beating the devil on his left for planting two guilty images in his head then.

one imagine that was lewd and sinful and one he wanted to get rid of immediately.

and another image of what it would be like to kiss you…

just once.

“fushiguro! what can i get you?”

megumi was hunched over the tiki bar with his elbows on the counter, his eyes scanning the drink menu as he tried to decipher which drink to get you that you’d like, knowing the fruitier ones were particularly your favorite.

“um… do you have anything that isn’t strong on alcohol.”

the bartender pointed to the menu, megumi’s gaze landing on ‘jungle bird’.

“this one’s your best bet.” he took his barrel shaker out to prepare for megumi’s order. “i can also cut back the alcohol some more if you want me to.”

he nodded. “is it like— fruity.”

“yeah!” he grabbed a glass from the back. “i’ll cut back the alcohol and add more pineapple juice to it so it’s better.”

“thank you.” megumi sent him a thin smile, the bartender giving him a thumbs up before turning his back to him and getting to work, him not even realizing that hana was standing next to him at the bar.

“you getting another drink?”

megumi’s eyes flung to the source of the voice, annoyance pumping through his veins as he saw it was the same girl that had upset you, and the same one who wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone.

“yeah for my girlfriend.” he responded flatly.

hana hummed. “nice! where is she?”

“back over—”

he looked over his shoulder and stopped, instantly straightening up when he didn’t see you in the crowd anymore and worry spiking through… as he knew you were a little tipsy and naive at the moment.

“hmm… weird! actually you know what? i did see her walk away earlier!”

his gaze snapped to hers, hana thrilled since this was the first time he actually looked at her in the face.

“where.”

“with ino takuma!”

his eyes narrowed. “what?”

“yeah! i saw them talking in that little secluded area on the other side… they looked kind of cozy in there i don’t know.”

cozy?

“what do you mean.”

“mmm—” she looked up in thought. “from what i saw she pulled him to talk… and it kind of looked like she was all over him… sorry megumi. i’m just trying to look out for you—”

all over him?

oh fuck no.

megumi stepped to the side and drowned her out, squinting his eyes to try and see if he could spot you on the other side where you supposedly were until he did— you and takuma in a little corner talking and laughing, him obviously drooling over your tits and alarmingly too close to you as megumi’s jaw hardened.

it looked like he was about to fucking kiss you.

“—i would never do that to you what your girlfriend is doing is disrespectful—”

megumi moved without a single word and bumped shoulders with hana on the way, her staggering back a little and scoffing as she watched him disappear to the darker side of the penthouse.

and megumi was furious.

because how many fucking times did he have to make it obvious to takuma that you were off limits, that you had been off limits that you were never on limits? and why were you both so far away from everybody else? from him? why had you pulled him to talk? what for?

megumi understood from the get go exactly why you were so upset about hana saying absurd things to him throughout the night, but with the sight of you now pressed up against the wall as takuma was basically cornering you in, the both of you all alone and secluded and him knowing you were too helpless and nice to call out when a person was being weird— really put the situation into perspective now that the roles were reversed.

and he hated it. hated it so much.

so so much as his mind raced and spun with jealousy over another man wanting to sweet talk his girl, immense venom in his chest thinking ino was actually fucking insane for even attempting such a thing as he shoved and pushed through the stubborn crowd until he—

“what the fuck are you doing.”

megumi grabbed your wrist and tugged you behind him while he looked straight at ino, his pull a little rougher than he intended as he created distance between the two of you.

“oh— hi gumi!” you greeted happily. “look it’s—”

“did you hear what i said?”

“yeah— yup yup—” ino cleared his throat and shot back, face paling over what he almost did. “i was just um— talking to y/n.”

“talking.” he repeated. “and you were about to kiss her too right?”

“no i—” ino looked over at you. “i’m sorry y/n i don’t know what—”

“huh?” your eyes snapped back and forth between them. “gumi what do you mean—”

megumi jerked his head down in your direction. “did you pull him for a chat or did he pull you?”

you shrunk back a little, your boyfriend’s usual gentle eyes now sharp and crazed and one you had never seen from him besides through particular tough games on the field.

“he— he pulled me but why does it matter—”

“why does it matter?”

his head shot back to ino, gaze narrowing.

“what the hell did you think you were gonna get out of this?” he spoke harshly. “taking her over here away from everybody else? away from me?”

“fushiguro—”

“so i wouldn’t see right?” he stepped forward and you quickly grabbed his button up from the back. “so i wouldn’t see you try and sweet talk her and change her mind? to take advantage of her? knowing she’s too nice to say no?”

“no man i would never.” he shook his head. “never i—”

“you’re full of shit.” he spat. “you think i’m an idiot? you think i don’t know what you were just about to do with her?”

“gumi stop it—”

you tried to come around his frame but he only pulled you back behind him.

“megumi— i’m sorry man i really am i’m drunk right now and—”

“so you think that makes it okay for you to try to make a move on her?” he shook his head in disbelief. “she’s in a relationship with me ino. we play on the same sports team what the fuck are you doing?”

“i— i don’t know—”

“you still like her then?”

what.

“no i don’t—”

“don’t bullshit.”

ino ran an exasperated hand down his face. “okay fuck a little!”

“well that’s too damn bad!” megumi shot back. “get your own.”

ino felt horrible.

fushiguro was right. everything he was saying was absolutely right and he had never felt so much shame as he looked at stunning you through the cracks of megumi’s arms, for he not only fucked up his friendship with his teammate, someone he works with, but with you. a person like you an utter loss if driven away— him more than sure that that’s exactly what he did just now.

and what compelled him to do this in the first place? he couldn’t remember anymore.

“fushiguro punch me.”

megumi looked at him bewildered while you gasped, frozen in place.

“huh?”

“sock the shit out of me right now.”

“m’not gonna do that idiot even though you deserve it—”

“no do it right now i’m serious and we’ll call it even.”

megumi rolled his eyes. “go home takuma—”

“do it or i’ll kiss y/n—”

megumi instantly reeled his fist back and knocked the fuck out ino’s jaw, blood boiling and chest heaving over what he said as you slapped a hand over your mouth in shock, ino hunched over with a hand on his face.

“thanks.” he choked out.

“we’re not even dingus.” megumi mumbled. “but go home.”

ino nodded, sending you one last apologetic look before stepping away from the two of you and down the hall until he was out of view.

“what the fuck was that—”

“did he try anything else?” he cut you off.

you looked up at him, trying to peer around his shoulder at his face. “n—no he didn’t he didn’t try anything—”

“he didn’t try anything?” he turned around, brows furrowed. “baby— he was staring at your tits and he tried to kiss you.”

“how?!” you exclaimed, genuinely confused. “we were just talking and—”

“why did you go with him when he pulled you to talk.”

you blinked. “because it’s ino. he’s a friend i didn’t think anything bad of it…”

“you didn’t think anything bad of him taking you to some dark fucking place without anyone else around?”

“i—i’m sorry gumi.” you gnawed at your bottom lip, it registering in your dumbass brain now how shady ino’s request was to talk to you in the middle of an empty hallway. “i didn’t…”

“you didn’t?”

he stepped forward and your eyes widened as he backed you further and further up against the wall, lips coming down next to your ear as he placed his palms flat next to either sides of your head.

the logical and empathetic part of megumi’s brain was yelling at him not to utter his next few words, that he ran the risk of deeply upsetting you and ripping open the bandaid of what you two had previously just cured… but the rest of his brain and entire fucking body and soul was livid.

livid at takuma for taking advantage of your kindness, livid at him for thinking he could successfully pull the shit that he pulled while you were naive and sweet, and livid at every single god damn man in this building for preying after you like a piece of meat and like he wasn’t just standing right there next to you with a hand on your hip.

and megumi was gonna flip it back on you… his anger completely misdirected as he was delirious and fucked off after the events of today and wanted to rile little you up— afraid to admit that he was shaken at the fact that he could’ve potentially lost you to someone as respectable as takuma, for as stupid and shitty and drunk as he was earlier… ino wasn’t a bad person in the slightest.

you matched better with someone like him.

and he didn’t like that at all.

“what if hana had pulled me here hm? to a place where nobody else was around..?”

your brows furrowed.

“w—what—”

“what if she was the one to pull me in this dark empty hallway to try and kiss me?”

you swallowed, jealousy and venom swirling in your chest as you breathed out shakily through your nose, a picture perfect image of the stupid scene megumi was describing sending a sting of agitation through your insides as you narrowed your eyes at him, his hidden underneath the front pieces of his black spiky bangs.

“why are you telling me this.”

he didn’t respond, his splayed out hands balling up into fists.

“do you get off to this? is that what’s going on?”

the tremor behind your voice and your shaking shoulders broke him out of his dark clouded fog and he straightened up, regret hitting him like a brick once he noticed your teary eyes and angry furrowed brows.

“shit i’m sorry i’m sorry—”

you snatched his wrist and yanked him with you out of the hallway, him stumbling behind you as he sputtered out apologies and pleas for you to turn around, for you to look at him as you pushed your way through the crowd back at the main penthouse area.

“pretty baby please i’m so fucking sorry—”

you said nothing, and anxiety welled up in his chest, wondering where you were going and if you were crying as he tried to nudge back and stop you, you only pulling on him harder as you reached the stairs of the main area.

a drunk random guy made himself known from the crowd and leaned over suddenly, his eyes wide and comically bewitched by you as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

“oh my god— you are so beautiful!”

you looked at him rattled as you tried to get away from his strong grip, megumi’s mind over the fucking edge at this point as he grabbed his wrist and jerked it off your shoulder with such a force that it sent him tripping over his feet.

“the fuck do you think you’re doing moron?!”

“oh is she your girl?” he put his hands up defensively. “my bad she’s hot—”

megumi lunged and you quickly wrapped your arms around his torso to pull him back, wrestling with him as you dragged him up the grand stairs of the penthouse.

“baby let me go.” he spoke firmly and out of breath. “let me go right now—”

you ignored him as you tugged at his wrist again and continued up the stairs, him clamping his mouth shut and shitting himself, ashamed of his temper and the behavior he’d been exhibiting left and right as he was sure you were about to break up with him once you found the appropriate setting to do it in, his eyes cast down to the ground and filled with remorse.

you speed walked down the wide hall, pumps clacking against the shiny tile flooring as you opened several doors before you found a vacant bedroom, dragging him in and slamming the door closed behind you with the click of a lock, the music from downstairs now a distant vibration through the walls.

and megumi kept rushing out apologies, trying to explain himself as you turned and closed in on him at the edge of the bed, shoving him down and climbing over him in a straddle as his words got caught in his throat, looking up at you with round eyes.

“baby..?”

he watched you lean back and slowly, tenderly, undo each and every cross and knot from the front of your corset, your little cupid wings long gone now as your gaze stayed glued to his, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth in a little smile.

megumi cautiously propped up on his elbows, observing the way your soft tits spilled out of your corset as you gracefully undid it entirely, throwing it next to you and tilting your upper body down to his level sensually while his heart pattered against his chest— his lips reaching and connecting with the side of your neck as he placed slow open wet mouthed kisses alongside it, licking after each one before starting anew.

he breathed in sharply through his nose then and pulled away. “wait— baby first i’m sorry okay? i’m so sorry—”

“be quiet gumi.” you murmured against his jaw, trailing little sucks and nips at the skin as his eyes fluttered closed, him nearly missing how you tugged your mini skirt off and left yourself with just your lacy panties on top of him— rubbing your pussy teasingly over his clothed cock.

“fuck.” he breathed out, his trembling hands undoing his button up as he hastily sat up and shook it off his shoulders, tossing the white cotton material somewhere in the room and enveloping you in his arms, desperately sucking and biting over the flesh of your tits and nipples as you moaned so sweetly in his ear.

you pressed your pussy down hard on his crotch, megumi moaning with a mouthful of tit as he sat back on his elbows again and rode his hips up to meet yours, obsessed with the way you looked on top of him now with your thigh high socks on and pretty little face— unsure of how the events from earlier led up to this moment but choosing not to question it whatsoever, eyelids blissfully closed as you ran your hands up and down his chest tenderly, rutting on him.

“i wanna fuck you gumi.” you pouted, and megumi swore he saw stars. “take your pants off—”

his hands dived for the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with the buckle of his belt and chest moving rapidly as he hurriedly unclasped it, slipping it off and tossing it to the other side of the room— you swinging a leg off of him so he could kick the rest of his clothes off, megumi grabbing you and settling you back over his lap once he was bare.

you tugged your panties off and sat your puffy lower wet lips on his aching cock, sliding over it deliciously and slowly before lifting and lining his dick up with your hole, sinking down on him as megumi’s eyes rolled back at the feeling.

“you like it baby?” you huffed as you bounced on his dick. “does it feel good?”

megumi lustfully nodded as he reached to place his hands on your waist, you slapping them away and his eyes flying open in response— eyebrows pinching.

“wait—” he bit back a moan as you started going faster. “let me—”

“touch me and i stop.”

“what?” he shook his head. “no don’t do that—”

he reached for you again and you slapped his hands away.

“i said no gumi.”

what the fuck?

megumi reached again and you straightened up on your knees, his dick slipping out of you and landing with a heavy thud on his lower tummy as his breath hitched.

you got off his lap and his eyes widened, disbelieving that you were actually being serious as he confusedly watched you pull the red lace from your corset, tossing the rest of it somewhere and moving further on the bed with your knees.

“sit up on the headboard.”

megumi dumbly blinked.

“do it or i’m putting my clothes back on and going downstairs—”

he shot up and propped his shoulders and head up on the metal frame, you coming around and swinging a leg back over him as his mind went into a fucking frenzy over the way you were acting, too in his thoughts to notice that you had tied his wrists to the metal bars with your lace, eliminating his privilege of putting his hands on you.

you scooched back down and mushed his cheeks up with your fingers, pecking his puckered up lips and smiling innocently.

“be good.”

“baby— fuck!—”

you shoved his cock back inside you and he choked, you picking up your previous brutal pace as he heaved and tugged at the lace in a horny sweat, never in his life seeing you like this as his skin physically itched and burned to touch you with every bounce of your pussy on his length, your cunt so warm as it strangled the life out of his dick and milked it, your tits bouncing in his face and the view of your ricocheting ass a straight up torment to him as he continued to pull frustratedly on the lace.

“let me touch you baby please— hah!—”

“nope.”

“please pretty i’m so sorry i’m sorry for everything that i did!”

his body trembled as you pistoned down on his cock, hiccups coming from his throat as his hips pathetically lifted from the mattress to compensate for not being able to feel you up, overstimulated tears at the corners of his eyes.

you whimpered and licked your lips delightfully at how good he felt and how he was whining for you, making him pay back for everything he did and said tonight as you leaned down and licked a long stripe up his chest to the side of his neck.

“holy shit—” heave “holy shit—”

you sat up on your knees and let his dick fall out again, megumi’s eyes bulging open and jaw dropping at the sudden stop.

“put it back in.” he panted. “i beg you please put it back in—”

“hmmm… i don’t know…” you rubbed your pussy over his cock, noises sticky and squelchy as you pondered. “i think i wanna stay just like this!”

you leaned down and gave him a wet kiss on his cheek.

“baby listen to me.” he looked at you desperately as you pulled away. “i love you i love you please untie me—”

“you love me?” you grinned.

“more than anything—”

“didn’t seem like it all those times you hung out with hana!” you shook your head disappointedly. “why don’t you keep hanging out with her and talking about her and throwing it in my face yeah? maybe ask her to get you off.”

“n—no baby i’m sorry i don’t know why i did that—”

“and since you like hanging out with her so much, i’ll go and hang out with ino.”

he stilled.

“huh?”

megumi’s chest picked up speed as he roughly tugged at the lace, your words already riling him up with the mere mention of you with somebody else.

“mhm! maybe i should slide my pussy over his dick just like this—”

“the fuck you just say to me?”

“—and let ino fuck me and bite me and suck my tits—”

megumi yanked and the lace snapped in two, tackling you and throwing you face down on the bed as he hauled your ass up and smacked it hard, receiving a yelp from you.

“is that what you want?” he plunged his dick inside of you and you cried out, going off balance from trying to lift yourself with your hands and dropping back down by the force. “you wanna be a slut and replace me?”

he grabbed a piece of the torn up lace and joined your wrists behind your back— hastily tying them together and securing it roughly, hooking his hands on the underside of your elbows and wrenching you up.

“gumi!—”

“you gonna do that to me baby?” he hammered his pelvis against the fat of your ass while holding you up at an arch, the bend giving megumi the leverage to absolutely demolish your insides while he fucked you. “you gonna break my heart like that?”

“no!” you sputtered, high pitched whimpers from you filling his ears. “i would never!—”

“uhuh, sure.” he panted, letting go and throwing you down on the sheets below to grip your hips— slamming them back to meet his in such a brutal pace that tears of ecstasy were streaming down your face, your cute pitchy moans mixed with your hiccups and sobs thrilling him sickeningly at the moment, for megumi was too far gone and in a state of animalistic and scary need for you, wanting you to remember that you’d always be his.

“you’d never yet i find you all alone with another man?”

“gumi i’m sorry!” you hiccuped. “i’m so s—sorry—”

megumi reached over and meanly pinched your wet cheek.

“i don’t wanna fucking hear it.”

he looped his fingers through the lace and pulled you up again, wrapping one arm over your shoulders under your chin and the other over your tummy as he enveloped you, dick splitting you open so fucking good that drool seeped from the corner of your mouth— megumi’s tongue coming out to lick it up alongside your tears and you squirming and pouting as he did.

“i bet ino wants to play with your pretty little pussy like this huh?” he spoke softly in your face, eyes crazed and wild as you jerked up and down. “i bet every single fucking guy at this stupid party wants to play with what’s mine right? and you’d let ‘em? you’d do that to me baby?”

you sniffled and whined. “no gumi!— hic!— i love you i wouldn’t—”

“i’d kill for you baby…” he whispered in your ear, nose nuzzled in your hair as your breath hitched.

“so be careful who you talk to yeah?”

megumi threw you back down and broke the lace again with two hands, your arms springing apart freely as he flipped you on your back and spread your pretty thighs, cock lining up, thrusting in and drilling as he hovered over you and kissed you so sloppily— majority of it the sloshing of tongues as you moaned into each other’s mouths and made a wet drooly mess.

“gumi— can i— pant— can i cum please please—”

he shivered at your begging as he trailed his lips to your cheek and gave you a kiss, hips rapid and curt as he felt his cock on the brink of spilling.

“you wanna cum on my dick?”

you licked your lips. “mhm! please.”

so sweet.

“yeah?”

“uh huh—”

“cum— hah— all over my dick baby s’okay—”

“guummiiii!—”

your orgasms flooded through both of your bodies like a white flash, you as a pair completely fucked out and sweaty and abused as megumi’s cum drained into your pussy, hot and droopy as his hips continued to absentmindedly rut his cum back inside of you while you were both borderline checked out with pink cheeks and dewy skin.

megumi was the first to come down from his high, his fogged half lidded gaze looking at your pretty face and pressing multiple small kisses along one side of your cheek, coaxing your little mind to come back from la la land as you stirred and whimpered.

“you okay?” he whispered, and you weakly nodded, sending him a cute tired smile.

“i think—” he sat up and moved a few strands of your hair away from your eyes, mumbling. “i think i was too rough baby i’m sorry…”

“what you just said was a sin.” you spoke flatly and he chuckled, you shifting to curl into his side and wrapping your arms around him, face hiding in his chest.

“…are you mad at me.”

his eyebrows pinched, a soothing hand running up and down your back. “no, never.”

megumi sighed deeply and stared up at the ceiling. “that should be my question to you…”

you lifted your face from his chest and looked at him. “why would i be mad at you gumi?”

“for everything.” he mumbled. “everything i did.”

you giggled, his heart instantly flooding with warmth at the sound as he clutched you tighter.

“but you didn’t do anything baby.” you kissed his collarbone. “everything you did i would’ve done exactly the same and maybe even worse.”

you played with the hems of your knee high socks. “but i shouldn’t have gone with ino gumi i’m really sorry... i genuinely just thought he wanted to catch up as friends… not that he— you know. i didn’t even know that until today.”

and megumi already knew it was exactly just that— your precious kind self trusting ino with everything you had, trusting a friend, that you weren’t considering any of the logistics that could consider a request like his shady.

but he was still so bothered in that moment. and he regrettably couldn’t help it, usually being able to swallow jealous tendencies whenever they appeared, but completely losing it seeing as you were so close to being disrespected like that.

and one issue after another and another made him shamefully insane for a little.

“no baby i know you don’t have to explain.” he answered gently. “i acted like a fucking psychopath today man.. i can’t tell you how sorry i am.”

“oh absolutely not.” you scoffed. “your reactions were so justifiable gumi…”

you looked at him. “you were frustrated and so was i. it was only natural for us to start having a fucking meltdown… but we had it together! right?”

megumi laughed a little and nodded, pulling back to look at you as you grinned.

“we just matched each others freak is all.”

how you managed to make every sour situation better and funny no matter the circumstance, was one of the millions amongst other things megumi loved most about you.

“i’m also trying to say that you don’t have to worry so much about me gumi…” you mentioned. “i can defend myself if i need to okay? i love to hit a man that deserves it.”

he playfully rolled his eyes and smiled softly at you, nodding and accepting your words but them having absolutely no effect, as he was going to continue to worry over you until his very death bed and beyond— that being a promise.

because from the second that you blessedly agreed to be his two years ago, megumi’s job was to worry about you and take care of you, to love you as he silently promised to you over and over again that he would try his hardest to keep you happy— happy with the life that he has given you as your man, and happy with him so that you’d keep wanting forever with him like he so badly wanted with you.

hana was nowhere to be found after you and megumi went back downstairs— not that either of you cared in the slightest as you gathered up your tiki mugs, bid your best friend and yuji goodbye and left the party as fast as you could, eager to get to his apartment and snuggle up under the covers with the warmth of each other’s bodies gently lulling you both to sleep, something megumi had been looking forward to all night and content once he finally got his wish.

and even after the roller coaster of events that happened at the halloween party, the both of you were happy and healthy and laughing about what had happened a couple of days later— you over at his apartment in bed with him during a rainy lazy november day, pajamas and fuzzy socks still on even though it was well past morning already, and with the smell of cookies baking in the oven from the recipe you had made together just for fun to partake in fall activities for the month, the two little pumpkins you had carved silly faces in earlier today with megumi sitting side by side cutely on his dining room table and ‘in love’.

“i say we run down the street right now in our pj’s.”

“baby it’s pouring outside.”

“so?” you pouted, crossing your arms as you sat there straddling his lap. “and then we can kiss in the rain!”

he smiled softly. “you’ll get sick though.”

“and so will you so then we can be sick together in your bed and have sick sex how about that—”

megumi threw his head back and laughed, the crinkle in his eye one you adored so much as you giggled alongside him and traced absentminded figures on his chest, his hands squeezing and caressing over your thighs lovingly.

“your audition is next week right.” he murmured. “for the cheer team.”

“mhm!” you nodded sweetly. “i’m sick to my stomach.”

he snorted, eyes flickering to yours amusedly. “you really shouldn’t be baby. it seems like they really want you and your best friend in.”

“yeah but—” you paused. “what if when i get there and they see me look like a fucking idiot they change their minds? or i talk their ears off and i get banned? or what if i ruin—”

“you’re not gonna get banned.” he chuckled. “just do your best okay… and i already know you will. trust me.”

you grinned, leaning down and peppering little kisses all over his rosy flushed face.

“you’re so niiiceeee gumi my goodness!”

he playfully rolled his eyes, the little smile on his face unwavering as he looked at you.

at his future.

“close your eyes.”

you stopped. “huh?”

“close your eyes.” he squeezed your thighs reassuringly. “i have a present.”

you gasped. “really?! holy fuck wait okay—” you covered your eyes with your hands. “okay okay i’m ready.”

you heard the opening and closing of a drawer, giddy and excited on his lap as he shuffled through a few things that you weren’t sure of.

“can i open nooww?”

he laughed a little. “hold on baby.”

“maaann—”

“okay now you can—”

you ripped your hands away from your face and you froze.

megumi had the prettiest black ring you had ever seen in your life in between his thumb and index, shiny and dainty as it had a cute black little heart in the middle to complete the piece, holding it out for you with flustered cheeks as he looked to the side.

“gumi…”

“it’s a promise ring.” he peered up at you. “do you like it.”

“a—” your eyes snapped to his. “a promise ring?”

he took your left hand that was on his chest and raised it, gently sliding the ring over your ring finger as you sat there in utter shock, him letting go and you slowly retracting your arm with your gaze locked on the stunning jewelry piece.

megumi had the ring hidden for months and dumbed around looking for the right time to give it to you… a time that was perfect and meaningful and intimate as he took it everywhere he went for that time— hidden in the crevices of his duffel bag during practice, stuffed in the pockets of his jackets or sweaters, and even the day of the party, his fingers playing and running along the smooth little heart while you had gone to change into your costume in his room, embarrassingly afraid and nervous over what you’d say even though he knew he didn’t need to be.

“i—” he struggled, you looking at him so sweetly and patiently as he tried to get his thoughts together.

“remember… when we went on that trip to the mountains with my dad… the car ride coming back?”

you quickly nodded. “i do.”

“and when you said that… you thought about us married.”

you blushed furiously and you nodded again, a silly shy smile growing.

“i was serious when i said i did too.” he stared up at you sincerely.

your eyes softened, your fingers lightly grazing over the ring, feeling it.

“i want a life with you..” he mumbled. “i want you to know and remember that… that i love you and i promise you soon it’ll happen. and on days where you’re not happy with me that i’d do anything for you so we can fix it.”

megumi never messed around when it came to you, and you were the one thing he never wanted to lose or let go.

he could live without and lose his car, his apartment, his things his fucking career and he still wouldn’t give a shit as long as your pretty face and smile was still by his side through it all— for you were the thing he absolutely couldn’t live without and would rather swim in boiling scalding water than experience it happen first hand.

megumi softly pinched your cheek. “i want you in my life forever pretty baby.”

your lip wobbled. “you do?”

he nodded, reaching into the collar of his hoodie and tugging out a silver chain with a black ring looped through, his heart beating through the roof as he held it up for you to see.

“i got a chain for it so i’d still be able to wear it under my uniform on the field.”

oh how you fucking melted at that, thinking over how megumi was so dedicated, so committed to the things that mattered most to him, and you couldn’t believe still sometimes even after being with him for two years and him always making sure you knew— that you were one of those things.

and you loved him.. so fucking much as you sniffled and covered your face, leaning forward to lay on his chest as megumi’s eyes softened and arms came to wrap around your body.

“i’m so happy i met you gumi.” you whispered in between your sobs, those words alone sending a spark of emotion through his body, feeling his eyes oddly and ever so slightly prickle.

“i’m so happy i met you baby..” he murmured, hand lifting to pat and smooth over the back of your head. “don’t cry..”

you sniffled and wiped your eyes, feeling so warm and safe under megumi’s arms as he kissed your wet cheeks and carded your hair away from your face, silently so loving as you settled down.

“i’m always happy with you gumi okay…” you spoke. “i’m never not happy. ever. and i’m so fucking thankful every single day that you love me as much as i love you and that i get to keep you.”

he breathed out a little laugh through his nose as you sat up, his glimmering lovesick eyes on you, you smiling.

“i want you in my life forever too baby.” you murmured, playing with the chain on his neck and fiddling with his ring. “i always have.”

megumi smiled, the feeling of joy and love so potent in his chest that he didn’t think a feeling so strong like that even existed or was supposed to happen to him.

but you made it happen. you never failed to make it happen.

his happiness.

“i wanna have your babies.”

megumi choked at your sudden comment, arm flying up to cover his coughs with the crook of his elbow as you giggled uncontrollably at his reaction.

“what?! it’s easy we just do what we already do now except i skip a month on my pill and you cum twice in me instead of once—”

“baby!—”

“i’m kidding!” you snickered over the furious blush on his cheeks, tapping his pinky nose. “i’m kidding i need to be a cheerleader first and then you can impregnate me because i know you want that so bad—”

“oh my god—”

“—and maybe you should cum inside three times actually because third times the charm and i feel like—”

megumi suddenly flipped your positions and tackled you down, lifting your top to reveal your tummy before digging his fingers into your sides and tickling you all over, you thrashing and gasping for air as you laughed loudly and tried to get away from him, him stuffing his face in your neck and nibbling obnoxiously.

“i’m sorry! please stop! gumi— eeekkk!”

“no.”

“i’ll do— i’ll do anything!—”

“no.”

you giggled and gasped. “gummmiiii!—”

days like this with you were megumi’s greatest days.

he didn’t need anything else. just you and your giggles and your smiles, your sweetness and your talkativeness as you brightened up his life in every single aspect, coated all of its tribulations with sunshine and warmth as you proved to him everyday still how beautiful life could be if he just let it.

and as ludicrous as the party was with bamboo shots and cheerleaders, tiki bars and shitfaced players and certain individuals literally trying to pull you both apart… you still loved it. an experience you were glad that you shared with together and barely had to make the effort to talk about and fix because there was nothing to fix.

you and megumi always understood each other, two souls on the same wavelength that ebbed and flowed in the same direction and in the same form always— a privilege that you never once clashed against each other so much so that it destroyed the natural flow of your currents.

because this sea was much different than the dark and torturous one he was in by himself all those years— the one he was in before he met you.

this one was sparkling and crystal blue, luke warm to the touch and fun as he didn’t mind the saltiness of it getting into his eyes, because somehow it never burned when it did, resolving itself quickly and gently and the waves themselves never making him feel like he couldn’t breathe but alive instead, and all while swimming and nurturing it kindly with you as he made sure that you never got tired or unhappy with it— never got tired or unhappy with him.

and all of that was a definite promise— resembled in the ring that sat pretty on your finger.

to look after you. to support you. to love you.

to make you happy.

always.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @stilettoheelz @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever @yoonights @skendos @babylambdietcoke @yunstarz @dinomdubs @kalulakunundrum @s777athv @sugoroo @wastednightsonyou @miri222 @jayawaya @dazailover4ever @courtneedsleep @kcch-ns @halovianembrace @rhaitanis @kayamor @mirophobic @aylinnhealsformeow @zeesturniolo @arionater

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

THE HELL YOU MEAN YOU GOT A GIRL ?

summary : in which Tim's brothers find out he not only has a girlfriend but she's actually real and attractive and idk dating HIM of all people ???

Tim Drake is a busy man , his family knew that I meant come on ?? The kid is Red Robin, juggling Wayne Enterprises , solving cases, and not mention he attends college.

Not in a million years would they guess he of all of them would have a girlfriend and that he of all of them would have a functional relationship before any if them.

It started subtle at first - he'd finish patrol early , not really a big deal since they'd all assume he was busy with school and just had to go home.

Well truns out he was going home just not to do work just to simply have dinner with you.

The next sign was that he had a picture of you at the back of his phone - it's encased safely behind the clear casing . Dick saw it at first and shrugged it off, thinking it was a kpop idol or some model Tim liked alot - nope it was just him being in love with you and just showing it off.

Tim unironically smells better ? Damian doesn't know how to place it - its not that Tim ever smelled bad or had bad hygiene it's just that he's been particularly very into it as of late - he literally even has a skin care routine now but Damian writes it off as Tim being curious or weird.

Tim also starts dressing classier too like he wears good slacks or nice baggy jeans with fitted tops - showing off his slim but muscular figure as of late - he even asked Jason to borrow one of his old leather jackets and hey - Jason didn't mind lending his brother one - he just thought Tim was getting into the grunge style like him. Nope, it turns out Tim overheard you saying guys in leather jackets were hot, so of course, he had to get the real thing.

Flash forward to like a year and a half down the line and one day all three of them were talking about how Tim was glowing up and getting himself in shape .

Dick : " you know Tim's been idk dressing up as of late ".

Damian : " smh it's like he's pathetically trying to impress someone "

Jason : " I thought he was just idk changing his style ?"

Dick : " you think ? Plus he's been ending patrol early lately"

Damian : " he's a nerd Grayson , knowing him he gets home earlier to study or what not ".

Jason : *cackling* " and he wonders why he can't get a girlfriend "

*Tim who just walked in and overheard jason* : " I literally have a girlfriend. What do you mean ?"

Pin drop silence . Everyone stares at him, eye wide and then they burst out cackling.

Jason : " Timmy boy a blow up sex doll doesn't count a girlfriend"

Dick : *laughing* " Tim the day you get a girlfriend is the day the world would end"

Damian : " Timothy, that's the best joke you have ever uttered."

Tim scowls at them , " I LITERALLY HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND SHES A REAL PERSON"

Damian *still laughing* : " Alright Timothy, let's meet your so-called very real girlfriend."

Flash forward to two hours later and they're at a local Lego shop at the mall , the batboys are all confused .

Jason : " Tim, when we said a real girl, we didn't mean a Lego woman figure"

Tim just rolled his eyes - annoyed because he can't fathom why they didn't think he can't have a girlfriend .

Not even two minutes passed, and you bolted out of the store and engulfed Tim in a big hug and began kissing him all over his face. Tim wore a big , smug smile as he wrapped his hand around your waist and pressed you a forehead kiss.

Dick's mouth is too the floor , Jason's eyes just widen so big you'd swear his eyes will roll out and Damian looks like he's gonna hurl.

Damian : " I think - I think I going to die "

Jason *still in shock* : " There is no way this is real - literally no way I've got to be imagining shit "

Dick : " Someone pinch me " *Damian pinches him hard* " OUCH WHAT THE FUCK"

Jason points at you and then at Tim , " Miss is he holding you hostage -"

Tim rolls his eyes , " SHES MY GIRLFRIEND"

Damian tuts , " She's too hot to be with the likes of you she should date someone better "

Dick : " Like me -"

Shutting him down immediately, Tim : " Fuck no"

You awkwardly laughing , " So you're Tim's brothers ?"

Jason : " unfortunately ". *dick nudges him hard* " OW WTF"

You : " It's nice to meet you all I'm Tim's girlfriend "

Dick : " yeah that's the part we are all processing"

Damian : " Are you sure you're not talking about another tim?"

Tim , scowling : " Shut the fuck up demon she said she's my girlfriend so can yall stop being so annoying now "

You : " They didn't think you'd have a girlfriend ?"

Tim : " no and I don't know why especially since they themselves don't have one either "

Jason : " in my offense I died -"

Dick : " Pack it up. It's been 4 years since you came back. You got no excuse "

Jason : " I know the man who has fumbled every relationship he touches is not talking "

Damian : " This is all pointless. Love is stupid and worthless"

As the both continue to bicker back and forth, you turn to Tim with a wide grin , " Who do you think is worse ?"

Tim , pulling you in closer , : " Definitely Bruce "

*in a very far distance*

You laugh as you grab his hand and left him off somewhere , " Let's go get milkshakes".

Bruce *sneezes* : " Someone is trash talking me "

ty for reading !!!

[purifiedclitoris69]

Statements

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Shield agent!reader

Summary: Assumptions are made about the relationship you have with Natasha, so you took it upon yourself to make a statement :)

Your relationship with Natasha is built on years of trust, mutual respect, and an unspoken understanding that comes from living in the shadows of espionage. You met when she first joined SHIELD, and while she was still finding her footing within the organization, you were already established as a specialist sniper—someone who worked alone, took the impossible shots, and disappeared before anyone even knew you were there.

At first, your relationship was purely professional. You recognized each other as dangerous and highly capable, but there was always a quiet pull between you. Over time, through shared missions, late-night debriefs, and the rare moments of quiet in a world full of chaos, that pull became something more. It wasn’t dramatic or rushed—it was a slow burn, a natural evolution of two people who understood each other better than most and yearned to show one another a genuine love.

Now, after almost 3 years together, your bond is unshakable. While the Avengers see you around the compound, they don’t truly know the depth of what you and Natasha have. They assume your relationship is casual, just a convenience in a life full of uncertainty. But in reality, Natasha loves you fiercely, and you love her just as much. You’re her safe place, the person she trusts with the parts of herself she doesn’t show anyone else. When the world feels too heavy, she turns to you—not for protection, because she doesn’t need it, but for the rare comfort of knowing she’s not alone.

You don’t need grand gestures or constant declarations. Your love is in the quiet moments—the way she always finds her way to you after a mission, the way you instinctively reach for her hand under the table, the way she relaxes against you when no one is watching. To the outside world, you might just be another agent who occasionally lingers at the compound. But to Natasha, you’re home.

—————————-———

Wanda was the first to recognize the depth of your relationship.

It was early—early enough that most of the team was still asleep or barely functioning. The compound was quiet, save for the soft hum of the coffee machine in the kitchen. You stood by the counter, leaning against it, eyes still heavy with sleep as you waited for the coffee to finish brewing.

Natasha, still in her sleep shorts and one of your old SHIELD t-shirts, wandered in with a yawn, her hair slightly tousled from sleep. She didn’t say anything as she approached—you felt her presence before you saw her. Without hesitation, she walked straight into your space, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face into your chest.

"Mm. Too early," she mumbled against you.

You huffed a quiet laugh, your hand instinctively coming up to rub slow, soothing circles on her back. "You say that every morning, but you’re always up before me."

She hummed but didn’t respond, just tightening her grip around you as if she could steal some of your warmth. You didn’t mind. In fact, moments like this were your favorite—the ones where she let her guard down, where she wasn’t the Black Widow or an Avenger, just Natasha, just yours.

Neither of you noticed Wanda standing by the doorway, frozen mid-step. She had come in for coffee but stopped in her tracks at the sight of Natasha—fierce, guarded Natasha—melted completely against you.

Wanda had always assumed your relationship was casual. Everyone had. You weren’t around often, and Natasha never entertained deep conversations about her personal life. But standing there, watching the way she clung to you, the way your hand moved over her back with the kind of practiced ease that spoke of years of familiarity, Wanda realized they had all been wrong.

This wasn’t casual. This was love—deep, unwavering, and so achingly real.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but eventually, Natasha stirred, tilting her head up to look at you. "Coffee ready?"

"Almost," you murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. The gesture was so gentle, so natural, that Wanda almost felt like she was intruding.

Before Natasha could move away, you leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her forehead. "Go sit. I’ll bring you a cup."

Natasha didn’t argue, just gave you a sleepy, content smile before releasing you and making her way to the kitchen table.

Wanda finally decided to make her presence known, clearing her throat as she stepped fully into the kitchen. "Morning," she greeted, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips as she grabbed a mug and you unpromptedly filled it for her greeting her with a kind smile and filling Nat’s next, starting another pot for anyone else who might want it.

Natasha, already seated, just raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Wanda glanced between the two of you, then just shook her head, her smirk widening. "Nothing. Just... you two are cute," she blew on her coffee.

Natasha rolled her eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. Meanwhile, you simply handed Natasha her coffee before grabbing your own along with d the morning crossword, completely unfazed.

Wanda took a sip of her drink, still smiling to herself. Maybe the rest of the team had been blind to it, but now she knew the truth—Natasha Romanoff was hopelessly, completely in love.

—————————-———

The next person was Steve. You had gone on another lengthy mission; it had kept you away for weeks longer than either of you liked. You had kept in touch when you could, brief calls and cryptic messages, but it wasn’t the same. And now, finally, you were back.

Steve wasn’t looking for either of you when he entered the common room. He had just been passing through, planning to grab something from the kitchen before heading to the gym. But as soon as he stepped in, he stopped in his tracks.

The lights were dim, the soft crackle of the old record player filling the space. An oldie—something slow, something familiar. And in the center of the room, barely swaying to the rhythm, was you and Natasha.

She was pressed against you, arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders, her fingers idly playing with the hairs at the back of your neck. Your hands rested on her waist, holding her close as if you needed to feel her warmth to believe this moment had finally come after weeks of waiting.

Neither of you spoke. There was no need. The way Natasha clung to you, the way you held her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, it said everything.

Steve had never seen her like this. Sure, he had seen her care about people, had seen her protect and fight for those she loved. But this? This was different. This was Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, completely at peace. Safe. Home.

He felt like he was intruding on something sacred, so he took a quiet step back, turning to leave—only to nearly bump into Bucky.

“what’s with the face?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at the look on Steve’s face.

Steve exhaled, shaking his head with a slight chuckle. “Nothing, just—” He glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at Bucky. “You and Sam better stop checking Nat out so much.”

Bucky scoffed. “What? We don’t—”

Steve gave him a knowing look.

Bucky shifted. “Alright, maybe Sam does. I just—y’know, appreciate a good—”

Steve cut him off. “Don’t.”

Bucky smirked. “Okay, but why the sudden warning?”

Steve shook his head again, that small smile still lingering. “Because they’re in love. Like, really in love.”

Bucky frowned. “I mean, yeah, I figured they were serious, but—”

“No,” Steve interrupted. “Not just serious. Not just together. In love.”

Bucky studied him for a second, something unreadable passing over his expression before he nodded. “Alright,” he said simply.

Steve gave him a final glance before clapping him on the shoulder and walking off, leaving Bucky standing there, a little quieter than usual.

Because if what Steve was saying was true, then it wasn’t just Natasha they had underestimated. It was you.

—————————-———

The true statement was made in the compound gym.

The gym was alive with movement—punching bags swinging, the clatter of weights, and the rhythmic sound of fists meeting training dummies. You had just finished some shooting drills when you decided to swing by, knowing exactly where Natasha would be.

Sure enough, there she was, moving like a force of nature. Every strike was precise, every kick sharp. She was a sight to behold—dangerous, powerful, and effortlessly graceful.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought so.

You noticed Sam and Bucky standing off to the side, arms crossed, observing her with a little too much focus. Eyes tracked her every movement, and while you weren’t necessarily the jealous type, and were well aware how gorgeous Natasha is; people couldn't help but be enamoured by her, however weren’t about to let this slide.

You strolled up beside them, tilting your head. "Enjoying the view?"

Bucky, to his credit, immediately raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, don’t look at me. I was admiring the technique, alright?" He nodded toward Natasha. "She’s one of the best fighters I’ve ever seen."

You eyed him for a second before nodding, accepting the explanation. Bucky was a lot of things, but he wasn’t dumb enough to cross that line.

Sam, however—

"Look, I’m just saying," Sam started, his eyes still trailing Natasha as she wiped sweat off her forehead. "It’s not my fault she moves like that. That’s a distraction."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Sam glanced at you, then seemed to realize way too late that he had just said that to the one person who could make him regret it. "Uh—"

"You know what?" You rolled your shoulders, tossing your towel aside. "I feel like I haven’t sparred in a while. What do you say, Wilson? A little one-on-one?"

Sam hesitated, looking between you and Bucky, who just took a step back, clearly enjoying the fact that he wasn’t involved.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Sam asked, crossing his arms. "I mean, no offense, but I’ve got wings, I’ve fought aliens—"

"You’re standing here watching my girlfriend train. I just want to see how you train too." you cut in, smirking.

The room went silent for half a beat before Bucky let out a low chuckle. "Oh, this is gonna be good."

Clint grinned, nudging Wanda. "Five bucks says Sam regrets this immediately."

Natasha, who had been too focused on training to notice the exchange earlier, finally turned toward the group, eyebrow raised. "What’s going on?"

Wanda smirked. "Your sniper just challenged Sam to a sparring match because he got caught staring at you."

Natasha let out a small laugh, tossing a towel over her shoulder as she walked closer. "Oh, I have to see this."

Sam exhaled, shaking his head. "Y’all are ridiculous. But fine. Let’s do this."

You stepped onto the mat, rolling your shoulders as Sam joined you. He gave a cocky smirk. "You sure you wanna do this? I am pretty fast, you know."

You just smirked back. "We’ll see."

Steve, ever the responsible one, clapped his hands. "Alright, keep it clean."

The second Steve gave the go-ahead, you moved—fast.

Sam barely had time to react before you were already in his space, effortlessly dodging his first strike. You didn’t just block—you controlled. Every punch he threw was sidestepped. Every kick, redirected. You weren’t just fighting Sam. You were toying with him.

The smirk on his face started fading as frustration crept in. "Damn," he muttered, throwing another punch. You caught his wrist, twisting him off-balance before sweeping his legs out from under him.

Sam hit the mat with a grunt.

From the sidelines, Bucky let out a whistle. "That looked like it hurt."

Clint was grinning beside Nat.

Wanda shook her head in amusement. "He walked right into that one."

Sam groaned but pushed himself back up. "Alright, alright—lucky shot."

You didn’t respond. You just motioned for him to try again.

This time, he put more effort into his attacks, but it didn’t make a difference. Every move he made, you were already three steps ahead. You parried, countered, redirected—all with ease.

After a few more humiliating takedowns, Sam finally dropped to the mat, breathing hard, lying flat on his back. "Damn. Alright. Message received."

You crouched down beside him, grinning. "Good. Maybe next time, you’ll keep your eyes to yourself playboy"

Sam exhaled, closing his eyes. "Noted."

You stood up, offering him a hand. He took it, groaning as he got to his feet. "You really don’t like people looking at her, huh?"

You shrugged, "I know she can handle herself, I just felt like making a statement today," you smiled stepping off the mat and walking to Nat

"Possessive looks good on you," Natasha said with her signature smirk

Without a second thought, you grabbed her by the waist and kissed her—really kissed her—right in front of everyone. It was slow, deep, and left no room for doubt. Natasha, normally composed, melted into you, gripping your bicep to steady herself.

When you pulled back, she was a little breathless, a rare blush dusting her cheeks.

You smirked. "See you at dinner, love."

And with that, you walked off, leaving Natasha still catching her breath.

Clint let out a low whistle. "Damn."

Wanda smirked. "That was a statement,” Natasha throwing a towel at her, mumbling out a whatever and heading to the lockers

Bucky clapped Sam on the shoulder. "So, you still gonna stare?"

Sam rolled his eyes taking a tired seat on the bench "I hate you all."

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

🧃 How to Develop a Vibe AND a Plot (aesthetic doesn’t cancel arcs. let’s balance them.)

hey you. yes, you. the one with the moody playlists, the 73-tab Pinterest board, and a half-written draft that just keeps…vibing in circles.

if you’ve ever written 10k of immaculate vibes but couldn’t tell anyone what your story is about, this post is for you. because here’s the thing: ✨ aesthetic is not a substitute for stakes. ✨

let’s talk about how to keep your ✨vibes✨ and actually have a plot that moves. no ✧ fluff ✧ just structure, character arcs, and some lovingly blunt advice from your local writeblr gremlin (me).

🌊 1. aesthetic is a result, not a premise

the most common mistake i see is starting with a vibe as the story. like:

“sad girls on the beach in 1996”

“a cursed forest full of dead gods”

“a pastel academic rivalry with secrets and sexual tension”

cool. great. love that for you. but… what’s the story? what’s happening?

✨vibes = setting + mood + tone. ✨plot = choices + consequences + change.

your aesthetic can inspire the story (please keep making playlists. i love them). but don’t confuse the feel of your world with the function of your plot. start with tension. stakes. character flaws. emotional damage. that’s the engine. the aesthetic is the paint job.

🎯 2. define your “emotional throughline”

okay, so you’ve got an aesthetic. what’s the emotional core of it? your plot should orbit a single emotional question, like:

will this character ever let themselves be known?

what does it take to unlearn loyalty?

is love worth destroying something sacred?

start with that. then attach aesthetic scenes to it.

🧩 pro tip: aesthetic scenes are more powerful when they contradict or complicate your emotional throughline.

ex: your story’s about loneliness? show them at the loudest, busiest party. story’s about grief? show them smiling in photos while everything breaks behind the lens.

aesthetic is stronger with irony. contrast. juxtapositions. don’t just bathe the reader in vibes. weaponize them.

💥 3. let your aesthetic hurt your characters

whatever your aesthetic is--soft academia, vaporwave horror, regency witchcore, don’t make it just a backdrop. make it an obstacle.

your setting should create problems. friction. conflict.

if it’s a sleepy coastal town: what’s festering beneath the quiet?

if it’s a hauntingly beautiful forest: what does it take from people?

if it’s a cursed mansion: what happens to the girls who stay too long?

every time you design a pretty place or moody visual, ask: ❓ how does this setting test my characters’ beliefs or desires?

because then your aesthetic drives the story forward instead of just decorating it.

📚 4. develop plot like a playlist: structure the escalation

your aesthetic playlist has structure, right? (don’t lie. i know you’ve got a specific song for act 3 heartbreak.)

plot works the same way. it’s not a mystery. it’s escalation.

you want a structure? here’s a dead-simple one:

give your main character a desire (internal & external)

give them a reason they can’t have it (flaw, fear, lie)

make them try anyway (rising stakes)

make it cost them something (midpoint shift)

force them to change or break (climax)

let that change play out (falling action / resolution)

that’s it. apply that structure to your vibey little story and suddenly it’s a book.

👁‍🗨 5. plot is what they do - vibe is how it feels

don’t choose one. you can have both.

you can have a soft lighting scene on a rooftop and the secret betrayal reveal. you can have dreamy prose and broken character dynamics. you can give me worldbuilding so lush it smells like petrichor and rot and still give me a plot twist that leaves me feral.

you just need to be intentional.

every scene = a purpose. every aesthetic = an angle. every image = tied to stakes, desire, or change.

✨ that’s the difference between “ooh pretty” and “oh my god i can’t stop thinking about this story.” ✨

💌 so in conclusion:

start with an emotional arc

let your aesthetic scenes earn their place

make your world fight your characters

escalate, escalate, escalate

and stop hiding a lack of plot under “vibe” like a glittery throw blanket over a broken chair

you’ve got this. now go write the beautifully messy, aesthetic and emotionally devastating story you were meant to.

i believe in you.

🧃rin t.

P.S. I made a free mini eBook about the 5 biggest mistakes writers make in the first 10 pages 👀 you can grab it here for FREE:

[flwrkid14]

Learning to Be Someone's Favorite

braindead version of this post

Tim, of course, would never believe that he could be anyone's favorite person.

Tim doesn’t expect anyone to like him—not right away, not even eventually. He’s learned to approach every new connection with the quiet, sinking knowledge that the best he can hope for is tolerance, and the worst is outright disdain. It’s not paranoia, not in his mind. It’s pattern recognition.

People don’t dislike him on purpose, not really. But Tim knows what he is—a little too sharp, a little too obsessive, a little too much. He doesn’t have the warmth Dick has, the easy charisma that draws people in. He’s not raw passion and magnetic energy like Jason. He’s not Cass’s quiet strength or Damian’s undeniable presence.

Tim is… there. Functional. Useful. And if people don’t like him, that’s fine. It’s not like he’s giving them much reason to.

Which is why Danny throws him completely off balance.

At first, Tim doesn’t know what to make of the guy. Danny just… shows up one day, cracks a joke, and slips into Tim’s life like he belongs there. He’s ridiculous and charming in that obnoxious, impossible-to-hate way that makes Tim’s head spin. And he stays. That’s the strangest part. Danny keeps showing up—at the Cave, during patrols, sometimes in Tim’s apartment with no warning, casually eating cereal like it’s completely normal.

Tim keeps waiting for the catch. People like Danny don’t stick around for people like him, not once they get to know him.

But Danny stays.

And not just stays. He latches onto Tim like it’s second nature, treating him like a gravitational center. Danny always seems to know when Tim’s burning the candle at both ends—he’ll show up uninvited with coffee and snacks, throw Tim over his shoulder (literally) to force him to take a break, or just plop down next to him and start chatting away about nothing until Tim feels the tension in his shoulders loosen.

Danny likes him.

The realization hits Tim like a sucker punch one night after a particularly grueling patrol. They’re sitting on a rooftop, splitting the last of the takeout Danny insisted on ordering, when Danny leans back and says, casually, “You know you’re my favorite, right?”

Tim nearly chokes on his noodles. “What?”

“You’re my favorite person,” Danny repeats, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He grins, bright and unbothered. “I thought you knew that.”

Tim stares, unsure what to say. It doesn’t feel real—he’s used to Danny’s teasing, but this isn’t that. Danny’s just... stating it. Like it’s fact. Like Tim is the kind of person anyone would ever call their favorite.

His first instinct is to reject it, but he doesn’t. Not outright. Instead, he files the comment away, tucks it deep into the place where he hides the things that scare him most.

After that, Tim notices the way Danny treats him. How he never seems to prefer anyone else, how he always seeks Tim out first, how he lights up when Tim enters a room. It’s overwhelming, and terrifying, because Tim’s used to relationships being conditional. He knows how easily favor can turn into irritation, frustration, dislike.

Tim starts to tread lightly. He keeps himself carefully controlled around Danny, terrified of making the wrong move. He goes over every word they exchange, second-guessing himself constantly. The last thing he wants is to push Danny away—or worse, turn that bright, unwavering affection into resentment.

But Danny doesn’t seem to notice Tim’s cautiousness. Or if he does, he doesn’t care. He keeps showing up, keeps throwing an arm around Tim’s shoulders, keeps calling him his favorite with a grin and a wink. He stays.

And slowly—so slowly Tim doesn’t even notice at first—he starts to believe it.

Danny Fenton thinks Tim Drake is the coolest person in the multiverse.

And maybe, just maybe, Tim is finally starting to think it’s not a mistake.

[amfstargirl]

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

Standing in the yard, dressed like a kid, the house is white and the lawn is dead ⋆·˚ ༘ *

You stood firm on the ground, eyes stern and unwavering. In front of you was a place all too familiar—the "shelter" where you grew up, the house that had been your home for five years of your childhood. As you stood there, memories flooded your mind, both the happy ones and the melancholy ones. Your eyes roamed around the place, taking in every detail before you finally decided to enter, lest anyone mistake you for some kind of lunatic loitering outside someone's house.

As your feet mindlessly carried you into the room, a heavy, shaky sigh escaped your quivering lips. It hadn't even been five seconds since you entered, yet you already felt the urge to cry. Oh well, that's what memories do to you. You gently caressed the dirty white wall adorned with your old, fading doodles. Most of them were pink—your favorite color then and even now as an adult. You smiled sadly as the memories of your time in the house flooded back, making you nostalgic. You scoffed sarcastically at the irony that you missed this place more than the manor where you'd spent a longer time.

Perhaps it was because the old you—the innocent, sweet, and pure one—was still within these thin walls that had sheltered them through all the bad times. You could feel their giggles and laughter lingering in the air. Tears streamed down your face as you stared at every sticker, doodle, and writing spread across the walls. Somehow, you cried out of joy, relishing the fact that the child you left behind in this house was still here in some way. Still innocent, still unaware of the harm the world could do.

In the manor, all the love you ever knew came from the man who introduced himself as the family butler but whom you soon came to know as your father. He was the love you craved and begged for at Bruce's feet. He fed you, took care of you, and taught you the things you needed to know. He attended family days, PTA meetings, and other events that your biological father should have been at. Under Alfred's shelter, you did everything you could to try to level with your siblings' talents—learning acrobatics, martial arts, drawing, baking, and more.

Yet it was Alfred who, in the dead of night, under the whispers of the cold wind whipping past your teary face, assured you that you would never need any of those skills to truly earn your family's love. All you needed was to be yourself. You allowed yourself to believe his words and lived them as your truth for a short time, but soon gave up on the idea, accepting that they wouldn't truly see you.

Now, dwelling on your lingering past and memories outside the manor, you remembered those you knew before coming to live with them. You reminisced on the thought of your mother. You remembered her.

You remembered how poverty ate your mother away and that she couldn't provide necessary needs for you but you, sweet, beautiful, angel you never complained.

You remembered how much you loved those barbie shows and movies but couldn't afford the dvds and even a proper functioning television so you sometimes watched it from your window across your neighbors, and while watching you saw a glimpse of their life. Their happy, perfect family life. How they cuddled their daughter and watched those silly barbie movies together. Your eyes softened as you thought "I wanted that" the little you hoped that maybe one day momma will get better and finally love me. Your tears poured from your eyes at the thought.

You remembered while you were doing your homework alone, you heard a whimper outside your window near the alley. As you peeked your tiny head outside, your hair flowing with the cold, harsh wind, your eyes searching for the source of noise. As you let your gaze travel through every corner of the alley, you saw a dirty, poor puppy whimpering, alone, calling out for its mother, its father, anyone. You ran hastily outside and collected its tiny and fragile form gently in your arms. "I'm here, I'm okay, you're safe," you whispered softly to the creature. And from. That very day you fed it and kept it sheltered secretly from your mother. You named her Amara. It suited her. You didn't have much play mates so you sometimes play with her by the yard where you and her would either run together or lay down. You never really got to say goodbye to her. From "that" moment on, you never got to go back to your house. You wondered how she was. Was she well fed? Did she think you abandoned her? Does she miss you? The guilt of living her ate you up the longer you dwelt on the past. You shook your head and sighed, trying to forget about all of it. You mourned every version of you. And this was your most treasured one. Thinking back on all the memories you had of the old you, of her. You thanked them for being so forgiving, for being so brave, for being so content with what she had, and for never trading anything for it.

They Were such a kind soul. And you're glad that they gets to stay where they were the happiest despite the nightmare they endured those days. You will always look up to them. They were and will always be a part of you. You took one last look at the house, the drawings, the dirty corners of the room, and released a breath as you closed your eyes. This was it. You'll finally get to say goodbye-

Whimper

You froze as you heard a familiar whimper. You turned around and slowly walked towards the opened door, and you saw her. Amara, your friend. You can't help but let the tears fall as her once brown fluffy appearance is now old and grey. You wondered how even in the light of old age she somehow still seems so youthful. She was still your baby. With a shaky voice, you tested the name. "Amara...?" she wags her tail in delight as a response to the familiar name she's been waiting to be called for so many years. You kneeled down and gently caressed her. "Oh, baby. You've been waiting for me, haven't you?" she whimpered as if answering you. You noticed her trying to catch her breath and her body growing weaker. You glance at her tail and see its wagging has become more frail and slow. You glance at your eyes, and you know. You smiled at her and whispered, "It's okay, baby. You can rest now." Her face weakly lit up, and she slowly closed her eyes, calm and loved, finally in your embrace.

After some time, you tenderly wrapped her body in a blanket. You carried her to the yard where you both used to play together as kids, a place where you ran freely without a care in the world. Borrowing a shovel from a tenant in the apartment, you buried her there, in the spot where you both were the happiest.

You whispered silent prayers for your companion and left with the memories. This was it. You've made your peace with the old you. Almost. There was one more thing you have to do.

You used believed that your mother could have been so much more. She was a beautiful woman. Smart, even if other would beg to disagree. But, you knew that she knew how to play her cards right to get what she desired for. She would have been so powerful if she used her sharp mind to something much more.. Productive. Yet she chose to sleep with men, abandon her child, and let herself be eaten by poverty and lust. Well, you didn't really mind if she abandoned you. You've always felt like you were the burden, the barrier to her way of succeeding and the chain locked onto her feet, keeping her from truly running away to what she has become. You've seen it in her eyes, the thought of running away and living a new life, but when she looks at you.. She saw a mistake she could never be freed of. A mistake. If only you weren't born, she would have been so happy.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink. "Ma'am?" the nurse asked. Suddenly, you were back to reality. You blinked again, processing her words. You glanced at her expectant expression and blurted out, "Y-yes, yes, uhm. Yeah. I'm ready." She smiled and said, "Great. Let's go this way, ma'am." You followed her hurriedly, not wanting to test her patience. As you walked, dissociating and thinking of all the possible outcomes, the nurse suddenly stopped in front of a room and said, "We're here. You can enter now." You nodded and thanked her silently.

Facing the door, you chanted in your mind, "You can do this," with a mix of determination and uncertainty. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled and opened the door. There she was—your mother, in all her glory. Bare-faced and vulnerable in her comfy hospital gown. You almost choked on your saliva, seeing her this... bare. You had always seen her so filtered, her face adorned with colors, her clothes tight and bright. Awkwardly, you shifted in your place and slowly sat beside her bed as her gaze followed your every move. You cleared your throat, preparing to speak, but she beat you to it.

“I know you.” you widen your eyes at her as she continues “you're my child.” you weren't shocked at the fact that she acknowledged you but the fact that she called you Her child, and the softness in her eyes. You were starting to think that maybe this isn't your mother, because she never looked at you like that. Never in years of living together has she even glance at you.

She chuckled at the sight of your confused and shocked state, bringing you out of your thoughts. "What? Shocked? Of course, I still remember you, Y/n," she weakly said, her voice small and quite different from the harsh tone she used to yell at you with. You inhaled sharply, trying to stop your tears from falling. What the heck? Were you about to cry again?

"I thought with how much resentment you harbor for me, you would have forgotten about me by now," you smiled sadly at her, watching her face drop slightly but still smiling weakly.

"Oh, Y/n," you almost crumbled right then and there. Oh, how much you had longed to be called so sweetly by your mother's voice. "I never hated you... that much," she said bitterly, and you stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I just wasn't born to be a mother, no—at least not in this life. I'm a mess and I always will be. And I'm sorry I couldn't change for you because nothing can and nothing will change me anymore."

Your lips frowned at her words. "I always thought that maybe you could have been better without me," you said. You miss her, and you will always miss her. She was your whole world, but now seeing her and talking to her made you realize her world was clearly much different from yours. Her world was something one could not escape. You knew you couldn't live like that, and it seems that she cannot live any other way. They said that a mother and children exist as wretched mirrors of each other. You were all she could have been and she was all you might have been.

She closed the distance between you and embraced you for the first time. "You never were. It was me. I was the problem. You were just a child. In another life, I would've been able to care for you." You didn't question her on why she couldn't do it in this life because you knew. You knew she didn't have the capability to be a good mother and a morally good person now, and that was okay. You couldn't live with The fact that she will never truly care for you and will always hold secret animosity towards you if you force her to be a mother to you. You closed your eyes for a minute and silently took in the feeling of a mother's embrace for the first and last time.

"This is the last time you're ever gonna see me again," you said. Your mother chuckled bitterly and replied, "I know. Good for you, kid. Leave everything behind and start anew. You deserve it."

You soon moved out of her arms and held her hands tightly, looking into her eyes. With a deep exhale, you walked out of the hospital. This was it—you were finally free from your past. You had made your peace with it, and now it was time for you to move forward. You knew that if you didn't confront the horrors of your past, they would haunt you for the rest of your life. You had made a good choice.

As you stepped outside, the cool breeze greeted you, and you felt a sense of liberation wash over you. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. It was as if the universe itself was acknowledging your newfound freedom. You took a moment to breathe in the fresh air, savoring the feeling of lightness that now enveloped you. Walking down the street, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. The city seemed different somehow—brighter, more alive. You noticed the little things that you had overlooked before: the vibrant colors of the flowers in the park, the laughter of children playing, the distant hum of traffic. It was as if you were seeing the world with fresh eyes, unburdened by the weight of your past.

For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace. The past no longer held you captive. You were free to live your life, to pursue your passions, and to surround yourself with people who truly cared for you. It was the beginning of a new chapter. You get home to your apartment and sit at your couch grabbing some blankets and making hot cocoa. You thought to yourself that this is what you exactly needed. Watching barbie movies in your new cozy apartment without any burden past onto your shoulders, the little you would have been so proud, making you smile at the thought. This was it. Nothing was going to stop you now.

That's what you thought.

It has been 2 weeks since you've moved in your apartment and you're getting ready for your ballet rehearsal. You were especially excited about this as you were going to perform swan lake when you got to enact one of the most important and famous characters, how cool was that? As you were about to grab your pink bowed pointe shoes a sudden “ping!” notification was heard from your phone. You turned your head and went to grab it expecting a message from one of your close friends or even your ballet mates but all you were met with was a message from a person you least wanted a one from.

Dick. Your supposed older brother is asking you to hang out with him. At this very moment. You dropped your phone and stared at nothing while breathing heavily. You feel your heartbeat rapidly breathing, the knot in your stomach growing more tighter and tighter each minute you let the thought sink into your brain. You almost tripped at your foot as a result of your vision disfigured, as if you were looking through a fish-eye lens. This wasn't right, this wasn't supposed to happen. When-how?-why?! Why was this happening now? You were only starting to feel like everything in your life was finally starting to go your way. Why did this have to happen? It was as if the universe was mocking you. You bit your lips until it bled but you couldn't care less. You were numb. You hadn't even realized that you were nowate for today's rehearsals. With trembling hands you reached for your phone and shakily pressed the button “block” as you silently prayed that he-they would never come in contact with you ever again.

Of Course that wouldn't happen though. The universe was never really on your side.

Dick? What's happening here?

A sudden deep voice spoke, bringing Dick out of his deep trance. He turned around and saw his father standing outside the door, looking suspiciously at him. He stared at his father and saw the look on his face—full of confusion and unfamiliarity, not towards him but the room he was in. "I-it's Y/n," he stuttered, the name tasting so sweet on his tongue. He wanted to roll around in the scent of you. Was that weird? No—he just missed you, that's all.

"What about them?" Bruce's voice carried a nonchalance that almost made Dick angry. How could he be so indifferent about his precious sibling? With a hard voice, Dick replied, "They're gone." Bruce's eyes widened slightly at the response. What did he mean you were gone? You were just here when... Wait, when? He worriedly glanced at Dick, and as if understanding, Dick answered, "I know."

Bruce inhaled sharply and stepped inside the room, your lingering scent greeting him. Your trophies adorned the walls. This was your room? No, it couldn't be. This was too little. This was just... not it. The difference between his other childrens bedrooms and yours was so noticeable. You didn't have any fancy chandelier decorating yours. You didn't have your own bathroom.

Bruce's eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail. The neatly arranged trophies, the faded posters on the walls, and the small bed that seemed too empty now. He walked over to the desk and picked up a framed photo of you, when was this? You look so.. Grown? How old were you? Were you old enough to live alone? How come he didn't know? Did you have a job-were you even allowed to have one? he clenches his fist as he stares at the sight of your image and sees your bright smile. His heart ached at the sight. How had he missed this? How had he not noticed the signs?

Dick watched his father, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He wanted to scream, to demand why Bruce hadn't paid more attention, why he hadn't been there for you. But he knew he wasn't any better than his adoptive father was. Besides, it wouldn't change anything. The damage was done.

Bruce set the photo back down and turned to Dick, his expression a mix of regret and determination. He saw the tiny diary and other papers scattered across the floor and picked them up, reading them one by one as he slowly spiraled into regret and guilt. Dick watched as he knew this was going to make him understand. Today made it all clear to him. Why there was a nagging feeling inside of him saying that there was something missing in the manor. It was why the sweet muffled music of the orchestra haunted the manor, the same kind of music haunting their bedroom. Like it was a reminder, a warning. That something special was lost. The soothing sound of humming, light footsteps around the manor now gone. The pink bows tied around the handles of the stairs, the love that the plants receive now nowhere to be found. It was because you took that love with you.

"We need to find them," Bruce spoke, his voice steady but filled with urgency. His knees bounce as his Jaws tighten anxiously.

Dick nodded, his resolve matching his father's. "We'll find them," he replied, his voice firm. "And we'll make things right."

As they left the room, Bruce carrying the framed image of you tightly, almost as if he was paranoid that something would take it from him, and dick gently running his thumb through the texture of your pink, bowed, bright diary, the weight of their mission settled on their shoulders. They knew it wouldn't be easy, but they were determined to bring you back. The silence of the manor was a stark reminder of what they had lost, and they were ready to do whatever it took to make amends.

Bruce was anxious. He didn't have a plan. Ironic, because Batman always had a plan. It was an unspoken rule—Batman was always prepared. But now, he found himself at a loss, his mind racing with uncertainty. Perhaps it was because he knew every single person in Gotham. As the guardian of Lady Gotham, he prided himself on understanding the intricate web of connections and motives that defined the city's inhabitants. He calculated every person's actions, paid attention to every detail, and watched from the heart of Gotham.

He paid extensive attention to everyone... except you.

It wasn't intentional. He had always been consumed by the weight of his responsibilities, the never-ending battle against crime, and the need to protect the city. But now, standing in your room, surrounded by the remnants of your presence, he realized his failure. The irony of it all struck him—Batman, the meticulous planner, had overlooked the most important person in his life.

Now he was desperate, he may not have a plan but he was desperate. He'll do anything to get you back. Any possible way to get back all the times he failed you, when he failed to be a father to you. He swore to protect you and never let you out of his sight ever again.

Dick wasn't any better. As he walked, his thoughts played tricks on him, but in a way he almost relished. His mind insisted that you must be so scared without him, without your older brother to protect you. He didn't even consider the possibility that you could be an independent, fully functioning individual on your own, or the fact that you had grown and most likely abandoned the thought of "bonding" with him. In this moment, his mind was consumed by the image of you and the curiosity of what more you had within yourself that he had neglected. His anxiousness grew, causing him to bite his nails and run his hands through his hair in frustration. His breathing became ragged, and his heart pounded in his chest. It was as if he had turned feral, his bloodshot blue eyes itching to be blessed with a vision of your face.

The more he thought about it, the more his mind played tricks on him. He imagined you scared and alone, wondering why your older brother wasn't there to protect you. He couldn't bear the thought of you suffering because of his neglect. His thoughts raced, each one more frantic than the last. What if you were hurt? What if you were in danger? What if you had given up on ever reconnecting with him?

The guilt gnawed at him, making it hard to focus on anything else. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed you, that he had missed so many opportunities to be there for you. His heart ached at the thought of all the moments you had spent alone, craving the attention and love that he hadn't given.

As he continued to walk, his thoughts became more erratic. He imagined you thriving without him, having found your own path and your own sense of independence. The possibility that you no longer needed him stung, but it also filled him with a strange sense of pride. You had grown, despite everything, and that was something to be admired.

Still, his mind couldn't rest. He needed to see you, to know that you were okay. The uncertainty was driving him to the brink of madness. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists, determined to find you and make amends.

he wouldn't rest until he saw you again.

Both Bruce and Dick disregarded everything around them, unaware of the curious look Tim gave them. He followed quietly behind their backs, raising an eyebrow as he wondered why they hadn't noticed his presence yet. Normally, these two were incredibly guarded, so Tim was shocked by their lack of awareness. What could have made them so unfocused?

Bruce—the Batman—and Dick—the first Robin and now Nightwing—were both engrossed in a particular object. They seemed to be completely absorbed, their usual vigilance overshadowed by their intense fixation. Tim watched as Bruce's eyes remained glued to a framed photo on the desk, his expression a mix of regret and determination. Meanwhile, Dick's gaze was fixed on the pink notebook in his hands, his fingers gently tracing the glittery cover.

Tim couldn't help but wonder what was so important about these items that it made two of the most vigilant people he knew drop their guard. The framed photo of you, smiling brightly, seemed to hold Bruce in a trance, while the pink notebook, adorned with bows and glitters, seemed to capture all of Dick's attention. They were so consumed by these objects that they had let down the walls they had built through years of vigilantism.

It had to be something incredibly significant—something better yet, special.

“What are you two doing?” asked Tim, suddenly breaking the silence between the three of them as he watched the father and son duo flinch, obviously flabbergasted at his sudden interruption at their deep trance. He observed as their face turned from shock to going back to their frowning faces making him mirror the same expression. Dick clenches his jaw and exhales sharply preparing himself to speak when he is suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice he would always recognize.

"What is going on here?" a figure with deep forest-green eyes asked, standing tall in the shadows, his cold demeanor unwavering. Dick's eyes met his, and he said his name. "Damian. Wha—"

"You have deliberately abandoned your promise to train with me today. Why?" Damian's voice was sharp, full of accusation. Shoot. That was right. Dick had forgotten to train with his younger brother today. But it didn't matter now; his other sibling needed him, and it was about time they knew about them too. He glanced at Bruce's unfocused state, feral and restless.

"It's about Y/n," Dick said firmly.

Tim stood still for a moment, trying to figure out who "Y/n" was, while Damian immediately sneered at the mention of his "rival." He couldn't pinpoint why your presence angered him so much. Maybe it was because he had to share the title of being the Wayne heir with someone so... normal, someone so far below his level. You both were so different. Perhaps he was jealous of you for being so normal, for not having to worry about tainting your hands with blood and painting others black and blue. What did you even do? He didn't know, but he bet it was something a normal civilian would.

Meanwhile, his peripheral vision caught Tim standing still, deep in thought. Damian saw him processing quickly, his mind running fast as he tried to figure out who you were and why you were so relevant at the moment. Then suddenly—aha! Tim remembered now! You were the kid who had pestered him non-stop about some game.

Tim's eyes widened as he recalled the memory. The realization hit him like a wave. He had been so dismissive back then, but now he understood the significance. Guilt washed over him, mixing with curiosity and concern. What had happened to you? Why were you so important now?

Damian's sneer softened slightly, replaced with a look of contemplation. “What about them?” asked damian. While Tim wondered the same. Suddenly Bruce's cold and deep voice said “they're gone.” Damian raising an eyebrow of his response, and Tim answering “gone? Gone how?” switching his gaze from dick and Bruce's form awaiting for one of them to answer his question as the tension in the room thickens. “I mean that they're gone. All their things not found in their room, no trace of them not in the mansion, and not even a goodbye.” Tim and Damian frowned at the same time. Damian scoffed and thought you were probably just making a big scene so the attention would be on you. Bruce said “we need to find them. Now.” his voice left no choice for them to abide by his command.

Now alone in the CCTV room, Tim let his bored gaze wander over the footage from a long time ago, his palm supporting his head. Suddenly, something caught his attention. He watched as you sat, his fingers tapping the keyboard to increase the volume. You hummed lightly at the footage, a simple gesture but not to him. Your voice was so familiar to him. His eyes dilated as you continued humming, your voice sweet as honey, as light as a mother's touch trying to lull her baby to sleep.

He zoomed the footage closer and closer, almost as if he wanted to go through the screen just to hear your sweet, angelic, melancholic voice. Your voice was like a soft fur blanket to him. He didn't know if he was hallucinating from sleep deprivation, but he swore you were covered by a soft light, hugging your form and kissing your skin gently.

Tim sat in your "presence" for a bit, soaking in your voice. As he listened, memories flooded back. He recalled distant muffled sounds within the thin walls, lulling him to sleep, chasing away the demons that kept him awake at night. He had so desperately wanted to close his eyes and rest, and he remembered thinking maybe it was just a voice in his head, or maybe a real-life angel offering him salvation from suffering and the sweet pleasure of sleep. Now he knew, the angel was called "Y/n."

His fingers tightened around the edge of the desk as he leaned in closer, his breathing steadying as he watched the footage. The realization hit him hard. How had he missed this before? How had he not recognized that comforting voice? The gentle humming, the presence that had brought him solace on sleepless nights—it was all you.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to watch, his heart aching with a mix of regret and longing. He remembered the nights he had spent tormented by nightmares, the countless times he had struggled to find peace. Your voice had been his lifeline, a beacon of hope in the darkness.

He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. How had he been so blind? How had he not seen the importance of your presence in the manor? Tim's thoughts spiraled as he recalled the moments he had dismissed you, the times he had been too wrapped up in his own world to notice you reaching out. He needed to see you. To hear your voice, to take you back, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness as his forehead kisses the cold, dirty floor, or to maybe steal you back without a word. He didn't know, he just had to see you.

The footage continued to play, your voice a soothing balm to his troubled mind. He sat there, never unwavering, always in awe of your voice and never taking his attention off you. He sat there,Unaware that he had been playing the same footage for hours and hours. His dilated eyes worshipping you as if you were a god.

He felt a deep sense of loss, realizing that you were gone, and he hadn't even had the chance to thank you for all the nights you had unknowingly saved him. Determined, he knew he had to find you. He had to make things right.

After some time, finally. Tim's resolve hardened as he stood up, his eyes never leaving the screen. He would find you, and he would make sure you knew how much you meant to him. With renewed purpose, he left the CCTV room, ready to join Bruce and Dick in their search. Together, they would bring you back and rebuild the bond that had been neglected for far too long.

With much focus on the object of his obsession attention, he failed to notice a tall figure in the shadows, watchin. Thinking after all these years they have finally come to their senses, realizing the greatest gift of all was right under their noses.

Damian was a dangerous person. To be fair, he was raised to be an assassin and an heir to the throne from the moment he was born. Not even a moment out of the womb did he catch a glimpse of the normal life he so desperately wanted. He trained day and night, month after month, year after year, to become the perfect product of the world's greatest detective and the daughter of the king of assassins. Imagine the inner turmoil within him when he didn't meet the expectations set upon his shoulders. All his life, all he knew was to fight. In any situation, his first instinct was to fight and guard himself for his life.

Sometimes, he wondered how they expected a child to lead thousands of assassins to create a bloodbath. Behind his pride and arrogance was a deep-seated anger towards those in charge of his fate. He was furious that his innocence had been stripped away, clawing its way back to him, but ultimately, they succeeded in giving him a future burdened with the weight of guilt for painting the young and innocent red.

Damian's upbringing left him with a constant battle within himself. The expectations placed upon him were immense, and he often felt like he was suffocating under the pressure. The relentless training, the unyielding discipline, and the need to prove himself consumed his every waking moment. The anger he felt was not just directed at those who shaped his fate but also at himself for not being able to escape it. Many didn't know of it but he found it hard to be Robin. The conflict between leaning to your instincts or “your- now- morals” was hard. To kill and to save was wrong and somehow to save and to forgive was right.

Despite his impressive skills and abilities, there was a part of him that longed for something more—something normal. He envied those who lived ordinary lives, free from the burden of bloodshed and violence. He wondered what it would have been like to have a childhood filled with laughter and innocence rather than combat and survival. As to why he wonders what more could you possibly want? He was so sure that you had so much wonderful time living such a luxurious life in the manor and never having to prove yourself to be worthy of something in being able to get the object of your desire. How could you run away from this life? From your life? You were so unfair, so selfish.

As he continued to grapple with these conflicting emotions, Damian's exterior remained cold and guarded. He rarely allowed anyone to see the vulnerable side of him, the side that yearned for a different life. But deep down, the scars of his past lingered, a constant reminder of the life he was forced into and the innocence that was stolen from him.

He shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and released a heavy sigh. What a bother. Making his way to every corner of the manor to "inspect" and see if you had left any trace of yourself there. As he walked down the path, letting his bored state guide him, he glanced at the thick walls and noticed some unfamiliar works of art. His gaze roamed around the room, settling on various paintings he had never noticed before. It was as if the paintings spoke for themselves, screaming out for anyone to notice and appreciate them. The different textures, colors, shapes, and stories behind the art captivated him.

Damian liked to think that he noticed everything and had the ability to be highly aware of his surroundings, whether he was familiar with them or not. But at this moment, he paused, questioning himself. If he was truly aware, how had he managed to overlook these breathtaking canvases filled with bright colors that made him... feel things? He took a step forward and saw a tiny signature on the left side of one of the canvases. He brought his hand up to softly caress the painting, gently and carefully, as if he were afraid that a mere touch could destroy it.

Engrossed in admiring the paintings, he failed to notice the tall figure beside him. It was only when the man spoke, "Master Damian," addressing him, that he flinched slightly.

"Ah, Alfred. My apologies, I was a bit distracted by the art adorning the walls, which seems to be... unfamiliar to me. Would you mind telling me where my father keeps buying these paintings? I must say I'm quite... impressed."

Alfred frowned and smiled sadly at the youngest Wayne. "Well, Master Damian, these paintings are actually not your father's doing. Rather, they are Master Y/n's work of art."

Damian's eyes widened in surprise. He turned back to the paintings and said "Y/n did these?" he asked, almost incredulous. The realization that you had created such beautiful and meaningful art struck him deeply. He didn't even know that you could draw much less create such.. Beautiful art. While he was thinking about it he realize that he had complimented you, you!

"Indeed, Master Damian," Alfred confirmed. "Y/n spent countless hours creating these pieces. Each one holds a story, a piece of their heart."

Damian felt a pang of emotion through his chest, he couldn't pinpoint what it was but it was somehow nagging him about something, or rather someone. His fingers traced the brushstrokes with a newfound reverence, as if trying to understand the emotions you had captured on canvas.

"I never knew..." Damian whispered, more to himself than to Alfred. The layers of vibrant colors, the delicate details, and the raw emotions conveyed through your art were all a testament to the depth of your soul. He felt a connection to you that he hadn't realized before, a sense of camaraderie and understanding. And he was totally not dissing you just minutes ago.

Alfred placed a comforting hand on Damian's shoulder. "Art has a way of speaking to us, Master Damian. It reveals truths that words often cannot. Y/n's art is a reflection of their experiences, their joys, and their sorrows. It is a part of them that they have shared with the world."

Damian nodded, taking a step back to fully appreciate the entirety of your work. Your art had opened a door to a deeper connection, and he was willing to walk through it. He didn't know why but in a way this was proof that you had always had some kind of connection to him.

As Damian and Alfred stood there, surrounded by the masterpieces you had created, a sense of resolve settled over Damian. He frowns and takes a look around all the work of your art. His style doesn't differ much from yours. the caress of brush ever so slightly seen, and the emotions behind the soul of your paintings, like his. What made you so similar to him? And that, he will not know until he finds you.

He knew that finding you and bringing you back was not just about making amends—it was about recognizing and celebrating the unique and irreplaceable person you were.

Y/n considered themselves a keen observer, attuned to the delicate nuances of the world around them. They noticed the gentle yet sometimes harsh swaying of the wind as it danced with the leaves, creating a symphony of nature's whispers. They noticed the lady sitting on the park bench, quietly absorbing the view of the home she once grew up in, her memories interwoven with the present. They noticed the ducks by the pond, gracefully gliding through the water alongside their mother, a portrait of serene tranquility.

Y/n noticed everything, yet no one noticed them. And it was fine. They had long accepted this reality, enduring the loneliness of being invisible in a world where they saw so much. The weight of being unnoticed had become a familiar companion, a constant presence that shaped their existence. In the silent spaces between moments, Y/n found solace in their observations, finding beauty in the overlooked and meaning in the mundane.

So why were they just noticing you just now? Why? When you have just started to accept and move on. Why must they bring the horrors of the past when your current life is filled with hope arraying a new journey, now destroyed.

Why couldn’t Dick just let you be, drifting away in the silence you’d crafted? Why couldn’t he leave you to fade quietly, just as you had promised yourself you would, a ghost of your former self, untouched and unbothered? Yet there he was, an ever-present weight, his hands—rough, calloused, scarred by years of untold burdens—forcing your face into the past, as if his touch could rewrite history. His fingers dug into your skin, twisted into the soft contours of your face, tearing through the years of numbness, of denial, dragging you back to a place you had sworn you’d never return.

And then, Tim. Oh, Tim. The boy who once didn’t even see you, who barely even remembered your name when it lingered in the air of the manor. Now, he’s relentless, his fingers tapping into your phone with the same quiet insistence that his presence once had in the dark halls of that place you used to call home. You want to scream, to rip the silence apart, to do anything but feel what you’re feeling now—this suffocating pull to return to them, to face them, even when you know you never should have to again.

The ache swells, the lump in your throat is a tangible thing now, a choking presence you can’t swallow down. It’s the same searing pain that’s lingered, festering, hidden beneath layers of what you pretended was healing. How cruel it is, to have spent so much time trying to break free, only to find that some things, some people, are never quite done with you.

The ghost of them lingers, burrows deeper, with every unanswered message. They still haunt you, even from afar. You hate them for it, for still holding the power to break you open, to make you bleed from places you thought had long scarred over. It feels like a thousand wounds opening up again—slow, deliberate, bleeding you dry in a way you don’t know how to stop.

You stared blankly into the emptiness, feeling numb, when suddenly a hand rested on your shoulder. You flinched instinctively and turned to see who it was. Your eyes widened as you recognized your ballet teacher standing behind you. "Miss Kavinsky! I-I... Hi! I’m—" you stammered, but she quickly cut you off with a smile.

"Y/N L/N-Wayne, I know," she said with a warm tone. "It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you."

You winced slightly, the sound barely audible, but Miss Kavinsky didn’t seem to notice. "Come on, let’s meet the other dancers. I’m sure they’re eager to meet you."

The surprise hit you hard, and you stuttered, "M-me?" You couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.

She grinned, a playful mix of amusement and mild disbelief on her face. "Yes, you. You're kind of a celebrity here, Wayne. Not surprised with a talent like yours."

Her words lingered in the air, but you went quiet, caught off guard by the compliment. You couldn’t fully process it, the idea of anyone looking up to you seemed so foreign, so distant. And somewhere in the haze, you barely registered the way she had called you "Wayne.”

As you and the other dancers gathered at the stage, a wave of anxiety washed over you. The weight of thoughts about Tim and Dick pressed heavily on your mind, and the pressure of the moment only made it worse. Just as your mind started to spiral, a voice cut through the chaos.

"Hey! You're Y/N, right? I'm Desiree, but you can just call me Des."

You forced a smile, barely hearing Miss Kavinsky as her voice faded into the background, announcing something about attendance. Your attention was now solely focused on Des, who had just broken the ice. You shook her hand and smiled more genuinely, the tension in your body loosening up a bit.

"Hi, Des. Yeah, you already know who I am. Nice to meet you."

You both exchanged a quiet laugh, and the chatter around you faded as you continued talking. For a moment, you felt like you could breathe again. You asked the usual questions: "How old are you?" "What's your favorite ballet?" The conversation flowed easily, but when your name was suddenly called for attendance, you were snapped back to reality.

"Here!" you called out, your voice getting lost in the sea of dancers.

But then Des said something that made you freeze.

"So, are you excited that both of you are here?" she asked with a playful giggle, her smile sweet and innocent.

You blinked, confused, but smiled through it. "Both of us...?" you repeated, trying to follow along.

Des chuckled softly at your puzzled expression. "You and your sister, silly! It must be so nice to perform together. My brother wouldn't even try to get into ballet, you know?"

Her words, lighthearted as they were, suddenly made your world feel like it was crashing down around you. You felt a cold panic begin to rise. Your fingers instinctively dug into your palms, almost drawing blood. Your smile wavered, barely holding on, while your eyes fluttered, teetering on the edge of tears. Des’s voice became distant, her words fading into a muffled blur as your thoughts spiraled out of control, bloodshot eyes starting to sting with unshed tears. Your heart raced, and the chaos inside you was too much to contain.

In that very moment, her name echoed through the air, sharp and clear. Without thinking, your gaze shifted, and you locked eyes with her. Her wide, unblinking stare pierced through the noise, anchoring you in place. For a fleeting second, you wondered if she had been watching you all along—since the instant your name was called, or perhaps even before. You couldn't be sure.

What you did know, however, was that the weight of her gaze felt like a force, pulling you into a quiet abyss. It made you feel small, fragile—as if you were prey beneath the steady, unyielding gaze of a predator. A shiver ran through you, and suddenly, all you wanted was to escape, to flee from the suffocating intensity of her eyes, which seemed to strip away every layer of protection you had left.

The fates were clearly playing with you now.

Cassandra was an exceptionally gifted individual, much like her siblings, each of whom possessed their own unique abilities. From the moment she first pursued ballet, her family showered her with unwavering love and support. She had access to training that most could only dream of—privileges afforded to her not because of her wealth, but because she was no ordinary person. She was Batgirl, the daughter of Batman by choice, a mantle she wore with pride. So, when an invitation arrived for her to join the prestigious Swan Lake performance alongside other top-tier dancers, it hardly came as a surprise. After all, excellence was something she had always embraced, both on the stage and off.

As she gets ready for her first rehearsal she can't help but notice that some of her siblings are missing. She shook it off and ate her food but also not abandoning the thought of asking about the absence of her siblings and father, to a familiar companion of their family:Alfred. As where Alfred only replies with them being busy about.. Something, yet said to her to fret not and just worry her mind about her ballet play, quickly chasing away her concerns for her family with a smile that made her feel lighthearted. With a chuckle she got up and made her way to the location of where the dancers were told to meet.

Cass had always believed she was the only one in her family who truly appreciated the delicate artistry of ballet. Her passion for the graceful movements, the precision of each step, and the beauty of the performances had always felt like a private world to her, a world she inhabited alone. She couldn’t recall a single moment where anyone in her family shared even the slightest interest in it. So, when she entered the crowded theater that evening, expecting to be surrounded only by fellow ballet enthusiasts, she was taken aback by something unexpected.

Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, she spotted you. For a fleeting moment, her heart skipped a beat, not from the rush of seeing someone in the crowd, but from an overwhelming sense of familiarity that washed over her. There you were, standing like a ghost from a forgotten past, an unexplainable connection sparking between you both. Cass couldn’t place it, but it was as though she had known you forever, even though your paths had never crossed before.

Her mind wandered, replaying the memories that had been buried deep within her. A distant image flashed across her thoughts: she was standing in a room filled with soft, pastel-colored fabrics, the scent of leather and polish hanging in the air. Two pairs of pointe shoes rested beside one another on the floor—one was familiar, worn and well-loved, the other brand new, the laces still fresh and untangled. The second pair, the one that felt entirely foreign, immediately piqued her curiosity. She was certain it wasn’t hers, yet the connection to it lingered, something so subtle but undeniable.

The realization hit her like a wave. She didn’t know you, not consciously, but somehow she felt bound to you, as if fate had woven your lives together in some strange, invisible thread long before either of you had even been aware of it.

The entire day she watched and observed you. She paid extra attention to every detail of your expressions, body language, and posture. She didn't know why but you seemed to be very clear–in her case, in distress, like you were panicking over something. And she didn't know why she somehow hated seeing you that way. As the minutes passed, she found herself simply just staring at you. Not even for a fleeting moment had she taken her gaze of you. She watched and observed tensely at every person who looks at you, who talks to you, who breathes near you. Almost as if she was guarding you. As they were told to gather she followed silently after the crowd and placed herself purposely in front of the other side from you. She scoffs in amusement as you barely notice her, too focused on your own little world. As minutes continued to pass, suddenly a girl broke you out of her thoughts with her voice making you flinch. Her breath hitched as irritation started to crawl their way through her chest. Why couldn't the girl be more gentle with you? Can't she see that you were clearly stressed? She frowns slightly at the girl, surprising herself by the sudden change of mood. She holds her breath and watches you like a hawk would at its prey. Her vision was filled with your now loosen frame, giggling with the girl who approached you earlier. A new feeling started to claw its way through her chest, now bigger and stronger. The green monster eating her up when suddenly the call of her voice brought her out of her thoughts as she, for a moment took her eyes off of you to answer quietly to her name and as she bring back her gaze to you, quickly to not miss anything she might take the pleasure in seeing, suddenly your eyes are on her too. Her eyes couldn't leave the sight of your gaze who held such horror in them, as if seeing her was too much for you. As she was your living nightmare sitting right in front of you.

The remaining time the dancers practiced, you avoided her gaze and her presence. The more you avoided her, the more she itched to be in your presence alone, to be near you. The whole time at the practice she was, for the first time, distracted. Her thoughts are consumed by you. Her thoughts came up with every question she could ask about her and your current situation. What were you doing here? Why didn't she know? Were you at the manor? No, if you were she would've known.. Right? Okay if you weren't, then why weren't you? Those questions alone made her uneasy and frustrated. As it was time to go home, she watched as you hurriedly got out and quickly went home to wherever your home was. The nagging feeling screamed at her to follow you but decided against it and thought that going home and bringing the news to her family might help more. After all, they were stronger together.

She stormed into the manor, urgency in her every step, and sought out Alfred with a single, breathless demand: "Boys. Where?" Without hesitation, he led her to them. Her gaze fell upon them, intense and unyielding, her pupils trembling with an unspoken storm. She whispered a single name, a breathless, haunting utterance: "Y/N." The boys, in unison, responded, "We know."

A deep breath escaped her, the weight of their actions—venturing after you without so much as a word—forgotten for the moment. She snatched a laptop, her fingers flying over the keys in a frantic dance of their own. The screen flickered to life, revealing a video that stole the breath from the room. There you were, dancing—each movement a testament to grace, each step more captivating than the last.

The world had already fallen under your spell. The internet buzzed with adoration, praising the way your every turn, every leap, every pause held the audience in thrall. Under the stage lights, you seemed more than human—a celestial being, your form bathed in soft light, glowing like an ethereal angel, kissed by the very air around you. The boys stood frozen, their gaze fixed upon you, entranced.

Your presence was no illusion. You were a goddess of their own making, and in that moment, they knew: they were already devoted, bound by the silent understanding that they would worship you, body and soul.

As the video played, the room fell into a hushed reverence. The boys, once brimming with urgency and tension, now stood motionless, their eyes locked onto the screen, as if spellbound. Every fluid movement you made seemed to breathe life into the very air around them. They couldn’t look away; they didn’t want to. Your every step, every pirouette, was poetry in motion, a delicate balance of strength and grace that made their hearts race.

The way you arched your back mid-spin, the soft brush of your fingertips against your skin, the quiet breath you took before every leap—it all drew them in, slowly, methodically, as though they were witnessing something far beyond the ordinary. Each turn of your body mirrored the very rhythm of their own hearts, synchronized with the ethereal pulse of the music, and they couldn’t help but feel as if the entire world had narrowed down to this one sacred moment.

Your eyes, though focused on the stage, seemed to flicker with a spark of something far deeper, something they couldn't quite place but could almost taste. It was like watching a dream unfold, where every movement became a metaphor—each glide across the stage spoke to something eternal, something untouchable. They found themselves lost in the elegance of your form, the way your body seemed to move with a natural fluidity that defied the laws of physics.

The lights above you softened, caressing your silhouette, painting you in a divine glow. And in that moment, they felt small, insignificant even, as if you had been carved out of stardust itself, too perfect to comprehend, yet impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just the skill of your dance—it was your presence, your essence that held them captive.

They felt an almost primal pull, as though your every movement was speaking directly to their souls. The way your body spoke without words—your elegance and power blending seamlessly—rendered them speechless. They were entranced by the aura you carried, intoxicated by your beauty and the mystery you exuded, a beauty that wasn’t merely skin-deep but radiated from within, a force of nature.

For a fleeting moment, they could almost believe that you were more than human, that you were something higher, something divine. They stood there, wide-eyed and breathless, as if they had been granted a glimpse of something sacred—something that no one else could understand. And in that moment, they knew that they would follow you, worship you, in a devotion that transcended mere admiration. You weren’t just captivating; you were everything. They couldn't believe that someone like you had been overlooked by then.

Bruce now understands that with no plan in mind he would still follow you till the end of the earth. Oh his little baby. He would do anything to earn your love and affection for him. To see you and to bask under the ray of sunshine your smile brings. To feel your presence alone.

Dick now understands that he owes you more than a few dinners or dates as siblings. No. He owes you the world. As guilt eats his flesh up one by one, mourning all the versions of you that he could have witnessed right before his eyes are now long gone. But that's okay, he'll make it up to you.

Tim now understands that you were surely his angel. His savior. His form of salvation. He could watch you all day and never get bored. He could listen to you all day until his ears bled but never say a word.

Damian now understands that the disbelief he felt when looking at your paintings full of emotions overflowing with a sense of overwhelming feel, was now long gone because he knew that only such being like you, almost like a supernatural being, could be the only one who has the ability to capture such deep emotions in one painting, to be able to create such beautiful, breathtaking object.

Cassandra now understands why she felt like she somehow had a connection to you and that was because she was your sister. And as she was a daughter to batman by choice, that she will also be a sister by choice to you. She was an observer, someone who guards-and she will guard you with her life for all eternity.

As the overwhelming tension fills the room Alfred stands at the corner with a small smile. “apologies master y/n had I done this sooner, you would have not slipped through my grasp dear child. Do not fret for your family is coming to get you.”

Ah, Alfred, the mastermind. He knew this would happen. He just needed to intertwine a little. He did not worry because he knew. He knew that leaving your bedroom door open the moment he knew Dick was coming over to the manor while the others were busy, and knowing Dick's tendency to wander off in the vast expanse of Wayne Manor, the chances of him finding your room were high. He knew that rearranging your trophies inside your room (which you had told him to get rid of) would pique the interest of your family even more. He knew that decorating your hidden paintings around the minimalist and empty walls of the house would catch the attention of the youngest Wayne. He knew that playing those soft melodies of your voice through the small TV in the kitchen would enchant a certain sleep-deprived boy, making him miss the sweet sound of your voice.

Alfred knew that when Cassandra was called for the big ballet play, you would be at the same play too, as you had told him over the phone, giggling and excited with a high-pitched voice. He didn't bother to tell you about your sister's similar invitation, nor did he inform your sister about yours. He knew every single detail, every thread that needed to be woven together to create this intricate tapestry of reconnection.

Alfred's wisdom was like a silent symphony, orchestrating events with a delicate touch. He understood the nuances of each family member, their strengths, their weaknesses, and their desires. He knew that Dick's curiosity would lead him to your room, where the trophies would spark memories and questions. He knew that Damian's keen eye for detail would be drawn to the vibrant paintings, each brushstroke a testament to your hidden talents. He knew that Tim, in his sleep-deprived state, would be captivated by the melodies of your voice, a soothing balm to his restless mind.

Alfred's heart ached with the knowledge of your absence, but he also held hope. Hope that these carefully placed breadcrumbs would lead your family back to you, to the realization of what they had lost and the determination to make amends. He knew that the path to reconciliation was not an easy one, but it was a journey worth taking.

As the days passed, Alfred watched with a knowing smile as the pieces began to fall into place. He saw the flicker of recognition in Dick's eyes, the softening of Damian's demeanor, and the spark of determination in Tim's gaze. He knew that the seeds he had planted were beginning to grow, and soon, the family would be whole again.

Alfred was getting old and he couldn't bare the vision of his children Bruce and you, drifting away from each other, and you from him. Maybe it was his own selfish reason but he couldn't help it. He raised you from the moment you got to the manor. Teached you everything he knew and gave you all the love he could. He watched you grew up and maybe it was a moment of rush that he allowed himself to be selfish and turn the tables around.

In the quiet moments, Alfred allowed himself a moment of reflection. He thought of you, the child who had brought so much light into his life. He knew that you deserved to be seen, to be cherished, and to be loved. And he would do everything in his power to ensure that you found your way back to the family that needed you just as much as you needed them.

Authors note: I'm sorry I took so long in writing this! I hope yall enjoy the 10k+ words I wrote. One tip tho is to read and observe the details very carefully! Dw I'm gonna explain it soon tho. Hope yall enjoy this cuz imma take a break after this.

[wrotebymii]

EVERYTHING HAS A PLACE | Date Everything x Autistic!gn!reader

Summary: How life is with the objects and their autistic homeowner.

Warnings: Fluffy, minimal angst, reader doesn’t know their household necessities are sentient at first, I’m autistic but low-functioning so a lot of what I wrote is how I go about my day/how I act. Not edited. Reader is also slightly demi-romantic coded.

Lost the plot a few paragraphs in I’m sorry I’m sleep deprived.

MASTERLIST | READ ME

Timothy, Penelope, and You are like three peas in a pod. Using each keeps you relatively relaxed for the upcoming day or eventual break in your neatly put together schedule—which gets increasingly difficult to think about when said break comes.

Sorry, Sam, but your hang session is place obscurely in our data monthly pin board since it’s pushing too close to workout and the everything shower. —Signed Penelope

They all try to accommodate your needs; Kopi making the coffee the exact same every time, Freddy keeping the fridge nice and cool so your comfort foods don’t spoil just yet, Teddy being found under your bed when you’re having a difficult time regulating, even Lux and Barry collaborating reluctantly together to find the perfect hand lotion that doesn’t give you sensory headaches.

Everyone thinks you’re charming, not in an infantilizing way. Every single person adores you but with respect and understanding.

Most of them love that you have a routine you stick by, it’s easy to remember and gives them chill periods in between. Its a nice break because they too can get tired, so when there’s a detour in the schedule that wasn’t place advanced. They worry.

Koa and Mateo would immediately be there with you, letting you curl in the comfort of your bedding and focus on yourself. While Telly puts on a rerun of your favorite show.

But this time it’s different. An immediate change in your entire routine when you got the Dateviators. Forcing yourself to ignore the urge to clean the broken glass of your door window because a drone had so rudely forced the box in. You picked them up, they were cute a little tacky but cute nevertheless. Internally, you were still freaked out that an unknown person knew your address and sent you a pair of sungla— holy shit.

You put them on and you’re not sure how it happened but there was a very beautiful smiling pinked haired stranger standing a few feet away from you. She was practically buzzing in excitement as she explained what was happening. Causing you to…

Quickly take the glasses off and pace.

You couldn’t believe it, almost didn’t want to believe it. Within the comforts of your own home every object, appliance, knicknacks, and the literal embodiment of concepts are all sentient. It made you feel all types of ways wrong that you quickly took laps around the house before collapsing on the floor of your living room.

…this could be a good thing? You mean…it could help with your social skill and facial recognition. Hell, maybe you’ll get a friend out of this?

Slowly you put them back on, your world being brightly lit up by rose tinted specs. It hurts your eyes. Though, Skylar shows up again, looking down at you with a strained smile and wave. Easying you up without touching you to your feet and continuing what she was saying. Before another bomb shell hit you.

Dateviators…dateables

The whole point of these glasses was to date multiple of your household items which freaked you out more. However, you were truly thankful that you met Dorian first. His announcement that friendship was also an option made it less daunting on you.

Thus began the 102 way to get everything to be friends with you!

Sure, the first few days was stressful and near exhausting but long talks with Timothy and Pen helped greatly. They helped with creating an entirely new schedule color coded as well that allowed time for your humanly needs and getting to know everyone.

Jerry and You got along great, earning his friendship fast when you told him to up-cycle.

Lux was easy to hate, but with your inability to know when you’re being insulted you became their unlikely friend they hurt your eyes.

Teddy was amazing, you were little embarrassed that he knows deeply about your breakdowns but the silly advice and stories made it go away.

Barry is probably your best friend, you help him with his memory by saying he can use things he’s interested in to aid him in keeping track of things.

Chance is your second bestie, nearly tackling him in feral hyper fixation so you could yap his ear off about the game you both like. He’s the most likely to fall for you. Besides Wallace.

However, the best place is Break Box Club, but only when it’s after hours. You can only sit through terrible act before you want to put cotton in your ears. The club is soothing at closing, lights dimmer Volt and Eddie do that just for you and you get to drink a lot of mocktails Eddie teases you.

You do your share, of course. Not wanting to free load off the two. You have knowledge on the breaker box because you were frantically cleaning one day and found the manual which you spent the next hour reading through and forgot the cleaning which you regretted later.

Currently, you’re seated at the bar working on a project you and Jerry are doing while chatting to Eddie about a new dateable, questioning the person initial reaction to you. Volt was to your right.

“They were flirting…” He said, cleaning a glass with a shake of his head. The corner of his lips turning up. You give him a once over and hum in thought.

“Nah” You say flatly, not believing it.

“The hell you mean nah?” He raised an amused brow. You shrug and sit up straight, gathering your words.

“They seemed…rude? And pushy” You concluded.

“That doesn’t mean they weren’t…” Eddie pauses and places the glass down, rubbing between his eyes like he has a headache.

“Sometimes…insults can be meant in different ways, live wire.” Volt says, chuckling. They aren’t teasing you for your like of awareness but amused by the conversation overall.

“But, that’s not how it’s like in Betty’s books” You say, maintaining strict eye contact with Eddies hands as the wipe down the counter. Enjoying the rhythmic nature of it.

“How was it shown in these books?” Volt asks with more interest.

“Flashy, and oddly poetic. Like you’d sing a ballad if you saw your lover in front of you” You say remembering the way Betty gasp and sigh wishfully when she read it out loud. You thought it was pretty, and by definition romantic, but not something you think you’d like.

“Ah of course, lovey-dovey shit…” Eddie mumbles, he leans on the bar his hands on the counter supporting his weight. Volt hums.

“Betty is the overtly romantic type.” Volt looks at you, multitasking on the project and the conversation.

“-what about you?”

“Huh?”

“What is your romance like, your love language?”

“You don’t have to answer, tap your fingers twice if you want me to stop him” Eddie teases, his voice drowning out with Volts as they banter back and forth.

What is your romance like? Love language? You aren’t sure, but you know you like foundation a connection to someone. Similarities but not too many.

“I think I like just being near someone…we don’t have uh-don’t have to speak or do anything but just be there in each other presence, I enjoy that. Looking up and seeing that they’re there and I get to be there with them…” The room is silence, it’s not awkward but settle.

Then it’s broken.

“I enjoy the firey and beautiful passi-“

“You ruined it” Eddie huffs.

“Oh-ho I did not, I’m merely adding onto-“ Volt defends himself, electricity tingling over his arms—the zapping noise of it pleases you.

You giggle as they continue, adding the last bit to the Jerry project. Watching as Eddie and Volt blabber on as Eddie begins to walk away from the conversation to go on and do workaholic things.

You might not fully understand where you are in romantic relationships but you’ll take anything if it meant being in the presence of any object within this house. If they’re flirty, hateful, passive, aloof.

You don’t mind, being around them is enough for you.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

I’ll Take Care Of You

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: sick Lando, smut

You weren't supposed to show up at the Las Vegas GP because you had your own business commitments, but knowing the state Lando was in, you decided to drop everything and come with him. You knew he needed you there and there wasn't a second of doubt in your mind whether or not to go with him when you saw how sick he really was.

After Brazil, Lando was not feeling well mentally. He couldn't sleep, he wouldn't eat or drink, his mood was at zero and all of this affected his immune system which resulted in him falling ill just before the Vegas GP.

Your heart ached seeing him like this because you knew there was nothing you could do except be there for him until he got through it. The only good thing about all of this was taking the pressure of being a world champion off his shoulders until next season at least.

Before the Vegas race, Lando could barely function, to be honest. His nose was blocked, his head was pounding, and he could barely hear in one ear.

As you closely followed the race in the garage, it no longer mattered to you which place he would take, you just prayed that he would finish the race safely and successfully so you can get him out of there.

So once the race was finally over, you were relieved, and so was he. When he got out of the car and took his helmet and balaclava off his head, he immediately looked for you with his eyes.

"Baby.." You looked at him sadly, approaching him and extending your arms towards him. "Are you alright?"

"Hey, love" His head fell onto your shoulder as he buried his face in your neck, pulling you closer to him. "I feel so sick" He sighed quietly and you immediately put your palm against his forehead to check his temperature.

"Lan, you're burning"

He was exhausted, so tired he could barely keep his eyes open and head up. He desperately needed to rest and all you wanted was to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Go get changed and we're going to the hotel, okay?" You tell him.

"No, I don't wanna go to the hotel, I wanna go home." He says.

"Lan, you can't get on a plane like this. You need to get some rest first and then we're gonna go home"

"No, please baby, I just wanna go to our home, please. I really need it. I know I'll feel better as soon as we get home." He whines. You sigh for a moment just looking at him as you ponder if this really is a smart decision. "Please" His eyes plead and you finally agree.

He was clinging to you the entire flight, holding his head in your lap and trying to sleep. He still had a fever so you improvised compresses to put over his forehead.

Lando wasn't sick often, but once in a while when he caught a cold, it would wipe him out. It was the same this time. He was bedridden for a week, and you were there every day taking care of him. He wasn't even exaggerating, he was really sick and you were worried he would get dehydrated or his condition would get worse. You even wanted to take him to the emergency room, but he promised he was fine and just needed you by his side.

Once he finally felt well enough to get out of bed and go further than the bathroom, you felt a pair of arms hug you around your waist as you prepared lunch in the kitchen.

"Hey, baby" Your eyes lit up when you saw him.

"Hey" He smiled nuzzling his head into your neck and leaving a kiss.

"Are you feeling any better?" You asked.

"Mhm. My throat is still a little sore, but I feel much better." He says in a hoarse voice.

"Well, good then." You rise on your tiptoes to leave a kiss on his cheek. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. You really got me worried."

"Thank you for taking care of me" He smiles putting your face between his hands.

"You don't need to thank me for that. I enjoy doing it."

"I know, but that's my job - to take care of you and me."

"You know how they say, 'in sickness and in health'." You both laugh considering you're not even engaged yet, let alone married even though people around you keep asking you about it all the time.

"Do I hear the wedding bells?" Lando asks.

"I don't know, do you?"

"I think I do." He smirks biting his lip before pressing his lips against yours knowing it's only a matter of time before he proposes to you.

Although he felt better physically, he still hadn't mentally recovered from the 'defeat', even though he didn't want to admit it. But it gave him away when you looked for him on his side of the bed in your sleep and couldn't find him.

You squinted at your phone to see what time it was and when it showed 2 a.m. you found it strange that he wasn't there because he usually sleeps all night.

You headed straight for the living room where you found him on the couch in front of the TV. He was lying down in his boxers, watching TV, but his gaze was thoughtful and you knew something was bothering him.

"Lan?"

"Baby, what are you doing awake?" He asks extending his arm for you to lie down next to him.

"I have the same question for you." You say taking a place next to him and leaning your head against his chest.

"Couldn't sleep, I was tossing and turning the whole time. I got up so I wouldn't wake you up."

"And why couldn't you sleep?" You ask, but he stays silent. "Baby, what's bothering you? Talk to me, please."

"You already know what it is" He sighs tracing his fingers over your shoulder. "But I don't wanna talk about it anymore. I really don't, I just need to get through it."

"Is there anything I can do about it?"

"You're here with me. That's all I need." He says placing a kiss to your forehead.

But you were determined to do something, anything, to make him feel at least a little better. And what's better than satisfying him to relieve him of frustration and tension.

Besides, it's been over two weeks since the last time you fucked. You'd be lying if you said you didn't need him in the same way and you thought tonight was the perfect opportunity for both of you so you straddled him and started kissing him gently.

He gave in to the kiss, not yet realizing what you were up to. It was only when you slowly started grinding your hips against him that he smiled into the kiss.

"What's on your mind, baby?" He asked gripping your hips.

"Just wanna make you feel better" You said moving your lips to his neck. He moaned throwing his head back and you felt him starting to get hard underneath you.

You soon positioned yourself between his legs and pulled his boxers down. He quickly got rid of them, throwing them aside, and you began to kiss him around his length.

"Wanna please you" You said between kisses.

He took his cock in his hand and tapped it against your lips. You stuck out your tongue and licked his tip making him groan in response. You teased him by slowly licking him up and down and he was starting to get impatient.

"Baby, please" He whispered stroking himself against your lips.

"Please, what, Lan?" You asked innocently, stopping his hand and cupping his balls.

"Put it in your mouth"

His breath catches as your lips finally wrap around his cock. He collects your hair into a ponytail and tilts his head to get a better look at you taking him all the way in.

You keep taking him deeper and deeper until his tip hit the back of your throat and you gag around him.

"Oh fuck.." He moans while his fingers keep raking and twirling in your hair. Your hand soon replaces your mouth as you spit on his tip and stroke him up and down. You don't want him to cum this way, you want him to cum inside you and you know he's close so you straddle him again guiding his cock to your entrance.

"Fuck, baby, fuck" His hands are pulling your night dress up to reveal your ass and grab it. He lets out a low groan as you slowly sink down on him. Leaning back, he shifts his hips up to adjust how he's sitting.

"You feel so good, so big inside of me" You whine as your rock your hips back and forth.

"Yeah?" His eyes are stuck on you as he grips your hips tighter and presses his lips against your neck.

"Stretching me out so good, Lan, shit" You make special effort to compliment him tonight as you keep on riding him quickening your pace.

He grips your ass tighter pulling you down harder on him. His breath is ragged in your ear and it makes you take him deeper and harder needing him to lose control. And you know what's coming next when you feel him twitch inside you.

"I'm cumming" He chokes out triggering your own orgasm. You clench around him as he fills you up biting his teeth into your skin.

He hugged you tightly, kissing your forehead while you lay leaning against his chest, barely catching your breath from the sweet release you both needed so desperately.

"I love you" He whispers. "I love you more than anything"