#he only has one thing he's been working himself up to doing
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STILL GOIN' TIL 6 IN THE MORN!
✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ synopsis: with work piling and little time to with his supportive wife, Nanami's left with one option!
✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ pairings: wife!fem!reader x nanami kento
✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ cw: 1.5k+ words, headcannon+ drabble format, oral(f.receiving), crémepies, implied oversimulation
✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ words from chris: this piece is in honor of @s0dium 's milestone event! congrats to you darling!
Time has always been the only thing Nanami can’t help, no matter how much he tries.
From dawn to dusk, his mind’s plagued with thoughts of work—deadlines, team meetings, trying to maintain his composure.
But truth is—he’s just teasing past his own limits, something he’s been staring at for the last few weeks. Work takes up his entire life and leaves what matters most to him on the back burner, including his precious wife.
Only the heavens know you take it, but it’s the one prayer of Nanami’s that seems to hold true. He has to wonder—how do you deal with him?
You’re always there with a warm home, a hot meal, kind words, and a smile that does nothing but milk the guilt from Nanami’s soul. He knows his work life is taking a toll on you, but you hide it so well for him.
It’s rare when Nanami chooses himself, but when he does, he’s acting in your favor too. There’s only one place Nanami’s willing to go into overtime for…
It’s been hours since Nanami piloted his own course and it’s been a hell of a ride. A ride that’s got you lathered in sweat, your hot skin spry from countless orgasms, and a nasty endurance to keep up with the likes of your husband.
He’s managed to lure you beneath his spell of thanks to the simple question about his day. That’s how he got you because he did tell you about his day—but with his head buried between your lips and his lips busy with your pussy.
He took his time to spell out every. single. word with deft strokes of his tongue. Filth was the only way to describe the way his tongue coils at your clit, enlisting help from the thick pad of his thumb to pull back the puffy hold. It was all for good measure, he was just taking extra care to emphasize that the ‘S’ bleeds through.
And because of his carefulness, you were already creaming on his tongue before he was done explaining with his morning.
Since you wanted to know about his whole day, Nanami had no choice but to sit back on his haunches and explain the rest.
An explanation that came with that devastating stretch of his cock.
An explanation that came in delirious strides of Nanami’s hips against your own. He’s desperate for the heaven he knows exists because you’re right in front of him. So he’ll work, work at your sweet spot to draw out that blossoming heat nestled at your core in hopes that you’ll introduce him to that same nirvana.
And it’s been how many rounds? The numbers didn’t matter much when each time he paints your walls white, his balls are forced to bear yet another swelling bloat of cum.
He’s filled you more times than your poor brain would let you count and he still wasn’t finished.
And maybe it’s the fatigue talking, but Nanami’s just can’t bring himself to part from you. Were you always this tight? This warm?Just the teasing flit of your silky walls was enough to send Nanami spiraling down his own fever dream.
And it’s so selfish of him to force you into his sick game, but he’s missed this more than you know. Seeing those tears decorate your puffy cheek, your hands clawing merciful crimson streaks along his tummy, and your pretty pussy sputtered dumb with slick and split around the pudgy girth of his cock.
“Mmm. K-Ken…”you whimper, turning your head away from his sinful gaze.
“Hm, talk to me, Angel. T-Tell me ‘nd it’s yours.”
And the words are sitting right at the tip of your tongue, but your lulling eyes fall on a sight that breaks the spell of lust over your body.
That damned alarm clock.
“Kento! Hold on, it’s…6 o’clock! You’ve gotta—”
“Shhh, don’t…hah fuck…don’t worry, Baby.”
Oh, it’s so cute how much you care about him. You’re a sputtering mess on his cock but his work still finds room inside that hazy brain of yours.
He’s thinking about what a horrible life he’s conditioned upon you. Not a hair on your pretty head should even think about that wretched place and here you are paying it a thought during a time that’s sacred between man and wife.
Just to ease that burden off of you, Nanami leans in to press a sweet kiss on your lips. It’s six in the morning but Nanami’s far from reaching his goal.
His goal of focusing on you.
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#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen smut#jjk nanami#nanami kento smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami x reader#jujutsu nanami#nanami x you#jjk x reader#cw sex mention#cw smut#//✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀—𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈!//#//✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀—𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒’𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐋!//
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friendly neighborhood spiderman - fushiguro megumi
word count: 25k i need a lobomy
warnings: swearing, men making reader uncomfortable, some blood n bruises
summary: besides being morally gray, megumi has never crossed any personal boundaries while protecting the city disguised as the spiderman. that is, until it comes to her. a thorn in his side, a plague to his mind, and a skip in his heart. wait, what?
notes: SPIDERMAN AU! rivals to unknown friends to unknown lovers to..??
___
With great power comes great responsibility…
To that, Fushiguro Megumi said; no shit.
Living a double life wasn’t always the easiest thing in the world, but the justice part came to him naturally. He didn’t like to call his abilities superpowers, there was something too childish about it, but since gaining them, Megumi had known there was some kind of reason.
Maybe it was because he had a stronger sense of right and wrong than most of the people he knew. His peers at the college he attended seemed to have more interest in alcohol poisoning than anything else, so he supposed it made sense that if a radioactive spider bit had to give someone powers… it might as well have been him.
Besides, he was kind of a loner, so it wasn’t hard to hide his double life. Every day he followed the same routine.
Wake up early to work out and do a quick patrol of the city, try to get to his classes on time, study in between lectures, study through lunch, and then as soon as his last class of the day was over he was off to swing through the city and keep an eye on things.
There had been an uptick in crime in Tokyo lately, and Megumi hadn’t quite put his finger on why. It had never been the safest city in Japan, but since taking on this role it seemed like criminals everywhere were crawling out of the cracks and shadows to challenge him. Not that anything had proven to be too challenging for The Spiderman… petty criminals made it easy.
“Late again, Fushiguro”
There were, however, challenges that Megumi faced.
(y/n) swiveled around in her seat just as he’d sat down behind her. To think he’d patted himself on the back for only being three minutes late today. He should’ve known she was counting down the minutes to rub it in his face.
Resting her elbows on the back of her seat so she could smirk at him, she plops her chin on her fists and eyes him curiously. Megumi can’t even be bothered to roll his eyes, he’d grown too tired of the same banter every day.
If she couldn’t take his place at the top of the class, (y/l/n) (y/n) would have to find some other way to antagonize Megumi- and she took that job all too seriously. Unfortunately their class schedules were almost identical, seeing as they were both enrolled in as many accelerated courses as they could be, so Megumi spent most of his day in her vicinity. And hell, she never let him forget it.
When he barely even looks at her, (y/n) turns back around in her seat, seemingly already prepping her notebook for her notes of the day. She’s probably one of those girls that makes every page pretty and aesthetically pleasing, Megumi finds himself frowning at his own train of thought. He only had seven more hours of putting up with her competitive attitude, and then he’d be free and far from it.
Nothing cleared his mind like swinging around the city. She couldn’t possibly plague him once he was in his suit. He tried to tell himself that through the rest of class, everytime her hand shot up in the air and she bragged her way through perfect, textbook answers.
It was no doubt that she’d be successful after graduation. Megumi would rather die than admit it out loud, but he wouldn’t be surprised in the least if she ended up a millionaire- billionaire- with how well studied and determined she was to win. If she put half the effort into her future career that she did just by bothering him, she’ll probably earn herself some title of youngest most successful woman.
Hopefully by then she’ll be too busy to bother him anymore. Although Megumi assumes that by the time graduation rolls around, he’ll never see her again.
She was probably counting down the days until then, too.
___
Megumi spent his lunches alone.
This didn’t really bother him. He didn’t have much interest in making friends, and never put much effort into it. He liked to think he was kind, but he knew he wasn’t the most approachable guy in the world. If he was honest, he kind of liked it that way. So long as he kept his clothes dark, his face expressionless, and his hair untamed, then he seemed to ward people off. No one approached his usual small table in the corner of the lunchroom unless they needed to borrow one of the extra empty chairs. Even then, people seemed nervous to ask, and more often than not someone would scurry over and take one without a word, rushing it back to their table before Megumi could say something untoward.
The way he dressed himself wasn’t the only thing keeping people away. His reputation might have something to do with it as well…
But that fight wasn’t his fault. Not necessarily. So what if someone got sent to the hospital? Megumi was a believer in consequences being served… and if no one else was going to deliver, then he supposed it came down to him to do the right thing. This was before the spider bite, before Spiderman, so his strong sense of justice had nowhere to be channeled.
To Megumi, all that mattered was the guy learned his lesson. And by the way, he did live. He just had to spend a week in Intensive Care to pull through, is all.
Unapproachable was an understatement when it came to Megumi.
Maybe that’s why he found (y/n) all the more obnoxious.
He minds his business during his lunch hour- although he’d argue that he minds his business all the time. Sitting in the corner with headphones large enough to make the point clear that he didn’t want to be bothered, his nose was always stuck in a book. He’d eat with one hand and scribble in his notebooks with the other. Even if he could afford a laptop he didn’t want to use one. His time was better utilized if he could study and eat simultaneously.
The corner of his eye twitches when he catches a glimpse of her in his peripheral. He hates that the hair on the back of his neck stands up when she shows up, all of his nerves tingling like a warning. His grimace is obvious as he finds her walking through the cafe with the little lunch box he knew was perfectly organized in multiple compartments. She probably didn’t let any of her food touch.
She’s stopped on her mission to get to her table of know-it-all friends, and Megumi shouldn’t care that some guy called her over to his table to talk to her, it’s a bit of a boring scene, honestly. He should get back to his studying now, but for some reason he’s compelled to watch from the back of the room as (y/n) drags her feet over to the guy’s table.
Megumi doesn’t recognize him, or really any of his surrounding friends, but by the looks of it they seemed like the kind of guys that wouldn’t have gotten into the classes he’s taking.
A year ago Megumi wouldn’t have been able to hear their conversation, not from across the busy cafe where a hundred other conversations are happening, but now he finds it easy to tune out all the other noise and eavesdrop on (y/n) and this frat boy.
“You always walk by without saying hello. You tryin’ to hurt my feelings, princess?” The frat boy feigns heartbreak, holding his hand to his chest all the while grinning at her.
“Hello”
(y/n’s) reply is rigid. She sounds as bored as Megumi feels watching her. He almost scoffs at himself for even paying this much attention. Clearly his little warning sense was misfiring, because nothing of interest is playing out here. He was starting to consider this a waste of his heightened abilities.
“Awe, c’mon now gorgeous, you can do better than that,” Fratboy clicks his tongue in mockery. “Why don’t you come sit?”
“I’m sitting with my friends”
Once again, her tone is as flat and dry as could be. Megumi starts to wonder what Fratboy even wants with her. Besides her personality being insufferable, she clearly isn’t interested in whatever he’s offering. How many hints can this guy possibly miss?
“Rain check?” Fratboy asks hopefully. It could almost be endearing if it wasn’t for the slimy grin he wore. Megumi hated to think it, but (y/n) outranked this guy on every scale.
“Yeah. Maybe” (y/n’s) voice falls to a mumble before she turns and walks away, this time at a faster pace than before.
As she finds her place at her table, she glances over her shoulder, feeling the prickle of someone’s eyes following her. Megumi’s senses are one step ahead, and he’s quick to drop his head to focus back on his studies again. He’d already lost five minutes to watch a pointless interaction, he didn’t need to lose more time by facing her evil eye if she’d caught him staring at her.
Idiot, he thinks as he takes a more aggressive bite of his food than necessary. Getting behind on schedule for (y/n) of all people.
He pushes the whole thing as far from his mind as he can as he gets back to work.
___
Tokyo had been rather quiet this evening. Not that Megumi was complaining. It was refreshing to see the streets peaceful, even this late into the night.
Eleven o’clock might not be the ideal dinner time for your average person, but for Spiderman, it was the norm. And Megumi liked having a quiet night where he could have a quick street food dinner at the skyline overlooking the whole city. It was peaceful up there. With all the stars out, a perfect breeze coming in, and without the noise of pedestrians out and about down on the streets, Megumi could positively say this was his secret piece of heaven.
Most things about his life were a secret- but this especially he held this place close.
As expected there wasn’t a single pesky thought of school on his mind. Like the sky, it was clear and peaceful.
At least it was, until he was mid-bite of his sandwich and he caught sight of something sketchy in his peripheral.
The familiar sensation of the hair on the back of his neck prickling rises when he turns to watch the scene unfold. An unmarked car with blackout windows pulling up behind one of the many small 24-7 convenience stores and a few men with various clown masks getting out of it. He huffs in annoyance, already swinging down and dumping the remainder of his perfectly good sandwich in the trash.
When were these idiots going to learn that robbing a convenience store was never worth it? He wonders as he lands on the roof of the building the men had just gone into. He finds there’s only one guy left in the car, the getaway driver he’s sure. Pulling his mask over his face he’s swift and silent in webbing up the door handles and tires of the car. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Just as silently, he drops to the ground, and enters the store.
It’s not the first time Spiderman has made an appearance during a stick up. And Megumi’s sure it won’t be his last, seeing as no one ever learns.
“Well if it isn’t Spiderboy” One of the three clowns, Megumi assumes the ringleader, taunts him with a laugh. He cocks his gun and aims it at him, but Megumi’s not the slightest bit threatened by a gun. Typical, he thinks.
He barely acknowledges the silent threat at all, instead scoping out the store quickly.
There’s one man behind the counter, his hands raised and shaking. It appears he hasn’t handed over any money yet, which is good. It makes for a quicker and cleaner exit for Megumi.
A couple is cowering behind the first aisle of snacks, trying to peek over the shelves without being seen- they’re not doing a very good job, but with Spiderman here now Megumi figures they’ve assumed their safety is guaranteed. They aren’t wrong.
And then there was a girl in the very back, two aisles behind the couple, and apparently far less brave as well. She’s crouched all the way to the ground, her hands clasped tightly over the back of her neck as if this was a tornado drill and not a robbery. At least her head is down, Megumi thinks. It’s not often he comes across civilians with a decent sense of self preservation.
“Did you hear me, Spiderboy-?” The ringleader’s second taunt is barely finished before there’s two webs flying at him. One aimed for the barrel of his gun, covering his mask, gluing it straight to his face and muffling his mouth.
“Yeah yeah, I fuckin’ heard you,” Megumi grumbles. Criminals loved to call him all sorts of names, he figured it comes with the job, but man did it get old.
There’s two other clowns, lackeys, he supposes. These types hardly worked alone these days. Megumi always wondered if they thought being in numbers would protect them from Spiderman. Again, they never learn.
It takes him all of five seconds to web up their weapons as well. Some glued to their hands and chest, rendering them useless, others so tied up in the sticky string that they couldn’t move any limbs if they tried.
“You think you can go around playing hero and people will respect you for it?” One of the lackeys snarls when Megumi tears the mask from his face. He does the same for the other, but the second clown seems too afraid to speak. Good. “People ‘round here don’t give a shit, Spiderboy. You think they’ll thank you? Heh? You think they’ll throw you a nice parade and chant your name?”
Megumi rolls his eyes, patting down his pockets in search of any identifiable information. Like he presumed, he finds a phone and wallet. Sometimes it felt like these guys weren’t even trying to get away with their crimes.
Paying the lackey clown no mind, he turns over his shoulder and motions to the couple behind the shelf. They raise their heads a little further, eyes wide and seemingly surprised Spiderman was addressing them.
“It’s safe to go,” He tells them with a wave of his hand. “Go straight to the police station to report this”
Does he have faith they’ll listen? No, he assumes they’ll be likely to go home. Megumi doesn’t care much. The police weren’t exactly his allies. But if he was going to do their jobs for them, he was going to have to at least act like he was playing by their rules.
“Playing nice with the cops, tch,” The loudmouth lackey continues on. “When they show up, they’ll take you before they take any of us- mmph!”
“Much better,” Megumi sighs when his webbing does just the trick to shut the guy up. Will he suffocate with it covering his mouth? Of course not, “Breathe through your nose,” He grumbles when the lackey’s face starts to take on a blue hue. “Fucking idiots, you’re all the fucking same” He sighs, dropping the guy’s phone and open wallet on the ground before him, making sure it’s on perfect display for when the cops arrive.
“Th-thank you, Spiderman,” The shopkeeper behind the counter finally begins to lower his hands. It appears he’s still shaking, but Megumi’s sure it’s the adrenaline rush he’s coming down from. He’ll be fine in no time. Especially once the police arrive and whisk these guys away. “I- I don’t know how I can repay you”
“It was nothing” Megumi replies, monotone as ever, but it’s the truth. The whole ordeal was over in the matter of three minutes. A robbery had barely begun when he’d shown up and shut it down.
The shopkeeper looks startled by the less-than-friendly attitude of his savior, but he doesn’t say a word, just picks up his phone to dial up the police.
Megumi’s on the move heading out of the store, ready to make himself scarce before law enforcement shows up, but of course he can’t leave just yet.
“Hey,” He calls towards the last civilian in the shop, the girl crouched on the ground, still covering herself. “Hey,” He calls again when she doesn’t react, taking a few steps towards her. “You’re good to go now,” He says, but even still, she doesn’t move.
It takes a tap on her shoulder for her to startle, finally uncovering the back of her head and looking up at him. She stays on the ground, but now Megumi’s stunned to silence as well as he stares back at her.
(y/n)? He’s grateful for his mask for the millionth time but in a whole new way now. What the hell was she doing out here in the middle of the night?
She doesn’t say anything as she stares up at him with wide eyes. He can’t tell if she’s still in shock, but the longer he waits for her to say something, she doesn’t.
“Are you… alright?”
It’s a normal question to ask, he probably says it a hundred times a night, making sure no one’s left hurt or afraid. But this time, asking her, it felt foreign coming out of his mouth. He’s never been put in a position to… care… about her wellbeing before. But now’s as good a time as any, seeing as she’s still got her knees to her chest and a shell shocked look on her face.
“You’re- you’re Spiderman” Is the first thing she says, her voice barely above a whisper. Megumi could roll his eyes, but he’s too busy waiting for her to get up and get moving.
“And you’re not sitting around here all night, c’mon” He beckons her upwards, and to his surprise she takes it as an offer to grab his hand, and he finds himself pulling her up to her feet.
“You’re a lot taller than I thought you’d be” She mumbles, and if she could see his face she’d watch a look of puzzlement befall him.
“Get that a lot” He mutters, making an obvious motion to eye the hand that she still has gripping his gloved one.
“Oh, sorry,” She’s still quiet, quieter than he’s ever heard her speak before, and it’s starting to intrigue him.
Was she this afraid of a pesky little robbery? He wondered, looking her up and down. She wasn’t trembling, she showed little to no sign of distress at all. For a girl that had nearly gone full armadillo just a few minutes ago, she didn’t seem all that afraid.
“I’m just- uh-” She clears her throat, and Megumi thinks it’s the first time he’s ever heard her stammer, or misspeak at all. “I’m a big fan” She finishes, her quiet voice sounding more shy now than anything else.
Wait, what!?
“A fan?” Megumi repeats in disbelief, and (y/n) smiles softly as she nods her head.
“You don’t get that a lot too?” She asks, inching towards speaking at a normal volume.
This is the part where he leaves, and he knows it. The authorities were bound to be close now, and it’d give him more trouble if he was still around when they got here. He couldn’t be wasting his time, especially on her.
But he lingers there for a second longer anyways. There was an undeniably curiosity creeping under his skin. Never would he have pegged (y/l/n) (y/n), regular goody-goody, as a Spiderman fan. It had him wondering if there was more to her than met the eye.
Maybe she was… a normal person…? Could it be true?
Flashing lights interrupted his thoughts, his head swiveling to see approaching red and blue
“Fuck!” He cursed, and behind him (y/n) covered her mouth to stifle her giggle. Jeez, did she expect some squeaky clean guy to be under the mask? “You’re fine, right?” He asks her, already stepping away to make his escape.
(y/n) nods her head, still giving him an awestruck look. It makes his face feel hot under his mask. Could she really be this enamored with Spiderman? So much so she’s rendered speechless.
“Right- well- maybe stop shopping in the middle of the night and you find yourself in these situations” He tries to be serious, but she grins as she nods back at him in agreement.
“I’ll try my best, Spiderman”
With that he’s out the door and swinging off just before the cops round the corner to the building. He’d just narrowly missed them, but that was the closest he’d come to getting spotted by them in quite a while. Until then, he’d done a good job making a clean getaway.
He huffs and tugs his mask off of his head when he finds a fire escape distant enough to rest at. Of all the crimes he’s interrupted, that was definitely one for the books. And it had nothing to do with the tacky clown masks or shitty execution.
His chest felt tight, an odd feeling creeping into his bones.
Shit. He still hadn’t had a proper dinner.
___
Megumi’s exhausted the next morning when he strolls into class. He’s five minutes late today, but he tells himself that ten is his limit so he’s still doing just fine. He never gets a second glance from the professor anyways- with his grades? His professor wouldn’t care if he didn’t show up to class at all.
(y/n), however, cares very much about Megumi’s punctuality.
“Who taught you to be so disrespectful of other people’s time, Fushiguro?” She mocks a pout at him, already turned around in her seat to bother him as usual.
Megumi gives her a bored look, maintaining eye contact as he opens his notebook to a fresh page. (y/n) raises a brow impatiently, waiting for some kind of response, but Megumi remains silent. This is fitting for him, he rarely engages in her banter these days, but his silence feels different today. Something about the way he looks at her makes her feel like he’s sizing her up, or something.
“What?” The word comes out in a mumble, her brows furrowing as he meets his inquisitive stare with a confused glare.
Megumi purses his lips, shakes his head, taps the eraser of his pencil rhythmically against his notebook.
“Nothing”
It’s all he has to say, and for once (y/n) doesn’t have a snarky remark. She just gives him a weird look and faces forward in her seat again. Maybe he’d caught her off guard by actually speaking to her, even if it was just one word, it’s more than he’s given in a while. Pretty much since the spider bite. Engaging in petty arguments seemed pointless after that.
As he takes notes on the lecture of the day, he can’t help but be drawn to the back of (y/n’s) head. He didn’t like the idea of giving her any of his attention, but his thoughts were drifting out of his control, and he couldn’t stop replaying last night in his mind. The way she looked at him, smiled at him, like he was her hero. And now today he was reduced to the dirt under her perfectly clean shoe. It was like he had a secret about her now. There might not be a way for him to dangle it over her head openly… but he knew, and for now, that was enough.
By the time class ended, Megumi already had his bag packed up, and he was the first out the door. If he got to the next lesson before her, he could claim a seat in the back where she wouldn’t dare be caught sitting. Maybe then he wouldn’t get so distracted.
Even with his heightened senses however, he doesn’t notice the way (y/n) watches him book it out of the classroom, a knot between her brows at his odd behavior. Because since when has Fushiguro Megumi rushed to class? ___
It’s hard not to notice Megumi is avoiding her more than usual. She shared almost every class with him, besides one art course she took, (y/n) saw him every hour of the day. It also helped that being the top two of their class they were always seated somewhere near the front, and closer to each other than either one of them would like.
It doesn’t bother her that Megumi’s been sitting in the back of the class with the other slackers. She couldn’t care less if he decided not to come to class at all- in fact it would be wonderful for her. If his grades slipped just a little bit she could take his spot as top student, a position that was rightfully hers seeing as she was punctual and present in every class. Unlike Megumi, who hardly participated unless asked to, and acted like he couldn’t care less about his status.
She always wondered if he truly didn’t care about his ranking. He certainly acted like he didn’t, rolling his eyes at her comments if he wasn’t ignoring her completely. But was it just an act?
(y/n) made it an effort not to think any more about Fushiguro Megumi than she had to. But sometimes he made that difficult for her. Like now, when he’s sitting in the back of the class with his blocky headphones on. She can’t help but peek over her shoulder at him, eyeing the way he actively took notes from what was on the whiteboard at the front of the class. But how well could he learn if he wasn’t even listening?
He catches her staring not a second later, his bored blue eyes landing on hers and holding her stare. His expression is unchanging, completely neutral as he stares back at her, but it still feels intense. (y/n’s) quick to shoot her eyes forward and begin scribbling messy words in her otherwise neatly kept notebook. Was it just intense because he’d caught her staring right at him? Her face feels warm, her heartbeat kicks into an anxious pattern.
Clearly, whatever his issue was, she needed to just ignore it completely. He seemed to do just fine doing the same, maybe it was time for her to take a page out of his book and give him the same treatment.
Still, her eyes catch him in every hallway, every class, every moment he’s around, she spots and scans him as if there’s going to be some hint as to what brought on his change in behavior.
___
A couple of peaceful weeks were well appreciated, but Megumi must’ve taken them for granted, because tonight was a rough one.
He could enjoy a good fight, he’d grown up a fighter, so it all came naturally to him. Right hook, dodge, web, kick, swing- there were just a few extra steps to his hand-to-hand that came from the spider bite’s abilities. To him, that made the act of fighting all the more fun. He wasn’t afraid to admit he got a certain rush out of beating someone up. When it was justified, there wasn’t a feeling like it.
Getting beat up, however, sucked.
Maybe the guy was on steroids, maybe the adrenaline got to his head and his fight or flight kicked into high gear, Megumi wasn’t sure what his deal was, but he certainly took a beating before finally knocking the petty handbag thief out and getting him webbed up for the cops to take care of.
It wasn’t till he got away and found an alley secluded enough that he was able to check his injuries. He didn’t have to take his mask off to know his head had taken most of the damage. He could taste the blood of his split lip, and feel the hot throbbing behind his eye.
Great. Going to class with a black eye won’t draw any attention.
With a groan he leaned back into the brick of one of the surrounding buildings, trying to even out his labored breathing. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he found his torso littered with black and blue, too. As much as it hurt, Megumi was more irritated than anything. Hiding injuries was the worst part of his secret double life. College kids always wanted to hear the gnarly stories behind visible cuts and bruises. Megumi only hoped his shitty reputation would be enough to keep people away.
He couldn’t sit around for long, there was still a city that needed patrolling, so Megumi kicked off the wall and took a few deep, harsh breaths as he left the alley, ready to go for a swing around the next few blocks to make sure everything was as it should be. Quiet. It was almost one in the morning, most people should be turned in for the night by now.
Just as he reaches the sidewalk and before he can fly off into the air, however, he’s met by a not-quite-stranger.
(y/n) almost runs right into him, speed walking down the sidewalk with her head down, clearly on a mission. Had he stepped out a second later she might’ve crashed into him, but it’s hard for her to not notice the six foot tall man in a head to toe black suit.
For half a second she looks alarmed- rightfully so, a strange man just came out of an alley, if she had half a mind she’d turn and run without thinking. But as expected, Megumi finds she has no sense of self preservation as she looks at the block in her path with a grin.
“You again” She greets him like she knows him now. (She does know him, but she doesn’t know she knows him, you know?) And her smile is so genuinely bright that Megumi starts to feel sick.
“Again,” He sighs, the groan in his voice not going unnoticed. “Didn’t I tell you not to walk around alone this late at night?” His voice still sounds weird, and it’s shortly after that (y/n) notices his hand hovering over his ribcage.
“Did you get hurt, or something?” She ignores him completely, all the while putting her phone in her pocket to give him her full attention.
“I’m Spiderman, I don’t get hurt” Megumi argues, but the wince in his voice is obvious, and (y/n) somehow sees right through it.
“Okay… well… even Spiderman has to go to urgent care sometimes, right?” She tries to be lighthearted, but her smile is wavering now, concern seeping into her features.
Megumi can barely stand to look at her. What is she doing? Staring at him like that, like she knows him, like she cares about him. Can’t she just go the fuck home where it’s safe and more importantly: away from him?
“Tch, I don’t think so” He mutters.
(y/n) frowns.
“Spoken like a true idiot man,” She scolds. Jeez, last time they crossed paths like this she’d said she was a fan, now this? “What is it with you guys and your reputations, huh? You’re not any stronger for toughing out an injury without help, you know”
“I’ll keep that in mind, mom” Megumi argues back. She scoffs, but it turns into a small laugh shortly after.
“You could at least put ice on it, you know” She says, stepping past him and continuing on her way down the sidewalk. Megumi tosses his head back to silently curse at the sky.
“Did I not make myself clear that you should go home?” He calls after her.
“Ice is this way” Is all (y/n) says, and all she has to say to get him to groan at nothing in particular and follow after her.
It’s a good thing it’s so late at night, there’s no one to see Spiderman walking around with some random girl. Surely the papers would have a hay day if even a photo was snapped… he doesn’t even want to think about what kind of headlines they’d come up with.
“I can buy my own ice” He tells her after a minute of walking in silence.
“I know,” (y/n) shrugs. “But so far it seems like you’re letting me hang out with you, so I’ve gotta enjoy it just a little bit longer”
“We’re not hanging out,” Megumi replies dryly. “You’re refusing to go home when it’s the middle of the night and I’m…” He trails off, not wanting to say what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t have to.
“Awe, Spidey’s lookin’ out for me?” She’s smiling at him again, holding her hands behind her back as she looks up at him. “You starting to like me?”
“You’re starting to bother me,” Megumi quips back, but it’s followed by a chuckle he can’t help, and it only seems to endear (y/n) further. “I don’t usually give people follow up warnings,” He mutters with a shake of his head. “What’re you doing out this late, anyways?” He asks before he can help it. “Don’t you have, like, school, or something?” It’s difficult to act like he doesn’t know she spends her nights studying herself to death.
“Maybe I’m going to a party” (y/n) shrugs.
“Tch, no you’re not”
“How do you know?”
“Not dressed like that” Megumi comments, making a point to look her up and down.
(y/n) huffs, but there’s no denying the evidence right in front of them both. She’s wearing leggings that were at least a couple years old, and a large sweatshirt that was teetering the line of well loved and ratty.
“Okay, well, maybe this time I’m not” She says, and Megumi bites back a smile. He’s pretty sure that a girl like (y/l/n) (y/n) has never stepped foot in a house party. And he knows because he hasn’t, either.
“Still not an answer” He reminds her.
“I was going to pick up some energy drinks,” (y/n) finally admits. “It’s a short walk from my apartment to the corner store, I do it all the time. Even without Spiderman watching over me”
He chuckles at that, wondering just how many times she’s made the walk, no matter how short, in the middle of the night. Couldn’t she just get them before she goes home for the day?
“And you just have to go in the middle of the night?” He scolds her, but she doesn’t seem too affected by it.
“That’s when I need them the most” She replies with a shrug.
“You always drink energy drinks that late?”
“What, you worried about me or something?” She fires back, a curious look on her face. “Y’know, I haven’t heard much about you talking to people”
“I don’t”
“You’re talking to me” She points out matter of factly, a tone of hers that Megumi was already far too familiar with.
“You’re kind of leaving me no choice”
(y/n’s) quiet for a moment, and it seems like she’s contemplating something, but whatever it is she doesn’t let him in on, instead smiling and turning her attention to the sidewalk as they walk.
Megumi ducks into the alley next to the convenience store when (y/n) goes in. He’s unceremonious as he drops himself to the ground, sighing in relief to be off of his feet. His hand presses into his ribcage at a weak attempt to relieve the pain as he twists to try and find a comfortable position to sit in. He doesn’t want (y/n) to come back and see him in any sort of pain- it wasn’t a good look for Spiderman to show any sign of weakness.
She’s quick to return, a plastic bag in one hand and a frozen bag of vegetables in the other. Even behind the mask she must understand that he’s pulling a face at her, because she huffs in annoyance.
“They didn’t have ice” She explains, inviting herself to squat down next to him and offer up the vegetables.
“No no, you’re not sitting here,” Megumi bites back a whine when he sits upright in an attempt to urge her to leave. “You need to go back home”
“And miss a personal Q&A with Spiderman?” She replies, a small smile on her face when he finally snatches the vegetables out of her hand. He grumbles a string of incoherent curses as he rests it over where the bruising feels the worst.
“That’s not happening” He mutters.
“This is why I never hear about you talking to people,” (y/n) sighs. “You’re boring”
“I’m not boring,” He argues. “I just don’t have anything to say”
“Well, you could start by thanking me for the veggies” (y/n) replies, tilting her head at him.
Megumi glares at her from behind his mask. He didn’t need to reminder of her insufferable personality. But… watching her smile so softly at him, like she would love nothing more than a thank you from Spiderman… maybe it’s just because he’s injured, but Megumi caves.
“Thank you” It comes out from behind his teeth, and she must know it, but Megumi swears he sees stars in her eyes.
“You’re welcome, Spiderman,” She murmurs back.
It comes out so genuine, so sweet, that there’s a pang in Megumi’s heart. He doesn’t think any of the bruising spread so far up his chest, but it must’ve for him to feel such an odd sensation.
“I have to ask… cause I probably won’t see you again…” Her eyes land on the way his hand tenses and presses the frozen vegetables further against himself. “Why do you do it?”
When he doesn’t answer, she blinks at him, moving her head just enough to tell him that she really wanted him to say something.
Megumi figures she won’t leave him alone if he doesn’t say anything, so he goes with the truth.
“It’s the right thing to do”
He shrugs lamely, and it takes a second for her to react at all. At first it’s a furrow of her brows and a knowing smile, as if he just had to have an answer better than that. But she didn’t know him as well as she liked to think, because she didn’t know Megumi.
When he has nothing else to say, her expression slowly softens, and she hums thoughtfully.
“That’s it, huh?” She muses. “You’re just… a good guy?”
Just a guy, Megumi mentally corrects. He might have heightened abilities, and a better sense of right and wrong than those around him, but he’s never considered himself a hero. Just a guy trying to make things right, trying to keep people safe.
“Guess I try to be” His answer is as lame as his movements.
If he were a superhero, he’d need some help with PR, but somehow, this makes him all the more special to (y/n). She brightens, leans in closer and sets her hand over his, where he’s still holding the cold vegetables.
“Can I tell you something, Spiderman?”
Hasn’t she been talking to him this whole time? If it wouldn’t hurt, Megumi would laugh. Instead he just nods his head and waits for her to continue.
“I want to be a journalist because of you,”
What? Megumi’s face warps into shock at the confession. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. She was on track to be a graduate of the sciences, whichever one she ended up choosing anyways. He always saw her becoming some wealthy astro-physist or some shit. She wanted to give up all of her work in those programs to… write?
“An investigative journalist,” She corrects. “I want to write about the things that matter, and- and I want to be honest, you know? I want people to read my articles and know they’re being handed the truth. There’s not a lot of that around these days…” She trails off.
She didn’t have to tell him about the light Spiderman was painted in. Let’s just say him and Megumi would share the popularity rankings… except no one was raising pitchforks and torches in Megumi’s direction.
“You want to do that ‘cause of me?” Megumi asks, curiosity getting the best of him.
(y/n) nods, trying to bite back her smile but it was still as clear as day.
“I’ll write my first article about you,” She promises, and Megumi’s eyes widen at her sincerity. “If you’ll let me”
“Well you’re not getting an interview” He says, only half joking. (y/n) laughs quietly.
For a moment, he gets that glimpse into her again. The same one he felt the night of the convenience store robbery. There was something in her eye he’d never seen before. Something soft, and real. It dawns on him that he very well may be the only person she’s told about this dream of hers. He wants to ask, but it feels wrong, like he’s prying for something.
“I won’t need one,” She tells him. “Can’t have the people knowing I know you”
“You don’t know me” Megumi replies, maybe too quickly, but he can’t help it.
He tilts his head at her as she gazes at him with too much fondness. Was his reminder that he’s a stranger to her not enough? Sure, she could trust him because he was Spiderman, her safety wasn’t compromised, but that didn’t mean she needed to go confiding in him like this.
Besides, the look she was giving him was making him feel hot, like he was about to break into a sweat.
“I don’t know…” She murmurs thoughtfully. “I just have this feeling… like I do”
That has him leaping into panic mode. That was it, this was done. If he saw her again while he was in this suit, he was going to turn and swing the other direction. She couldn’t be saying things like that, she couldn’t be trying to put the pieces together in her mind. If she were to figure him out, he’d be done for. She put a lot of trust in him tonight, but could he trust her for even a minute? Megumi wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care to find out.
As far as he was concerned, this was the last time he was going to talk to her. He was right to avoid her after the first time- it should have been the last time, but it was too late for that now.
“You should go” He says, pushing himself to stand even through grunts of pain. She looks at him with worry, brows knitted and lips in a frown as she follows him up to her feet.
“Wait,”
She calls to stop him, despite having nothing else to say to him. Well, there were a million things she wanted to say to him, but none of that felt appropriate now. She didn’t really expect him to stand there and hear her out, but he is, and now her mouth is running dry and she’s standing before him frozen. He radiates impatience, without having to say a single word.
“I… I didn’t thank you,” She stammers out. It’s unlike her, but it can’t be helped. She’s always had a little fan-crush on Spiderman since he made his appearance on the news, but after actually being around him that seemed to blossom into a very real crush, even if she’s never seen his face. She can feel a blush heating up her face when she speaks. “For the other night, with- with the robbery,” She clarifies, even though she didn’t have to. “So… thank you”
Megumi hesitates a moment longer, almost expecting her to say something else. She looks like she wants to, her face is growing pink and her hands have begun fiddling with the bag of her energy drinks. But she remains quiet.
He gives her a nod, before handing over the bag of vegetables. (y/n) laughs under her breath as she takes it. It’s lost all of it’s cold, merely a room temperature bag of carrots and peas by now. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to do with it, but she supposes it wouldn’t look good for Spiderman to swing around with it.
“You’re welcome,” He tells her, and it sounds like the most earnest thing he’s had to say to her. He’s always come across as blunt, something (y/n) was surprised by when they first met, but now it’s a blessing. She knows that he means it. “Get home. Don’t make me have to tell you again, alright?”
To Megumi, this is a goodbye. He doesn’t intend to see her again, not like this. It was… interesting, while it lasted, but it could never actually last. It needed to be over before things could get any worse… or she could get any closer to figuring out his identity.
“I’ll try my best, Spiderman”
It’s the same thing she’d left him with before. She wonders if he catches it. With that, Megumi shoots a web and swings off into the night, his black suit blending easily into the night sky.
He did.
___
(y/n) was always punctual, to everything, not just class. But today she found herself in her favorite seat a whole ten minutes early. She hadn’t meant to show up before the professor, but she just couldn’t contain her energy today. She’d woken up before her alarm, got showered, dressed and dolled up in record time, ate a small breakfast on her walk to school, and now here she was. Full of energy as if it wasn’t eight in the morning. Call it waking up on the right side of the bed…
… or having an interesting night that she couldn’t get out of her head.
Never in her wildest dreams did she think that she’d run into Spiderman again. The first time was a little embarrassing, she’d come close to being called a victim, but the second time just happened by chance. It had her heart racing, her face warming, her lips smiling- hell, she was giddy.
He wasn’t anything like she’d thought he’d be, but that just made him all the more enticing to her. He was blunt, maybe even a little crass for a masked hero, but every interaction she’d had with him drew her in more.
She’d meant what she said about getting into journalism, she’d even been looking into transferring her credits next year, even if it meant starting over in a completely new program. Last night, she’d spent her time in bed staring at the ceiling and replaying events in her mind. When she wasn’t doing that, she was mentally writing her first article about The Spiderman.
The Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman had a nice ring to it, she thought. Although she had a feeling that he would laugh at the title of Friendly. Or maybe roll his eyes. It was hard to tell with the mask.
Before she knew it, she found herself doodling said mask at the corner of a fresh page in her notebook. She lifted her pen instantly, surprised at just how zoned out she’d become. There were never doodles in her notebooks. They were perfectly kept, clean, organized, conside, and without any extra graffiti.
She supposes this doodle can stay, though… she had done a rather good job at drawing it, it would be a pity if it went to waste…
Students begin to file into the class and setting up their laptops and notebooks at the desks surrounding her. Without any friends in this class there’s no one for her to talk to, or share the story of her night with.
Then again, she’s not sure she wants to tell anyone about her run in with Spiderman. She hadn’t mentioned it before… although that was because she didn’t need anyone fussing over her being out so late and putting her safety in jeopardy. This time was different, but still…
It felt more special if she kept it to herself.
Today, Megumi comes to class twelve minutes late. She eyes the clock above the doorway just as he ducks in to check the time, but her eyes just as quickly dart back to his figure. It’s hard not to, with the dark purple shiner standing out against the pale skin of his face.
Her eyes flit around the room, just to see if anyone else noticed the state of their late arrival, but every other student seemed too wrapped up in the lesson, and their professor was too deep in his lecture to give Megumi the slightest of attention. To everyone else, Megumi was late as usual. As (y/n) looked at him again, she had an inkling he was the only one who noticed his black eye.
He knew he was going to draw attention, clearly, seeing as his hoodie was up over his unruly hair and his head was down. But he must’ve sensed (y/n’s) eyes on him, because when he looked up it was directly at her.
He was moving to the back of the class again, probably to take that corner desk with the graphite engravings all over it. It would be alarming if she were to say anything to him, although she’s not even sure what she would say. Asking him if he was alright felt weird, and it’s not like she could just shout ‘what the fuck!?’ in the middle of class.
All she could do was stare at him as he took his seat, pull out his notebook, and begin notetaking as usual, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She’s completely turned around in her seat now, still watching him, even though she was missing valuable points of the lesson now. It was hard to pull her attention away- it was weird that no one else seemed to notice him at all.
Where could he have possibly gotten that from? She frowned, despite Megumi ignoring her completely. She was sure that she would’ve heard about him getting into another fight on campus- last time she was getting texts about it while she was reading all the tweets about it. Fights were hot news around here, and if Megumi was involved in a second one, she surely couldn’t have missed it.
Right?
Finally, his eyes catch hers. She doesn’t turn away from him like she had in the past, she holds his stare, trying to communicate with him in silence.
It’s obvious to him, she’s looking at him with that same worried face she’d worn last night. She just didn’t know she was worried about the same person. He raises his eyebrows at her expectantly, as though asking ‘what?’. As though nothing were out of the ordinary at all.
Her lips curl into a frown, almost a pout, and Megumi has half a mind to flip her off to get her to leave him alone. Even in silence, even from opposite sides of the room, she seems to find some way to get under his skin.
He doesn’t, though. Just holds her stare for a minute longer before putting all of his attention into his notetaking.
Megumi told himself that he was done with her, and he was going to be true to his word. Whether he was in the suit or not, he couldn’t have anything to do with (y/l/n) (y/n). Being around her just made things feel… complicated. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but he didn’t want to. He just wanted the feeling to go away.
She sits turned around in her seat even once he’s clearly begun to ignore her again. He can feel her eyes on him, see her watching him out of his peripheral vision as if she was going to figure him out through her stare alone.
He was only pretty sure that she couldn’t.
Eventually she turns around in her seat, but the bouncing of her leg is driving him insane even from across the class. It was like all he could hear- the faint tap of her shoe tapping the linoleum floor. It was louder than the lecture, than the squeak of the marker on the whiteboard, or the students smacking their gum or tapping their desks. His ears focused on it for the remainder of class, effectively ruining his note taking ability.
He’s out of his seat once class is over, snatching his things and not bothering to put them in his bag as he bolts for the door. There’s an itch in his mind telling him to distance himself from (y/n) as fast as he can. The inkling was right, because he doesn’t make it far in the hall before his name is being called.
“Fushiguro!”
A few surrounding students glance in her direction, some even snicker in passing. Megumi wasn’t someone anyone chased after, and certainly never a girl. If this were still high school, his sister would ooh and ahh at him before skipping away, plotting to tease him for it later. But this wasn’t high school, and when he turned around to face (y/n), anyone who was watching made themselves scarce fast.
He doesn’t say anything as she approaches him, the strap of her messenger bag held tight in both hands against her chest.
She opens her mouth, ready to make a smartass comment, but it comes out awkward, not quite right.
“Late to class again cause of a fight, or something?” Even her scoff comes out wrong, sounding like a nervous laugh, strangled and weird. She shifts her weight between her feet.
Megumi’s silent for a long few seconds. Every one that passes feels like eternity, and (y/n) deflates a little more under his stare.
“Sure” He shakes his head, not caring what she wanted to assume about him. If she wanted to think he was that kind of guy, all the better. Spiderman didn’t get into fights before going to class, so the further he could separate himself from him in her mind, the better.
She frowns at his answer, and it looks like she’s actually upset when she stares directly at his dark eye. It looks pretty bad, he knows that. The swelling he could take care of, but the dark purple was another thing. Right now though, he’s more concerned about the way she seems to worry.
“Seriously, Fuhiguro,” She says quietly, hoping to get through to him.
She’s not sure what it is that came over her, but something about seeing him walk into class looking like this made her heart lurch in her chest.
“What happened? Who did that?”
“I fell,” He says dryly, earning a short glare from her. He sighs, shutting his eyes to mask his annoyance before it got the best of him. “Sorry I don’t have an interesting story for you- can I go to class now?”
“Suddenly Mr Punctual?” She snaps back, crossing her arms over her chest. Megumi huffs, shakes his head, uncaring toward her attitude.
“Whatever” He starts to turn away, but she catches him off guard when she rushes to block his path again.
Megumi actually startles when she budges in front of him, having to step back to remove her from his personal space. His wide eyes land on hers, annoyance furrowing his brows as he stares down at her. She’s defiantly raising her chin towards him, eyes narrowed and everything.
“I’m actually asking, you know,” She tells him. “Because no one else is walking around with black eyes-”
“Who cares?” Megumi tries to step out of her way, but she slides in front of him again. The traffic in the hallway is thinning, they would both be late for their next class if she kept this up. “Don’t you have a class to be early for?” He hopes that’s enough to get her to back off.
“I don’t care,” She says with enough assurance that Megumi’s actually surprised. He figured being late to class would throw her into a full breakdown. “Why are you being such a dick about this?”
He scoffs, a bitter smile tugging on his lips, only making him wince as it tears the healing wound.
“Why are you?” He fires back.
“Because,” She says it with such certainty, only to fall short with the rest of her reason. She didn’t know exactly why she felt like someone needed to check in on him, but she knew that she did, and maybe she was the only one who noticed anything was wrong in the first place. “Because… because it’s the right thing to do”
Megumi freezes up at that. All of his muscles go rigid, his jaw tightens, and his eyes flicker over her features rapidly, trying to find any crack in her sincerity. Was she seriously throwing his words back at him right now? Just because of a black eye?
Meanwhile (y/n) feels good about her answer. She’d picked it up from a man she admired so much and it felt right. There was no real reason, just a feeling. She had no idea what emotional turmoil she was putting him through right now.
“(y/n), seriously…” Megumi shakes his head at her. He steps to the side again, but doesn’t leave right away. Her eyes follow his, waiting for him to continue. He hates that she looks so genuinely worried about him. Hates the way it makes his heart race and his fingers tremble. He has to force words out of his throat. “Leave me alone”
Her face falls, but he’s quick to leave once he says it, and this time, she doesn’t chase after him again.
___
In the rest of their classes, she doesn’t try to talk to him again, and does her best not to look his way. Megumi’s relieved… he thinks. It’s for the best that everything returns to normal. Whatever compelled her to reach out to him today was clearly Spiderman’s doing, and he couldn’t have that. Things couldn’t change. His feelings of distaste towards her couldn’t change. He couldn’t start feeling… differently.
With his hood on and his headphones blasting music enough to drown out the noise of the cafe, Megumi tries to catch up on what he’d missed during his first lecture, which was the entirety of his first lecture. Luckily his professor tended to drone on word for word from the textbook, and he could catch up by reading.
Unluckily, it doesn’t take much for him to get sidetracked from his studies. He wants to kick himself when something compels him to look up, only to find (y/n) at Fratboy’s table again.
This again, he tells himself, certain he’ll go right back to his textbook. But he doesn’t move. His focus stays entirely on the table of jocks, without a shred of discretion, to make things worse.
“Not today” (y/n’s) saying when he tunes into the conversation. Does this guy always ask her to sit at his table for lunch? Is he that oblivious? Megumi chews on the inside of his cheek. You’d think he’d try to avoid the idiot jock stereotype a little better.
“C’mon princess, it’s never ‘today’. Why don’t you just say yes to ‘tomorrow’, hm?” Fratboy leans out of his seat, reaching his hand out towards her. (y/n) takes a step backwards, but he’s faster, snatching her by the wrist and pulling her towards the table again.
Megumi bristles, watching the situation with the eyes of a hawk. If looks could kill, this would’ve been enough to get Fratboy’s hand off of her. Even if he wasn’t hurting you, it was unwanted, that much was clear just by watching her body language.
“I really don’t feel that way about you,” (y/n) snaps, tugging her arm to get herself out of his grasp. He doesn’t release right away, and Megumi almost gets to his feet, but with a second tug he lets go of her, and (y/n) takes a large step back, keeping both arms close to her body in case he tries to reach for her again. “Leave me alone” She barks at him, turning to walk away.
If Fratboy says something else to her, Megumi misses it. His focus is dialed up to one hundred, and as soon as (y/n) separated herself from him, Megumi hadn’t paid a second glance to Fratboy at all. He wonders how long she’d felt his watchful eyes before she actually turned towards him. Her eyes skirt around the cafe for a second, trying to find where the prickling feeling of being watched was coming from, and it doesn’t take long for her to find him. Her bitter expression softens when she spots him, an odd feeling replacing the discomfort of being talked down to and manhandled.
Maybe because as soon as Fratboy follows her line of sight and sees Megumi’s hard stare set in his direction, he turns towards his table again and quickly engages himself with his friends, not bothering (y/n) with even a second glance. She watches this unfold, before looking back at Megumi again, curiously. Despite her being left alone now, he’s still staring at her, maybe waiting to see that she’ll get to her table without being bothered again, she’s not sure.
Either way, she grows still under his direct gaze. She didn’t know how to describe it, but she’s sure she’s never had anyone look at her like that. With an otherwise neutral expression, there was so much anger behind Megumi’s eyes that if she didn’t know better, she might be just as afraid as Fratboy. However something told her not to be, something told her that the anger wasn’t directed towards her. It takes a great deal of effort for her to turn her back on him and head towards her table, but even as she walks away she can’t help but glance back at him again. He’s already returned to his book by then, but her intrigue doesn’t end there. She spends the rest of her lunch in near silence while surrounded by her friends, her thoughts too busy for her to keep up with meaningless chit chat and gossip.
That night (y/n) wanders the sidewalk between her apartment and the convenience store up and down until her feet are too tired to carry her anymore. She walks the familiar path, back and forth, over and over, between the hours of ten and two, her eyes fixed on the sky, peeking down alleyways, her fingers crossed, her heart racing. Nothing comes of her walk. She returns home with a sense of disappointment, and a will to try it again.
___
Megumi’s growing tired of this game of hers. He’s not sure why she insists on doing this every night, it had been four nights now and she had nothing to show for it, so why was she still out there pacing the sidewalk like a maniac?
It took all of his energy to patrol the streets and keep an eye on one particular sidewalk- one particular girl. He was one guy. Did she really think this was safe for either of them? He very well could be missing a crime happening two blocks over because he’s too busy checking in on where she’s chosen to wander. Did she really think this was enough to capture his attention?
Well, it had caught his attention, seeing as every other five minutes he was swinging back in this direction to make sure she was still alive down there.
Was she trying to learn a lesson the hard way? Megumi spent his time watching her with bitterness. She was smarter than this, he knew it, so what the hell was she thinking?
Deep down he’d already confirmed his worries, but he’d hoped that she’d give this stunt up eventually. He still saw her around school, even if she’d stopped bothering him, he could see the toll that staying up like this was taking on her. She always had an energy drink or a coffee on her desk, and Megumi doesn’t think he’s ever seen her look so disheveled. It had him wondering if this was starting to impact her grades, too.
This is why he shouldn’t have spoken with her the last time. He should’ve swung off in the opposite direction. Because now she was on his mind, she had him worrying, swinging all around the block she was pacing while trying to keep an eye on the rest of the city- it was exhausting for him, too.
He shouldn’t be sitting here worrying about her sleep, or her grades. His bottom line should be safety. And she was safe. So why couldn’t he just leave her be?
With a groan he stops his swinging to land on one of the surrounding buildings. He rips his mask off his head, groaning through his irritation before raking his hands through his already messy hair. She was driving him crazy, and he was sure that she knew it too. This little back and forth walk of hers, she was taunting him with it.
Throwing himself down to sit on the edge of the building, Megumi peers over his knees to check on her yet again. She’s slowed her pace, which hopefully means she’s getting tired and will return to her apartment soon.
With a huff, he props his head in his hand, wondering what he was going to do about this. It wasn’t as easy to make her hate Spiderman as it was to make her hate Megumi. Hell, it might not be a bad idea to just reveal his identity to her, she’d probably want to forget about Spiderman all together, then.
Of course, that was a stupid idea, but Megumi was fresh out of good ones.
When he lifts his head again, compelled by some invisible force to check just one more time that she was alright, he’d looked just in time. He barely had the time to pull his mask back on his head before he was leaping off the building and swinging down towards her, half flying and half falling through the air as fast as he could to get to her before whatever figure lurking around the corner could.
Shit, shit, shit.
It happens so fast, she’s lucky she didn’t pee herself from the whole thing. She’d just reached the end of her pace, about to turn around and wander the other direction when she finally saw a very unsettling figure come around the corner. With disheveled clothing and a stagger that sent up warning flags of intoxication, (y/n) instantly stopped in her tracks, and started to shuffle backwards.
He never said a word to her, but from looks alone she got the feeling of what he was thinking. Nothing good.
However before she could get herself to start running, someone else came into view.
There’s barely a second for her to show her relief when Spiderman shows up, seemingly out of nowhere. She’s not sure his feet even touched the ground before he had an arm around her and was swinging off again. He doesn’t have to tell her to hold on, she just clings, with all her might, she winds her arms around his neck and keeps her knees locked on either side of his hips.
The sensation of swinging through the air is not the one she always dreamed of enjoying- the wind is harsh, whipping her hair around all directions and snapping against her face unpleasantly. Even with her face buried against her savior’s chest, the cold air nips at her.
Even once he’s clearly landed, it takes some prompting for her to let go of him, and open her eyes.
When she does, she barely gets to open her mouth before he’s laying into her, and she should’ve seen it coming, but she can’t help but deflate.
“What the hell were you thinking!?”
He’s yelling, and at first she wonders if he’s worried about people seeing, but a quick glance at her surroundings and she realizes they’re on the roof of a building. No one would be hearing them here.
“Were you seriously trying to get yourself into trouble? Because you were about this close to it,” He raises his pinched fingers for emphasis, but gives her no time to answer. “You better not have done something so stupid just cause of me-”
“I didn’t- well- well I didn’t necessarily” (y/n) tries to explain, but the words just aren’t coming as fast as her mouth is moving and she’s left gaping at him.
Megumi was not putting up with it. What did he have to do to get it through her head?
“I can’t be spending my nights keeping an eye on just you because you feel like putting yourself in harm’s way for a fucking rush,” He snaps. “You pull shit like that again (y/n) and I’m not going to be there next time, you understand?”
Her mouth shuts. She nods her head.
“Jesus Christ,” Megumi puts his hands to his head, turning and walking off as if they weren’t stranded on top of a building.
Well, (y/n) was stranded. Spiderman had the means of getting himself anywhere.
She wants to follow him, but instinct tells her to stay put while he paces and continues to scold her.
“You’re goddamn lucky I was there, you know that?” He’s not even looking at her, but she nods her head again anyways. She knows. “I should really go back there and beat the shit out of that guy” He starts to mutter to himself, going on incoherently, and (y/n’s) blood starts to run cold.
“He- I mean, he didn’t do anything” She mumbles, her voice hardly above a whisper, but he seems to hear her just fine, stopping in his tracks and turning his head towards her.
“Are you serious?”
Her mouth opens and closes a few times before any words come out.
“It’s not like he… he said anything, or did anything to me” She clarifies. Spiderman’s mask is incapable of expression, but she had a feeling the man behind it was glaring at her. She could feel that familiar prickle of a harsh stare.
It’s silent for a long moment before he finally turns completely towards her and walks back in her direction. She keeps her feet firmly planted, willing herself not to back away or cower, but having him come stand so close to her had her throat closing up. He towered over her so much she had to lean her head back to look up at his mask. If he was going to yell, she was bound to flinch.
“You have no idea what he was capable of doing,” He doesn’t yell. In fact his voice is so eerily low she almost shivers. “If you want to gamble your life on some drunken lowlife’s imagination, that’s your business,” He adds, and she blinks away the tears welling up in her eyes as the gravity of the situation really sunk in with his words. “But at least have the decency to do it far away from me. Because if it were up to me I’d go back there and kill that guy right now”
She blinks a few more times, but still, a tear slips down her cheek.
“I-I’m sorry,” She whispers shakily, the lump in her throat growing hotter when she tries to speak. “I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to- I-”
Megumi sighs as more tears begin to fall from her eyes. Her brain was playing catchup and it was clear she was too tired to handle any of this right now.
“It’s alright,” He says, but it’s obviously not enough to calm her down, so against his better judgment, he tries his hand at comforting her. “Hey, c’mon, you’re alright,” Reaching out to her, he hesitates before placing his hands on either side of he face, wiping her tears away on the soft material of gloves. “Breathe,” He instructs quietly, and waits as her shudders slowly morph into slow, heavy breaths. “There you go, that’s it. You’re alright,” He tries to remind her that where she is now, she’s safe. “You’re here”
It takes a few more deep breaths, but eventually he steers her clear of a full blown panic attack, and her heartbeat returns to a normal pace.
With one last deep breath, (y/n) closes her eyes on her exhale, and Megumi finally drops his hands from her head, sure that she isn't going to start back up again.
“I have trouble sleeping,” She tells him quietly, her eyes focused on the ground. “It started in high school, I uh… I’m kind of a nerd, I guess,” She admits. “My parents really cared about my grades and success and I guess I just… went with it. Started staying up through the night to study and get ahead the rest of my class and… never dropped the habit”
Megumi softens, although she’d never know it.
“That doesn’t sound so healthy,” He says quietly, not knowing what else to say. She scoffs, smiles bitterly, shakes her head back at him. “We should get you back home, yeah?”
Realizing what he meant, she looks back at him with a wince, and he can’t help the small chuckle at her reaction.
“It’ll be alright. I’ll take it easy, promise” He says, crossing his finger over his chest for emphasis.
“What, like I’m gonna find some way to sue Spiderman?” She mutters back.
He holds his arms out to her, carefully grabbing her by the forearms to loop them around his neck.
“Just hold on and keep your head down, it’ll be over before you know it”
Her face heats up when his arm comes around her back and he presses her even closer. She can’t stop her squeak of surprise before it comes out, and it must startle him, because he’s quick to ask her if she’s okay.
“Yeah I- I’m fine” She stammers back, feeling her blush grow hotter.
Megumi takes off without a warning, thinking it’ll be easier to rip it off like a bandaid than to count down before a jump. All of her limbs tighten around him, forgetting about modesty as soon as they’re in the air. She presses her face as far into his shoulder as she can to keep herself blinded from the surrounding area. Until now, she wouldn’t have said she was afraid of heights.
She’s at least able to give him her address, a shaky whisper in his ear before she’s buried into his shoulder again.
When he lands on her fire escape, he helps her to her feet, trying not to chuckle at how wobbly she is.
“Don’t get sick on the suit, you have no idea how much of a pain it is to dry clean this thing” He tries to lighten the mood, and is surprised that he’s successful in doing so, earning a small laugh from her.
“You say that to all the girls you swing home, Spidey?”
“Not a fan of the nickname. Or the insinuation” He’s back to his usual dry self in no time.
“Well you have to have a nickname, we’re friends now, aren’t we?”
He’s supposed to leave now. He should leave now. This was exactly what he was afraid of happening, her getting attached. That burden was only on her of course, there wasn’t a chance Megumi was going to get drawn in when it comes to her, not when he knew the consequences.
“Spideman already is a nickname” He mutters like it’s obvious.
(y/n) let’s out a breathless laugh, and tosses her messy windswept hair behind her shoulders.
Megumi hasn’t left yet, why isn’t he leaving?
“Well, then there must be some other name I could call you..?” She trails off with her question, stepping forward and eyeing him curiously.
Megumi’s frozen. Was she really suggesting he reveal himself to her? Obviously he couldn’t do that…
“I’d just like to thank you, again,” She says, a small smile on her lips as she takes another step forward.
If he’s not leaving, Megumi knows he most definitely needed to step away from her before she could press any closer. Carrying her to swing her home was one thing, that was closeness out of necessity, but this- this was too much, and he was freezing up.
“And, um, properly,” She adds in a soft murmur, her eyes flickering over his mask.
He briefly wonders what she’s looking for, but it’s quickly answered when she reaches up towards him, her fingers brushing the space between his mask and the rest of the suit. It’s fitted so well it’s nearly impossible for someone to find the disconnect between the two- unless of course you’re standing directly in front of him, which she was.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word, but the gulp he swallows is visible to her with how close she is. The tips of her fingers barely slip under the material of his mask, they graze his skin in a touch featherlight yet searing hot.
Without any indication from him that she should stop, curiosity gets the best of her and she carefully begins to slide the mask upwards, her eyes excitedly watching the expanse of his now exposed neck. Almost as pale as the moonlight, she drank up the sight of his skin as if it was a completely new sight to her.
When she gets to his chin, his hand snatches her wrist. It’s a quick action, but surprisingly gentle. He barely grips her arm, his touch merely a warning.
“You shouldn’t” He says, the lump in his bobbing throat preventing him from saying anything more.
She looks up into the expanse of white that made for the compelling eyes of the mask. Wondering if she was making proper eye contact with him, she shakes her head reassuringly.
“I won’t go too much further,” She murmurs. Followed by an even softer, “Promise”
His better judgment clean out the window, Megumi lets go of her hand, and allows her to proceed.
Using both hands now, she bunched up the end of the material until she was able to gather it at his nose where it would stay put, leaving everything from his neck to the tip of his nose on display for her.
She smiles at him, almost knowingly, and it makes him nervous. Everything about this makes him nervous, this cold sweat she was putting him through was torture. Even more so when her fingers begin to softly trace over the exposed parts of his skin.
“I knew you were handsome” She whispers shyly, but her eyes glimmer with excitement.
Megumi chuckles, the corners of his lips barely quirking into a smile, prompting her to hover the pad of her thumb over them as well. She doesn’t quite touch his lips, too cautious of the healing cut over the bottom one.
“How could you know such a thing?” He mumbles, keeping his voice low out of worry that she’d recognize it without the muffle of his mask.
“I don’t know,” She giggles softly. “Your voice, maybe. And you’re tall”
“I don’t think you have very good standards” Megumi murmurs.
“I think it’s completely fair for a girl to have a little crush on the man who saved her,” She replies, face warming up from such a confession. To her delight, it gets another smile out of him. “Who knew you smiled so much under there?” She says before she could think twice about it. “I was starting to think you were that stoic, mysterious type”
“I could be” He mumbles, and he finds himself taking her hand before she could finally touch her fingers to his lips.
She’s more than enticed to, with how pink and alluring they were, she’d been dying to kiss them since she’d lifted his mask, and hoped he’d give her the chance, seeing as he hadn’t tried to cover the bottom half of his face just yet.
She’s never looked at him like this before. And to be fair, Megumi had never looked at her like this either. He’d had no idea how pretty she was, like this, with her eyes half lidded and half focused, staring intently at his lips, giving away all of her thoughts without having to voice them. Her long lashes seemed to grow heavier with every slow blink. She’s hardly looking up at him now, all of her attention on just one thing, and Megumi was starting to run out of reasons why he shouldn’t indulge her.
The hand that he’s not keeping away from him reaches out again, fingers skimming his jaw before curling around it with the softest touch. She doesn’t pull him with much force, but Megumi finds himself following her movements as she guides him down, closer to her height.
It wasn’t right to kiss her. It was actually the exact opposite of what he’d been trying to do here. How the hell did he wind up in this situation?
“Thank you, Spiderman” She whispers, her lips ghosting over his with every syllable.
Ah, fuck it.
His hand releases hers only to reach for the back of her head and pull her in the rest of the way, his lips capturing hers passionately. Not expecting him to make the first move, she’s delayed in reacting, her hands sliding around the back of his neck and kissing him back with just as much fervor.
So lost in the kiss and how softly his lips move over hers, she almost forgets about the minor detail that his identity is still a secret to her, but even if it crosses her mind, she doesn’t care.
Her fingers press into the small strip of skin exposed at the nape of his neck, and while she longs to dig them under the back of his mask and lift it off of his head, it's not out of a desire to expose his identity. It’s purely because she’d love to run her hands through his hair, followed by a curiosity of what that would feel like.
Was his hair long? Soft? Coarse? Was it shaggy? Was it shaved? The mystery of it all had her mind buzzing and her feet pushing her to the tips of her toes to meet his lips in one last kiss before he could pull away.
The final kiss is softer than the rest, so gentle and slow, it was the perfect first, and last, kiss.
Not that she could tell the difference, but Megumi had a hard time opening his eyes again when he pulled away. He didn’t move far, his hand still cupped around the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair. A part of him hoped they’d be so knotted together that they wouldn’t ever have to leave this moment.
When he does find the courage to look at her, he’s mentally kicking himself.
Megumi’s sure that the reason the sky was so dull tonight was because all the stars were trapped in her eyes, now being gifted to him under her precious gaze. Her lips curled into a slightly swollen smile, her cheeks pink with color despite the sun being nowhere in sight, it was perfect, she was perfect, and he can’t believe he’s spent so long missing out on it.
Shit, shit, shit.
“You…” He starts, but he doesn’t know where he’s going. His head is in the clouds, beyond the clouds, he was completely unreachable. (y/n) giggles softly at how quickly he’d become tongue tied. “You should pursue the journalist thing, alright?”
Brows slightly drawn together from the seemingly random comment, she nods back at him in a small motion.
“You think?” She murmurs back, her hand squeezing his. It sends a wave of warmth through his arm and into his chest, and Megumi has to fight the urge to frown, because his mouth was still exposed.
Pulling his hand from hers, he touches it gently to her jaw, then her cheek. She leans into his touch, welcoming it completely. Her smile only grows upon feeling the warmth of his palm through his glove.
“I have a feeling that you’d succeed at anything you put your mind to,” He says, and it’s sort of cheesy, but it’s the absolute truth. Her lips part in surprise at the sudden seriousness in his tone, but she doesn’t say anything, just lets his words linger on her mind. “No more middle of the night walks, though, alright?” He says, shaking her head just a tiny bit to make sure it would get through her thick skull. “If you can’t sleep, just put something on tv, like a normal person”
Her hand raises to cover the back of his, cradling it against her face sweetly. Megumi thinks the sight will be ingrained in his memory for the rest of time.
“Then how will I see you again?” She says, only half teasing. Her eyes are wide and hopeful, and Megumi stalls by brushing his thumb over her cheekbone a few times.
“I’ll be around” He murmurs, nodding his head through his uncertainty. Was it a good idea to see her again?
(y/n) nods back at him, before letting his hand go and reaching for the bunched up material of his mask, pulling it back over his face.
It was hardly a good idea to see her this time, and she’d actually needed his help. Look where that had lead him.
“I hope so,” She mumbles, seemingly just as uncertain as he was.
He finally drops his hand from her head, fingers carefully detangling themselves from her hair so as not to irritate her head, or maybe he just needed to linger near her a little longer.
Who was he kidding. He was going to find himself in this position sooner or later, wasn’t he?
“I guess… you know where to find me,” She says, wrapping her arms around herself, even though it was a nice night with no breeze. She squeezes herself for comfort.
When did it start, exactly? Was it the little secrets she confided in? Or her worry when he’d shown up to class a few days ago with a black eye? Megumi struggled to pinpoint when things took a turn down the path of no return.
“If you change your mind on that interview…” She adds with a soft smile. She hopes he’s smiling back at her.
He is.
“I’ll know where to find you,” He repeats, hoisting himself onto the railing of her fire escape, and standing up on the thin bar with complete balance. He made it look easy. “Goodnight, (y/n)”
“Goodnight, Spiderman”
He took off then, completely silent as he leapt from the escape and swung off, nearly invisible in the darkness.
(y/n) couldn’t help but sit outside her window a little longer, replaying the events of her night yet again, and wondering just how he figured out her name.
___
Megumi had resigned to sitting in the back of all of his classes for the rest of the year.
It’s not a huge deal, he can learn fine from any seat in the class, and as he realizes this he comes to realize that there was never really a good reason why he chose to sit near (y/n) before. All of his complaints that she was an obnoxious bother had dissolved into… nothing. He chose to sit near her every day. Whether it was right behind her or two seats away, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he always chose to be near.
And now that he wasn’t, it was driving him crazy. He longed to be closer, to sit behind her again, maybe even right next to her. Had he really been so dense all this time?
Though their interactions had been swindling since he’d put more focus into Spiderman than he had in school, (y/n) hadn’t spoken a word to him since their argument in the hall, and that was almost two weeks ago now.
The last thing she’d said to him, she’d said to Spiderman, not Megumi. Still, he tries to keep the soft, precious way she’d bid him goodnight in his memory. He didn’t want to forget a single moment of the last time he’d spoken with her, not the things she said, not the way she touched his skin so delicately, and certainly not the kiss.
Megumi leans his chin into his hand now, fingers covering his mouth nonchalantly. However when he presses the pads of his fingertips against his lips, it’s not the same.
They caught eyes here and there, but that wasn’t the same either. He’d come into class late, she’d cast him a short glance, but it was always quickly returned to the front of the room. Not so much as a taunting glare was directed his way. It was safe to say he’d finally gotten her off his back… and he’s never felt like such an idiot.
It was worse outside of classes.
He’d spend his nights swinging around town, lazing through patrol, busting perps when they came around, but crime was dwindling by the day, it seemed. He liked to think that Spiderman was making a difference, but he’d been a little rough around the edges lately, and he knew deep down his reputation was morphing into a ruthless fighter.
Spiderman wasn’t just keeping peace, he was keeping criminals in fear. Not that Megumi was perturbed by this- for one, he’d long held that reputation already, so living with it as Spiderman felt no different. Secondly, the quiet nights were comforting.
The free time was starting to become a problem, though. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to visit her. He’d be aimlessly swinging and the next thing he knew he was on her block, near her building, almost approaching the very fire escape at her window where they’d last seen each other. It’s difficult to make himself turn around and swing the other way, especially on the clear nights when he can see her light is on, and he knows she’s awake.
She’d kept her promise, it seemed. He’d swing by often enough to notice the flicker of a tv screen, just close enough to know she was home and safe, but he tried not to linger too long. He didn’t want her seeing him checking in, and he definitely didn’t like the idea of sitting outside her window like a creep.
More than that, he feared that she’d be delighted to see him again.
It had been a week since that night on her fire escape- with the rescue, the kiss- and Megumi really tried to keep his distance. He indulged himself in passing by her window more times than he could count, but he was careful to keep himself hidden, so she would have no idea his watchful eye was never too far. If he kept this up, he hoped that she would forget about it altogether. That’s what would be for the best.
Sitting across the street perched on the roof of a building like it was the most natural place in the world to sit, Megumi dropped his chin in his hand as he stared longingly at the only lit up window in the apartment building across the street. At this point, he’d probably spent more time looking at that window than he had in his own home.
He didn’t want to forget about what happened. He didn’t want her to forget about what happened.
His mask crumpled in his other hand, he tore his gaze away from the window to stare down at it, cursing it mentally for giving him everything only to ruin it.
It wasn’t Spiderman’s fault, though. Megumi was just as much responsible for the rift he’d put between himself and (y/n), long before that damned spider bite. He’d always pushed her off, kept her at arm’s length or further, if he could help it. He was the one stubborn enough to never let anyone in. He was the one that pushed her into treating him with the same insufferable attitude he’d directed at her, way back then. So much could change within a year, he supposed that was true for everyone, but he couldn’t ward off the self pity that came over him, thinking he’d surely changed too much within a year.
At the feeling of the first raindrop hitting his exposed head, he sighed, running a hand through his hair to dry the following drops of water before pulling his mask over his head again. Of course it’s going to start raining on him when he’s sitting here feeling bad about himself.
He doesn’t intend to get any closer to her building, being right across the street already felt too close, but with the extra cover of the rain starting to pick up, Megumi thought maybe tonight he could get away with being just a little closer. Just close enough to make sure she was okay in there. He might not be able to do anything about her sleepless nights… but it couldn’t hurt to check, right? He would leave as soon as he was sure, and then he would try not to return.
He’s not stupid enough to climb directly onto her fire escape- but then again his being here was pretty stupid already so what was one more idiot move? Instead Megumi perches himself on the one above it, opting to hang over the bottom of it just enough that he could peek through the window.
To his surprise, even though her tv is on along with the rest of the lights in her room, (y/n) is nowhere in sight. He doesn’t think much of this at first, she very well could be in the bathroom, or the kitchen. But just as he tries to rationalize her disappearance, the hair on the back of his neck stands up, and in the next second her window was sliding open.
“Boo!”
Her whisper yell as she leans out the window and towards his dangling head is comparable to that of a child’s. Completely un-scary, and followed by a string of delighted giggles.
Megumi freezes, and he would’ve fallen right off the fire escape if his reflexes didn’t have him shooting out a web of safety to hang by. He’s still upside down, swinging in front of her, but (y/n) leans out further to steady his movement by his shoulders.
“Scared ya good, huh?” She muses. Her grin was a sight for sore eyes. “Serves you right, stalking a girl like that”
“I wouldn’t call it stalking”
“What would you call it then?”
Her hands are still pressed against his shoulders. Megumi’s not sure if it’s to keep him from swinging, or if she was keeping her own balance as she leaned the upper half of her body out her window.
“... is it a crime to visit people?”
“Usually when they’re trying to creep in through a window” She quips back. Her smile only seems to brighten the longer she looks at him- even if she did sort of just call him a creep.
“For the record I wasn’t trying to get in” He corrects, his own smile beginning to grow under his mask. He couldn’t deny how good it felt to see her like this again, to be able to talk to her, even just look at her.
“Just spy from the outside?”
“I don’t like the narrative you’re spinning,” Megumi scoffs. “What happened to honest journalism, hm?”
She giggles at that. The corners of her eyes crinkle as she gazes at him fondly. He liked this side of her banter- the playful side. It was fun.
“So you think you can honestly say you missed me, Spidey?” She asks in a voice made of pure sugar. It rots his teeth, melts his insides, and makes all his senses go fuzzy.
“I thought we weren’t going the nickname route” He deadpans, avoiding the question.
With her smile pursing to the corner of her lips, something about her demeanor changed then.
“It’s only fair, since you know my name,” Her tone is just as light, but her eyes are calculating, and Megumi knows he’s slipped up. And again just now, by not having a quick enough response. “And I’m certain I didn’t give it to you… so… how do you explain that one?”
“Did you think I wasn’t going to have an interest in figuring that out?” Megumi chuckles, hoping he could play it off.
(y/n) presses further out her window, far enough now that the rain starts to dampen her hair, but she appears to pay it no mind.
“I don’t like it when you’re cryptic, Spidey” She huffs.
Again, Megumi laughs.
“It sort of comes with the whole anonymity thing” He answers.
She tilts her head at him, as if she could study him even with the mask on. Megumi couldn’t deny the paralyzing effect it had on him.
“Why does it feel like you’re a stranger to me… but I’m not one to you?” She asks him slowly, as though still debating on asking him at all. “Why does it feel like you know me?”
“You do talk a lot”
Megumi’s grasping at straws now, but at least that gets a small laugh out of her. He hopes it’s enough of a distraction, hopes that she lets things go back to the way they were. He didn’t need her trying to put together the puzzle that was Spiderman, it couldn’t lead to anything good.
“You know what I mean,” She murmurs. She raises a hand off of his shoulder, reaching for the hem of his mask in a way that wasn’t supposed to feel familiar to him. “You think you’d ever tell me?” She asks as her fingers toy with the material’s edge.
“Who I am?” Megumi asks dumbly. Besides the raindrops slowly running down her face, there’s no change in her expression. There’s a glimmer of hope in her eye as her fingers slip under the mask, not quite lifting it yet, but holding it with the clear intention to do so.
The silence lingers until she has her answer, and Megumi thinks this might be the damning moment that he’s been trying to brace himself for. She’ll probably rip his mask right off, and then who knows how she’d react upon seeing it was him all this time. He knew he was faster than her, he could easily swing away before she could have the chance.
A nervous, breathless laugh breaks tension, and she gently peels the mask towards his chin.
“I guess I’ll just have to figure it out on my own, then” She muses playfully.
“An investigative journalist now, are we?” Megumi asks, but there’s no time for further banter when she’s got his mask bunched up at his nose and that’s all the further it needs to go before he’s meeting her lips in a wet kiss.
The rain was not a welcomed experience, it had (y/n) shivering and it was irritating Megumi’s now exposed nose. It made their kiss slippery and messy, and with him still being upside down it didn’t exactly make things any easier.
Neither of them cared.
All of (y/n’s) interests lied in kissing him and then kissing him again- she couldn’t help it, even if he outright refused to tell her his name, he kissed her like a dream.
Shaky, wet palms steadied on either side of his face, trying to pull him even closer. He follows her direction as best he can, but with his hands still occupied with the web to keep him from crashing onto her fire escape, Megumi’s left with his neck craned as far forward as he could push. If he hadn’t held onto the last scrap of his sanity he would’ve dropped down from the railing and crawled right through her window.
He was getting carried away.
“(y)- (y/n)-” Her name is whispered soft and broken into her lips, and she knows this is his way of ending whatever this is, but she can’t help but leave him with one last lingering kiss. He doesn’t push her away, doesn’t even go still against her kiss. He waits, all too patiently, until she has to lean back and catch her breath.
“You’re going to leave,” She says softly. It’s not a question, she already knows. He might think that he’s difficult to read, with his monotone comments and the mask that’s easy to hide behind, but he wasn’t as great of a mystery as he might think.
He frowns. It looks a little awkward upside down. (y/n) gives him a sad smile and carefully maneuvers his mask back into place. It doesn’t take long before she misses the small glimpse of his face that she was allowed to see.
“Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to see you again?” She sighs.
The raindrops on her face could easily be mistaken for tears. Megumi slides his hand out of her hair to dry her face, and he can’t keep away the memory of him drying her actual tears.
“You will,” He assures her, but the nagging feeling doesn’t quite go away. “You just… might not know it”
A lump forms in Megumi’s throat when he says it, and it only grows when her eyes light up with intrigue.
“Is that a hint, Spiderman?” She muses, and he chuckles, shaking his head.
“Get some sleep” He encourages, already lifting himself onto the fire escape of her upstairs neighbor. Disobediently, she pushes herself further out her window to follow his movements.
“I will see you again?” She asks as she looks up at him, not minding the pelting of raindrops soaking through her clothes and hair.
Against his better judgment- as things always seem to be when it comes to her- Megumi nods his head. He doesn’t say a word before swinging away, knowing he’d overstayed his welcome by a longshot. Even without looking back, he can feel (y/n’s) eyes on him as she watches from her window.
And when he thinks about it, he can still feel her lips against his.
___
(y/n’s) not sure of the last time she walked into her 8am class and saw Megumi had gotten there before her. It stops her in her tracks, still in the doorway, staring at the boy hunched over his desk in the back of the class scribbling in his notebook at an alarming rate.
Wait… was he cram studying for their test today?
She scoffs, and he lifts his head to give her a bored glare. Of course he’d noticed her when she’d come in- he’d heard her coming from the hallway- but he wasn’t about to give her the reaction she wanted.
And it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his expression hardened and neutral when it came to her, so Megumi had been trying to avoid looking at her completely.
Keyword, trying.
“Don’t tell me you actually didn’t study” She says, a knowing little grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she looks him up and down.
Megumi holds his blank stare for as much longer as he’s capable of before turning his attention back to his notebook, pen scrawling loudly yet again. (y/n’s) brows raise at the intensity at which he was writing, shocked that her assumptions seemed to be proven correct.
“Wow” She mumbles to herself, before walking straight to the back of the class.
Megumi tries to ignore her, she probably just wanted to click her tongue at him in disapproval before she’d go pick out her favorite seat and ignore him for the rest of the period. But she’s approaching so quickly and suddenly she’s leaning over his desk and he has half a mind to cover his work, as if there was any kind of damning evidence there.
She eyes the messy notes before glancing up at him, his gaze already set on her. For a moment it pins her in place, has her freezing up just as she had a moment ago, but the feeling melts before she could question the severity in his eyes.
“If you want to borrow my notes, you’ll have to ask” He tells her, his voice unwavering and devoid of any emotion. She rolls her eyes at the typical behavior.
“Unlike you, I cared enough to study last night” She replies, and she’s just about to turn on her heel when the unexpected happens, and Megumi actually has a response.
“That so?”
His change in tone irks her, and she can’t put her finger on why. But the tilt of intrigue matched with the way he smirks has her heating up.
Out of irritation, of course.
“Duh,” Her arms cross over her chest defensively. “I’ve been studying all week”
Even as Megumi resumes his note taking, his stupid smirk is still plastered on his face. If she was more inclined to violence, (y/n) would’ve wanted to smack it right off.
“I’m sure you have” He mumbles, watching out of his peripheral vision as her arms shoot down to her sides, hands balled into fists as she gasps and gapes at him. Clearly, she took offense to the comment, and he had to bite back the chuckle at it.
“What are you trying to say?” She snaps at him, but she’s not nearly as intimidating as she wants to be.
“Didn’t really say anything,” He replies, tone holding no emotion again. “You just started freaking out”
“I’m not freaking out,” Her eyes narrowed. “God, why do you have to be so-”
Before she can finish he looks up at her again, and again it’s like he’s stunned her with the way his gaze seems to pierce right through her. He looks pleased with himself, too, as if he was just dying to hear what she was going to come up with.
Peculiarly enough, her throat goes dry, and she can’t quite remember how she was going to finish that sentence. Megumi must figure her out, too, because his smirk almost resembles a smile now, and her heated skin was starting to become unbearable.
“So…?” Megumi repeats curiously, hoping to egg her into finishing her thought.
(y/n) huffs, shaking her head in her agitated defeat before turning around and marching towards her usual seat.
Megumi returns to his work with a smile on his face. Her preference for Spiderman might’ve been clear as day, but there was something satisfying about knowing one way or another, he had a knack for getting her worked up.z
___
Despite her hopes reaching impossible heights, (y/n) hadn’t gotten another visit from Spiderman in quite some time. It had been about two weeks now, and she hadn’t noticed even a shadow outside her bedroom window.
She gives him the benefit of the doubt, because for some reason unknown to her she’d grown to care for him enough to make every excuse necessary. He was doing important work out there, she’d tell herself while sitting at her window, longing eyes looking for any sign of life out in the sleeping city. It wasn’t like he had all the time in the world to spend on her.
Or while wandering the halls from class to class, while her eyes were trying to catch every stranger that walked passed, she hoped to find some flicker of familiarity in anyone. It might’ve been naive of her to think he could be as close to her as being another student at her school, but she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t stop the ‘what ifs’ from plaguing her mind. She was so full of hope it was rotting her from the inside out.
Her focus was never quite all there. In class she’d mindlessly take notes, her attention shifting about the room, trying to catch the feeling of being watched, but she always came up empty handed. There were no eyes on her, she concluded after days of paranoid searching. It was just a placebo effect her mind had come up with in her hoping to find him.
As if she was just going to happen upon him as easily as looking at him and knowing.
It was the same even around her friends. The usual group she’d sit with at lunch had noticed her change in demeanor, but not knowing how to bring it up to her they tended to continue on conversing as if she wasn’t actively ignoring them as she searched the cafe.
“What are you looking for?” One of them had asked one day, a slight wince on their face when she startled and turned towards them again, as if she’d completely forgotten where she was.
“Oh, nothing,” Her reply was less than convincing. “Just spacing, I guess”
Maybe that part was sort of true, but it wasn’t a good enough excuse for anyone to take her seriously anyways. So she was left alone to barely pick at her lunch and scan the cafe with an undeniable skip in her heartbeat.
(y/n) was starting to think she was going crazy, but it was like an itch she couldn’t scratch. She just had a feeling that she was close, and to stop her from chasing that feeling would take a force her lunchtime friends weren’t able to muster up.
Her grades had yet to be affected, but her uptick in strange behavior wasn’t going unnoticed. Her participation had dipped dramatically, some of her classes actually dragging on in near silence as no other students filled the gaps of her incessant questions and comments. It was clear to her professors and peers that behind her wandering eyes was a void of class-related thoughts. Whatever was occupying her every passing minute, had nothing to do with her studies. But she maintained her perfect grade point average so effortlessly it was difficult to reprimand her for her lack of attention in each class.
Megumi had watched from the background as her sanity seemed to slip further and further. At first, it had been a bit amusing. He’d noticed right away, the way her eyes caught every guy walking into class, the way she seemed to pick each one apart with only her eyes. She must have been gauging whether or not she deemed every one of them capable of being Spiderman. It was hard not to smile to himself when she’d ultimately look away from each one, unconvinced.
One was too short, the next too tan, another just didn’t have the right vibe, Megumi wished he could read her thoughts as she scrutinized each passerby in silence. He was never too far from her, so it was easy to watch the hope radiating off of her as she tried to find the source of the eyes on her. Luckily for Megumi’s rapid senses, he was always facing another direction when her gaze flickered his way. Not that she ever quite looked at him the way she looked at the others. He could feel her eyes sweeping right past him, pausing on a boy sitting just a few seats to his left instead. But yet again she was facing away and trying to come up with someone else.
Megumi wondered why it was that she felt so sure Spiderman was in this very school with her. Tokyo was a heavily populated place, and he knew she was smarter than to assume he was this close to her all this time.
(Of course… he was… but how could she have any idea of that?)
With every passing day she seemed a little more dazed. Which was an interesting look on a know-it-all like her. Her interest in the world around her took a nosedive, and it was obvious to a watcher like Megumi. She looked like a gray spot surrounded by the bright yellow of her lunch table. She stuck out like a sore thumb in every class, finally having learned to pipe down and retreat in on herself. She didn’t look depressed, it was just clear as day that her interests were on anything but what was going on around her.
Again, he’s entertained by this for some time. There’s a swell of pride and something warm and new in his chest whenever he sees her so openly looking for him. Hopeful eyes scanning every crowd, every class, only to never properly focus on him. He should feel relief that he doesn’t seem to be even a passing possibility to her. Instead, all he feels is a few skips in his heartbeat knowing she thought he was someone worth searching for.
Well, Spiderman was someone worth searching for, at least.
But the entertainment drains fast when her preoccupied mind lands her crashing into someone in the cafe. A freezing cold iced coffee is dumped all over the front of her pretty blouse, ruining it instantaneously. Megumi happens to look up just as the incident takes place, the hair on the back of his neck standing up on alert and his eyes finding her in the crowd in a moment’s notice, just in time to watch her crash.
And just as she steps away from the person she’s crashed into, her focus shifted to her soaked and stained shirt, an unsettled feeling crawls over Megumi’s skin as he notices who it was she just so happened to run into.
The frat boy that had been bugging her not too long ago. The annoying guy, yeah, that one. Megumi was pretty damn sure this run in wasn’t as accidental as it looked, but he stayed seated at his empty table, with faux attention on the book in his hand.
His eyes hadn’t returned to the page since his little sixth sense had drawn them towards the whole situation. It’s upsetting that he isn’t surprised to see that when (y/n) hurries out of the cafe, Fratboy follows.
He huffs, shutting his book without marking it and tossing it haphazardly into his bag. He hadn’t even gotten to finish his lunch. Maybe he could sneak a few bites in his next class.
(y/n’s) trying not to tear up as she rushes into the empty corridor outside of the cafe. It wasn’t like her to cry over a stained shirt, but it was just so embarrassing to have to go the rest of her day with the obvious mark. Not to mention it was cold and wet and sticking to her skin and- jesus, of course it was soaked through enough that the black bra she wore was visible now.
Even as she pried the material forward off of her skin, she could still feel the sticky remnants of coffee underneath. It wasn’t like she had a spare outfit in her car, and she still had three classes left in her day. Was she really stuck in this wet shirt until then?
“Sorry princess, it was an accident, swear!”
And to make matters worse, it appears she’d been followed.
(y/n) can’t help the groan of frustration as she releases the material of her shirt, letting it stick to her torso again.
“It’s… it’s fine, it’s whatever” She grumbles, waving off the guy she recognized as the cafe bother, or so she coined in her mind, never having gotten his name during all the times he’d hit on her. There’s not much sincerity in her words, but she doesn’t need him lingering around while she tries to decide what to do.
“I did try to dodge ya, but you really weren’t looking where you were going,” He continues, despite her obvious disinterest in his entire presence. “Is there anything I can do?”
He comes closer and on instinct she backs away. Her expression alarmed and eyes cautious when he pressed closer anyways. It’s not that she thinks he’s going to hurt her, but she doesn’t want him any closer than arms’ length. Ten feet would be nice, but unless she wanted to draw more attention to herself by turning and booking it down the hall, arms’ length would have to do.
“No” She answers, as firm as she can get herself to be. To her, this is the part where he should walk away.
He looks apologetic as he steps forward again, but this time her step backward has her almost up against a wall, and now her senses are on high alert. Discomfort courses through her, a feeling worse than the cold coffee sticking to her skin.
“C’mon, I could at least help you get out of your-”
Fratboy doesn’t get a chance to finish his statement when a harsh grip lands on his shoulder and pries his body to move with ease. His initial reaction is to fight back against the force, but he doesn’t get to do that either, as he’s spun around and shoved into the wall.
Even the snarl on his expression disappears when it’s Fushiguro Megumi that presses in close and keeps him pinned to the wall. His bruising grip is replaced by his entire forearm caged against his collarbone, just barely pressing against his throat.
A yelp dies in the back of (y/n’s) throat as the whole thing happens in a matter of seconds. It’s as if she blinks and suddenly Megumi’s there prying this guy out of her personal space as if he was personally offended by the act.
“H-hey man, what the hell is your problem?” The waver in Fratboy’s voice is embarrassingly clear. Megumi would laugh if he was in a joking mood. He’s not.
His hard expression is terrifying up close. (y/n’s) standing just a few feet away and even she feels a slight shiver go down her spine.
“Pricks like you,” Megumi mutters, and Fratboy swallows a fat lump in his throat. “Skipping around like you’re hot shit and get to have anything you want. Pretentious pricks” He spits the last part out through clenched teeth.
All (y/n) can think about were the rumors from last year. The guy Megumi supposedly put in the hospital. Those rumors had been enough to have people steer clear from him. She didn’t even let herself get too close when pressing his buttons, even if intrigue plagued her mind.
“I didn’t- I didn’t do anything!” Fratboy tries to raise his voice, a pitiful attempt at puffing his chest and making him appear more of a fighter than he really was. His head swivels, wide eyes landing on (y/n), who was stuck frozen watching it all unfold. “Tell him!” He shouts at her, and she startles just a little. Not because she was afraid of the demand, but because as soon as it came out of his mouth, Megumi’s foot brought enough force to have the guy’s legs straighten up, which in turn kept him further back into the wall.
If Megumi could push the guy clean through the white painted brick, he’d be a bloody mess stuck inside of the concrete already.
“Don’t look at her,” The command comes out in a growl. Megumi didn’t need to raise his voice to sound tough. His brows are furrowed tight and low over his piercing eyes, which were half the force keeping Fratboy against this wall. “Humor me, prick,” Megumi asks, making sure his attention couldn’t be drawn back towards (y/n) a second time. “How come your shirt’s so pressed ‘n clean?”
The guy’s lip wobbles a bit before he manages a small “H-huh?”
“Your shirt,” Megumi’s voice is colder this time for having to repeat himself. “How come it’s so clean?”
“I- I- because I do my laundry?” He asks weakly.
Megumi rolls his eyes, letting them fall shut as his head tilts towards the high ceiling. This guy had to be joking.
“Wrong answer,” He huffs. “I’m gonna let you go, and you’re gonna go buy yourself another overpriced pretentious fucking coffee, got that?”
Fratboy’s brows furrow, but he nods his head shakily in response. Perhaps Megumi’s arm was pressed too hard against his chest, and he was finally out of air. Megumi could only hope.
“And you’re gonna take that coffee and dump it over your head”
“What!? I’m not-”
“So you’d rather take the beating?” Megumi asks before the guy could protest too much. His brows are raised, his interest genuinely piqued. He had no problem with either option. Having this prick walk around with a broken nose or an expensive shirt with a big brown coffee stain seemed like a win-win situation to him.
It’s clear that Fratboy remembers the last prick that pissed off Fushiguro Megumi, and he must remember that he wasn’t given options, because the back of his head defeatedly hits the wall behind him when he mutters out his choice.
Megumi gives him a solid nod, and he only pushes him a little bit when he drops his arm and steps back so he was free to leave.
Fratboy only takes a step and a half.
“Forgetting something?” Megumi barks, hard eyes freezing him in place before he could get close to re-entering the cafe.
Fratboy awkwardly maintains the eye contact, confusion clear in his features. Megumi jerks his head towards (y/n), who’s silence evidently hadn’t made her invisible to the two.
“Oh, s-sorry- I’m sorry”
It’s a weak ass apology, but Fratboy assumes it’s acceptable enough because when he rushes himself back into the cafe Megumi doesn’t stop him again. He gets a few odd stares as he gets in line for a coffee with apprehensive eyes and his hands anxiously buried in his pockets, but he keeps his head down the entire time.
“Wh- why did you do that?” (y/n’s) mumble is the only sound in the empty hallway. Her voice wants to stay stuck in her throat, but when it’s clear that Megumi isn’t going to give her an explanation- or say anything at all- she forces herself to ask.
His eyes fix on her, and an odd sensation settles over her. All the previous fear and anxiety melts away. She’d gone so rigid, her sense of fight or flight disappearing completely and keeping her stuck in place hoping she wasn’t going to be witness to a nasty fight. But she hadn’t expected that. Megumi’s intensity had been terrifying, even if it wasn’t directed at her, standing by and watching it had her throat closing up and her heart racing.
But he’d hardly even hurt the guy, just… humiliated him. Still, it was just as shocking to watch.
And now, being alone with him and trapped under his stare, what she feels isn’t fear. It’s… curiosity.
His eyes wander over her, reassuring himself that she was fine, maybe just a little shaken up by the whole thing. She was probably more embarrassed than anything. He could live with that, as long as she was safe. He just couldn’t have placed his trust in that frat prick.
“I don’t like assholes” Megumi answers, his voice as monotone as ever, as if he hadn’t just scared the shit out of that guy for her.
The lump in her throat grew hot as the realization struck her. He’d done all that for her?
“Well- well yeah, but…” Her brows furrow, her head shakes ever so slightly as she tries to put her thoughts to words. “But he didn’t do anything, just… was an asshole”
“You don’t know that” His reply was quick but his tone didn’t shift.
(y/n’s) eyes widen, the furrow in her brow smooths out, and she’s at a loss for words as she keeps staring at him.
You have no idea what he was capable of doing. Spiderman’s words repeat in her mind now as if he were standing right there saying them to her. It’s uncanny how similar his warning was to Megumi’s just now.
“He probably would’ve fucked off if I told him to” She makes a weak argument in an attempt to fill the overbearing silence.
Megumi doesn’t say anything, just beckons her to follow him as he takes off in quick strides down the hall. She should probably tell him to fuck off, but her curiosity gets the best of her, and she finds herself hurrying to catch up to him. He’s not walking all that fast, but his stride is significantly longer than hers, and she finds herself out of breath as they round the corner and he enters the first empty classroom they come across.
“Maybe next time you’ll learn the lesson and tell him to fuck off, then” Megumi grumbles, more to himself than to her, but she takes offense nonetheless.
“Well sorry I wasn’t expecting you to show up out of nowhere and threaten the guy” She mutters back.
Megumi scoffs before shrugging his backpack off his shoulder. (y/n) watches his every movement as he opens it up and digs around inside of it. She wants to ask what he was looking for, but her words are stuck in her throat again, and this time she can’t get them to come out.
“I didn’t threaten anybody, relax,” He tells her in a voice that could’ve been more comforting, but it was at least steady and sure. “It should make you feel better that he’s probably gone and made a fool of himself, now” He adds.
“Oh, thank you for that” She replies sarcastically.
“You’re welcome” Megumi replies in complete seriousness.
She opens her mouth, gaping at him, probably about to lay into him for taking her clear mockery as sincerity, but before she can he finally produces what he’d been looking for.
A tee shirt.
She blinks in dumbfounded silence as she stares at the plain black material in his hand. His brows are raised in an impatient expression, but she doesn’t take the offer right away.
He sighs. He’ll just have to do all the work, huh?
“Would you rather go the rest of the day in that?” He asks, nodding to the obvious mess of her shirt.
“It- it’s not that bad” She argues, her stubbornness forever getting in her own way.
“It’s going to reek of coffee”
“I happen to like the- the coffee bean scent-”
“It won’t be anything like that”
“It’s not even that wet anymore”
“I can see your whole bra now”
That does the trick in shutting her up, her head snapping downward to reassess the damage done. The groan she lets out morphs into a whine before she looks up at the balled up shirt in his hand. He vaguely stretches it towards her, and with a huff she snatches it right out of his hands.
As soon as he turns his back to her, busying himself with closing up his backpack, she’s peeling the ruined shirt over her head and quickly shrugging into the fresh tee shirt.
Besides the ridiculous proportion, she’s quick to notice the scent that clings to it. She dips her head once it’s covered her, trying to place a name to the smell of fresh laundry. Pine? Is this what pine smelled like? A part of her hated how good it smelled, how addicting it was to keep taking small sniffs.
“I’m… dressed” She says quietly when she’s gotten enough sniffs in and realizes that Megumi’s still just standing there.
When he turns, his eyes wander over figure not so subtly, but his expression is unchanging. Even if his brain is going haywire seeing her in his clothes. It’s just a tee shirt, but he takes a mental picture.
He realizes she must not wear black very often. It’s striking on her. It must be why his mouth has gone dry and he has to force himself to look her in the eye.
“Good?” He asks, already turning to leave the classroom.
She can’t believe he’s going to leave just like that. It felt like nothing had been resolved here- and if anything, she only had more questions. She doesn’t know what to say to make him stay, she’s not even sure he would stay if she asked him to. He didn’t exactly seem to have any interest in being around her… ever… but then why had he put himself through all this trouble? Her muddled mind was a mystery, but the puzzled look on her face gave Megumi enough of an inclination to linger for just a minute longer.
“What?” He sighs, but her confusion is still plastered on her face.
“I… I don’t know…” Her voice is barely a mumble. It doesn’t match the way her face tilts and shifts into something different. She takes a step closer to him, a bold and large one, putting herself far closer to him than she ever would’ve imagined doing before. She was supposed to keep a certain distance, Fushiguro Megumi had a reputation after all… but something was different.
This wasn’t the Fushiguro Megumi that she knew and despised. In fact, this was a completely new person. He was… familiar.
Megumi doesn’t step back when she draws in closer, but his neck leans backwards with apprehension, chin tilting lower to keep his eyes on her every movement. It’s not like she’s able to do anything, there’s no mask to be ripped off, no secret identity to be figured out just from her stare alone, and yet something makes a pit grow in his stomach when she gets too close for comfort.
He’s never been this close to her. Not without the wall of protection that was the Spiderman mask.
There’s nothing stopping him from walking away. There was no harm in leaving her stranded in a classroom. But something keeps him there anyways. Something keeps him waiting for her to explain herself.
Her eyes drop his gaze, but they don’t fall far. They land just a few inches lower, he can feel the prick of the daggers they stare against his lips. Subconsciously he licks over them to soothe the ache of their sudden dryness. Her look wanders just a little bit, but never too far. Mapping out his chin and jawline, quickly down his neck and then back up again to his lips.
“What the hell are you doing?” He finally finds his voice when she leans in a little closer. Not quite close enough to kiss him, but close enough that she could lean in if she wanted to.
(y/n) snaps out of it instantly, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushing when she looks at him properly again and realizes what she’d been doing.
Fushiguro Megumi? Spiderman? God, what was she thinking?
“N-nothing” She stammers out, and before he could call her out and further her embarrassment, she brushes past him to make a quick exit out of the room.
Megumi’s left alone, his own cheeks flaring up with heat, but he can’t pinpoint what exactly causes the blushing, and he doesn’t really want to stand around to figure out why.
___
Megumi doesn’t show up to the last few classes of the day. (y/n) notices.
Her fingers pinch at the hem of the tee shirt he’d given her, rolling the soft cotton over the pads of her fingers in contemplation. Her focus on uncovering Spiderman’s identity during class has dwindled, but she’s not paying any attention to her studies, either.
For the last few hours of her day, she replays the events of the day in her mind on fast forward and rewind, over and over, trying to find something she felt she missed.
When had Megumi followed her out of the cafe? Had he seen what happened? Why was he so angry? Why was he so kind to her? Why was he so…
It’s on the tip of her tongue, the timing of it all, the peculiarity of it all. She knew she just had to be missing something.
Her trip home is quicker than usual, her steps as fast paced as her racing mind. What was it? What was it that she wasn’t seeing?
It was so close she could feel it looming right over shoulders.
___
Never before had she sought out Fushiguro Megumi. But (y/n) couldn’t get the feeling to go away no matter how hard she tried, and she feared the only way out was through.
She didn’t want to confirm her assumptions without any proper evidence to base it all on, and she had a feeling that he was a pretty good liar, so she’d have to get creative with catching him. The best way to start, she figures, is by getting him alone.
It takes longer than she hopes. Megumi’s not an easy person to approach and he appears to like it that way. She stares him down when he comes in late to their first class, and his eyes catch hers for a moment longer than usual, but without a change in his expression it’s hard for her to get a good read on him. He takes his seat in the back of the class and she can’t get him to look at her again, no matter how many times she turns her gaze over her shoulder to steal another look at him.
After a few more classes with the same outcome, she supposes she’ll just have to wait until they break for lunch. He’s always sitting alone there, so she has her hopes up that it will be easier to sit down and prove it then.
But of course today is the day he’s not seated at his usual corner table all to himself. She waltzes into the cafe with nothing but confidence, and it’s ripped away from her when she sees that gloomy table empty. She lingers for a few minutes, hoping to catch him walking in later than the rest, but he never comes.
With her confidence boiled down to irritation, she storms out of the cafe on a mission to have this ended once and for all. She couldn’t possibly wait any longer, so one way or another, she was going to find and corner him.
The courtyard is empty at this time of day. The weather was cloudy and with the high chance of rain in the next hour, no one wanted to spend their free time eating lunch or studying out there.
Ever the outlier, that’s where she happened to find Fushiguro Megumi.
She’s not sure if she should grin or grimace when she approaches the tree he’s sitting under. He’s wearing his usual oversized headphones, and he’s got both his textbook and notebook opened. He was the perfect image of don’t bother me. (y/n) feels adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream as she rushes over to him.
It’s sort of strange. Just a few days ago she would duck her head and keep walking if she happened to cross his path. But it was like all of his intimidating qualities had just… disappeared. Despite the vibe he was trying to put off, he didn’t seem as unapproachable anymore. He didn’t seem as scary, although when she thinks about it long enough, (y/n) figures she’s probably the only person on this campus that interacted with him. Even if it was to antagonize him, she’d never seen anyone else speak to him.
A few days ago, he was Fushiguro Megumi, the boy with the bad reputation and even worse attitude. He was her academic rival, a thorn in her side that reminded her of faults just by existing. Today, she thinks he might just be the boy she’s been falling head over heels for. The one with careful words spoken by gentle lips. The first person in a long time that actually made her feel seen, and a feeling of being understood could work wonders on a stubborn heart.
“Hey!” She hollers, and Megumi jolts as he looks up to find her walking up to him. His expression scrunches up as he pulls his headphones down around his neck, and lowers his dual books.
“What do you want?” He asks, but the words aren’t nearly as harsh as he wants them to be.
She stops just before him, and invites herself to sit down beside his outstretched legs. He wants to tell her that he’s busy, that he’s studying out here alone because he wants peace and quiet, but he’s silent as she drops her backpack in front of her and opens it up.
“Thought you’d want this back” She says, pulling out a familiar black tee shirt. She hands it to him folded in a neat square. He almost laughs, knowing that when he’d offered it to her it had been a crumpled up ball.
“Right” He says, but before he takes it, she pulls it back towards herself, unfolding it. Megumi watches with furrowed brows. Was she not giving it back?
“I’ve just had this weird feeling lately,” She explains as she opens the shirt up completely. Megumi’s confused expression flickers between her and the shirt. “So I wanted to see something”
She starts bunching up the black material then, which Megumi watches with growing bewilderment. Why even fold it? What was this?
“Okay…?” His voice trails off when she looks up at him again, and the next thing he knows she’s leaning in close, holding his tee shirt up to his face. “What the- (y/n), what the hell are you doing?”
She ignores his questioning and the way he tries to swat her hands from getting any closer, but it doesn’t stop her from doing exactly what she aimed to do. Holding the black material up to cover half his face, from the bridge of his nose up, all that was left to see was his mouth down.
She couldn’t deny that it wasn’t a familiar sight, but it was hard to prove her theory on that alone, and she sighs.
“(y/n), this is annoying. And weird,” Megumi starts, his hands wrapping around her wrists in a careful hold, but enough to start to pull her and the tee shirt she was trying to blindfold him with away. “Can I have the shirt back or not- mmph!”
Just as he thinks he’s put a stop to her weird antics, she takes him by complete surprise when she darts forward and presses her lips against his. Megumi’s eyes go wide, although he’s still half hidden behind the shirt, he can’t help but keep them open as her soft lips move over his with familiar gentle passion. His confusion melts away the longer she holds the kiss, and by the time he thinks he should put a stop to it, it’s already too late. He’s connected the dots and so has she.
He sighs against her mouth, his fingers twitching around her wrists, unsure as to whether or not he should let her go or pull her in closer. (y/n) breaks away from the kiss just as she releases his shirt. They both let it drop to his lap, and she finally gets to see the whole picture.
His features have fallen to soft surprise as he gazes back at her, waiting for whatever was about to come. He doesn’t know if he should brace himself for something good or something bad, but he does his best to put his walls up anyways.
Her own eyes are wide with recognition, flickering between his own troubled eyes and the lips she’d just spontaneously kissed. Her tongue darts over her bottom lip thoughtfully, and for a second, Megumi thinks she’s going to give it a second try just to be sure. She doesn’t have to say anything right away for him to know exactly what she was thinking. She knew those lips. She knew that kiss. He’d gotten his cover blown over a kiss, of all things.
What he doesn’t expect is for (y/n) to let out a breathless laugh of delight, once the gears in her mind start to turn again. Her eyes are glimmering with an excitement she couldn’t contain.
“I told you I’d figure it out!” She keeps her voice hushed, which he can tell takes a great deal of effort.
“You always go around kissing random people?” He mumbles, thinking maybe he can play it off, maybe there was still a chance of gaslighting her into thinking he wasn’t the masked webslinger that had been slowly sparking up a romance with her.
There’s not even a small chance, though. (y/n) pulls her hands out of his gentle hold just to reach for his face, curiously skimming over his jaw, and then down his shoulders. His attempts at reaching for her hands again to stop her from practically running them all over him are weak, and it’s easy for her to ignore his clear attempts at stopping her.
“Wow, I almost can’t believe it,” She begins to mumble to herself, her eyes moving at rapid speeds as she puts the picture together in her mind. The lips she’d memorized in the hopes of finding them again, only to find they were on Megumi’s face, she lets out a delirious string of giggles. “I mean, it makes sense now, but it also doesn’t- why did you keep coming to see me?”
Megumi opens his mouth, but he doesn’t get a single word out before she’s throwing more questions at him.
“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t figure it out? I’m top of the class you know, and you’re not exactly great at hiding things-”
“Second to the top,” Megumi reminds her with a slight roll of his eyes. “And it took you quite a while, you know”
“Yeah, well, the secrecy thing was fun for a bit,” She argues. “But you barely tried to hide it. Coming into class looking like you got hit by a bus? What were you thinking?”
“That you hated my guts and didn’t care if I did get hit by a bus?” He replies with a smartass smile. Now it’s her turn to roll her eyes.
Her hands fall still against his collarbones, fingertips barely tapping against the base of his throat with her excitement.
“It was you this whole time…” She murmurs, but she doesn’t sound as disappointed as Megumi expects. Her gentle eyes feel piercing as they stare at him thoughtfully, as if this was the first time she was really seeing him. In a way, it sort of was. “Were you ever going to tell me?” She asks quietly, and this time she does wait for him to say something.
Megumi sighs, regarding her soft expression with thoughtfulness. There was no coming back from this now. She figured him out and he barely even tried to cover it up. That was a hard thing to do once she’d kissed him, though. She must’ve figured out his weakness, and happily used it against him.. Typical brat.
“I thought about it,” He says honestly. “Just didn’t seem like a good idea,”
The corners of her lips barely turn into a frown, and Megumi can’t help himself from reaching out to her, cradling her jaw in as light of a touch as he could bear. It was different now, feeling her warm skin against his without hiding in a suit, behind a mask. He knows she must feel it, too.
Everything was completely different now. She must be upset with him, right? She must at least be discouraged in finding out it had been him all along. Not someone with a better track record, maybe someone more attractive, or at least nice to her. He wonders if she had her hopes up for a specific person.
“Are you upset?” He asks. He doesn’t want to know all the answers to his questions, but he asks before he could shove down the curiosity and avoid it forever.
“Upset?” She repeats, brows furrowing momentarily with her confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Y’know,” He mumbles, long lashes flickering as his eyes fall to her lips for a moment. He looks at her again before continuing. “That it’s me. That it’s been me”
“Oh,” She hums, thinking for a second. “Well… did you mean it all?”
“Mean it all?” He repeats her now. “You mean while I was Spiderman?”
(y/n) nods in a small motion.
“Yeah… did you mean all the stuff you said… and did?” She adds the last part in an even quieter whisper than the rest, but the look in her eyes is so full of anticipation it speaks volumes over her voice.
“Yeah, of course,” Megumi answers without a shred of hesitation. “Of course I did,” He says it again, leaning forward with emphasis, his eyes never leaving hers. “(y/n), I didn’t want you finding out because I didn’t… I didn’t know that I would…” He trails off, his nerves starting to crawl up his throat for having to admit so many truths in one sitting. This one seemed to be harder than the rest. “I didn’t know I’d like you so much”
She laughs, breathless and sweet, humored by such an honest confession. It finally makes a real smile creep over his lips, relieved to see that her reaction was anything but negative. His heart skips a beat, and his thumb trembles as he reaches to stroke it over her cheekbone. He can’t help but want to pull her in closer, hold her properly, maybe even kiss her again. It should scare him, that she knew the truth now, that he was vulnerable to her now, but right now all he feels is a weight lifted off his chest, and the lingering taste of her chapstick on his lips.
“I definitely didn’t plan on liking you so much either,” She admits softly, her cheeks burning with color. Megumi can feel the heat in her skin when he presses the pad of his thumb further against her cheek. “Are you mad about it?”
“Mad?” He laughs, his smile becoming a full blown grin now as he leans in closer to her. Her fingers curl into the material of his shirt as he draws her in closer, too. Anticipation has her eyes flickering between his lips and the deep blue eyes that haven’t left hers since she’d kissed him. “Mad about what? Getting to know you? The real you? And falling for you?”
Her eyes grow wide as she stares back at him. For a guy that hid behind a mask for weeks, he sure got comfortable putting his cards on the table fast.
“No, I’m not mad about it,” He answers her properly, closing enough distance in between them that his nose prodded against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut before she could stop herself, her chin tilting forward to meet him the rest of the way. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to be with you, like this, for real, since you brought me that dumb bag of vegetables”
“It wasn’t dumb, there wasn’t ice” She argued. Her lips had just been brushing over his in the ghost of a kiss before she jerked away to argue some more. Ever so stubborn, he thinks with nothing but fondness for her.
Megumi doesn’t let her go far, pulling her right back in until her lips landed on his, and all further arguments died on her tongue. Her hands relaxed their hold on his shirt as her lips moved against his with muscle memory. Soft and so pliable, she melted right against him, leaning closer and closer until they were chest to chest, and Megumi moved his free arm to wrap around the dip in her back, keeping her tucked as close to him as he could without disconnecting their lips.
She finally gets to card her hands through his hair, scraping her nails over the nape of his neck before pushing the longer strands between her fingers. It becomes impossibly messier than usual, but Megumi only hums in delight as she messes it all up. He must’ve always wanted more, too.
Her fingers tangle in his hair and she doesn’t let up even when they part to catch their breath. Megumi stays close, his forehead resting against hers as he pants over her lips, leaving her still wanting more.
“You know I still have a million questions, right?” She murmurs, and Megumi can’t help but place the softest of kisses against her lips as she speaks, even if he was still breathless.
“I don’t feel like sitting and talking right now” He mumbles, chasing her lips for another kiss. She giggles, kissing him back but not nearly as long as he would’ve liked. Pulling away all too soon, she stares at him with wide eyes.
“I mean, how do the webs work?”
“(y/n), we have class in ten minutes, that’s not nearly enough time to get into it all,” He sighs, his hands smoothing over her hips and trying to draw her closer again. “Can’t we just enjoy this a little longer, and talk about all of that later?”
Huffing, (y/n) leans back in, and it makes Megumi smile if only for a moment. She stops short just before her lips could touch his.
“So… did Spiderman put that guy in a hospital last year?”
Megumi groans, dropping his head back against the trunk of the tree. She wasn’t going to let this go, and that reputation was going to follow him forever, it seemed.
“Alright. C’mon, we’re headed to class,” He prompted her to grab her things and stand with him, but she kept her hands in his hair too secure for him to want to stand up. “(y/n), I promise I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, later-”
“Let’s just skip class” She suggests, all too eagerly for a girl that bragged about being at the top of their class.
“Yeah, right,” Megumi scoffs, but when her expression doesn’t waver, his face falls and he stares at her bewildered. “You’re not serious…?”
“Why not?” She replies. “We can afford to miss a couple classes,” It’s not a bad argument, Megumi’s just shocked to hear her say it at all. “And.. I want to be the first one to get an exclusive interview with Spiderman” She giggles, and Megumi huffs, giving her a bored look.
“I’d rather go to class”
“And we can make out”
“... I guess some catching up isn’t a bad idea”
It takes them some time to gather their things and get going, only because (y/n) insisted on keeping her hands on him in one way or another, but even if Megumi pretended to be annoyed it wasn’t a believable performance. He kept her close with his arm wrapped firm around her as they made their way off campus quickly, hoping to beat the rain.
“You know, I’m thinking of calling you the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman when I write about you,” (y/n) tells him on their walk to her apartment. “Has a nice ring to it”
Megumi laughs humorlessly.
“Not sure it paints a very accurate picture,” He tells her, brows raised as he watches her pout up at him. “But you’re kinda gonna be my publicist, so I guess I’ll take what I can get”
“Hey! I thought you said you were falling for me” (y/n) sasses back. Megumi bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too hard. He tosses his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as they walk.
“That was off the record” He mumbles.
She beams up at him, he pulls her a little closer into his side, keeping an eye on her only from his peripheral vision. He couldn’t be getting too sappy with the way he looked at her now, he’d grown too used to having a mask to hide the dreamy look in his eye. Now though, it was completely on display for her to see.
(y/n) quite liked the view that she got now that he was mask-free. She’d always had her suspicions that Spiderman was handsome, and quite the victory it was to be proven right in that department. The stubborn, monotone, boy with a reputation part was just… an added bonus, she supposed.
She also supposed that she’d come with her own reputation now, too. With Megumi never far behind he took on a role akin to guard dog. She couldn’t deny she grew to like the feeling, melting at the protective way he kept close whether he had the mask on or not.
He had a certain responsibility to uphold when it came to keeping Tokyo safe, but he had a responsibility to those he loved, too.
___
xoxo ~ jordie
#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro megumi imagine#megumi imagine#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk imagine#jujutsu kaisen imagine
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a cherished headcanon I keep coming back to is that Eddie is very much invested in the school basketball team right up until the graduating class of ‘85 leaves. By an incredible series of mental gymnastics, he tries to convince himself that this has nothing to do with Steve Harrington’s presence on the team.
(And maybe Eddie avoiding the championship game of ‘86 in the near future will have more to do with Jason Carver being on the team, but that’s a sadder story for another time.)
The thing Eddie can easily admit he loves about the bigger games is the fleeting anonymity: while he’s got notoriety in Hawkins High, as soon as there’s a rival school involved he can blend into the crowd for a couple hours, lost in the roar of support.
It’s nearing the end of just such a tournament game when the ball accidentally goes flying into the crowd. Eddie’s reflexes kick in and he manages to catch it before it can take out the back row of the marching band.
The clock’s been stopped for a timeout—a kid on the rival team is injured—so more eyes are drawn to Eddie than normal as they find where the ball ended up. He feels acutely like a spotlight’s on him—holds the ball to his chest almost like he’s a part of the game himself.
A whistle cuts across the court. Steve Harrington.
He’s looking right at Eddie, raising his hands for the ball.
He has more than enough time to say something, some jeer that would well and truly break the spell of anonymity. But Eddie knows underneath the knee jerk worry that it’s not Steve’s style; it’s more the kind of thing Billy Hargrove and his ilk would do, and he’d thankfully been benched at halftime.
Eddie inhales then throws the bell, praying that he doesn’t end up smacking Steve in the face.
He doesn’t, thank God; Steve catches the ball smoothly, manages a thumbs up in thanks before the spotlight shifts back onto the game.
Eddie quietly sighs in relief, loses himself in cheering again.
They don’t win, but it’s still a good game. It’s like Eddie’s reasoning for campaigns: not everything needs to be an all-out victory for it to be entertaining.
The parking lot is a nightmare so he contents himself with waiting it out by his van while the worst of the crowds clear. It’s only when he hears a car door opening and closing nearby that he realises Steve is parked right next to him. Of course, of course he—
“Good catch back there, Munson,” Steve says, tossing his gym bag into his car. He notices something on one of the seats—Eddie can’t tell what it is, but he hears Steve mutter under his breath in benign exasperation, something about, “Dickheads, I keep telling them not to…”
“Yeah, thanks. All my years of training finally paid off.”
Steve makes a face at the build up of cars, chatting parents leaning out of their windows. “You could’ve been on the sub-team.”
“Kinda resent that you don’t think I’m star player material, Harrington.”
There’s the beginnings of a grin on Steve’s face. He has no right looking that smug for someone who’s just lost a game, Eddie thinks.
“Dude, I can hear you. You’re loud.”
Eddie wills his face not to flush. “You’ve got no proof.”
“Nah, just firsthand experience.”
“What, do you have ears like a bat?”
“Nope. Don’t need that to pick you out.” Steve chuckles to himself as he gets in the car, sits side-on to face Eddie as he speaks. “You’re worse than Tammy Thompson’s singing.”
“Uncalled for,” Eddie says, firmly locking away the part of his brain that’s screaming in embarrassment, because if he’s unable to fire off a comeback, he’ll actually never recover; he might as well go and tell Higgins that next year is already a wash, because he has to go and live in the woods—
“Hey, c’mon Munson, I didn’t say it was bad.”
“You implied it,” Eddie says, totally overselling the entire thing, like he’s been greviously wounded.
It works; Steve laughs, shakes his head.
“I didn’t,” he insists as he reverses out of his space. “I just meant it’s… distinctive.”
“Wow. Thank you.”
“That’s your whole shtick, man, don’t act like that wasn’t a compliment.”
“Sure. Eddie ‘Distinctive’ Munson, that’s me.”
And post-game sentiment must be in the air, because as Steve leaves the parking lot, he calls out the car window, bright and teasing, “Hey, maybe I’ll miss the cheering!”
But Eddie can’t be sure. Unlike Steve, he might be mishearing things.
#what if we noticed each other in high school but pretended not to and nothing mattered but also everything kinda did ❤️#pre steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie
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Star Shoes
"Things had been going so well for him lately. He should have expected the other shoe to drop. Or the metal pipe in this case."
In which Danny and his totally normal boyfriend who is definitely not Red Hood are abducted by cultists. Danny is super concussed, but he's got the spirit.
@deadonmayn Day 2: Jason Has Magic | Ritual | Danny and Jason are abducted by the same cult | "You were never monstrous to me."
AO3 Link
One day! Danny had asked for just one day! One day free from ghosts and vigilante stuff! A single day off! Was that too much to ask?
In retrospect, he should have known something bad would happen. Things had been going too well for him lately.
Six months ago he began his degree in astrophysics at Gotham University. Since moving to Gotham, Danny and his apartment had yet to be caught in any sort of rogue attack or crime. It was certainly odd considering he was living in the crime capital of the country, but Danny decided he would take it.
Most of his classes were able to be taken online, which was much more accommodating for Danny’s schedule. Sometimes a baby ancient of space just had to stretch themselves out amongst the stars and let their form slip. Frostbite said it was important for his development. He even offered to write Danny a doctor's note, but something told him it wouldn’t go over well with the school.
Danny Fenton requires up to five days of star exposure per month or else he breaks out in fins and eyes that may cause you feelings of cosmic terror. Please excuse him from lecture.
Yeah. That would work.
He didn’t need a note if the lectures were online anyway.
The online lectures were also easier for him on bad tremor days. Sometimes his legs would ache and shake and randomly lock too much for him to walk. It was so much easier to float on those days and just… let loose. His human visage had begun to feel too small and restricting. He could put up with it normally but it itched. It was harder to stay restrained when he also had to deal with the tremors. Luckily for him, the bad days had been decreasing lately.
By far the best part of the past six months was Danny’s new boyfriend. Jason was great! Better than great! Jason was amazing! They had only been dating for a month but Danny swore if anything happened to Jason he would kill everyone in Gotham and then himself (again). He had a sharp way with words that never failed to make Danny laugh, and though he may seem rude and grumpy on the outside, he was secretly a big sweetheart.
Danny had once seen him cry because of a feral (possibly radioactive) Gotham rat that was “just too small”.
There’s really no repairing your facade after that.
Truly, Jason was everything Danny could ask for in a boyfriend. Danny had worried that the questionable functionality of his legs would be a turn-off, but he had been pleasantly surprised. Jason never pushed him past his limits, in fact, he fought to keep Danny from doing so. On the bad days, Jason would make him soup and drape heating pads over his limbs. He would knead his knuckles into Danny’s muscles and press kisses to his trembling fingers. It didn’t make the bad days stop, but they became more bearable.
Danny was so lucky.
So really, he should have expected the other shoe to drop.
Or the metal pipe in this case.
Groaning, Danny struggled to open his eyes. His head hurt like he had been doing shots for twelve straight hours and his mouth tasted like iron. He must have bitten his tongue. Or lost a tooth. They grew back so fast that it was honestly hard to tell.
“D…n..”
Someone was talking.
“Da…n…”
Someone needed to shut up. Danny hated that name.
“D…ny!”
Ugh.
Vision swimming, Danny peeled open his eyelids. This… he was in a pawnshop? Why was he in a pawnshop?
“Danny!”
Oh.
Jason is here.
Hi Jason!
“Hey, baby,” Jason huffed in amusement.
Did he say that out loud? Fuck. He probably has a concussion.
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t with all the blood on your head.”
Blood? Danny tries to feel his face for it but instead finds his hands bound behind his back. He struggles to free them, not accomplishing much besides wiggling around on the carpet like a sad worm. He pauses once for breath and then resumes his wiggling in earnest.
Now hypothetically, Danny could just phase out of the restraints. One issue…
Jason was completely in the dark about the whole Phantom thing. They had only been dating for a month and like- how could Danny even bring that up?
Hey, just so you know I’ve died before and I’m technically still dead depending on how you think of it? Apparently I’m also a baby god which is news to me too so if that’s distressing for you imagine how I feel! And while we’re at it, I should let you know that your entire concept of the afterlife is probably wrong. Enjoy that crisis!
Okay, so Danny wouldn’t use those words exactly but that’s the gist of it. It’s some world-changing information and people have been dumped for less. Danny doesn’t want to scare Jason off!
And even if he was fine after that conversation, what about Danny’s other form? The one that Frostbite keeps calling his true form? It was… a lot, and he hadn’t been joking about the cosmic terror. If he were being honest, Danny barely felt human some days.
Danny allows his head to fall back to the floor with a thunk.
“Careful, darlin’,” Jason sounded concerned from where he was bound adjacent to him, “I think it's stopped bleeding. Don’t want you to open it again.”
“It’s fine. Worse than it looks.”
“...Do you mean better than it looks?”
“Yeah, that. Head wounds bleed a lot.”
It really was better than it looked. With Danny’s healing, it was probably entirely gone by now.
Jason looks like he is about to say something else when the backdoor opens.
In comes the most stereotypical cultists Danny has ever seen in his life. Actually, they were stereotypical but worse. The robes they wore looked plasticy and the black was off with a gross yellow undertone. Overall it was giving purchased off some shitty cheap website vibes. Like Wish.
They circle around Danny and Jason so perfectly synchronized that Danny knows they had to have practiced this. He imagines them running through their steps as if they were practicing for a dance recital. Did they have a choreographer?
“Why would we have a choreographer?”
Oh, Danny is speaking out loud again. Did he say the stuff about the robes?
“What’s wrong with our robes?!”
“I love you, baby, but I need you to shut the fuck up.”
Understandable. Have a nice day.
Danny passes out.
When he wakes up again they are in a different room. Jason is struggling against a cloak’s hold and cursing up a storm in true Jason fashion. The cultists look a little worse for wear. The one holding his boyfriend looks like he might have gotten into a fight with a weedwhacker.
“Touch one hair on his head and I’ll fucking kill you!” Jason snarls.
He’s largely ignored by the cultists who continue with their preparations.
Danny finally takes stock of where he’s at. He’s still on the floor, but the carpet feels slightly different. The room is bare compared to the one they were in before. A desk and office chair are pushed against the wall to make room for the summoning circle. A summoning circle that Danny was currently resting in. As an offering. Great.
Flashing lights distract him from their predicament.
The guy closest to Danny was wearing light-up sneakers. Danny didn’t even know they made those for adults. Neat!
“Hey man, where did you get your shoes?”
He can’t see the cultist’s face but he assumes he’s raised an eyebrow with the way the hood crooks to the side.
Danny genuinely wants to know! The lights look like little stars blinking in the darkness. He has to have them.
Danny is about to ask again but is cut off by a loud curse.
Jason?
Jason!
Danny has to save Jason!
He growls, eyes flashing for the briefest of moments before he can tone them down. Jason can’t know about Phantom. He’ll have to figure something else out. Actually, he might not need to figure anything out! Depending on who this circle summons this could be a nonissue.
Danny cranes his head to look at the circle.
Groaning, he allows his head to fall back against the floor for the third time that night.
This isn’t just any summoning circle. This is his summoning circle.
He lifts his head again to double check and yup, these idiots are using him as an offering for himself. Great job. Gold star.
This is both good and bad. Good because they are in no immediate danger outside of the world’s worst Grim Reaper cosplayers. Bad because Eldritch horror.
If these yahoos actually go through with the ritual and summon Danny, he’ll be forced into his ancient form in front of Jason. Probably. Danny wasn’t entirely sure that the ritual would work in the first place what with him already being there.
Danny spends too long thinking about the summoning logistics and not enough time actually stopping it. Before he can come up with a plan the cultists are chanting. He can feel the tug in his chest getting stronger and fins pushing against his skin. This was happening whether Danny wanted it to or not.
“Jason, close your eyes!”
“Danny!” Jason was still squirming in Weedwhacker’s hold and valiantly trying to get to Danny. His teeth snapped dangerously close to the cloak’s fingers. Ancients, Danny loved his boyfriend.
“Trust me, Jason!” Danny yelled, choking down the mist trying to escape from between his shark-like teeth, “Close your eyes!”
With one last glance to verify that his boyfriend’s eyes are squeezed shut, Danny lets go.
His very being unravels.
It feels good to be this big, no longer vacuum-sealed into a too-small bag. The fins along his tail flick, stretching now that they are no longer confined. The luminescent lights travel up and down them as if doing a calibration run. His body parts disappear into fine vapor whenever they move before reforming in their new positions. The very pulse of the universe thrums in his chest. He can feel so much. He can see so much. He lets out a cool, dead, misty breath.
His eyes open.
The screaming starts.
Danny grins, displaying his sharp teeth proudly. He flies through the air, knocking person after person to the ground. They fall like blades of wheat to a scythe, small and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Just a speck in the eye of a giant.
Jason’s eyes are still closed. Good.
Danny plucks him from Weedwhacker, setting him gently to the side. He can’t stop himself from getting into Weewhacker's face and screeching. He watches with satisfaction as he crumples to the ground seizing.
The screaming eventually stops, the cultists catatonic on the carpet. Jason’s eyes are tightly shut. He’s breathing heavily, unmoving from where Danny had placed him.
Softly, ever so softly, Danny covers Jason’s eyes with his hands, careful not to prick him with his claws. He winds himself up tight, shoving himself back into his body like clothing in an overpacked suitcase. Gradually his claws shrink back into normal human digits.
His fingers shake with familiar tremors, still covering his boyfriend's eyes. Danny breathes shakily as Jason’s hands slide over his own.
“Danny?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I open my eyes now?”
He swallows hard, mentally preparing himself. Jason’s going to leave. Jason heard the screaming and felt his claws. He’ll see the cultists and know what he’s done. Jason knows what Danny truly is and he is going to leave.
“...Yeah,” it already sounds heartbroken as it leaves his lips.
Jason’s hands take Danny’s with care, removing them from over his eyes. He blinks, surveying the room and Danny knows this is it. He’s waiting for the look of horror or sneer of disgust he has become so achingly familiar with.
Jason’s eyes meet his own.
“Hey baby,” He presses kisses to Danny’s quivering fingertips with careful affection. Just like on the bad days…
Danny sniffles, turning away with watery eyes and grit teeth. He wasn’t expecting this last scrap of kindness from Jason.
“No no no,” Jason squeezes his hands with gentle pressure. Not enough to hurt, never enough to hurt. “Look at me, Danny. Please?”
Danny’s head pounds, his vision is blurry, his skin itches, and his heart hurts. He just wants this night to be over. But he could never deny Jason.
Jason smiles at him, hands coming to rest on his cheeks. He wipes a stray tear away with his thumb, smudging some dried blood away with it.
“There you are, handsome.”
More tears race down Danny’s face. His voice cracks, “I don’t… I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand, baby?” Jason asks, checking his hair for a wound that’s probably already gone.
“You’re still here.”
Jason pauses his minstations, “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I-” Danny stops, addled brain thinking. Jason waits patiently for him to form the words, “I’m wrong. I’m not supposed to be like this,” Danny’s not sure how much sense he actually makes between the persistent concussion and rampant emotions, “I’m a monster.”
The look in Jason’s eyes turned steely, “You're not a monster, Danny.”
“But-”
“No buts. You're not a monster. You wanna know how I know?”
Danny remained silent, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Jason considers him for a minute then continues anyway.
“I’ve seen monsters before. Monsters do awful things with only themselves in mind. Monsters go out looking for someone to hurt just because they can.”
Danny turns to look away again. It doesn’t matter that the timeline is gone or if he’s trapped in a thermos, the very concept of Dan will always haunt Danny.
“Danny,” Jason redirects his attention, gently turning his face back to him. Danny’s not prepared for the pure unbridled devotion in his eyes.
“You are the most selfless person I’ve ever met. You go so far out of your way to help others even when it becomes an inconvenience to you. It doesn’t matter if they are a stranger or not. Sometimes I worry you're going to get yourself kidnapped.”
Like today goes unsaid. Jason looks like he’s on the verge of tears too.
“You were never monstrous to me, and you never will be. How could you possibly be a monster?”
Danny sniffles again, leaning into his boyfriend’s touch. Jason readily accepts him into his arms, rubbing soothing circles on his back.
“Sorry…” Danny finally mumbles into his… shirt? Whatever Jason is wearing feels hard against his cheek. Danny doesn’t really care. His head hurts too much to think about it, “I shoulda told you.”
Jason quietly laughs, “Technically you still haven’t told me anything.”
Danny nods solemnly, wiping the last of his tears away, “Complicated.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he scoops Danny effortlessly into a bridal carry.
Danny yelps as the movement jostles his head. Jason makes a sound of apology.
His boyfriend’s eyes scan the room again, “How about you explain it all to me when you're no longer concussed? Besides, I have some things I need to explain to you too.”
“Sounds good,” Danny slurs as Jason walks them to the door.
They are about to step over the threshold when Danny suddenly REMEMBERS.
“WAIT!”
Jason startles, looking around wildly, “What?! What is it?!”
“The shoes!”
“The shoes?”
“Yeah! The shoes! The star shoes!”
“...do you mean the light-up sneakers?”
Danny pouts at him but nods anyway, “The star shoes.”
“The star shoes, then,” Jason easily confirms, “What about them?”
“I need to take em.”
Jason grimaces, “...Why? I can just buy you your own pair.”
“No! It’s not the same!” Danny whined, “They summoned me using me as an offering. I didn’t actually get anything!”
“Okay, I’ll go get his shoes-”
“My shoes.”
Jason laughs, setting him down on the table just outside the door, “Wait here.”
Danny waits. His vision is still swimming in a blur of colors. Colors. He’s pretty sure he can taste colors now. The dull brown carpet is disgusting.
Jason remerges victoriously with star shoes in hand. Danny cheers, immediately making grabby hands. Jason passes them over with a look of mild disgust.
“You ready to go now?”
Danny bats his eyelashes, throwing his arms (and shoes!) over Jason’s shoulders and around his neck. He presses in to rub his nose against his boyfriend’s, “Take me home?”
“Of course.”
Danny had the best boyfriend.
#Jason gets Danny a shirt that says “I was abducted by cultists to be used as a bargaining chip and all that I got were these stupid shoes”#My kitten Finley helped beta this fic everyone say “Thank you Finley”#deadonmayn24#dom24d2#dead on main#dpxdc#my writing#Star Shoes
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post-war, canonverse, semi-public sex, fingering, fem!reader, some light degradation, dry humping, MDNI
w/c: ~ 1630
Everything has been so new lately.
Moving to Marley after the war had been an easy decision, but that didn’t mean the physical act of settling into a new place wasn’t without its hurdles. Mostly, it was about adjusting—getting used to the advances in technology that wasn’t present on Paradis. Telephones, cars, radios, even electric stoves were commonplace things that Levi still marveled at.
And then, there was also you.
More specifically, the way you’d both found yourselves quite suddenly thrust into a life after war, a life without titans and the looming threat of death hanging over your heads like a dense fog.
As former comrades, it only made sense once the smoke cleared to navigate this new world together. And Levi was more than happy to experience all manner of firsts at your side.
It’s through this different layer of companionship that Levi learns so many new things about you. How you like your eggs in the morning, how tired you get after having too much pasta, the way the hair at the back of your head always sticks up the next day if you go to sleep with it still wet. He learns how you organize your books on your shelves (by size) and how when you’re having a bad day and tell him to leave you alone, you don’t actually mean it.
He’s always known how to make you laugh, but after eight months of living together under the same roof, he learns how to make you moan. It’s a sound he’d like to bottle forever, the sight of your body arched beneath him a vision too precious to look away for even a second. Even with only one good eye, he soaks it in like you’re a dream that’ll fade if he blinks.
He learns that he likes kissing, and you do too. So, when you lean across the center console of his brand new car at Marley’s drive-in movie theater one summer night, he doesn’t think much of it. At least, not until your hands start wandering and he finds himself pulled into the backseat.
You give him very little time to recover from the surprise of being pulled from his seat before your lips are on his again. The leather of the upholstery groans as you straddle his narrow waist and on instinct, Levi reaches out, eyes still closed as he guides you onto his lap.
His palm splays over the skirt of your dress, hiking it up a little in his haste. When he feels the fabric, he pulls away slightly.
He gently squeezes your thigh, watching the cloth bunch a little in his grasp. The sound of your breath hitching in your throat makes him look up. “What’s got you so worked up, hm?”
Above him, forming words feels borderline impossible. Not while his thumb is drawing circles on the inside of your thigh and he’s looking up at you through those delightfully full lashes. It strikes you that this facet of your relationship is still relatively new, so the warmth on your cheeks doesn’t feel out of place when you swallow around your meekness and say, “You.”
“Me?” Levi’s brows raise, but he thinks he gets it. The moment you’d walked out of your room in this little number, his mind had gone straight to the gutter.
Like he’s revisiting the memory, his hands begin to slowly trail every part of you his eyes drift over—thumbs tracing the tantalizing curve of your breasts, down the silky material over your waist before resting his palms on your hips. When he gives you another subtle squeeze, you roll against him, feeling the hardening outline of his cock through his trousers against your core.
“Can’t help it,” you breathe out slowly, like you're making every effort to remain composed, but the strain in your voice betrays the neediness beneath.
Your palms drift over the soft fabric of his shirt, moving over firm muscle. They’re not as defined as they once were, but you relish in his solid warmth all the same. Enamored by him, always.
He lets you explore unimpeded. You’ve always been handsy—checking him for signs of injury or illness when he inevitably pushed himself too far during expeditions. Now he’s grown used to the way that protective tendency has turned into an act of appreciation and fondness. It makes something light and airy form in his chest when you lean down again to kiss him.
“These windows aren’t tinted,” he says a moment later. The warning is half-hearted and murmured mostly against your lips, in conflict with the way his hands keep you anchored where you are.
His feeble hesitation makes you laugh.
You settle further into his lap, nearly chest to chest now. You can feel the way his breathing has grown labored against you. “No one’s looking at us, Levi.”
It is dark, at least. He has enough sense still to acknowledge that the large screen up front will be capturing most peoples’ attention, even though it’s currently in an intermission right now. There are only fifteen minutes between the double features tonight. A shame, he thinks. When it comes to you especially, he always likes to take his time.
You move your attention to the curve of his jaw, peppering hot, pillowy kisses down the expanse of his neck before suckling the sensitive flesh of his clavicle, and every thought not focused on the present stops.
He closes his eyes, caught between the feeling of your lips on his neck and your warm cunt gliding over his cockhead. Even through several layers of clothes, pleasure rushes through him with each rut of your hips. You’re so warm and pretty that it’s dizzying.
In retaliation, a thumb swipes over your clothed clit, and Levi smirks when your movements almost completely stop. Behind you, the large screen lights up and Levi watches in the soft blue light as you lean back slightly, mouth slightly agape in a silent gasp.
“Never took you for an exhibitionist,” he says, the reflection of the movie behind you mirrored in his unclouded iris.
Before you can say anything, he hooks two fingers around your panties and pulls them to the side, sliding the digits through the arousal that’s already beginning to soak into the cotton.
“I-I’m not,” you attempt to defend, but the protest comes out weak and shaky with his movements.
“Is that right?” Levi asks, his tone mildly condescending. “Well, the fact that you’re grinding on top of me right now says otherwise.”
The pressure of his fingers on your cunt makes it difficult to think. If you were in your right mind, you might be embarrassed about the way the windows have started to fog, but you can only be grateful for the extra coverage.
The air is thick and your body feels like it’s on fire. Every brush of Levi’s fingers on your skin sends you aflame. His injured hand anchors you in place, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the flesh of your hip while his other hand continues to pick you apart, making your knees quiver.
Your voice is a strained gasp against the shell of his ear. “Like you’re not hard already just from kissing.”
“I never said I wasn’t.”
The hand on your hip lowers, and for a moment you think he’s gesturing for you to get up, but the new position allows his other hand to slide down. Two fingers quickly bottom out inside your cunt.
Your features pinch with the effort it takes to keep yourself quiet.
“There you go,” Levi coos, smug as your fingers struggle for purchase on his shoulders. “Is that what you wanted?”
His cock, his fingers, his mouth. All three. You want to tell him that you’d gladly take anything he’d give you, but all you can do is pant uselessly into his neck and try to hold on.
“Couldn’t wait until we got home, hm?” Levi continues, his fingers pumping and curling in such a way to make you see stars in your vision. “Needy thing.”
You clench around him, spurred on by his words. “Levi.”
He keeps talking, undeterred. A glow appears in his eyes as you rock into his palm, meeting his movements. “Dirty girl, fucking my fingers like this in the open.”
Pleasure coils in your belly. You grasp helplessly against his sturdy neck, cheeks burning and nails dragging over the soft fuzz of his undercut as it continues to build and build. The pressure of his thumb on your clit pulls all of your muscles taut.
When your moans become wispy and delicate gasps of air, he knows you’re right on the edge.
“Let go, sweetheart,” Levi murmurs. “You can come.”
Your orgasm hits you like a train. With a single gasp of his name, you come undone. Levi holds you through it as you shudder and spasm, his free arm now wrapped around your waist.
When you pull back, your eyes are bleary and content. Every muscle in your body seems to relax against him.
Levi pulls his hand from between your legs. “Satisfied?”
“Mmm,” is all you can manage. The aftershocks still continue to wash over you, making you feel boneless and tired.
When they subside, you give him a quick peck and slide off of his lap, climbing back into the front passenger seat.
Levi follows with a grunt. When he settles back into the driver’s seat, he buckles his seatbelt and starts the car.
You turn, confused. “What are you doing? The movie isn’t over.”
Slowly, he eases out of the parking spot toward the exit. Just before he turns onto the road, he gives you an incredulous look.
“You think I can focus on anything else after that?” From the streetlight above, you can finally see the deep shade of pink tinting his neck and face. “I’m taking you home so I can really make you scream.”
#levi ackerman smut#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x fem!reader#post war levi#levi ackerman#aot fic#levi drabble#not sfw
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The Devil is Real (Part 2)
Part 1
Summary: You sense there's something not right about Los Iluminados and you're determined to get to the bottom of it.
Word Count: 3.5k
Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation, kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]
Your eyes slowly open to find the sun pouring into the window over by the head of the stairs. You let out a loud yawn as you sit up, stretching your arms over your head before swinging your feet over the side of the bed. Heading downstairs, you find Vince already up and making breakfast. You walk up and stand next to him.
“Anything I can help with?” you ask, leaning in to see what he’s making.
“Nah I’m good,” he replies, playfully shoving you away, “you must have been exhausted. You were already asleep when I got back to the house.”
“The jet lag finally caught up to me as soon as my head hit the pillow,” you explain as you sit at the table, “you spoke to Father Méndez I take it?”
“I did. Hopefully it helps. I don’t want you to feel unwelcome here. I know Leon is just doing his job but… you’re my sister. Making sure you’re comfortable here is my top priority.”
Vince finishes making breakfast, once again bringing two plates to the table before sitting across from me.
You speak up once more while you’re eating, “so, what’s on the agenda today?”
“I have to help out on the farm, that’s usually what I do most days. You’re more than welcome to join me, but if you don’t, I understand.”
You nod, thinking back to your time spent living with your grandparents. They had lived on a large farm and your grandfather made the two of you do almost all the upkeep. Your brother would take care of the livestock and farm maintenance while you would tend to the garden, it was brutal work for children. Regardless of the unpleasant memories, you weren’t about to sit back and let your brother do all the work.
“Sure, I’ll help out, just let me know what needs to be done.”
Within the hour, the two of you had made your way to the farm. It is a ways away from the village, requiring another short hike to get there. Once getting there, Vince is tasked with repairing some of the farm equipment while you helped feed and groom some of the livestock. You’re in the middle of wrangling up the pigs to feed them when out of the corner of your eye, you see someone approach your brother. You recognize the cargo pants and the tight fitting black athletic t-shirt immediately and that can only mean one thing:
It’s Leon.
You avert your eyes, bringing your focus back to pouring the feed into the trough, however, you steal quick glances at Leon and your brother as they speak to each other. Leon has short blonde hair and obviously takes very good care of himself; even you could see the way the sleeve of his t-shirt forms over his biceps.
“Hey Sis, come ‘ere!” Vince calls, beckoning you to join him with a motion of his hand.
You put down the bag of feed, silently cursing to yourself before walking over, standing close to your brother when you approach. Now that Leon isn’t wearing that black cloak he had on yesterday, you’re able to get a better look at him and, holy hell, were you not prepared. Leon is incredibly handsome, easily the most handsome man you have ever laid eyes on. You found yourself unconsciously squeezing your thighs together as your eyes rake over him; taking in the way the straps of his gun harness and various belts hug his thighs, how his pectoral muscles strain against that tight shirt. And, of course, those gorgeous blue eyes.
Oh no… you think to yourself, he’s hot…
“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable yesterday,” Leon begins as he holds out his gloved hand; you don’t hesitate to shake it, “I’m Leon Kennedy; I’m in charge of making sure the community is a safe place for everyone.”
His voice is as smooth as whiskey, causing your heart to race in your chest as you tell him your name, “it’s very nice to meet you Leon.”
Leon gives you a half smile which makes your heart swoon; this man is way too attractive for his own good. He must realize it because he gives you a playful wink which, thankfully, your brother missed.
“Likewise,” Leon continues, giving your hand one more squeeze before letting go and looking to your brother “I also came over because Manuel just came in with a haul of fish from the lake, he needs help unloading the boat.”
“Of course, I’ll be right over,” Vince replies, setting down his tools.
“Is it alright if I come along?” you ask, shoving your hands in your pockets as you shift on your feet.
“Yeah of course,” Vince replies, “the dock isn’t far from here; I’d love for you to come see the lake.”
Just as your brother walks away to go to the dock, Leon gives you a pat on the side of your shoulder, giving you another playful wink as he whispers, “I’ll see you around, little bird.”
Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch Leon walk away. The nickname he had given you goes straight to your core, causing you to clench your hands as your fingers tingle.
“Sis, are you coming or not?” Vince calls out to you some ways away from the archway leading out of the farm.
“Sorry Vince! I’m coming!” you shout as you jog over to your brother, joining him as you both make your way to the lake.
By the time you two get to the dock, several other men from the village are also there helping Manuel unload the haul from his fishing trip. Vince quickly joins them as you stand at the head of the dock. As your eyes scan over the vast lake, the sights, sounds and smells once again take you back to your childhood. To the times when you and your brother would go down to a small pond that was on your grandparents’ property to have some semblance of fun. The sound of a door opening behind you causes you to draw your attention away from the lake.
You watch two men come out of what you can only assume is Manuel’s house carrying what appears to be a very large sack. Your gaze tracks them as they walk across the property, stopping at a cave opening that’s blocked off by a large gate. They stop at the gate as one of them goes to unlock the gate. You quickly realize that the large sack is moving violently. Once they get the gate open, they carry the sack inside, shutting and locking it behind them before disappearing into the darkness of the cave. You swallow hard as you draw your attention back to the lake, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach.
Something is very wrong about this place and you feel whatever it is, it’s behind that gate.
“Will you be ok here at the house tonight?” Vince asks over dinner.
“Yeah, why?” you ask as you take a bite out of your meal.
“We have a community gathering tonight. It will likely go well into the night. I just want to make sure you’ll be ok here by yourself.”
You look up at Vince, raising an eyebrow, “I can’t come with you?”
Vince shakes his head, “not this time. This is for members of the Los Iluminados community only.”
This only serves to unsettle you even more, especially after seeing that large sack get brought into that cave earlier that day. Not wanting to upset your brother, however, you simply swallow hard and shrug it off.
“No problem, I’ll be fine, Vince.”
“Good, thank you Sis.”
Your brother leaves the house after cleaning up, leaving you alone in the house. You take that opportunity to go up to the bedroom, settling yourself onto the bed. As you lay there, your mind wanders back to Leon and you find yourself quickly becoming hot and bothered. Taking off your jeans so that you’re just in your shirt and underwear, your hand slips under the hem of your panties, your fingers gently rubbing your clit as you lay your head back against the pillow, closing your eyes. You picture Leon perfectly, imagining it is his fingers rubbing your clit, imagining his hot breath on your ear as he leans over you.
“That’s it, little bird. Doesn’t that feel good?”
A soft whimper escapes your lips as you hear the words your mind has conjured; who would have thought a silly nickname would get you so riled up. You pick up the pace of your fingers, your hips bucking up into your hand as you chase your release. You softly moan his name over and over as your pussy walls clench around nothing, secretly wishing he was buried inside you. You then move your fingers in a circular motion rapidly and within minutes you come undone, practically screaming Leon’s name as your body convulses. In the heat of the moment, your elbow crashes into the small bedside table, causing it to tip over, causing the contents of a small drawer to spill all over the floor.
The abrupt crash immediately snaps you out of your fantasy. You sit up in the bed and stand up, picking up the items that had fallen out of the bedside table. A crudely made leather bound book catches your attention; you sit down onto the side of the bed and open it. The text inside is handwritten and you quickly realize once you start reading it that it’s your brother’s journal. You know you shouldn’t be reading it, but a part of you is hoping that it reveals what exactly is going on in this community.
March? 2006
I’ve completely lost track of time since Josh and I were brought here. I found this notebook inside the building they brought us in, so I figured I’d use it to chronicle what’s been going on in case someone else finds it. It was Josh’s idea to go backpacking across Europe. I regret not telling my sister where I was going; she must be worried sick!
This group, called Los Iluminados, promised us a paradise on Earth. A place for us to disconnect from the world and detox and it doesn’t take a genius to know I definitely need that. They didn’t seem very bothered by the fact that Josh is my boyfriend despite being a religious group, so that was refreshing.
You stop reading for a moment, absorbing the information you just learned. Your brother is gay. It came as a complete shock to you, however upon looking back, it’s a wonder you hadn’t realized it sooner. It certainly explains why your grandfather was especially hard on Vince. Why didn’t he tell you? You can’t help but feel hurt by the fact your brother wasn’t comfortable enough telling you. You set aside these emotions for the time being and continue to read.
They injected both of us with something, said it would help us with the detox process. And then they brought us into the basement of one of the houses. It’s almost pitch black down here, the only indication of time passing is from the faint streaks of light coming down from the floorboards. It’s a miracle I can even see what I’m writing. I feel ok, but Josh on the other hand isn’t looking good at all. He’s broken out into a rash and he won’t stop sweating. He keeps saying everything hurts. What the fuck did they inject us with?
March… Maybe April? 2006
It’s been a few days since they first locked us into this basement. I keep coughing up blood and having weird dreams, but otherwise I don’t feel too bad. Josh on the other hand isn’t doing well at all, he’s been violently convulsing and hacking up way more blood than I have. I don’t think he’s going to make it.
April 2006
They came down into the basement and took Josh, he had gotten worse from when I had written earlier. They came back later and examined my eyes, saying my blood had accepted the gift, whatever that means. They led me out of the basement and gave me one of the houses. They say I’m part of the community now. I don’t know what happened to Josh.
There are no new entries in the journal after that. You’re completely overwhelmed with emotions, both from what you learned about your brother and the implications of what happened to his boyfriend Josh. All of this just further cemented the fact that you had to find out what lies beyond that gate you saw them bring that sack into.
After picking up the mess and tucking the journal safely back inside the bedside table, you go to bed where your mind enters the realm of dreams which have been invaded by thoughts of Leon.
The next morning, your brother informs you that the two of you will be going over to Father Méndez’s house to have dinner. The house itself is grandiose, we’re immediately greeted with the large dining room table already laid out with food and drinks. The dinner itself is largely uneventful, Father Méndez asks you a lot of questions about living in the United States and how you’re liking your stay with the community. As the dinner wears on, you realize that this is a golden opportunity to try to find some answers.
You abruptly stand up, “sorry I need to excuse myself for a moment. Where’s the bathroom, Father?”
Father Méndez motions to the archway over to the left, “through there, sweetheart.”
You smile at him and nod in acknowledgement, “thank you Father, if you excuse me…”
You walk through the archway, finding a set of stairs going up to the second floor of the house. You look over at the dinner table, waiting until Father Méndez is completely focused on your brother before silently ascending the stairs. At the top is another hallway. You carefully walk to the end of it, finding what you guess is the master bedroom, a large four poster bed immediately to your right, a dresser to the left and a small desk next to the window ahead of you.
You slowly walk up to the desk, which is covered in various papers that have words written in Spanish on them. You then open up one of the drawers and you suck in a breath at what you find. It’s an ornate key, embellished with the same weird cross symbol that you saw back at the church and, now that you think about it, the gate by the dock also had this same symbol. This key has to go to that gate, you’re sure of it. You softly close the drawer, tucking the key into your pocket.
“What are you doing in here?” you hear Father Méndez ask.
You jump as you turn around, placing your hand over your racing heart, “Father I’m so sorry! I got lost looking for the bathroom.”
He raises an eyebrow at you, but then smiles at you warmly, “that’s quite alright, I wasn’t clear in my direction. It’s downstairs, the door on the right just before the back door, follow me and I can show you.”
You allow Father Méndez to lead you to the bathroom, which is quite literally a hole in a raised part of the floor. The smell coming out of it almost knocks you out. Despite this, you spend a couple minutes in there to make it convincing before you return to the dinner table, all the while fiddling with the key in your pocket.
You and your brother finish up dinner with Father Méndez, getting back home just before it gets dark. You excuse yourself and go to bed early, claiming to be exhausted from socializing. You sit on the side of the bed, twirling the key you found in your fingers as you examine it as you listen for confirmation that your brother is asleep. It takes a couple hours, but you hear the telltale signs of your brother’s snoring. Getting up from the bed, you walk over to the window over by the stairs, carefully opening it and climbing out. It leads you outside on some crude scaffolding, you quickly find a ladder to climb down.
The waxing moon casts a gentle glow throughout the village, which you use to your advantage as you make your way to the dock area. You walk crouched, trying to use the environment to mask your movements, hoping to not draw anyone’s attention. You eventually make it to the gate, looking around before digging the key out of your pocket, putting it into the keyhole and turning. As you suspected, the key unlocks the gate with ease and you push on it gently, the gate letting out a soft squeak as it swings open. You shut the gate behind you, making your way inside the cave.
Once you get to the back of the cave, you come across another gate, pushing it open to find a furnished room filled with various root vegetables and supplies. Upon stepping in, you’re overwhelmed by the smell of decay, bringing your shirt up over your nose to mask the smell. It doesn’t take long for you to find the source. To your right, there is a person on their knees, held up by their wrists on a rope. You hesitantly approach, finding that it’s a young woman, her skin pitch black in decay and that weird cross symbol painted on her face with blood. You fight back the bile building up in your mouth.
“I fucking knew it,” you say to yourself, “this is a fucking cult.”
You take another look around, spotting a ladder leading upwards through the floor in the back. You hesitantly approach it and begin climbing up. As you ascend to the top, you are greeted by another horror; an altar with another young woman laid onto it, her blood completely covering it. You see her hands are tied behind her back. You walk around the altar to face her. She has that same symbol painted onto her face. Her skin still has color to it, suggesting that she hasn’t been dead for very long. You begin to suspect that this woman was in that sack that you saw carried into the cave.
“You shouldn’t be here,” you hear Father Méndez’s voice boom from behind you.
You spin around and face him, he’s standing straight with his hands neatly folded in front of him.
“What the hell kind of operation do you have here?!” you shout, balling your fists, “I knew something wasn’t right about this place. I’m taking my brother, we’re leaving and reporting you to the authorities!”
A low chuckle comes out of Father Méndez, “her blood did not accept the gift. You, however, may have better luck.”
Méndez brings one hand up, snapping his fingers. Suddenly, two men that had been standing behind you grab you by your arms, twisting them behind your back as you struggle as hard as you can. You watch as Father Méndez reaches into his coat pocket, producing a large hypodermic needle. As you struggle, Father Méndez begins to approach you. Your gaze shifts to the figure standing just behind him, seeing that Leon is standing there, watching, back to wearing that large black cloak, the hood mostly obscuring his face. All you can see is a menacing smirk that is on his lips.
“Sis calm down, it’s going to be ok!” you hear your brother, quickly realizing he is one of the men that is restraining you, “my blood accepted the gift, I’m certain yours will, too.”
“Vince!” you cry out, turning to him, “do you hear yourself? This is insane!”
Father Méndez looms in front of you, grabbing the side of your head and pushing it to expose your neck, wasting no time inserting the needle into your skin, injecting the strange liquid into your body. Whatever it is, it burns. You feel it spread across your neck as you continue to struggle, tears now flowing down your face.
“Bring her to the holding area,” Father Méndez commands.
Without any hesitation, your brother and the man helping to restrain you bring you back down through the hole you had come up out of, carrying you out of the cave as you kick and scream. They bring you to Manuel’s house, carrying you inside. In the back of the house, there is a trap door. The other man retraining you kicks the trap door open before he and your brother gently lower you inside. Once on the ground, you scramble to your feet and stare up at the opening, seeing your brother stare down at you, only, there’s something very off about him. Black veins cover his skin and his eyes are glowing red.
“Vince, you can’t do this! You need to get me out of here!”
“I’m sorry, Sis,” he says softly before slamming the trap door shut.
You stand there in utter shock as you hear the door being locked, trapping you in the pitch black darkness.
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#plagas!leon kennedy#leon kennedy smut#dead dove do not eat#dead dove#gigabyte writes
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Broken Promises - Part 2
Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader
Anon request: I wanted to make a request for an angst by Charles Leclerc, where they have an argument because he has been very distant but he doesn't want to accept it and end up saying hurtful things without knowing how to fix things later.
I took this request and ran with it deciding it would be a good continuation of this fic
Warning: mentions of crash, ICU and hospital stays. Angst with a sweet ending.
The evening spent with Max had been amazing, if you were being honest you dreaded going back to your apartment to the loud noise and people and just wanted to spend it by the ocean with him. He managed to convince you…or maybe it was the birthday cake that was waiting. It was definitely the cake.
He led you back to your apartment and you managed to sneak back in, Arthur and Lorenzo had kept your guests entertained and told them you needed a moment. Turns out the break was exactly what you needed, and of course you were still mad at your brother but it didn’t matter tonight. You smiled as Max brought out your cake and you made a wish before blowing out your candles. The pair of you cut a slice to save to enjoy later when all of your guests had gone for the night.
The next morning you woke up to a text from Charlies and your bad mood started all over again.
Charlie: I hope you enjoyed the night, Arthur and Lorenzo said it was good. I’m so sorry once again.
You didn’t care for his apologies. You were done with him and his promises.
He must have seen that you’d opened his message but didn’t reply because the next thing you knew his caller ID was lighting up your screen.
“What?”
“Is that any way to speak to your brother, sœurette?”
The tone of his voice just irritated you in a way only one of your brothers could. How could he speak to you like that after how he treated you yesterday.
“What do you want, Grand frère?” You almost spat the pet name you use for him.
“I told you I was sorry, y/n. Did you have a good time?”
“No, Charlie. I didn’t. I wanted you there. You promised me. Arthur and Lorenzo were there and Max. The only reason I didn’t cancel was because he convinced me.”
Charles knew there was no point arguing with you further when you were like this and he’d been beating himself up ever since he’d sent that text; but duty called. He had to work and he couldn’t get out of it, especially with how last minute his team had called him in.
He sighed, “will I be seeing you at the race this weekend?”
“Yes. Unlike you, I keep my promises. I’ll be there, but not for you Charlie. I’m going for Max.”
“Y/n wait-”
You didn’t bother listening to what he had to say, “goodbye Charles.” You hung up, cringing at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles.
Max walked into the kitchen where you were sitting at the breakfast bar and kissed you as he passed. “Was that Charles?”
“Yeah, just asking if I was coming to the race this weekend.”
“You need to for-”
“If you say forgive him so help me Verstappen,” you warned slightly playfully but also not wanting or willing to forgive your brother just yet.
He held his hands up in surrender, “just, don’t give him too much of a hard time, he’s probably been beating himself up over it.”
You knew Max was right, but still he’d hurt you. Two days later as you made your way through the paddock holding onto Max’s hand you decided to forgo seeing Charles, he was probably too busy anyway. You both made your way to the Red Bull hospitality tent avoiding Ferrari and Charles at all costs.
Luck, however, wasn’t in your favor. Charles had heard about your arrival and seen it on his socials. He’d seen you in your Red Bull jacket and baseball cap, not a hint of Ferrari red on you. Usually you’d have a piece of merch from both of the drivers in your life, wanting to support the pair of them; but you knew this would piss him off. This was a final act of defiance to show how much you were still angry with him.
You knew you’d gone too far when you saw a red shirt moving through the crowd of blue. Charles was in your face before you had a chance to react, “Why are you doing this?” your brother asked. You’d never seen him look so angry and hurt; maybe now he’d understand how you felt the last three years. “I’m your brother and you’re not even supporting me, how is that going to look to the fans?”
“To the fans? Is that all you care about? Maybe now you know how it feels to have your own sibling not show up for you. Besides, I’m not here to only support you Charlie, Max is my boyfriend and I support him too. He is just as important to me.”
His face fell, “you know what? I’m done. Do whatever you want y/n but just don’t expect me to be okay with it.”
You couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes as you watched him walk away.
The few people who were around for your argument slowly went back to their business leaving you alone. Charles nearly slammed into Max as he left the tent to prepare for the race.
“Charles?” He called but his friend ignored him. He turned back to see you nearly in tears and rushed to your side.
“What happened?” he asked as he put his arm around you to lead you to somewhere more private, where prying ears couldn’t listen in.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just get you ready for the race, yeah?” You wiped your tears and turned your attention to him.
You made your way to the monitors and placed the headset on your ears, standing with the rest of the Red Bull team as the formation lap began. Then it was lights out.
Max pulled away first, closely followed by Lando, Carlos and Charles. They battled for first place as they inched round the first corner. It always made you nervous seeing your brother so close to the other drivers but thankfully they made it through unscathed.
You could tell Charles was driving aggressively, the way he inched closer to the McLaren’s on the corners and pushed his car to the limit as he overtook them. You watched nervously, trying to focus on enjoying the race, Charles knew what he was doing.
Suddenly, a gasp went through the room and time seemed to go in slow motion as Charles' car clipped the back of Lando's, sending it into a horrific flip. Charles’ car somersaulted through the air before it finally crashed down and skidded to a halt, only stopped by the wall.
Your heart was in your throat as you waited for any signs of life. “What’s going on? Is he responding?” You asked as you all watched on in shock.
“We don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” You called back, you wanted nothing more than to rip the headset off and run to the Ferrari garage. You heard the red flag being called and the cars were called back to the garage, but your focus was on the screens as you watched the medical car rush to the scene.
You didn’t know how much time had passed, but Max had made it back and was at your side. He walked you over to the Ferrari garage where you were met with red rimmed eyes as they tried to get any information from the track medics. Max could tell you were in shock. He kept tight hold of you, his touch a grounding presence as you waited for any news.
One of Charles’ engineers made his way over to you and Max as he noticed you standing there. “The medics are with him now, he’s alive but he’s unconscious. They’re working on getting him out.”
You finally let the tears you’d been holding fall. If it weren’t for Max holding you up you would have fallen to the floor right there. The race was called off, none of the drivers wanting to continue after that.
You were in a state of panic, your breaths coming in short painful gasps. You wanted nothing more than to be with your brother. “I need to go with him. Let me go!” You cried.
Max held you tight against his chest, his own face etched with concern for his friend. “We’ll go to the hospital. I’ll get us there, okay? He’s going to be okay. I promise.”
“You don’t know that,” you looked up at him, tears still streaming freely down your face. Your mind was a whirlwind of guilt and worry. The last words you’d both spoken to each other ran over and over through your head. You couldn’t let this stupid argument be the last thing you both said to each other.
When you got to the hospital, the news wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You wanted nothing more than to go into his hospital room and see him sitting up; to be able to tell him how sorry you were and how you hated fighting with him. The news wasn’t good though. Your brother was in the ICU, unconscious and his condition though stable was critical. You sat in the waiting room, your hand in Max’s as you waited for a nurse to bring you back to see your brother.
Hours felt like days before a doctor and nurse finally approached you and Max. They updated you on his injuries and you were finally allowed to see him. Your heart broke as you saw him through the window hooked up to various tubes, machines and wires.
You hid your face in Max’s chest as your tears fell once more, not being able to look at how broken he looked. You weren’t sure how you even had any tears left to shed.
“I should have been there for him. I shouldn’t have said those things. He wouldn’t have been driving so recklessly -“
Max cut you off, “we all drive like idiots sometimes, it’s the nature of the sport. This wasn’t your fault. He knows how much you love him.”
You nodded, knowing he was right but the guilt was still there.
“Do you want to go in and see him? I can come with you or stay out here?” Max asked.
You nodded and gripped your boyfriend's hand tighter as you both entered his ICU room. All you could do was sit and wait and pray. Pray for Charles to wake up, pray for a chance to make things right.
You sat by his side, never leaving. You barely slept, your eyes fixed on your brother, willing with everything you had for him to wake up. As the days went by the news was getting better, the machine breathing for him was removed and he was showing signs of recovery, but he still hadn’t woken up.
It was late into the third night when you felt his hand tighten around yours. You thought you had imagined it at first but your heart leapt when his fingers twitched around yours once more and his eyes began to flutter open. You jumped to your feet, tears flowing down your face once more but this time out of relief.
“Charlie?” You called hopefully, your voice thick with emotion.
Charles blinked against the harsh bright lights, disoriented but a small smile came across his lips as his gaze landed on yours.
He coughed weakly, his voice raspy from disuse, “y/n?”
“I’m here. I’m right here, Charles,” you reassured, smoothing his hair back.
He looked at her with a small smile playing at his lips despite everything he’d just been through, “you’re wearing a Ferrari hoodie?”
You let out a shaky laugh, tears still streaming down your face, “couldn’t exactly be representing Red Bull at a time like this.”
He laughed, followed by a groan.
“I’m sorry, Charlie. I am so sorry for everything. For my birthday and the fight…”
Charles squeezed your hand weakly, “I’m sorry too. I should have been there, I promised and the fight at the race…I just wanted your support as well. I didn’t realize how much I’d hurt you.”
“None of that matters now. I’m just glad you’re awake. I just need you to be okay.”
Charles nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ll be okay and I promise I will make it up to you,” he held up his pinky which you linked with yours.
You both stayed like that for a moment, your hand clasped in his. Max stood at the doorway happy to see his friend awake and the pair of you making up.
As the doctors finished their checks and left the room, you sat down beside Charles, holding his hand.
“You scared the shit out of me, you know? Why were you driving like a dumbass?”
Charles let out a small chuckle, “not my finest moment, huh?”
“No, but you’re going to be okay and that’s all that matters. We can figure everything else out later.”
Charles nodded, his grip on your hand growing a bit stronger. “Yeah, we will. Together.”
You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Together.”
The road to recovery wasn’t going to be easy for him but you knew he’d be back to racing and annoying you in no time. He was going to be okay and you two would work through your issues when he was better. That’s all that mattered.
#f1#formula 1#formula one#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#leclerc!reader#max verstappen x leclerc!reader#mine#beth writes#my writing
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“you know, i like you a lot more than you realize,” you mumble.
you feel your world start to sway due to the copious amount of shots you took. your vertigo is relieved by the gentle breeze coming from the window of your apartment, where you are lying down on your boyfriend’s lap.
slowly you peer up at him, meeting choso’s intense gaze. you quickly tear your eyes from his and start to study the couch next to you.
choso has always looked at you with so much adoration. he’ll completely stop what he’s doing to just look at you with a dopey, boyish grin on his face. the same one that always makes you attack him with kisses whenever you catch it.
you still feel his eyes on you.
“stop staring at me—”
“you’re so beautiful.”
“mm.”
you keep your eyes away from his as you now search for something else to look at, landing on the assortment of drinks you two scattered on your table. you thought it would be fun to have some drinks in the comfort of your own home. choso loved the idea and made an entire night of it.
he’s always been so thoughtful. choso does little things like making sure you’ve eaten, checking on you after work, paying for you. but you’ll never forget when he stayed with you the entire day after you bombed one of your finals, constantly doting on you, bringing you your favorite foods, and buying you gifts when you were too distraught to do anything besides lay there and cry.
you thought you could marry that man right then and there.
he never shies away from showing you his true love and affection for you, no matter how nervous he may feel. you don’t have as easy a time showing your love for him as he does, and it weighs on you.
choso hums back and strokes your cheek, “i know you like me, i never doubted it for a second.”
“i know, but i just feel like i never show it the same way you do. i always act so embarrassed and barely reciprocate it back,” you slur as you look up at choso with furrowed brows. “i don’t know. if you did that to me, i would be soooo sad.”
choso gently tries to smooth your forehead so you’re relaxed again. he finds himself wondering where this is even coming from; he hasn’t once questioned your love for him. he understands that you don’t find expressing yourself as simple as he does; everyone just has different ways of expressing themselves.
“you just have a more reserved way of showing it—”
“no! that’s not an excuse,” you interject. “i know i shy away from the touches you give me sometimes, but don’t think it’s because i don’t like you. i’ve just never done this before.”
you finally look back up at choso, feeling your cheeks become warm.
“you’re such a natural, and i’m kinda just… flailing around. i sometimes feel so stupid. but that isn’t an excuse! i adore you so much, so so so much, choso.”
choso feels a grin escaping him, but tries to keep it together. he relieves himself by kissing your forehead.
“listen chocho, the moment you came into my life, i actually felt myself starting to enjoy it. every time you reach for my hand in public, i feel like absolute shit for pulling my hand away. or when you try to give me a kiss. i wanna love you so outwardly and loudly, don’t think i don’t!” you hiccup. “there are times where i wanna yell, ‘i miss my boyfriend!’ in the middle of work. there are other times when i just wanna start twirling around singing, ‘he likes me! he likes meeee!’”
choso feels his heart fill when hearing your words. despite him never mistaking your shyness for disinterest, it still felt amazing to know you love him as much as he loves you.
“even when i dodge your affections, you still look at me like i’m the only person to exist. and i don’t know how you do it cause i would be sulking if i was in your position,” you giggle.
like clockwork, choso looks down at you with that same lovesick look he always gives you, his face red from a mixture of your drinks and the deep love he holds for you.
even in his inebriated state, he knows he’s going to remember this for his entire life. he’ll make sure you’ll remember this too.
his hand delicately traces over your face and your features. his eyes wander all over, trying to sear the image of you lying in his lap into his head. he closes them and places his forehead onto yours, staying like that for a moment before moving to kiss you on the lips.
the kiss is filled with so much tenderness and affection you both practically become one, trying to quell the giggles threatening to release themselves from between your lips. his hands slowly find yours, and he interlocks your fingers together as he deepens the kiss.
he doesn’t want to let this moment go. but he hesitantly pulls back, feeling himself starting to run out of air.
you smile to yourself, beginning to question why you thought choso would ever doubt you. before you could delve too deep into those thoughts, you feel choso barrage your face with kisses, ending each one with a cute “muah!” you laugh, trying to escape, but choso holds you in place.
after you both catch your breaths, he snorts, “chocho?”
“what? you don’t like it?”
“i love it actually, just like i love you.”
“ah—” feeling your face heat up, you turn away from him. but this time, you feel choso softly pull your face to look at his.
realizing you can’t escape, you draw one of choso’s hands back into yours and slowly weave your fingers into his once again, bringing his hand to your face and drawing it closer to your lips. giving the back of it feather kisses, you look up at choso and feel whatever anxiety you had disappear.
“i love you too.”
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk choso kamo#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fluff#choso kamo#choso#choso kamo x reader#choso x reader#choso kamo fluff#choso fluff#choso kamo imagine#choso imagine
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Just a random thought about how Alastor and Vox must’ve been really good friends before everything fell apart. Because Alastor knows how to make a video ad, he knows how to set things up for a movie/video shoot, things that had nothing to do with his medium, that he probably learned how to do because of Vox, because he was willing to try and learn from or for Vox. And Vox literally welcomes Alastor back home when he finds out he’s returned, has literally counted the years Alastor’s been missing when no one else seemed to know, and fashioned his clothing style to match Alastor’s (assuming it’s not just a case of everyone gets a pinstripe suit!), uses the same techniques Alastor taught Charlie about how smiling can be a tool to keep you ahead of the game.
And how it all fell apart and it wasn’t just Vox that was hurt in the process. Because you can’t tell me the man who hates TVs and modern tech due to its association with Vox doesn’t feel anything for what friendship they had and lost. Who snarls at the mere sight of him on a screen (admittedly while also dissing Alastor), who went straight back to his radio tower to diss Vox right back (and absolutely crush him lol), before threatening him against taking action, privately, twice. Alastor’s just better at hiding how much it’s affected him, and doesn’t let the bitterness of what used to be consume his every waking thought.
And maybe that’s the difference between how they view their old relationship and how the fandom seems to view it. Alastor’s upset about it, sure. He’s bitter now about Vox and everything Vox represents because he’s a past friendship that failed, but he’s also moved on with his life. Vox hasn’t. Vox still obsesses over Alastor, in the way he dresses, the way he talks, how he presents himself. It’s all reminiscent of Alastor. And when he finds out Alastor’s returned, the first thing he does is draw attention to how Alastor’s back! Talk in a roundabout way about how much he’s missed him! Has wondered where he’s been? Sends a spy into the hotel to, well, spy on Alastor! And when that doesn’t work, Vox continues to stalk Alastor through his drones instead. (And then gets off on seeing Alastor get beat up.)
Vox very much has not moved on from whatever friendship they’d had before. He hasn’t moved on from Alastor. (Or from his heavily implied obsessive crush).
We don’t know what happened between them, aside that it’s complicated and sad, that they were friends, and now they’re very much not, and that maybe part of the reason why is because Alastor rejected Vox’s request to join his team (upend his entire life to partner with Vox, assuming Alastor always worked solo and what the Vees currently have is what Vox had wanted with Alastor with his request). We can assume maybe part of why they fell apart was because Vox wanted something more from his relationship with Alastor, something Alastor could not and did not want to give him. Or maybe they just grew apart, grew distant. Vox constantly upgrading and changing and keeping up with the newest trends, chasing whatever new Thing that’ll keep him relevant, while Alastor remained set in his ways because he’s not looking for the approval of the masses.
Anyways, all this to say: when I, and I assume most other OneWayBroadcast fans talk about one-sided radiostatic, it is specifically about how Vox has a one-sided romantic/sexual attraction/crush on Alastor, that Alastor does not return, that has now turned into a one-sided obsession over Alastor. Not that their entire friendship was completely one-sided. I think saying that Vox was the only one who was ever invested in their relationship is a rather bad faith interpretation of Alastor’s character, but also does not do their relationship justice at all. It minimizes Vox’s responsibility in the fallout of their friendship, and puts the blame only on Alastor. It takes away all the juicy complexities of Vox’s character, how he’s bad person who’s done and is doing bad things, and paints him as an innocent victim to “Alastor’s manipulation”.
That’s not to say Alastor was completely innocent in the fallout either. But I hear a lot more about how the fandom woobifies Vox in their relationship than I do Alastor.
#hazbin hotel#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor#Vox#vox hazbin hotel#Alastor analysis#Alastor meta#hazbin hotel analysis#hazbin hotel meta#radiostatic#onesided radiostatic#onewaybroadcast#<- tagging those because it’s mentioned though the post isn’t about the ship#Aroace alastor#aromantic alastor#asexual Alastor#<- mentioned#am I vagueing something I saw in the Aroace Alastor tag? maybe#but this is something I’ve seen and heard from other people elsewhere#about how only Vox cared and Alastor was just ‘manipulating’ him#and other bad faith interpretations of Alastor’s character#I’m sorry if someone moving on from past relationships makes them an irredeemable monster to you#but Vox’s feelings are not Alastor’s responsibility#it’s on Vox and Vox alone to deal with it#that he’s chosen to obsess over it instead of moving on and getting together with Val#is alllllll Vox
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Session One; Flyin' Solo - L.JH
🎙Who; Lee Jihoon (Seventeen) x reader
🎙What; smut, friends to fuckers, producer/idol Jihoon
🎙Wordcount; 2.8k
🎙Warnings; profanity, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation(m), praise kink, jihoon is a messy boy, i think that's it, let me know if I've missed anything though
Summary;
"The last thing you expect when you arrive at your friend's studio to check on him is to find him with a badly concealed erection. And clearly, the right thing to do here is to encourage him to finish what he started under your watchful eye. You know, in case he needs anything."
Minors do NOT interact, which means liking/reblogging/commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.
-2024 Masterlist-
🎙 In The Studio Masterlist 🎙
A/N- This is part one of a series of Jihoon smut that takes place in his studio. I have no idea how many parts there will be in total, I only have 4(including this one) planned currently, but it's kind of an open-ended series anyway. No plot, just cock <3
Honestly, it's not unusual for Jihoon to ignore your messages and leave you on read. It frustrated you to no end at the start of your friendship but these days you know it's his way of telling you that he's seen your message and is aware but just doesn't have the time to respond right now. He never fails to respond later though when he has the chance and often with an apology for not responding faster; which can come in the form of literally verbally apologising or simply offering to pay for dinner. So these days, you don't really mind the lack of response and honestly always assume he'll reply in a few hours.
However, what you do mind is when it's been multiple days of him leaving messages on read. It's not that you take it as a personal attack, because you know he values your friendship too much for that. But you do know it means that Lee Jihoon is being a damn idiot and not taking care of himself yet again.
Which brings us to you once again turning up unannounced at his studio ready to physically drag his ass out to get some fresh air and food. Well, drag is an exaggeration because that muscle-ridden fool is too strong for you to move, and you know that if he truly didn't want you to get your way he could easily overpower you. Yet he never does and always lets you yank him out of his studio, once he's saved his work of course, because he knows you only have his best interests in mind.
You've already pressed the buzzer once, and usually that's enough to have Jihoon answering the door yet this time he doesn't. Perhaps he's fallen asleep, but if that's so, you think it's even more reason to get him out of there and tuck him up in his own comfortable bed.
Just as you press the buzzer again, the door creaks open and Jihoon's slightly wide eyes peek out. Clearly, he had not been sleeping, he's far too alert.
"Oh, hi," He mutters and licks his lips while glancing over his shoulder quickly before looking back at you. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."
"It's been days, you gremlin, come out of your cave." You retort, crossing your arms over your chest and giving him a firm look. The same look you always give him when he's being careless with his health like this.
Jihoon pulls a face, considering and tucks his features behind the door out of view for a second while still holding it in the barely open position, before he sighs and steps back while pulling the door open and not making eye contact with you. "Just let me save."
You hum in agreement and step into the studio after removing your shoes on the mat beside his own, then move over to sit on the couch in wait. Jihoon shuts the door and then shuffles over to sit at his desk. You're so used to him by now that you immediately know something is up, even if you can't tell what it is. He's moving so awkwardly and angled with his back to you. The tense line of his shoulders loosens a little once he's in his seat and tucked under his desk but he still isn't his usual self.
"Ji?" You worry. He hums. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yep, fine, I'm fine." He replies, nodding quickly.
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"Don't you fucking dare. You know I hate it when people lie to me." You warn, frowning at him. He knows that very well and always backs you up when you're annoyed at someone else lying to you. "Tell me the truth."
"Just," He sighs and waves a hand without looking at you. "Give me a minute, I'll be fine in a minute."
"You can't always brush things aside, Jihoon, it's not healthy." He mutters something under his breath. "What?"
"Nothing, don't worry, just talking to myself."
You stare at the back of his head for a minute. He perhaps looks even more tense now that you've called him out. "Face me." He freezes.
"What?"
"Turn your ass around and face me, Lee Jihoon." You demand.
Jihoon swears under his breath at the use of his full name, knowing that you're really not fucking around. Unless he wants to truly piss you off, he has no choice but to listen. He's made the mistake again of ignoring you before and seen your mutual friends do it too, it never ends well.
"Fine, fuck," He grumbles and presses save before slowly, reluctantly pushing his chair out from under the desk to allow him to gradually spin to face you. His face is a wonderful shade of embarrassed pink as he keeps his head turned away so that he doesn't have to see your reaction.
It takes you less than a fraction of a split second to notice the problem. It's pretty fucking prominent in his dark grey shorts, after all. Honestly, impressively prominent. "Huh," You comment both in surprise that you seem to have interrupted your friend in the midst of taking care of himself, and the size of the issue at hand. Or well, no longer being at hand is the real issue here if you want to be technical about it.
"Don't," He begs in a mutter.
"Don't what? I'm not doing anything! Though clearly, you were." You smirk at him, though he's still not looking at you. He sighs and leans his face onto his left palm where his elbow is resting on his armrest at his side. His blush is even darker now.
"Just shut up, please,"
"No,"
"You're such a fucking brat,"
"Mm, yep." You confirm shamelessly. Jihoon lifts his head just enough to peer over at you intrigued. In this setting, in this context, your agreement sounds more like an admittance to bedroom habits and he can't help but wonder if that's true or not.
"Well, I came here to check on you, make sure you're taking care of yourself and I clearly interrupted that." He makes a frustrated sound at your teasing and opens his mouth to respond while straightening a little, less embarrassed now. But your words cut him off. "So don't let me stop you, Jihoonie."
Jihoon's mouth closes slowly, then opens again before he licks his suddenly dry lips and manages to get a response out, oh so eloquently. "What?"
"I said, don't let me stop you."
"Yeah, I heard that."
"Then what's the problem?" You motion to his crotch in a manner that very much looks like you're inviting him to his own body. You are. "Go on."
"With you there?" He mumbles, very aware that his cock is coming back to life at the thought and hoping you don't notice.
You do and smirk as your eyes watch the already impressive bulge against his thigh swell. "I fucking knew you like being watched." You grin at him teasingly and cross your arms over your chest cockily.
"And you like watching."
"Yep so, gonna give us what we both want?" You goad, raising an eyebrow at him and slouching into a more comfortable position. Really settling in for the show.
"Fuck," He gives in with a strong exhale and reaches down to yank the tie of his shorts open so that the waistband will loosen enough to allow him to reach inside. For a split second, he hesitates, his right hand gently wrapped around his hard length, but then he looks at you and sees that you're already intently staring at his crotch, so he throws all caution to the wind and tugs his cock out.
"Huh," You repeat your earlier sound of a comment at the sight of his exposed erection. It's definitely bigger than you had expected, thicker too and surprisingly pretty for a cock. You kind of want to go over and offer a hand, and by hand you mean your mouth, but this isn't about you, it's about Jihoon so you stay in place.
"Don't say something weird." He requests, sounding like he's seconds from scolding you.
"Weird? Me? Never," You snigger. "I was just thinking you're bigger than I expected, is all."
"Than expected?" He repeats with interest lacing his words as his hand starts to slowly stroke his length, fingers just about overlapping around the girth. It's impressive, you'll admit.
"Yeah,"
"That sounds like you've thought about my cock,"
"What if I have?" He hisses a little and tightens his grip.
"You have?" You hum shamelessly. Jihoon's head tips back fractionally at the thought of you imagining him. He doesn't even know what you imagined exactly; if it was genuinely a sexual thought of the two of you or just a curiosity about what he's hiding under his clothes. All he needs to know is you thought of him in some state of undress and he's speeding up his actions as the arousal in his veins burns brighter.
"I may have been wrong about your size but I was right about something."
It takes Jihoon a second to react, he's so focused on the pleasure rapidly building in his body. He had been so close to cumming before you interrupted that he knows it won't take long at all. Especially not with your intense gaze glued to him, he can feel it and knows you haven't looked away once even if his eyes are currently closed.
You were on the money about him, he really is a giant fucking exhibitionist so having you watching him is sending him hurtling towards his orgasm at a speed that would be embarrassing if he wasn't so fucking horny.
Jihoon rolls his head as he opens his eyes to look at you. "About - shit- what?" He wonders, swallowing at the look in your eyes as you drag them up his body to meet his hooded gaze.
"How fucking pretty you'd look." A low moan leaves Jihoon's parted lips as his eyes roll a little. "Oh, you like being praised, pretty boy?"
"Fuck off,"
"Really? Want me to leave and let you finish this all alone with no one to watch and tell you how gorgeous you look right now?"
"Shit," His face scrunches a little in concentration, eyes tightly closed and hand picking up enough speed that he's letting out consistent little grunts and moans of pleasure.
"Well?" You tease, watching as more precum dribbles out of his cock for his hand to immediately swipe over his length and ease the glide.
"N-no, fuck, stay, tell me." He insists, tone taking on a desperate edge. "Tell-tell me. Please. Fuck, 'm so close, baby,"
"Good, I want to see you cum, Jihoonie, I bet you're going to look so fucking beautiful. You already do. Look so good touching yourself like this, Ji, so fucking pretty. Wish I could frame you; pin you up on the wall to look at whenever I want." You're honestly not paying much attention to what you're saying, you're too enthralled by the rolling of his hips into his fist.
It's desperate, all wet with audible squelches of his precum under his palm. And it's perhaps one of the hottest things you've seen in person. He's not even doing anything particularly special, just jerking himself off in front of you but he truly looks breathtaking and so desperate to cum it's driving you kind of insane.
"Being so good for me, aren't you? Letting me see you all pretty like this. Going to cum, yeah? Show me how pretty you look?"
Jihoon does not have the ability to react other than nodding his head quickly, mouth hanging open. And then he's cumming, eyes rolling back as his back arches away from the chair and filthy moans spilling from his lips.
You watch almost hypnotised as he cums all over his thighs and the seat between his spread legs. There's a surprising amount of it and at the back of your mind you wonder if he has a spare pair of shorts or sweatpants hanging around, but at the forefront, all you can wonder is what his cum tastes like.
"Good boy," You mutter out when his hand stops shakily milking his length and prolonging his pleasure. Jihoon's lips twitch up a little at the praise in an automatic response but he's too busy floating on cloud nine while trying to suck some oxygen into his heaving lungs to respond.
For a moment, you just watch Jihoon as he slumps in his seat absolutely sated and relaxed, hand still around his cock but just holding it now pointlessly. And then you get up and grab the packet of wipes from the desk. You're not sure what the boundaries are here, so even though you'd ordinarily clean up your partner, you just tap the packet against his left shoulder until he reaches up and takes one from the opening.
"Thanks," He murmurs and slowly opens his eyes while tilting his head down to look down at his crotch. "Shit." He pulls a face.
"Messy boy, huh?"
"Shut up." He grabs more wipes from the packet and gets to work doing his best to clean up.
"Do you have spare shorts?"
"Mm, yeah," He motions over to a cupboard so you go inside and find a stack of clothing there. "Actually, can you grab sweats instead?" You hum and grab a pair of sweatpants before returning to him.
Patiently, you stand there and watch as Jihoon finishes cleaning up to the best of his abilities then removes his shorts and boxers. "Oh, I didn't grab boxers," You point out.
"Don't have any there anyway." He shrugs and takes the sweatpants from you to pull up over his legs and ass and tie the string together to keep them on his hips. You just stare at him dumbly. Something about the thought of Jihoon not wearing underwear under those very worn sweatpants makes your brain short-circuit a little.
"You alright?" He muses when he looks up and notices you staring down at his bottom half.
"No,"
"No?" He laughs and picks up his clothes from the floor to carefully ball up, dirty sides turned in on themselves and shove them into his backpack to take home.
You don't elaborate and he doesn't ask, figuring you'd say something if it's important or relevant to him, even if he's pretty sure you're definitely thinking about him right now.
Jihoon tidies up the studio and shuts down his computer in calm quiet before moving back over to stand in front of you with his backpack slung over his shoulder ready to leave.
"So uh, I'm thinking that maybe we should do that again sometime?" He suggests, cheeks pinkening again to a pretty, soft shade. You blink at him, trying to bring yourself to the topic and not think about his cock flopping around in his sweatpants. "Yes, no?"
"Again?" You question and he nods. "Watching you cum?"
"Yeah and well, maybe I can watch you too, if you want?"
"I'd rather you fuck me." You mutter without thought making him gawp at you. "Wait, shit-"
"Okay." Jihoon quickly snaps back to reality and nods, cutting off your rush to try and correct what you had momentarily worried was a step too fucking far. "I'll fuck you whenever you want, babygirl, just tell me when."
"Now. Now would be good. You're really hot and I am wet." His eyes widen then turn hooded rapidly before he reaches out to grab the front of your jumper and pull you towards him.
"You're wet?" You nod shamelessly. "For me?"
"Yeah," You pout and tap your fingers against his chest mindlessly. "You should really do something about it."
Jihoon's voice is a low murmur when he responds. "I should." He agrees and then licks his lips. "But I don't have any condoms here so we're going to have to go get some."
"I have some at home." You declare, very willing to take him home and hopefully spend the night working your way through your supply of condoms. "And you should really get some for here for next time."
"Oh, I plan on it. Gonna bend you over my desk one day, yeah?"
"Fuck yeah." You glance at his lips then rush over to the door.
"What the fuck? I thought we were going to at least kiss." He points out puzzled, and a little offended and disappointed.
"I'm too horny, I don't trust myself to have the self-control to stop right now. So let's fucking go Lee Jihoon."
He knows better than to say no when you use his full name. Not that he'll ever say no when it comes to fucking you, as you very soon find out as you begin a wonderful, intensely pleasurable journey of fucking Lee Jihoon. And it all started in the studio.
A/N- Fun fact; I almost put "put you on my shelf" instead of "pin you up on the wall" but the shelf one made me imagine a tiny little figurine sized Jihoon violently beating his meat so I had to stick with the wall comment instead lol
#wkcnet#svthub#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen smut#seventeen jihoon x reader#seventeen jihoon smut#seventeen woozi x reader#seventeen woozi smut#svt jihoon x reader#svt jihoon smut#svt woozi x reader#svt woozi smut#svt smut#svt fic#seventeen fanfic
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When it comes to Abigail Marston leaving John in 1907, a lot of people throw mean comments at her, say that she was unfair for doing so and a lot of other things, however I think that people fail to consider the time that this game is set. This is not our modern day woman, this is 1907, and it might sound like I am stating the obvious but by the hatred that she gets it I think it needs to be said again.
1907!
Do you know the rights that women had then? Or the lack of. Women were bound to their husbands, they weren't allowed to own close to anything and were only allowed to vote in about 4 different states, some women that is. Women were seen as a servant to her husband.
It was also hard for women to earn money, the average woman over 16 working in a factory (as the majority was) earned 5-6 or 6-7 dollars a week, a week! Eggs on average costed 29 cents by the doz, a pound of round steak cost 15 cents and half a gallon of milk costed 15 cents as well.
What about rent? New Austin, which Blackwater and the surrounding area is in, is based of Texas which in 1904 had a rent per room pr month of 28 dollars.
So why would Abigail ever go through all of that? Because of John, because of Jack. Abigail stuck around John for eight years, practically begging him to fix himself, to become better because she knew that she was pretty much dependant on him, because she needs his support to be able to live and she wants to give her boy a chance at a better life but she can't with John constantly picking fights and literally putting her and her son's lives at risk.
A lot of people make it seem like she just suddenly took that chocie, but she didn't, it was a choice that most likely took her years not just due to the financial burden but also the social burden that comes with being a single mom in a time where pre-material sex was seen as a death sin. She could very well be killed merely for being seen with Jack and without a husband.
And not just that, but it was probably also a hard choice because despite of everything she loves John, she really does, yes she screams at him for going out with Saide but who wouldn't. "She won't allow him freedom," no she is scared he is going to die, for us it is easy to say "he isn't going to" because he is a main character and we can just redo if we die taking on twenty skinner brothers or whatnot, but it isn't like that for her. I want you to imagine that your partner/friend/parent told you they were going to fight a gang of who knows how many, you are going to be scared no matter how skilled that friend is because you don't want to lose them. John himself admits it is dangerous work by saying "we always find a way to almost get killed, dont we?" Which Sadie agees to.
Abigail took the choice to leave, putting herself in a terrible situation, not for herself, but for her son. She gave up her one true love so that her son could have a chance at life, have a chance to be better than her and John. It was not easy and it is not something we should shame her for, if anything we should praise her for putting her son before herself.
I love John, I really do, but I think it shows just how shitty of a father he really was, and that Abigail leaving was exactly the push he needed to get himself together, it was the wake-up call he needed. He knew how shitty women had it, he would have to realize how terrible he must have been for her to prefer that over him.
Now am I saying Abigail did everything right? No, she did not. Although I understand her fustrations with him doing bounties she has to realize she is not in a place to be picky about jobs. She did ask John to take on a huge debt for the farm and John is right in one thing "it is legal work that I can handle," and while the farm is taking some time to get up and running it is the best form of income that they have access to.
Now to talk about her annoyance with John going after Micah, it is understandable as it could trigger a decline to their former life of crime or just lead to straight up death. It is unnecessary, revenge is unnecessary, meaning that John is risking their entire life for "nothing." He argues back with "I am doing it for Arthur" but again, yes Micah killed Arthur but killing Micah wont change that, killinh Micah will not bring Arthur back nor put him in a better situation, it is revenge, it is not nessesary, it doesn’t do any good.
If John had died she would not only have lost her husband but also the farm, as women could not own property. I am not that knowledgable on debt laws in 1907, but I would imagine that in some way or another the massive debt John got would end up with her or Jack either way, putting her in a terrible situation.
@heavenlymorals made a similar post back in may 11th where they also explore and explain Mary Linton and Abigail in 1899, it is really amazing and also puts some other light on it.
Sources:
Rent, page 369: https://fraser.stlouisfed.org/title/annual-report-commissioner-labor-6306/eighteenth-annual-report-commissioner-labor-608452?start_page=370
Food, page 233: https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=umn.31951000014585x&seq=233
Wages, page 15: https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=nnc1.cu56779232&seq=15
#rdr2#rdr2 community#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#rdr2 arthur#john marston#rdr john#dutch van der linde#red dead redemption community#rdr2 john#john marston x abigail roberts#abigail roberts#rdr2 abigail#abigail marston#rdr2 micah#micah bell#rdr2 jack#jack marston#red dead fandom#red dead redemption two
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LNDs: Romance/General Headcanons
Yoooooo so here's some headcanons I have for all the boys in Love and Deepspace! I say headcanons but some of this stuff is just straight up canon. This is mainly to help me figure out how I want to write each boy as well, think of it like a warm-up.
Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.
Warnings: None
Blog Information | Masterlist
Xavier
General Headcanons
Xavier is the kind of guy who will 100% own some of the softest blankets known to man. He has an entire cupboard in his apartment just filled to the brim with them, as well as soft pillows.
His phone is almost exclusively on "Do Not Disturb". He has it so emergency contacts can still text and call him and he'll get a notifications. You are the only emergency contact.
If someone near him yawns, he has to. It's one of those things he can't help. Xavier is also the type who will get a bit teary eyed when he yawns.
Xavier knows how to do a lot of things, almost like a Jack of all Trades. The issue is that he doesn't tell anyone he knows how to do things so he doesn't get roped into it. He'll normally play dumb around others if they are asking him to do so.
He can have full on conversations in his sleep. He won't recall anything that happens, and his eyes will be closed, but you can talk to him and he'll have responses. It's honestly kind of entertaining to ask him for things when he's asleep since he always will tell you yes.
Romance Headcanons
Xavier is an amazing cuddle buddy. He's normally pretty warm and his sweaters are always super soft like his blankets. He doesn't mind being the little or big spoon, and once you settle on a position he won't budge from it.
Xavier likes to hold hands with you whenever you guys are out walking together. However, his favorite is just hooking his pinkie with your own while making your way around town.
He's jealous and he's not subtle about it either. He'll glare at anyone who tries taking up your time and attempt to whisk you away at a moment's notice.
To add to the jealousy, he's also overprotective. If you so much as get a scrape while he's around, he's wanting to get you checked into the hospital. If only he could care about his own health as much as he cares for your own.
He's a fan of literally taking your breath away with his kisses. He always starts off with soft, almost shy kisses that then escalate to the point where you have to pry him off your mouth so you can breath again.
Zayne
General Headcanons
Zayne's coffee in the morning is normally filled almost halfway with flavored creamers. He has at least two flavors sitting in his fridge at all times, and whenever a new one comes out he'll snag it.
He's mastered the art of powernaps. He can be sitting on his computer at work and rest his cheek on his fist and pass out for about five to ten minutes if he knows he needs to quickly sleep. He's also pretty good at waking up a few minutes before his alarm goes off on days that he's not exhausted.
He's horrible when it comes to throwing away small candy wrappers while he's working. Normally they end up piling up on his desk when he's in the zone and he doesn't notice until he finished and sees they're scattered everywhere.
He bites the ends of his pen when he's working. He'll only do it if he owns it, but sometimes if he borrows a pen he notices it creeping up to his mouth and has to stop himself. Any old hoodies he owns, especially those from when he went to university, has bitten up strings.
There has been numerous times where it has been in the early hours of the morning and he hasn't slept at all. Still doing paperwork in his office and he can't find his glasses. He just can't seem to notice them anywhere and he knows he just had them. They're on top of his head. If you happen to see him looking around confused, just point at the top of your own head and he'll figure it out. He'll also figure out that he should probably go to bed at that point.
Romance Headcanons
Zayne is a sap when it comes to you. He has a photo of you and him as his phone background, as well as a different one for his laptop background. It's not like you often see his phone, but if you happen to glance he'll quickly lock it before you notice.
He also has a special ring tone for you, but that's not all. If his phone is set to vibrate, he has a custom made vibration for his phone that'll go off for both text messages and calls. That way he always knows if it's you.
At the start of your relationship he doesn't like any form of PDA other than holding your hand. He thinks those moments shared between the two of you is just that...between the two of you. However, as time passes on he'll slowly get a bit more bold in public places.
Despite being dominant in the relationship, he does let you take control of most situations at first. He doesn't like to be suffocating and believes you can make your own decisions. That is until your decisions become horrible decisions and he has to step and steer you into the right direction. Half the time he gets roped into it though. He is absolutely whipped.
He is whipped. You could probably suggest the two of you rob a bank together and he would seriously debate it. He is the voice of reason at the end of the day, but sometimes you make him question things, especially when you look at him with those puppy eyes.
Rafayel
General Headcanons
When Rafayel wakes up before noon, he is not coherent in the slightest for those first ten minutes. If anything you could consider him useless in the morning. He'll normally lay in bed until he's more awake, but if he gets up it's a train wreck. He'll be bumping into everything, not comprehend human speech, among other things.
He has had conversations with random sea creatures before. Once he went to the aquarium and just sat by the sting rays while chatting. They never replied, but he did manage to carry on the conversation well enough.
He will text you for the most random things known to man. Sometimes he uses you like a search engine instead of just looking it up. He'll also text you to come over because he left a glass of water in the kitchen and he's now in his studio. Thomas used to get these texts all the time and eventually he learned not to play along.
Rafayel is polyjamorous. His taste in music tends to vary a lot when he's working on a new painting. Sometimes it's to help him find inspiration, sometimes he just wants something to vibe to. On occasion he has a single song that he'll listen to on repeat until he manages to block it out. On other days he doesn't listen to any music, preferring the ambiance of the ocean with a window open.
He tends to video call more than normal phone calls. He likes to see the expressions of whoever he's speaking with so he knows how they're actually reacting to what he's saying. It also helps him know when someone is listening to him or just pretending and giving generalized responses.
Romance Headcanons
He has a secret sketchbook that he keeps. A lot of them are just random drawings of you or places the two of you have been together. He's not ashamed of it, he just doesn't know how you'd react to seeing a picture drawn of you half asleep, hanging off the sofa with drool on your face.
He's really inexperienced in relationships, at least in this life he is. He could go off the past with you, but that would be moving too fast. So he sometimes has these awkward moments of wanting to do so much more with you but knowing it's far too early in the relationship.
He is always wanting to all over you. It's to the extent that sometimes you have to pry him off so you can go to the restroom. His favorite position is with his arm around your waist and his head in your shoulder.
He will whine about you not spending enough time with him...while you're spending time with him. If he doesn't have you with him 24/7 then you aren't giving him enough attention. He does let you live a life, he just wishes he could be experiencing it all with you.
When he isn't being a total brat, he is super sweet. He will kiss your hands the moment they get near him, shower you in compliments, and if you so much as mention wanting something he'll have it for you within a day.
#loveanddeepspace#love and deepspace#Zayne Love and Deepspace#Xavier Love and Deepspace#Rafayel Love and Deepspace#Lnds#Lnds Rafayel#Lnds Zayne#Lnds Xavier#lnds x reader#x reader#reader insert#lnd#rafayel x reader#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#l&ds#l&ds rafayel#l&ds zayne#l&ds xavier#l&ds rafayel x reader#l&ds xavier x reader#l&ds zayne x reader
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Thinking about the Fate-unravelling incantation once again.
Moros spoke of how he was not only the Fates' brother but also their guardian, and that they raised him under their watch. He was privy to their weavings, as the sole emissary to this trio of all-powerful, reclusive deities whose threads bind even the gods.
So, surely, he was there when Nyx met with the Fates to bring Zagreus back to life? We know that quite a lot of Nyx's children are old old—Thanatos has known Megaera much longer than Zagreus has ever been alive, yet he is implied to be one of the younger or at least middle children—so it's not entirely out of the question that Moros is already grown up enough to work with and for the Fates.
Moros knew of the price and consequences of defying the Fates' weavings. Of which their Mother, the Primordial Night herself, refuses to speak about even to this day, whatever terrible things it cost her or involved. She doesn't even allow any discussion about the Fates themselves, either. It was THAT bad and that's all we need to know.
It speaks volumes of how dire the present situation is, and how much Moros wants to assist Melinoë's task—not just help it, but make it possible in the first place (re: her bloodline curse)—that he straight up defies the top brass of the celestial bureaucracy by doing the godly equivalent of a younger sibling who overheard his older siblings had put some leftovers in the fridge to eat later, then went and stole the food for himself when they left the house.
Oh Moros, you've got it bad. At least you don't officially condone Mel's actions. We all know that's how bureaucracy works, right?
#ksatalks#hades 2#hades game#hades 2 spoilers#moros#moros hades#melinoë#melinoë hades#as someone w/ a younger sibling who has experienced this too many times: stealing my leftovers is grounds for WAR#also i'm saying thanatos could be moros' younger sibling actually. i feel like the younger gods are the smaller they are#charon is described as an “elder son of Nyx” and he's about hecate-size#moros and nem are the same height and they're both about 1.5-2 heads taller than mel#which is much taller than thanatos was to zag#and the thought that young than grew out his hair to copy moros is too cute
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A cute little drabble request for baby fever in the future or for the sleepover: Y/N, Ella, and 2 year old Narfi all get sick with the flu and loki has to take care of all of them, Y/N being the sickest, feels like she is dying and Loki comforts her. Just a little cute one.
Caring Husband and Father
Warnings: sickness a.k.a the flu, fluff
Word Count: blurb
a/n: Thank you for this request, friend. This drabble turned out to be so soft and sweet! 🥹
"Dada," Narfi sobbed on Loki's arm; head lolling from side to side against his father's chest. "I know, little prince, I know..." The god whispered and pressed his lips against the top of his son's curly haired head; trying to reassure him. In vain. Narfi kept on whining and sobbing.
"Are your earaches worse, huh?" The little boy just snivelled and rubbed his snotty nose against Loki's t-shirt. He sighed, "Thought so." and shifted the two-year-old on his arm, so that he could check on his temperature. "But I think your fever sunk a bit. That's good."
Narfi had caught a nasty flu. Well, only because Ella had caught it. He got it from his big sister and well, you... You caught it as well. Everybody was knocked out by it. Except Loki. Perhaps it was his godly biology, which prevented him from getting sick easily. A thing which you were glad about, because he could look after you and the kids. A task he submitted himself to happily.
The god walked with the toddler still on his arm into the kitchen, in order to give him some meds against the flu itself and especially earaches. The boy swallowed bravely the disgustingly tasting medicine. "There you go," Loki pressed a kiss on his forehead. "You are so brave, sweet boy." Narfi sobbed once more and cuddled back against his dad's chest; little arms looping around his neck.
"Come on, little prince, time for a nap." He carried Narfi into the living room and laid down with him on the sofa; knowing that his son was way too clingy and wouldn't let go of him now.
Loki's seidr helped Narfi's earaches at least a little bit and so he slept in on top of Loki; snugly wrapped up in a blanket. It was absolutely cosy and Narfi's weight upon his upper body so comfortable, it almost lulled the raven haired god to sleep as well. He was about to doze off, when a quiet voice brought him back down to earth.
"B-Babe?"
At the sound of your voice, Loki's eyes immediately flew open; head turning to face the door. His heart broke then and there, as he saw you standing there, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. You were utterly pale and had deep rings underneath your eyes. He could see how weak you were and how bad you felt. The flu had really taken its toll on you...
Loki stood up instantly, but carefully - not to wake the toddler sleeping on his chest, "I'm here, darling." and stepped over to you. "Do you need anything, my love? Can I help you?" You coughed, which caused your whole body to shake; eyes glassy. "I-I dunno, I just... I feel like shit." Then your gaze fell on your son. "H-How's my baby doing?"
Loki pressed a kiss against your forehead; the warmth against his lips radiating from your skin concerned him. "He's doing okay; only slept in about ten minutes ago." You felt how your husband wrapped a strong arm gently around your waist. "Come, darling." You didn't argue, of course, and let Loki guide you back to the bedroom.
He helped you lay down. "Stay here. I'll be right with you. I'm just going to put Narfi down and look after our princess." You nodded and curled yourself up into a ball. Loki let his eyes roam your weak and fragile body with worry on his face, before he left the bedroom again.
Carefully, the god put Narfi down; laying him inside his baby cot and making sure he was warm enough. Of course, he took the baby monitor with him, then went to check on Ella. He hadn't heard a word from her in a few hours. It didn't concern the god much, since she's been sleeping a lot in the past days; letting her body work to get the flu out of its system.
Slowly, he opened the door to her room and peeked inside. He was right. His daughter was fast asleep; curled up underneath her blanket. Soft snores left her lips, due to her stuffy nose. On tiptoes, he walked over and placed a hand on her forehead. Ella's fever was gone. Loki smiled softly. At least someone of his family was getting better.
The raven haired god leaned down and kissed her forehead as well; tucking the girl back in properly and left the room again.
Before he returned to you, he made you another cup of camomile tea and took some of your meds with him.
He found you just like he left you... Curled up on the bed. "Darling..." He stepped over and sat down on the edge of the bed. You turned to him. "I made you some tea and brought you medicine. It's time for you to take them," Loki spoke in a quiet voice; handing you the meds and the bottle of water, standing on your nightstand.
Again, you nodded and took the medicine; along of a small sip of hot tea. Loki helped you to get comfortable then; fluffing your pillow and making sure that you were comfortable. "Is that to your liking, my love? Are you comfortable?" "Y-Yes, thank you." Your husband gave you a soft smile. "Anything else you need?" Your soft, glassy Y/E/C met his. "You... Just you... Please..." You reached for his hand; his warm palm engulfing yours.
Another soft smile grazed his lips and he dipped his head to press a kiss against the skin of your hand, before he let go of you again and quickly rounded the bed to join you. Loki cuddled up against you; curled his body against yours. "Is that okay, darling?" "Mhh..." You hummed; "Perfect." closing your eyes. "Thank you for taking care of us." Loki kissed your neck. "Of course, my love. Always."
Baby Fever Crew: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @multifandom-worlds @herdetectivetheorist @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @brokenpoetliz @km-ffluv @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @smolvenger @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake @cakesandtom @anukulee @lady-rose-moon @ainsley30 @lovingchoices14 @lokischambermaid @irishhappiness @mandywholock1980 @totsnotlynn @loki-laufeyson223 @vbecker10 @lulubelle814
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The Realization
It's hard being the only human in a team full of meta-humans, aliens or straight up gods, but Bruce manages to get by...even if internally he's overly critical of the work he does, always comparing himself to others and telling himself to do better. But, he secretly counts his blessings one-by-one at how he has friends colleagues that reassure him everyday that he does so much-yes, even when he doesn't ask for it...Clark always tells him it's in his eyes, that's how he knows Bruce wants it.
Bruce finds that stupid though, the only thing in his eyes is exhaustion, and if not exhaustion, then anger; and if not anger, then it's probably a cocktail of self-loathing, self-hate and self-deprecation sprinkled with a healthy dose of "I wish I was dead."
Anyhow, Bruce counts his blessings secretly, even if it doesn't seem like he's doing so. And while it's hard being one of the only humans without a power in a group full of meta-humans or fully fledged super powered beings, he is grateful for the other aspects of power he has: his name, his face, his money, influence-and one of his actual favorites...when he's in a good mood-his body. Bruce isn't an idiot (Jason: "Not all the time anyway!"), he sees the way people eye him up and down, both men and women alike, he knows their thoughts towards him...or well, his body at least.
He has seen the way women eye his arms and pecs (Wally: "You mean, Batboobs®!? And doesn't everyone eye those?"), watches the way mens eyes glaze over when staring at his mile long legs.
Which brings us to how Bruce never truly feels small, not anymore at least. Even if he was of smaller height for a man (or in general) his position in life and as a hero/vigilante would make him feel and appear big to people. So, Bruce hasn't felt small in a very long time, he tends to not pay attention to things like height much-to reiterate: he never feels small because 1. He isn't and 2. Even if he was, who would be brave enough to tell one of the richest men on earth-let alone THE Batman that he's short?
The answer: no one.
So while Bruce has never had anyone say to his face that he's short, he's the World's Greatest Detective™ (Jason and Stephanie: "Ehhhh...occasionally.) and can see for himself the difference of him compared to everyone else.
Who is everyone else you ask? Well, it's the people he works with and-and Jason. It's kind of hard for Bruce to truly pay attention to height when he never pays attention to it in the first place or when he's usually in life-threatening situations to really care, in fact, he doesn't know why he is even obsessing over such a thing-'but you do know'-his mind replies. The thing Bruce hates most is that he does-he does know what kick-started this whole height thing, and it was his son; Jason.
XXX
It was any other normal day at Wayne Manor...if you count your son entering your top-secret cave injured as normal. Bruce had his mask off, his icy blue eyes analyzing the information on his computer unblinkingly, there's been an issue with abductions recently and he doesn't want to waste any time on finding out who is up to it, so Bruce has been working overtime (Alfred in a tired tone: "As usual...") trying to find out who it is.
Just as his brain is stringing something together, he hears the sound of a motorcycle outside the Cave, Bruce's brain immediately switches to finding out who it could be. He takes into account every person already inside the house, outside of it, what said people outside said they were doing until his brain very obviously deduces that it must be Jason. Hm? Should he heat some leftovers up for Jason? What is the other here for? Why is he even overthinking it? Jason is free to come over anytime he wants...
....
.....
......
But what if the reason is bad? Is Jason mad at him again? Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose from the sudden headache he gets from his mind panicking, the man just groans softly and turns around just in time to see Jason riding into the Cave, his eyebrow raising suspiciously at the lack of fancy tricks his son bothered not doing.
Bruce silently analyzes his son's body for any signs of distress, starting from his head, he immediately noticed the crack in the helmet and can feel his muscles tighten in worry before remembering he's trained his kids to fight and be able to receive hits as well. The thing that causes him to stand up though is the fact that Jason hasn't noticed him yet, and the way the young man is holding his side isn't helping to ease Bruce's racing mind.
"Jason, is everything alright?"
Hm? Was that too forward of him? Bruce knows his children, but he especially knows Jason and Damian hate being asked for signs of-what they deem as-weakness and injury (Damian sipping his tea: "Wonder where we learned that from, father?)
Jason finally looks up at Bruce, his tone sounding a bit slurred as he speaks, "Jus' fine, B. A little-" he grunts as he stumbles off his bike-"scratch never...hurt me." Okay, so it's more than a little scratch, Bruce catches Jason and can't control the immediate frown he makes when the boy doesn't bother fighting his hold. "What actually happened? It's not just a little scratch...you are clutching your side like you've been sh-" his breathing hitches at the words he almost uttered, w-was Jason actually-
"What? S-Shot? Why's it matter if-" Jason quiets down when Bruce's words finally process, his baby blue's widening under his mask at the small ways his dad is starting to panic from the thought-"No! I was jus' stabbed is all...no shots."
Bruce will get on himself later about how his body relaxed a bit more when finding out his child wasn't shot, I mean, what kind of father feels relieved that their kid was just stabbed? He knows-deep down-that it's his...ahem..."trauma response" to guns, but it sucks for him to realize he finds himself more at ease when people he knows are hurt in different ways that aren't a gun...he feels like a horrible person when it happens.
For now though, his main priority is his son who is losing blood, blood that Bruce is finally noticing on Jason's hand.
Bruce grunts as he brings his son closer to his body, feeling momentarily surprised when he lets out the sound from moving the younger. Since when did he ever grunt when moving his children? Another thing is, when did Jason get so heavy in the first place? When did his once small boy pack on so much muscle and-oh, God...please...when did Jason ever have to bend his knees when Bruce held him?
His body is on autopilot and he can feel himself moving to the medical table, but his eyes are busy staring at Jason's bent knees, his mind screaming at him that this must be a prank his son is pulling-oh! Or maybe Bruce is actually in an alternate universe where his child is bigger than him.
Bruce sucks in a deep breath when arriving at the table, gently lying his son down so he can get to work on stitching his boy up while also giving a (most likely) hypocritical lecture on how Jason should stay safe.
XXX
It was ever since that day that Bruce has been hyper fixated on his own height, along with the height of others. He hates how he's been sneaking in tests and making things awkward with his family because he chooses not to answer and instead rushes off to panic when realizing Jason is bigger than him.
It all happened as soon as Jason was patched up too, his mind recalls every stupid miniscule little detail, from Jason's clothes to the way his hair was messy from sleep and-the worst part-how he had to look up at the nineteen-year-old when the young man got close enough to him. Barefoot and all. The worst part is how Jason didn't even seem to notice it, and Bruce is NOT risking letting his son know, because then he will be picked on for being smaller than him and then his Bluejay will no doubt drag his siblings into this.
Not to mention how Bruce doesn't want to deal with a furious Damian who will demand that they, in his words, "stop disrespecting father before he slits their throats."
It has been a miserable couple months for him-and don't you judge him for keeping this obsession up for months! How is anyone-let alone a parent-supposed to process that they are shorter than their kid? Bruce holds back his frustrated tears at realizing his children are grown and growing, for goodness sakes, he had a meltdown just yesterday when it caught up to him that Richard is a fully grown man...he will never let anyone know about how he clutched onto old pictures of his eldest while crying.
And everyday Bruce is hoping and praying against Damian's growth...of course he doesn't want his son to be stunted in his puberty process...but if he decides to stay little forever then that is perfectly okay with him.
Besides panicking over his family's growth, which, yay for them...really, Bruce has been noticing-and I mean, TRULY noticing, his friends colleagues heights. There are certain people where it's just so noticeable, like J'onn for example, that guy is so huge that you are stupid if you don't notice it. Another hero is Big Barda, I mean, she's a seven foot tall woman...you would obviously notice that.
But there are just some people he noticed it with but it didn't bother him before (thank you Jason for kick-starting this!) And now Bruce is constantly comparing himself to the most closest of colleagues to one's he barely speaks to, it's insane how many files he's gone through just to look at heights. His two closest friends colleagues Diana and Clark are two people he didn't bother with height wise. It didn't matter since they made him feel small in different ways...I mean, you have the Amazonian princess with strength and skills that would put any living creature to shame and a Kryptonian that is more human than most humans, who truly has a heart of gold despite any negative views towards him.
And then there is Bruce: cold, stoic, a touch too sarcastic, jaded, cynical, a negative Nancy, a party pooper (Jason says that), no fun, emotionally stunted, anxious, depressed, stressed, old, washed up, unfunny-and the worst of all; short.
Bruce holds back his distressed noise as Wally West, AKA: Richard's best friend who has been over a million times, stands next to him with that ever bright smile of his and is animatedly talking, effectively ruining his depressing train of thought. When did he get so big? So...grown? He takes in the maturity of his once soft face, the man is still cute no doubt, but he isn't that same round faced boy who bothered him about Alfred's cookies. Okay, okay, maybe he still is that same kid...just older looking and taller now.
"-and that's why I'll need that penthouse full of Agent A's cookies."
Bruce blinks away the sudden wetness in his eyes and looks down (ha!) at The Flash confused, though to the normal eye he looks the same old disinterested as usual. "You need a penthouse? What happened to that modest apartment you got?" Wally blinks in shock behind his mask before giving a toothy smile, "Is that what your mind got from that? I was joking about the penthouse...though Agent A's cookies would still be much appreciated."
The ginger shifts in place nervously at the way Batman is staring at him, did he do something wrong? The only thing that somewhat assures Wally that things are okay is the fact that Bruce gives a grunt of agreement before walking off.
He can't take this anymore! If Bruce stays around Wally any longer he's afraid he'll start crying in front of the kid. Instead, he'll just head to the cafeteria and drown his sorrows in today's dessert. Bruce walks in and sees that Diana is already in line, holding back his grumble as he stands next to the woman and internally mourns the fact his head only reaches her shoulder. "Good morning, my friend! It's a lovely day in space is it not?"
Bruce grunts and doesn't bother looking up at Diana, "It's the same view we see everyday we come up to the Watchtower."
The Amazonian just smiles brighter, warmth radiating from her mood. "Though we see it everyday it doesn't make it any less gorgeous up here." Bitterness. Bruce's heart is filled with bitterness at the words "up" and "here" , is-is Diana teasing him? Did she somehow find out about his fixation and is now subtly letting him know that she knows?
The feeling of warmth, like that from the sun, at his right side causes Bruce to automatically look up at the person standing so close to him. His icy blue eyes only widen under his mask at fully tilting his head back to look up at Clark, he feels like sobbing when realizing his head only comes to Clark's chest, why is the man even taller than Diana!?
"Good morning Bruce, Diana. Lovely morning up here, is it not?"
There's that stupid word again! And is it really a good morning when he's been suffering for so long? Bruce frowns at the gentle nudge at his side and Diana's jovial tone, "Told you the view is still beautiful." At Clark's questioning look Diana just smiles more, "Our friend here just is being a sourpuss today. He's grumpy about how I said the view is nice, he just replied about how we see it everyday."
Clark just smiles and looks down at Bruce, his smile turning amused when his friend doesn't move up the line. "Are you just going to stare at me all morning or will you move down the line?"
A scoff is all Bruce can give, not noticing the concerned looks shared over his head as he focuses on piling his food tray with dessert. The concern isn't necessarily from Bruce eating sweets, Diana and Clark both know how much their friend actually has a sweet tooth, the issue is coming from the fact he is willingly eating sweets in front of others on top of the amount it is. Clark just frowns worriedly and sits actual food on his plate while mouthing to Diana about what's wrong with Bruce.
In return, the princess just shakes her head and looks back down at Bruce, choosing to speak up. "You know, it's been awhile since we've eaten alone, just the three of us. Why don't we head to one of our rooms or something?" What she actually means by that is: "let's get Bruce alone so we can figure out what's wrong with him."
The two super powered heroes find themselves even more putoff at Bruce's distracted grunt...it is rare he pulls that one out, usually his grunts have some level of awareness to them, but this one is telling them that he's not actually paying attention. Which is cause for alarm in and of itself. Plus, Clark and Diana have been getting calls from Bruce's family, they are worried about how he's been acting as of late. They report Bruce is running off on them whenever they ask him what's wrong...which actually isn't out of character for Bruce, but if the Batfamily are saying it's different than usual, then it's different than usual.
The two taller heroes lead the shorter to his room, punching his code in before the door opens and they watch as Bruce automatically walks over to his bed and sits on it, shoving a cookie in his mouth and causing Clark to signal to Diana in confirmation that something is wrong.
They use their friend's distracted state to quietly talk about it while joining him in the room, "What's going on with him?" Diana raises her brow as she asks, tilting her head up and to the side so Clark can whisper in her ear. "I don't know for sure...but his lip is jutting out into a micro-pout. I quickly scanned him to see if he was hiding injuries, and while he's not, his muscles are tense as if he's holding back something."
Diana softly ah's and sets her tray down on Bruce's desk, the noise causing the man to look up at them finally. His eyebrows raising when noticing he's in his room, "Why didn't we just eat in the cafeteria?" Bruce holds back his fidgeting at the look the taller two heroes share.
Clark clears his throat, "We were going to originally...but we noticed you were acting off and suggested eating in one of our rooms as a test-"
Diana, being one to never hold back, gets to the point. "A test you failed, Bruce. To be honest, you've been acting off enough to worry your family into calling us to step in. So, can you please tell us what's going on?" Bruce feels genuine embarrassment that this is where his fixation has gotten him, he's too flustered to admit that his issue is the fact he's begun to notice people are bigger than him, I mean, what kind of issue is that?
At Bruce's silence Clark steps forward slightly, his voice patient and gentle when he speaks.
"We are your friends, B. Heck, you even feel like family. And family is there for each other just like me and Di are here for you. Jason has been feeling particularly bad lately...he says he didn't know what he did this time to make you so upset with him, you keep staring him down angrily only to storm off when he looks back at you."
Bruce feels angry with himself for letting such a stupid non-issue get this far. His looks of "anger" weren't anger towards Jason at all, he knows when he thinks hard about stuff he can sometimes look mean apparently, but he was never upset with his Jaylad...the distress was just showing on his face and Bruce most likely masked it with the first emotion that came to mind, one that's easiest for him to express or replicate; anger or irritation.
Bruce hates the involuntary distressed sound that escapes his crumb covered lips, however, for the sake of his family and ending this stupid misunderstanding, he chooses to be...honest (Batfamily: *collectively gasping*)
"Jason...he's bigger than me-" Bruce keeps the Batman mask on so he won't be too vulnerable, his hands tightening on the metal tray from the thought-"For months I have been noticing the sudden growth of my children and I...I didn't know what to do with that information. Did you know that Jason has to crouch when I hold him now? Since when did he need to do that?" At this point of his ranting, Bruce is out of bed and pacing across the room while his friends patiently listen.
"And then it hit me one day that Richard is truly a man now. Maybe that's why we got into so many fights before? I never truly realized that he didn't need my help like before-" Bruce pauses in the middle of the room and clenches his cape in his fists-"He is so much taller now and shining brighter than the little boy I picked up. Timmy is even starting to grow a bit more...which, I don't know if I should be upset or pleased that he's finally growing, that boy scares me sometimes with how small he was."
Bruce's hands instinctively reach up to run his fingers through his hair and he huffs at the mask being in the way, choosing to hide his hands underneath his cape instead.
"Wally is even so big now, did you know that? I remember the young boy with that fat freckled face pestering me about Alfred's cookies...and now that boy has the audacity to get big on me, I think I hate realizing that Dickie-bird is actually taller than his friend now, it's only by one or two inches-but still!" Bruce starts pacing again, his nerves building up once more and telling him to move.
"And don't get me started on Damian. I feel I constantly am trying to sabotage his growth...I never got to see him as a baby and so I hope he stays that small, chubby faced little boy I've come to know. I feel horrible for wishing against his growth, but I want to make his childhood as enjoyable as possible, did you know he didn't even know what movies were when he came here? He was deprived of fun and he can't grow too quickly now or fun childhood memories can't be made."
Bruce stops to finally stare at Diana and Clark, pointing accusingly at them.
"And then you two! I noticed it before, but it was never something of interest to me. I didn't need to pay attention to your heights when I feel small in other ways with you two...you-" Bruce grunts at Clark gently slamming into him and hugging him, the man sounding a mix of fond, touched, baffled and sad. "You don't need to feel small with us. I for one think you are bigger than any of us in many different ways...I mean, you just admitted to having a crisis at realizing your family grew."
Diana joins in on the hug with a soft chuckle, "I'm just surprised you didn't notice our height difference sooner. Clark and I always talked about how cute it is to pick you up, your our tiny human."
The woman just smiles more when Clark nudges her side in warning for her playful words, "But in all seriousness. This has to be the cutest moment we've seen from you ever, instead of a midlife crisis you are having a parental crisis-" Diana cackles again when Clark pokes her side again-"What? I am being serious. But also, this just shows how much you care...and I think it's only normal to feel this way when you never expected to have a family of your own in the first place."
Bruce's breath hitches at the gentleness in which Diana speaks the last part, his eyes prickling with tears at realizing deep down she's right. Ever since he took in Richard he was always amazed and scared at having a family, and no matter how much he's tried to deny it in his worst moments, that's what Richard became ever since he thought of taking him in. Bruce never expected a family, which is why he tries so hard to deny it...and I guess after years of taking care of children it's finally caught up to him that his family-more specifically, his children (because that's who they are) have grown into functioning adults.
He never thought he would want a family after losing his in that alleyway, but if anyone were to take down his defenses...of course it'd be a child.
Clark gently reaches up to tug Bruce's mask off and finds himself wanting to cry at seeing the fat droplets-hanging on for dear life-onto Bruce's eyes, even now his friend doesn't want to seem weak. He can't help but chuckle at the incredulous look Bruce gives him for wanting to cry as well.
"You can cry, Bruce. What are friends for?"
Bruce feels his face grow red, his body loosening in Clark and Diana's hold as months of tension leaves his being through his tears, choosing to hide his face in his friends strong bodies. He hates crying and how good it makes him feel afterwards, he doesn't think he deserves that feeling most days, but for now, it's okay. Bruce also can't help the eye roll at hearing Clark sniffle as well, he's such a crybaby. Diana just smirks at her two boys, carding her long, elegant fingers through Bruce's hair, the two taller heroes paying close attention to Bruce as he shifts in their hold and speaks up. Voice slightly muffled.
"Never speak about this to anyone."
Diana and Clark share a look before silently coming into agreement and lifting Bruce off his feet, reveling in his annoyed protests with laughter.
"We wouldn't dare."
("1. He isn't and 2. Even if he was, who would be brave enough to tell one of the richest men on earth-let alone THE Batman that he's short?" Does the second option imply or mean Bruce is short or is it just a scenario? You decide! I constantly switch between Bruce being a genuine short king and him just being around people that make him feel freaking short 😂.
"Clark gently reaches up to tug Bruce's mask off and finds himself wanting to cry at seeing the fat droplets-hanging on for dear life-onto Bruce's eyes, even now his friend doesn't want to seem weak." <-(Damian and Jason sipping on their tea: "Seems we found that answer to who we learned that from. 😌")
Also, I am so sorry this story got so long! I didn't mean to 😭. This idea has been in my head, and I usually forget my ideas...but this time I actually wanted to remember lol. This is also kind of based off of the one day I was hugging my baby brother and realized I actually had to look up at him...he's only 14 (while writing this I also just remembered he's 14 😭😭😭), I went back into my room and literally just sat there reminiscing on my bed about when he was brought home from the hospital to all the good times we had together and even things I wish I did different with him growing up 😂.
Also, also, I apologize for the constant whiplash from some semblance of humor (or something), to slightly crack-ish (I think so at least) writing to things getting deep and emotional. I was feeling fickle with the vibe of this story I guess, so I said: "why not everything?" 😂😂😂
This is getting even longer cause I like talking too much in notes lol, so I'm going to leave with a thank you! Anyone and everyone who bothers to read this long mess is very much appreciated!
Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)
#dc comics#dc universe#dcu#dc batman#batman#young justice#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#stephanie brown#bruce wayne is a good dad#bruce loves his kids#fluff stuff#fluff and humor#fluff and feels#light angst#emotions#emotional constipation#parenting#cute#crack fic#long fic#superman#wonder woman#clark kent#diana prince#superbat#superwonderbat
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Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let Us In!
Warning: kidnapping, manipulation, isolation, probably ooc Taskforce 141, can be read as Yandere taskforce, not proofread
Prompt: Taskforce find You, a sheltered bunny, who saves and provides a place for them to stay. Can they convince you that they aren't as bad as your family makes the world out to be?
Taken at birth, you had lived with a twisted form of family. A mother that dresses you in pretty clothing to show off, a father would spoils you with items to distract you, a brother who babies you claiming that should always rely on him. Of course, you are never allowed to leave the house deep within the woods sometimes you can play outside in the garden with your brother if you're on your best behavior. Society is dangerous full of mean people who will take advantage of you especially when you become of age.
One day Mother, Father, and Big Brother left. They never came back you’re not sure how long it had been but they did tell you in case this happened there was money hidden away for you to use when food was low.
This is how you spent your next years, alone, only leaving your house to for food and ignoring people who try to talk with you. That was until on the way back, you come across a man slumped on the porch of your house.
Fear and curiosity consumed you as you drew closer to man. He’s eyes were closed and his chest was rising up and down. He was dressed in odd bulky vest and clothing with things strapped to it, and wearing a cap.
Father had told you to never get close to someone especially an unknown man due to the dangers they present. But from where you stand you can see blood seeping through his odd outfit and you remember a show where a little girl playing doctor helping toys who are hurt, you are rarely allowed to watch TV but it would be a secret for you to keep, since it’s the right thing to do besides Mother taught you how to bandages.
So with all your courage and lack of strength, you drag the man in by his armpits carefully placing him in front of the couch. You had left to place the groceries in the kitchen, quickly putting any freezer and fridge stuff away, and left to grab a medical box before returning to the man patching him up after struggling to remove the vest and shirt.
Price was stressed not only did their missing go awry, couldn’t get a heli to pick them up due to a storm rolling in an hour or so, but they all had gotten separate, additional Gaz gone radio silent a moment ago. Thankfully, He managed to regroup with Ghost and Soap.
When Gaz came around he was not expecting to see you over him and neither you did expect him to wake up. Gaz watches you let out a yelp and jump away from him your eyes widen in fear staring back at him.
It takes a lot of coaxing you into talking with him, even when you barely give him much other than your name, this was their parent's house, and you wanted to help him just like the Little girl playing doctor. Just as Gaz’s radio go off with the voice of Ghost call for him to which Gaz response being bombarded with question that he tries his best to answer.
All it was for Gaz to try and convince you to help guide his mates here from the raging storm, and I mean a lot of convincing because you kept cowarding away from him and shaking your head. Gaz didn't feel comfortable do this but he had mentioned how you to help him just like the doc and a doctor helps everyone.
That seemed to work and you told him how there were switches for spotlights outside to the right of the house. You had told him you were never allowed to touch them so he has to do so you don't get in trouble.
You watch as the man who introduced himself as Gaz leaves through the front door, and from the window you watch the lights shine through the night while Gaz moves to stand under the porch. Minutes go by as three figures make their way out from the trees.
Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?
#poly 141 x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#john price x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#task force 141 x reader#gender nuetral reader
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