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#wait! those posters have stuff on them
4bsurdcreature · 9 months
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What's this, me trying to decode Palia's Cipher? It's more likely than you'd think...
The writing says "Writs" on the first image, "Sale" and "Upgrade" on the second, and "Lets Go" on the map. I have yet to figure out what the first and third characters in the blue festival sign are.
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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By the grace of Robin Buckley, Steve gets into college.
She's his first real friend and it's because he knows her, loves her, learned to be a better person from her, that he's able to smile politely and take the hand of his new roommate. His long-haired, tattooed, dressed in all black roommate, who has already put up dark and menacing posters of bands Steve has never heard of and a bedsheet banner with the words "Corroded Coffin" painted on the fabric.
"Eddie Munson," his roommate says.
"Steve Harrington."
"Good to meet you, roomie." Eddie smiles so big it makes dimples pop. It's a good look. "Parents on the way with the rest of your stuff?"
"Oh, er--just me, actually."
Eddie's smile doesn't waiver. "Need some help?"
Normally, Steve would say no, but he just spent the last hour unloading Robin's stuff. "That would be great, thanks."
So, they work together to get Steve moved in, and as they work, he learns more about his roommate. He is a weirdo, an oddball, fundamentally strange, but Steve can't help but be charmed.
Eddie puts on music, something aggressive with loud guitars and drums, and Steve unpacks. He pulls out a picture of himself with the kids during one of their game nights, displaying it carefully on his desk.
"Wait," his new roommate says. "You? And the dnd children?"
Steve laughs. "They're the kids I babysit. You play that nerd game?"
Eddie's nose wrinkles. Something in the back of Steve's mind notes that it's cute. "Nerd game? Dnd is So. Much. More. It's--it's storytelling and strategy and--" Eddie stops, blinking at Steve. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"
"Little bit," Steve smiles.
"I can't believe you know dnd. That you babysit nerds. You look like such a jock," Eddie shakes his head in disbelief.
"I am a jock," Steve agrees. "And I love those dorky little shitheads. I tolerate the game."
"Steve Harrington. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
"Guess so." The smiles they share are wide and sweet, bringing out Eddie's dimples in way that makes Steve long to touch.
After that, they're inseparable. Robin and Eddie and Steve. They study, eat, go to parties, hangout; anything, as long as they're together.
---
Three weeks into the semester, as Steve gets dressed after swim practice, he pulls a shirt out of his bag that doesn't belong to him. It's a black tee, Metallica logo front and center. He chuckles, puts it on. It's soft from wear and smells of laundry detergent and Eddie--cigarettes and leather and some kind of sweet musk. The scent puts him at immediate ease.
He meets Robin and Eddie for lunch. They were early, already have their food and seats, so he walks over to drop off his backpack. Eddie gives him a bright, dimpled smile, but within seconds his mouth is falling open a little, the tips of his ears turning bright red.
"You alright, man?" Steve asks.
Eddie startles, grabs his cup, jamming the straw into his mouth to chew at the plastic."You're--my shirt?" he says.
"Oh, shit. Sorry. Grabbed it by accident. I'll wash it for you."
His roommate flushes pink. "N--no, you don't have to worry about it."
He wants to question Eddie further--he's being so weird--but Robin interrupts. "Dingus! Go get food. Hurry up!"
He does as he's told, but when he comes back, Eddie is even redder than before, and Robin has a wide smirk across her face.
"What is going on with you two?" He asks as he puts his tray down.
Neither of them answer, andEddie launches into a passionate re-telling of some music student drama, so Steve let's himself be distracted.
---
It's mid-October and Steve's coming home from the gym, the one place that Robin and Eddie refuse to accompany him. As he nears his room, he hears music. It's not heavy metal, but something soft and slow and acoustic.
He tries to be quiet as he unlocks the door and enters, doesn't want to disturb Eddie, doesn't want him to stop playing. He never practices when Steve is home, says he doesn't want to be a bother with the noise.
Eddie's sitting on his bed, guitar in hand. There's a battered notebook open next to him, a pencil held between his teeth. He hums a bit, pauses to jot something down, and goes back to playing.
He looks beautiful, Steve thinks, bent over his guitar.
Steve is just about to announce himself when Eddie stops playing again. He writes something in the notebook before resting his head in his head. "Pathetic, Munson. Get it together," he mutters.
"Hi!" Steve says. It startles Eddie, who jumps and almost drops the guitar.
"Stevie!" Eddie stumbles to his feet. "I--uh--you're home!" His face is crimson.
"You're really good, man," Steve says. "I'd love to hear more sometime."
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Eddie nods his head, grabbing for the notebook and slamming it closed. "Sure thing." He stuffs his feet into his Reeboks. "I gotta--I gotta go. Back soon."
Eddie stumbles out their door, notebook clenched firmly in hand.
He is so weird.
---
In mid-November, Robin gets invited to a party by a cute girl. They all go.
Steve isn't trying to hook up. He hasn't slept with anyone since they started school, too caught up with Robin and Eddie. But there's a girl, wavy brown curls and wide green eyes (he has the fleeting thought that they should be deep brown, that it's wrong that they aren't), and she's smiling at him.
Flirting with her is easy.
He doesn't know what breaks his concentration, but he turns to face the rest of the room, eyes falling on Eddie. Eddie who is watching him, his deep brown eyes swimming with hurt, with anger.
It sends a shock of pure panic up his spine. "Eddie!"
Eddie turns on his heel, disappearing in the crowd. Steve follows, but by the time he navigates through the partygoers, his roommate is nowhere to be found. He hurries back to their dorm, heart pounding in his ears, mouth dry.
It's dark in the room, though, and for a second he thinks Eddie isn't home, after all. But he turns on the light, illuminates the rigid lump under Eddie's quilt.
"Eddie?" Steve says, voice soft.
He doesn't respond, though Steve can tell he's awake. He tries again, but Eddie curls deeper under his covers.
Steve spends the night wondering what he did to hurt Eddie so bad.
---
They're back to normal after Thanksgiving. Steve is so relieved he doesn't even ask.
They stay up all night every night studying for finals. By the time Steve's last test rolls around, he's giddy and frantic. He grabs his textbook, shoves a notebook into his backpack, gets to the English building with just enough time to take a last look at his notes.
Only, he flips the notebook open and it's not his English notes. It's song lyrics.
Steve should close it. Put it back in his backpack. It's private. But he's already reading the lyrics written there. They're sexy. The song's about a guy, one Eddie seems to be totally gone for.
A line catches his eye, "need you on every surface in our room." He reads it again and again until the only thing he can see is the phrase, "our room." His whole body is warm, heat pooling, and he's chubbing up in his jeans in the middle of his English class.
Steve flips the pages, anything to get his mind off of that song, and that's when it hits him like a ton of bricks. All those weird moments--the t-shirt, the song, Steve flirting with a girl-- Eddie likes him.
Steve wants to rush to the dorm, wants to confess everything, even starts to stand, but--he has a final to take.
He makes himself close the notebook, but catches sight of another song as he does. It's a love song. It's plaintive and yearning and wanting. And every lyric is for him, about him, about things they did together. It's also unfinished, breaking off mid-way through the second verse.
He doesn't know how he missed it before, but as the professor hands out the test paper, Eddie is all he can think of.
---
When he finally gets back to the room, he finds Eddie's frantic, hair frizzed around his skull. All his bedding is on the floor, the drawers of his wardrobe pulled open.
"Eddie?" Steve asks.
"Have you seen my notebook?"
"What?" Steve's heart drops.
"The black one? It's kind of beaten up?"
"I--uh, yeah. Sorry, Eds. Accidentally grabbed it on my way to class." He pulls his backpack from his shoulder, unzipping it.
"Did you--did you read it?" Eddie's voice shakes, his face painfully red.
Steve doesn't know what to say, what to do. He wants Eddie. Has for a long time, just hadn't been able to put it together. And he doesn't know how to fix what's spiraling out between them.
"Eddie," he says. Can think of nothing else, hopes his desperation is clear in his voice. "Please." He closes the distance between them, slowly, carefully. Cups Eddie's chin in his hand.
They stare at each other, Eddie's eyes wide with shock. Steve can feel the other man's breath on his face, smell the tobacco and sweet musk scent of him.
"Every surface of our room, huh?" Steve asks.
Eddie's cheeks flush. He turns away, bashful. "Something like that."
"And if I want it too?" Steve whispers.
The words hang between them for several beats, before they both move to close the lingering distance between them. Their mouths slip together, like it's nothing, like they do this all the time. Steve grasps at Eddie's curls, fists a hand into his t-shirt, totally lost to the rhythm of the kiss, the easy slip of Eddie's tongue in his mouth.
Eventually, the come up for air, both pink cheeked and panting.
"You're full of surprises, Steve Harrington." Eddie breathes.
"Just wait," Steve smirks, moves in to nip at Eddie's bottom lip. "We have so many surfaces."
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dumpywrites · 5 days
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Facade - Jungkook
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Prompt: Your friend arranged you on a date with a BTS member. The catch is, you have to pretend like you’re not a fan. 
Prompt request: HERE
Genre/tags: Fluff, strangers (?) to lovers, idol Jungkook, fan/army reader
Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader
a/n: I obviously don't know how real idol life works, let's just pretend this is how it looks like ok lol
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“You did not just set me on a date with Jeon Jungkook.”
Folding your arms, you stood with your eyebrows knitted together, looking straight at your friend who in contrast had a big grin plastered on his lips. You bit into your sandwich, looking left and right, all skeptical about people overhearing your conversation. The guy in front of you then repeated his sentence again just to humor you. 
Undoubtedly, you did not hear your friend wrong. Man really just set you up with the one and only Jungkook from BTS. Being a set stylist in Big Hit and all, it came as no surprise that he knew the boys, but you did not know that he was that close to the point that he could introduce them to you personally. In fact, you were never aware of how close your friend was with them until now.
While it was true that you had told your friend, although mostly jokingly, about how you wanted him to introduce him to someone, you did not mean this. You did not mean introducing to the guy whose songs you literally had in your Spotify wrapped. 
“Felix, you can’t be serious, how??? I don't think I have anything to wear???“
“Here’s the catch.” The guy said sternly, putting down his chilled drink. “You have to pretend like you don’t know him.”
You looked at your friend as if he just turned into a fish. The sentence he blurted out just sounded ridiculous. 
“Okay, okay, I’m aware of how unbelievable that sounds. Obviously, everyone knows who he is. All I’m asking is for you to at least pretend to not be a creepy fan.”
“I’m not a creepy fan.” You looked at your friend, pretending to feel insulted. 
“You took a picture of his Calvin Klein poster at the mall last week.” He argued.
“That doesn’t count, I was asking about the location.”
“You mentioned something about rock-hard abs…”
“Okay, fair.” You rolled your eyes. “But I’m not one of those sasaeng if that’s what you mean.”
“Duh, I wouldn’t have suggested this if you are.” He rolled his eyes back at you. “The other's been teasing him about relationship stuff and your face popped up in my head." He sneered. "When I showed him your picture, he seemed to be interested.”
Your eyes widened. “Which picture of me did you show to him?!“
“Doesn’t matter.” He dismissed you. “But you’re somewhat of a fan, so you must know that he’s mentioned that he doesn’t date fans.”
“I’m aware.” You sighed. 
“I think that’s bullshit to be honest, he’s just saying that for safety purposes. So army wouldn’t fight over him and stuff?” He chuckled. “But just so he won’t get put off on the first meeting…”
“Yeah, I get it.” 
“You sound discouraged.” 
“No, I’m beyond ecstatic, it’s just that…” You stopped to sip your drink. “I don’t know, the idea of lying to his face just doesn’t sit right with me.”
“You can tell him later if the date goes well! It’s just so he won’t run away on the first meeting…”
You frowned, contemplating for a good moment. “Alright fine, but you have to help me with the outfit.” 
“I got you covered, girl.” 
**
That was how you ended up waiting in a private room, at restaurant way too fancy for you, sitting down awkwardly at a table that has a paper written “Reserved for Mr. Jeon” on it. Out of nervousness, you kept fixing the non-existent crease on your blouse, the one Felix helped you choose just the day before. 
Felix was the one who drove you there, since he knew the place and both of you basically talked with him as a bridge in between. Your friend did mention the possibility of your date being late, due to the fact that he could not just enter the place from the front door like normal costumer would.
Just around six minutes of fidgeting your fingers, you heard a light click from the door handle and you quickly straightened yourself up. Honestly, you wished he came even later, cause you were nervous as heck. Thank heavens for the good air conditioner or you'd be wetting your outfit with sweat.
And so there he was, walking in full slow motion before your eyes. He was walking in casually, so effortlessly. Running his fingers through his black, slightly permed locks, he closed the door behind him and you swore his black blazer was swaying in an animated way. There was a shine in both his eyes and lips. You were definitely wearing a pink tinted glasses and you were fully aware of it.
“Hi, you must be Y/N.” He flashed a bright smile and took a seat. “Sorry I’m late, had to make sure no one saw me and all…”
“Don’t sweat it.” You said, trying not to sound breathless. 
“You’re very pretty by the way.” He grinned. “Like, actually better than the picture Felix showed me.”
“Thanks…” It was impressive how you manage to not stutter while your heart was doing a backflip. “You look great too… I mean I’m sure you get it all the time.”
“Don’t even.” He laughed. “I look great cause we have a team of professional makeup artists on stage. Today though, I’m just Jeon Jeongguk in the flesh.” 
You wanted so badly to hit him because there was no way this man really just said that his no makeup face was anything but gorgeous. 
“Anyways!” The guy exclaimed enthusiastically. “Let’s order? I’m starving!”
“What do you recommend here? I’ve never been here before…” 
“Oh, I’ve never been here either. I just asked Jimin-hyung to recommend me a good place for a date…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I figured it would make a good first impression.”
“You could just ask me out for a tteokbokki and I would’ve said yes.” 
Wait, you didn’t mean to say that out loud.
Jungkook’s laughter filled the room suddenly, which taken you by surprise. “That sounds awesome, we should totally get some after this!” 
You couldn’t help but to smile as well. 
“Felix told me you’re a copywriter?”
“Ah yeah, I am. I mostly work for social media stuff.” You explained as you flipped through the menu. “I kinda want to indulge in writing music but I don’t know where to start…”
“You should definitely try it!” He said in excitement. “I didn’t get to actually write my last album since the company decided to go full English, but I’d like to, maybe for my future releases.” 
“I’m looking forward to it.” 
“I can introduce you to my writers and producers if you want?” He looked at the ceiling for a second, pondering. “Have you listened to my song “Seven”?”
As a matter of fact, you had memorized the song lyric by lyric, but you couldn’t just tell him that. 
“O-Of course.” You cursed secretly for stuttering. “It’s everywhere, don’t act like that song didn’t top the charts.”
“Right…” He said, grinning while looking away from your eyes. “I mean, I could introduce you to the writers if you want.”
“There’s no need, I’m sure I can learn a thing or two from you.” You looked at him, testing the waters. 
“Or that! I prefer that, honestly.” He laughed. 
Dinner went extremely well. You were surprised at how at ease you were with him. He was fun and easy to talk to. He was talking about every dish in a very passionate way, which you found endearing. You share the same movie taste as him, which did not really come as a surprise to you, but it absolutely did to him. His eyes were practically glowing talking about the upcoming Deadpool movie. 
The guilt of pretending still lingered in you and you couldn’t just simply ignore it. No matter how comfortable he made you feel, you kept feeling on edge, scared of the possibility of spilling something you’d rather him not to hear. 
“So, are you still up for the tteokbokki?” He asked after giving his card to pay. “I mean, we can’t just eat them on the street like normal people cause you know…” He sighed, raising his eyebrows. 
“Oh yeah, I totally forgot you can’t just…” 
“I’m sorry, it sucks.” He smiled sadly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my job but… I guess it’s just a small price to pay.” 
There was a very clear hint of disappointment in his voice, and you felt awful. “I’m so sorry.”
“Wait, I can just tell my driver to drop by so we can get some and I don’t know, eat in my car? Unless you wanna eat in my place which sounds bad, I don’t think you’ll be comfortable knowing we just met—“
“Jungkook, it’s alright.” You assured him. “We can just get them next time.”
“There’s a next time then?” He said with an eager smile. 
You blushed. “Of course. I had fun…”
“Okay… phew!” He exhaled comically and you laughed. “You know, I’m glad I came today.”
“Me too.” You smiled. 
“Can I have your number?” He said with puffed cheeks as he bit the inner side of his mouth. “It’s not exactly convenient to talk via Felix.” He chuckled. 
After exchanging phone number he offered to take you home with him having a driver as the argument. You refused, but mostly because you didn’t know if you could handle being in a close distance and such small space with him yet. Your heart could barely take his boyish grins and cringey jokes. You certainly needed more getting used to. 
Your friend was so gonna get an earful about this. 
Maybe you’d treat him food too as a thanks. 
**
“So?” 
“I’m in trouble, you don’t get it.”
Your friend laughed out loud while you sighed and palmed your face. 
“Aren’t you happy that it went well?” He snickered, eyeing the unopened notifications from Jungkook popping up in your phone. “He even texts you daily, don’t you know how busy he is?”
“He still doesn’t know that I basically have his album at home.” You groaned, slumping into the table. “Albums! And his posters… his light stick…” You ruffled your hair in frustration. 
“Relax, he clearly likes you! Look at those puppy eyes emojis he sent you.”
“How am I suppose to tell him now?!” You looked at your friend in disbelief. 
“I’m sure he’ll understand, you just gotta find the right timing.” 
“That’s easy for you to say cause you’re not the one dealing with it.” 
“Shut up, look…” Felix took your phone and shoved it in front of your face. 
“Are you free this Saturday? Let’s watch a movie!”
“Oh my god???” You snatched your phone instantly, eyes fully open.
And so here you were again, somewhat dolling yourself up for a mere cinema date. You did not step out before video calling your friend and sending the view casual outfit option you had. 
This time Jungkook insisted on sending you a driver to pick you up, mentioning how it was safer and more convenient for you that way. You felt a bit weirded out by the treatment but you guessed it was only right given his status. He even said that he wanted to pick you up himself if he could. 
The first thing you noticed after stepping into the cinema was how empty it was. Sure it was quite late at night, around eleven, but it was not that late to the point where nobody would be there. You had been to the cinema at the same hour before and you were sure it wasn’t this empty. Although you were feeling suspicious, you showed the staff your booking code anyway and she led you to the auditorium. 
How terrified you were to found the auditorium to be empty also, only the huge screen playing the commercials before the movie. You began to look around, terrified. Was this some sort of prank? You were not sure. Out of the blue a finger tapped your back and you yelped in horror.
“I’m sorry! Did I scare you? I was in the restroom.” It was Jungkook. 
You stood up for a few seconds, still processing the whole situation. Your eyes were glassy due to the fear and your heart was beating rapidly. Jungkook just stood there, wearing an oversized grey hoodie and a baggy jeans, looking handsome as usual, just staring at you with two cups of soda in his hands. He had a beanie over his head, making his face look rounder and pinch-able. 
“Hey… are you okay?” 
You cleared your throat, scratching your eyes. “I was scared I thought I got pranked or something.” You chuckled, vision still quite blurry. 
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you that I rented the whole place… I just don’t want people to see me and make a fuss about it…” 
“It’s okay. I’m here now, let’s just sit down?”
Jungkook followed you as you picked a random seat in the middle of the room. 
He was being awfully quiet as the movie started playing. You noticed how suddenly tensed he was and you saw his hands trembled for a quick second before he shoved it down his pants pockets. 
“Uh, Y/N?” He called. 
You were startled. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I can’t take you on a normal date.”
Your heart melted at the statement. While it was true that you were a fan, but seeing him being a considerate and gentle guy in real life completely swept you away. 
You smiled, looking at his direction. “I mean, as long as we’re spending time together I don’t care where or how.” 
He flashed you a smile, one that could turn you into a puddle instantly. Your eyes darted to a staff that suddenly came to your seats, with two cups of what seemed to be snacks. Your eyes beamed with excitement at the realization of what was served to you. You gasped, covering your lips. You barely mouthed a “thank you” to the staff and they bowed before walking out. 
“I didn’t know they serve tteokbokki here.” 
“They don’t… I just told my driver to get us some.” He said timidly. “I hope that’s okay?”
“This is the happiest I’ve ever been just to eat a tteokbokki.” 
Jungkook breathed out a sigh before smiling brightly. “You know, I don’t even remember the last time I went out on a normal date… I’m sorry if it’s weird to you.” 
“I haven’t been in one in a while either, it’s okay.” You smiled back, poking the tteokbokki and took a bite.
He started stuffing some in his mouth as well. “No, it’s different… I think I will never get the chance to actually date normally, you know? Not in the near future at least. I just wish people respect my privacy more, that’s not much to ask, right?”
“I’m sorry you have to go through this.” 
“Well, at the end of the day, I love what I do and I don’t regret anything.” 
He shrugged and continued to stuff more food in his mouth, making you giggle at the sight. You had seen him eat multiple times on his weverse live but seeing him actually eat with such enthusiast right in front of you just felt different. God was he cute. 
“I’m glad you’re not like those people.” He looked at you, smiling with his mouth full.
You froze. Am I though? You thought to yourself. Immediately the eye contact was broken and you straightened yourself on the seat to watch the movie, the one with plot you never really got to know at this point. You did not realize how you never really responded to his sentence. 
He did not press over it again and you were glad. Instead of opening his mouth to ask for more, he put his hand over yours instead. A bold move, which surprised you, but his touch was oddly calming and in no time you found yourselves intertwining your fingers together. 
After the credits rolled, both of you stood up to exit but Jungkook quickly caught your right hand again, refusing to let go of it yet. You found it really adorable so you let him be. 
“Let me take you home, yeah?”
“But aren’t you worried? What if someone snoops around seeing the same car drops a random girl and then you later?” You reasoned. 
“You’re not some random girl.” 
You were both mad and smitten that he chose to focus on that. “That’s not the point.” 
“I know… it’s just,” He puffed his cheeks. “I wanna spend time with you more, I don’t really get breaks that often so…”
You almost let out an “aww”. You sighed, fighting the urge to just hug him right there on the spot. “Alright.”
“Yes!” He celebrated, throwing his left fist in the air. “Don't worry, I have a driver trailing from behind in case I get followed. I won't drop you in your specific apartment tower too, if that helps."
“You drove by yourself?”
“Kinda wanna chat just the two of us.”
Okay, you were now holding every fiber of yourself not to just jump and kiss him.
“Is that alright though?” You worried. 
“The staffs here already signed NDAs and stuff, so I hope so.” He shrugged. 
Nodding, you followed him to the parking basement, where he parked his car. He did not let go of your hand until he reached his car. Not minutes after starting his engine, he already was asking for your hand. His eyebrows wiggling playfully at you, while he whined about how he could comfortably drive with one hand. 
You were in no position to complain though, your hand felt too comfortable resting against his. It almost felt like it belonged there but saying that about Jungkook made you feel delusional. Despite actually going on a date with the man himself, it was still surreal for you, the idea of going out with your idol. 
“Do you think I’m going too fast?” 
“Your driving? I guess it’s alright.” You raised one of your eyebrow, looking at him. 
“You know what I mean.” He chuckled. “About this whole thing…”
Before you answered, he spoke again. 
“I get way too excited over these things, I don’t have that much experience and not to mention how I don’t really get that much time to do so.” He nervously laughed. “I’m a fucking twenty-six year old guy who gets way too excited over holding hands…” He shook his head. The curse word rolling out from his tongue actually sounded natural, somewhat sexy.
“I think you’re fine the way you are.” You squeezed his hand, patting the top of it with your other one. “Everyone experience life differently, and so what if you get excited over holding hands? You think I don’t?” You chuckled. 
“You do?!” He said cheerfully. “We’re such a great match already.” He joked. 
You rolled your eyes but your lips were curled into a shy smile. 
“I like you, like a lot.” Jungkook suddenly confessed, as if it was nothing. 
You almost jumped in your seat, looking to his direction. His eyes were on the road but he was smiling from ear to ear. 
This was it right? This was the moment of your dreams. You were literally dreaming about this.  The idol who you admire, confessing his feelings to you. But a small part of you thought about how wrong it was. You were putting a facade in front of him. While you did not lie or put up an act just to impress him, he still didn’t know that you were one of his fans. Will he get mad if he finds out? You’d rather not find out. 
“Jungkook, it’s…” 
“You don’t have to answer right now. We’ll see each other again, right?” This time he squeezed your hand, dragging it near his chest. You felt his heart beating rapidly. 
You kept quiet, only nodding silently. Looking at his direction suddenly felt stuffy so you looked at the window instead, the road and traffic lights kept you busy. 
It was not long after and he finally stopped at your destination. 
“I’ll see you again?” He said, voice sounding a little bit like a beg. 
“I… I can’t.”
Jungkook’s jaw dropped slightly, he looked at you with furrowed brows. “Why?”
“I’m not who you think I am…” You looked away, backing off so your body hits the car door. 
“What’s that suppose to mean?” He leaned towards your direction, making you nervous. 
Panicking, you finally spilled the beans. “Jungkook, I’m actually your fan.” You breathed out. “I’m an army…”
You were so ready to get yelled and thrown out. This was gonna be the moment you wished you had never met—
“I know.”
“Wait, what???” You replied, voice almost a little too loud.
“I saw your little Koya charm in your bag when we first met, I was waiting for you to bring it up but you never say anything.”
Shit, guess you forgot to take that off. 
“But you said you were glad I’m not like those people…”
“And I don’t mean my fans? I was talking about those crazy stalkers and dispatch.” He looked at you in disbelief, almost as if he felt betrayed. 
“I… I don’t know what to say…” You blushed, the sudden realization hit you that Jungkook in fact had known about your secret since day one. 
“That was it right? That’s the only thing that I supposedly don’t know about you? You didn’t lie about anything else?”
“N-No, of course not…”
“Then my offer still stands, I’ll let you know when I’m free next.” He grinned. “If you want to?” 
“I want to…” You managed to say, in which seconds later the huge built guy launched towards you for a hug. 
“Hey!” You whined, but you were aware of how hot your face felt. Your whole body probably had turned red. 
“Can I kiss you?” He asked impatiently, eyes big like a puppy asking for food. “I mean… it’s okay if you don’t want to?” He giggled. 
“I swear you're gonna be the death of me…" You groaned. "You don’t have to ask!” You pouted with your cheeks burning like crazy. 
He showed you his tooth-aching smile, one that turned his eyes into crescents, before he quickly dipped and met your lips. It was a short and soft peck. He did left it lingering for a few seconds before pulling back. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you were lowkey expecting more. 
“Good night.” He giggled. 
“Good night to you too, silly.” You laughed as well, hugging him close and pecked his cheek. 
He finally let you go so you could grab your bag. It was kinda awkward after all hugging in the car seat but oh well. You clicked open the car door, slowly stepping out. 
“Drive safe.” You said, looking back to him. 
He nodded before waving you goodbye. 
That night you went to bed with your eyes wide open. How could you even sleep? The whole scenario felt like you just receive something only someone who had won a war in their past life would get. You took your phone, wanting to text the guy who you totally did not have as your wallpaper now. 
There were already two bubbles of notification from him, but your eyes almost popped out reading the second one. 
“I have arrived safely! No one followed me! Hehe”
“Any chance you want a signed album from Namjoon-hyung? I can give you for a very low price of a single kiss! 💜”
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Thank you for reading! 🍷
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Prompt request: HERE
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angel-of-the-moons · 5 months
Text
Small Surprises
Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Single Mother!Reader
TW/CW: Some mentions of past childhood abuse, cheating partner, mostly fluff
A/N: Like the Symbrock one I did, this one will be one whole fic with a few times skips here and there! This fic will also explore a bit more into the autistic side of Steven as a character, based off my own experiences with my autism, tics, habits etc! Also, once again, featuring snippets of the hobby headcanons done by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction! (I love those headcanons so much they are canon as far as I'm concerned asdfghjkl)
Taglist: @chrishy973 @katitakenway @queerponcho
EDIT: Part 2 is out now!!! Read it here!
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Another droll day at the museum, the same disinterested customers and more nagging from Donna. Honestly, Steven was lucky he got his job back at the museum--though he only surmised it was due to the fact nobody else wanted to work for Donna--but he was grateful for the extra income.
And it definitely helped provide a distraction from Jake's night activities for Khonshu, as well as Marc's from time to time.
But of course, even though it provided a distraction, it wasn't much of one.
That is... until the day a poofy mop of curls bounced into the gift shop, eagerly looking at the wares within with big sparkling eyes. The child couldn't have been older than four--maybe five--as she happily looked at the myriad of items available.
Contrasting to most of the little girls he's seen come in (which, were admittedly few) she didn't immediately run over to the cheap horse figures with the chariots or even the cat plushies.
She went right for things like the plushie scarabs, the statues...
This of course had Donna proverbially chewing her nails as she watched the unaccompanied minor scamper about the gift shop.
"I'm going back to do inventory," She warned Steven. "If she breaks anything, it's coming out of your pay, Stevie."
Steven ground his teeth when she called him that, and waited for her to walk away before muttering. "What little you do pay me, you bloody old biddy."
Steven fixed his name tag and walked up to the little girl, crouching next to her as her chubby little face scrunched in what appeared to be distaste.
"Hey there, poppet. What's got you upset, eh?" He asked, his big brown eyes meeting hers as she crossed her arms with a huff.
"They don't look right!" She complained.
"Oh? What doesn't look right?" Steven asked patiently, a warm smile on his face.
The child pointed to the small canvases and posters of the various Egyptian gods. Namely the ones of Bastet and Anubis, and in particular of the two, one of the canvases depicting Anubis surrounded by shrieking souls and flames.
He himself had raised a complaint with that depiction, as after his own time in the Egyptian afterlife (alongside Marc, and unbeknownst to them at the time, Jake) he knew the afterlife was not like that. While they hadn't met Anubis himself, they were guided and weighed by Taweret.
But he wholeheartedly agreed that the artwork of Anubis was entirely wrong, and frankly, offensive.
"'Nubis isn't like that." She said, stomping her little foot. "He's nice!"
Steven raised his eyebrows at her, tilting his head as some stray curls fell over his face. "Oh?" He asked. "Then tell me little one, how is Anubis?"
"He's--!" She scoffed, rolling her eyes in the typical fashion a child does when they feel like they're explaining something painfully obvious to an oblivious adult.
"He's a good dog-man." She says to him. "He doesn't mess with skulls n' stuffs! He's nice, he helps people who might get lost when they die."
'That's a hefty subject for a kid.' Marc's voice spoke.
"No kidding." Jake remarked. "Where are her parents?"
Steven meanwhile, was positively thrilled that one so young understood that Anubis, while being the god of death, was not evil. And... naturally this sent him into info-dump mode.
"Why, yes! Anubis is good." He held up a finger as the little girl looked at him, awe on her face that he understood what she was saying and was willing to actually talk about it.
"He guided souls once they left their earthly bodies." He explained, grabbing a small replica of an Egyptian temple front. "Once their hearts were weighed, if they were good, he would help guide them to the afterlife. If they were bad..."
"They got ate by the crocko-lion!" The girl finished with a gasp.
Steven suppressed the urge to laugh at how she described Ammit. Jake and Marc meanwhile, held no such compunction and were laughing their asses off.
"I like this kid." Jake said as his laughter died down.
"Yes! They did. But did you know they also had to be judged? Not just with the scales?" Steven grinned at her as she bounced on her heels, the palms of her hands rubbing on her coveralls as she listened.
"Now that subject is very lengthy...." Steven leaned over on the flats of his shoes and plucked a small book about the Egyptian afterlife and mythos and showed it to the little girl. The cover was emblazoned with raised gold print; with images of sarcophagi, and motifs scattered on the front and back.
"But it's always worth a good read." Steven continued. "Now, if you want to know someone else who sometimes assists those who've passed on?"
The little girl plucked the book out of Steven's arms, nodding, her eyes tracking the way his mouth and hair moved. Not once did she make eye contact, instead settling for staring at other features instead.
Steven could understand, sometimes looking into people's eyes was... oof. It was difficult and frankly sometimes it made him uncomfortable, made his palms itch and the hair on the back of his neck tickle.
He stood up, and walked to another shelf, the little girl trailing behind him, the book looking three sizes too large for her tiny body as her little light up sneakers squeaked on the waxed linoleum.
Steven reached down, then, and grabbed a plaster statuette of a familiar feminine shape sporting a hippo head and kneeled back down, showing it to her.
"This is Taweret." He beamed proudly.
"She's the nice hippo lady." The child peeped, staring at the statue with rapt attention.
"Yes! Yes, she is! Very nice." Steven chuckled. "But she's also the goddess of motherhood and children, did you know? She protects women when they have their babies, and helps them."
The little girl nodded, "Yeah, I read a thingy 'bout her! She's--"
"Victoria! Oh my god." A breathless voice called from the front of the shop.
The moment Steven lifted his gaze, he could feel his heart catch on his throat when he saw you. Even Marc and Jake went quiet as you approached.
You were wearing some faded-out jeans and a t-shirt with a faded band logo that hugged your figure very nicely. You had a backpack slung over your shoulders and the keychains dangling from it tinkled and clacked as you moved, rushing to scoop up your child.
Steven could easily see that Victoria got her looks from you, those gorgeous inquisitive eyes, her nose, hair texture...
Jake had to give him the mental equivalent of a slap to stop his gawking as he stood up awkwardly, wiping the hand not holding the statue on his jeans as he gave you what he hoped was a charming smile, but judging by your wariness, you obviously weren't thrilled at the sight of your daughter talking to a strange man.
Steven was about to speak up, but Victoria did so instead for him, not reading the tenseness in the situation.
"Steven's my friend!" She beamed, holding the book in her pudgy little fingers, showing you. "He knows about 'Gyptian stuff, too!"
Steven blinked, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks as you looked at him, raised eyebrows. It took him a moment of awkward glancing away to realize Victoria knew his name because she read his name tag. He hadn't once said it to her. Hell, he only knew her name because you said it when you ran in!
"Ah... Yes. I work here, in the gift shop. Egyptology is a major... um." He struggled to find a word.
"Hyperfixation?" You sigh, the tension easing from your shoulders as you smile tiredly.
"Oh! Yes. I s'pose!" He said, blinking his big doe eyes at you.
"Yeah, Victoria is... well." You chuckle, propping the young child on your hip with practiced ease. "She's obsessed with the stuff! I swear, the stuff she can shove into her noggin with how much she knows of ancient Egypt, it feels like she was born in the wrong era, I'm telling you!"
Victoria smiled happily and snuggled into you, rubbing her cheek on the soft fabric of your shirt with a content hum, almost like a happy little cat.
You didn't pay any mind to her as she rubbed her face on you, instead conversing with the man in front of you.
"Ah... A little scholar to be, eh?" Steven laughed awkwardly.
"Hah, more like she already is one. With everything she knows, I swear she outpaces me in the IQ department." You sigh fondly, brushing a stray curl from your daughter's face.
Steven's eyes anxiously tracked your movements, how your fingers curled, the way your eyelashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the way your foot tapped on the floor...
"I'm surprised she talked to you. She's normally very introverted." You hum softly, raising those drop dead gorgeous eyes to lock with his before he awkwardly dropped his eyes to your lips whilst you spoke.
"But then again, if you started talking about this stuff with her, it's no surprise. I'm the only person she talks to about it because nobody else understands."
You noticed his Steven was looking anywhere but your eyes, and how he nervously licked at his lips, his fingers wrapped around the statuette in his hands tapping idly.
"Oh! She's a lovely little conversationalist. Rather well-knowledged as well!" Steven replied, looking at Victoria again, who grinned as she once again rubbed her face on your shirt.
"Honestly, she's more learned than half the adults who try to talk to me about Egypt." He huffed out a chuckle.
His eyes dropped to the picture of Anubis that initially offended the child. "We got into a little debate about how inaccurate those pieces of Anubis are."
"Oh, don't get her started on those inaccurate artworks... She despises them!" You laugh softly.
"Oh, I fully understand why! It's so offensive!" Steven gasped. "Especially to a culture! Anubis is not an evil god by any means!"
"Oh yeah, believe me... we watched a movie the other day and she had a meltdown because they made Anubis the bad guy. She was so distraught it took thirty minutes to calm her down." You smile with infinite patience at your little girl.
"Oh, poor little dear! But I can totally understand that." Steven smiled, finally locking eyes with you as he reached some level of professional comfort with you.
"Mommy, can I get em?" Victoria peeped, interrupting you before you could get another word out.
"Hm?" You hummed at her, raising an eyebrow.
"The book and hippo lady!" She replied, holding up the book.
"Hippo Lady?"
"Yeah!" She said, sounding a little exasperated, pointing to the statue Steven clutched in his hands. "Her! Tawar!"
"Taweret." Steven chuckled softly at her mispronunciation.
"Tawww--" Victoria frowned as she tried to get the word out. "Tawweret."
"Close 'nough. I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Steven smiled warmly, holding up the statuette.
"All right, all right." You laughed, following Steven to the counter so you could check out, having another nice chat about what he and Victoria discussed. He even tossed in a little keychain that held a preserved scarab beetle in epoxy, much to Victoria's delight!
What you didn't know as you left the shop, was how positively smitten he was with you already.
That was your first meeting with Steven Grant.
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A few weeks crawled by, and every other day you were at the museum, letting Victoria lead you by the hand as she animatedly discussed what every object or picture meant, and you struggled to keep up, making mental (and a few digital) notes on what she was talking about. Of course, she insisted that after every tour, you stopped to say hi to her new "bestest friend" Steven.
You were thrilled that you found someone who operated on the same wavelength as your daughter, knowing that it was hard for her to make connections with other children, let alone adults. But Steven and Victoria took to each other like ducks to water.
And hey, he seemed harmless enough. Cute, too, beneath that mop of curls. You even started researching more just to be able to tag into the conversations between your daughter and her unlikely friend.
Today, you were at the local grocer and Victoria decided that she wanted to walk with you instead of riding in the trolley on her tablet like she normally did. You were happy, but ensured she kept her noise cancelling headphones over her tiny ears to make sure she stayed comfortable.
You had picked up a pack of steaks to examine the cuts when Victoria slipped your hand free of hers and darted off, squealing, "Steven!"
You almost dropped the steaks when Victoria darted down the aisle and wrapped her arms around the legs of the man she ran towards.
One minute Marc was looking at a box of matzahs, the next, he had a child clinging to his legs.
His whole body froze as he looked down, immediately going rigid as the little girl looked up at him, babbling something he didn't quite understand because of how quickly she was speaking.
He did make out the name "Steven".
"Uh--" He said awkwardly.
"I'm so sorry!" You say, hastily bringing the trolley up to the two. "She just got excited to see you, and..."
Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. He looked like Steven Grant, but he didn't feel like Steven Grant. His normally messy curls were combed back neatly, his flannel hanging open with the sleeves rolled up and T-shirt untucked from his pants. His big brown eyes were wide, looking at you with a face that simply pleaded "Help me".
"Uh..."
"I'm... Marc." He said in an unmistakably American accent.
"Oh. Oh!" You lean down and scoop up Victoria, hastily plopping her in the trolley, willing yourself to ignore her little wobbling lip as you messily search up her favorite video to watch on her tablet to prevent the simmering meltdown you could see just beneath her surface.
"I'm... I'm sorry. You just look like someone we know from the museum, and..." You sigh, rubbing your hands together as you cringed.
"Steven, yeah..." Marc said, giving a stiff smile in return as he dropped the box of what looked like crackers into his basket looped over his elbow.
"You..."
'Play it cool, Marc...' Jake's voice softly warned.
"We're, uh, brothers. Triplets. All identical." He spat out with haste.
"Oh! Well... That's... That explains the looks, huh." You smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension. His explanation didn't sit well with you for some reason, as to why he suddenly blurted it all out. But you chocked it up to him trying to explain to avoid upsetting Victoria.
"But, yeah. Um... Your brother, Steven? He and Victoria are like, best friends now. She looks forward to seeing him whenever we're at the museum." You chuckle softly.
Marc's eyes soften as he smiles, giving Victoria a gentle look. "Yeah, uh, Steven's told me about her. She's a smart kid, huh?"
"Oh, yeah. A real genius." You smile at her as she starts tapping away at her tablet, selecting one of her drawing apps and beginning to scribble.
"Sometimes I can't keep up with her."
"Hey, that's good. She'll go places." Marc replied.
Your smile falters a bit. "Yeah, if people will give her a chance..." You mutter.
Marc was about to ask what she meant, but he kept his mouth shut, watching as Victoria was engrossed with her tablet, her little feet wiggling and tapping on the sides of the trolley as she moved her mouth silently, mouthing words to herself.
"She's... Eh." You rub the back of your neck. "She normally doesn't come to the store with me. She says she can hear the lights buzzing and it upsets her, which is why she has to wear her headphones. I mean I can't hear the lights or anything, but all I need to know is that she can..."
"Yeah, Steven is the same way sometimes. It makes him twitch so he has to wear headphones when we go shopping..." Marc said, frowning.
"Yeah. That's something I'm kind of amazed about. Victoria doesn't really have any friends outside of well, me... and your brother? Steven and her are just... man, they're like two peas in a pod!"
Marc stays quiet as you smile fondly at your child, and he notes the relief in your expression as you recount that your child was able to finally connect with someone. It warmed his heart to know that Steven was able to socialize with someone who shared the same mannerisms, even if she was just a kid.
His eyes flicked down to your hands as you put your hands on your hips, and noted the lack of wedding ring and a ring tan line.
'Focus, cabrón.' Jake snickered.
"She's autistic. It was a pain to get her diagnosed, but we managed. I could tell she was different. Namely how she would act with fabrics." You sigh.
Now that grabbed both Marc and Jake's attention. If Steven were aware and co-fronting, he was sure he would be rapt as well. Steven explained the fabric thing to hime a few times, but being in the same body it was still hard at times to understand that Marc or Jake could feel one thing but Steven could feel another.
"Uh... Fabrics? You'll have to forgive me, but..."
"Oh! It's a sensory thing." You explain, rolling your hand. "With her, it's fleece, or satin-like textures. They irritate her and make her fussy. As a baby I never understood why she flipped out when I would put her little socks on her until the doctor explained it when she was older. But for some people it's cotton, or microfiber... The way Victoria describes it is that it's, uh..."
"Scratchy." Marc murmurs.
"Exactly!" You snap your fingers.
"Yeah, Steven is the same way. Though he's not like that with satin, he usually prefers cotton--the super soft kind? Or silk." Marc nods, shoving one hand in his pocket.
"Yeah... It's thankfully easy to shop for her, she prefers cotton and soft microfiber. It's why she rubs her cheek on my shirts or pants. Some people mistake it for being affectionate--and don't get me wrong sometimes it is--but usually it's a grounding thing." You sigh softly. "It helps her calm down."
"Ah... Sounds hard. What about her dad? He know how to handle it?" Marc asked curiously.
He immediately felt bad when he saw how your expression fell, and you glared at the ground.
"He skipped out on us while I was pregnant. I caught him in our bed with someone I thought was my best friend the day I found out she was a girl." You spit, angry and full of venom.
Marc cringed. "God, your best friend? In your bed? That's a whole extra level of degeneracy..."
"I know! Ugh! I swear, if he wasn't stronger than me I would have stabbed him that day!" You groan.
Marc rocks his head back in shock at the admission. "You were gonna stab him?"
"When you're five months pregnant, hormonal, tired, and sore and walk in on your fiancee doing the deed in your own bed? Yeah, emotions get high." You run a hand through your hair, smirking as you looked back at him.
"Grabbed the knife right outta the block and lunged at him. Chased em both half naked out of my flat."
'Shit, I'd be in love. That sounds sexy as hell.' Marc could just imagine the grin that would be spread across Jake's face at that.
Marc laughed, unable to contain himself, both at the retelling of your story and Jake's remark.
'You got problems, Jake.' Marc shot back mentally.
'Pot, meet kettle...'
'Touché...'
"So it's safe to say, he's out of the picture, huh?" Marc says, his laughter dying down into a soft chuckle.
"Oh yeah. Had his parental rights severed, and kicked his sorry.... well. I tossed him out and told him that my "best friend" could deal with him and his lazy antics, considering I pay for the flat."
"Yikes. Sounds like a real dirt bag."
"Oh yeah, he was. I have no idea what I saw in him, to be honest... And knowing that Victoria isn't "normal" like other kids, I feel like he would treat her badly, or... hurt her." You say, shaking your head.
"Hey, if he shows up and does that just call me." Marc grunted. "I hate it when people do that crap to kids. I'll knock his teeth down his throat."
The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the weight of them almost made them feel oppressive as glimpses of his abusive childhood shone through. The memories of his mother swinging her arm down, the crack of the leather belt, the red, bloody welts in his skin...
'Ay, hermano. Come back, don't think about that.' Jake's voice said gently, urging that door in his mind shut. 'That's not your life, anymore.'
Marc blinked and looked back up at you, his eyes locking with yours. And the concern on your face... he felt so undeserving of it. He wasn't sure why, but...
"Ah... I mean... Let's just say I have experience with that sort of thing. So I'm..." He struggled.
"No, no, I get it. My dad was a piece of shhh..." You cringed as the word almost slipped from you, casting a short glance to Victoria, making sure she couldn't hear you. "Er. He was bad. So yeah, I totally get you."
"Oh... Sorry, people get weirded out when I..." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Disassociate." You finish for him. "I used to do the same thing when it came to my dad. It gets easier once you're free of it, I promise."
The soft, sweet smile you give him was strong enough to make his heart jump into his throat.
'Wow...'
'Ask. Her. Out. Steven won't do it, so you do it!' Jake urged him.
Marc choked suddenly, coughing awkwardly to clear his throat at Jake's further commentary.
"You okay?" You ask him.
"Y-Yeah, I just... Uh..." He cringed again. "It's... allergies! I've been dealing with them since we dusted the flat, and... Yep. Allergies."
You chuckle softly at him as Victoria tugs on your sleeve and whispers in your ear.
"Oop, mama duty calls. It was nice meeting you, Marc." You grin, giving him a short handshake.
"Yeah... You too." Marc replied as you walked off, giving Victoria a wave as she peeked over your shoulder as you push the trolley away.
'Allergies? Smooth, Marc. Really smooth. How the hell did you ever bag Layla with romantic skills like that?' Jake sighed sarcastically.
'I swear Layla probably only married you for your dick, man. You're so BAD at romance.'
Marc knew Layla did love him, at one point but with all the drama of being Moon Knight, it quickly snuffed that relationship... They were still close of course, but they'd never open up to another intimate relationship again. Which was fine, none of them minded particularly.
Especially not now. Not now that there's a cute single mom with and adorably--scarily--smart little girl on her hip to occupy those thoughts.
And that... was your first time meeting Marc Spector.
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Now, meeting Jake was different. Completely different. You technically "met" Jake weeks after you met Marc and built a rapport with him.
One night, Jake was sitting in the window, munching on some saltines he'd spread with sunflower butter as he read some old knitting patterns in a book he'd picked up at a resale shop.
He thought he could knit something for both you and Victoria and have Steven give it to you, it would be a good way to start actually flirting, to hopefully open up that door for all of you.
But of course... well. He knew Steven was way too shy to ask you out on a date, and Marc was too chicken shit and awkward about the subject to bring it up himself.
And so, it fell upon Jake Lockley to find a way to get closer to you, two. He understood that many single mothers found it tricky to date, especially with a child like Victoria. It would require immense levels of trust to get past those walls you would have put up to protect both you and Victoria, especially after you'd told Marc about Victoria's biological father fucking your best friend the day of your ultrasound.
He could just imagine how your poor face fell when you closed your front door, hearing the ridiculously high-pitched, false moans and the squeaking of the mattress as that miserable excuse of a man was having his way with your supposed "best friend"...
All while your hands would have clutched the pictures of your unborn baby girl, tears bubbling up in your eyes as you screamed at them while they scrambled to cover their shame.
And then.... as you told Marc, you would have grabbed the knife and the rest was history; bidding goodbye to that cheating bastard and woman you once trusted.
You were strong, loving and oh so patient with your daughter and her needs. Jake found your whole being attractive, honestly. He hadn't seen you angry, but he just knew you were a badass if you wanted to be.
He chuckled as he picked up his knitting needles, and began to loop the soft, thick yarn through each line. He was sure to pick yarn that wouldn't upset Victoria and her sensory issues, so he picked the softest yarn he possibly could, selecting enough to make the both of you matching jumpers.
Victoria's would be a little big, to allow for comfort and her to grow into it as she wore it. He could just imagine how adorable she'd look with the sleeves hanging over her little hands, squirming and giggling as you two played together--
Jake's hands stopped knitting.
Shit. He had it down bad for you, too.
When he looked down, that's when he noticed the green laser pointed right at him...
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You were there, simply cleaning up the mess from dinner as Victoria happily colored on her dry erase board, drawing the shapes and hieroglyphs she saw in the book Steven selected for her.
She had been quiet and engrossed in her little art project for so long that you jumped and almost dropped a plate on the floor when she squealed loudly.
"Mommy, it's Steven! Or Mister Marc?"
"Huh? What?" You looked around your flat, for some reason your brain told you to look inside instead our our the window where her little finger tapped the glass excitedly.
"No, there!" She insisted. "Over there!"
You walk over to her and lean down, looking out the window.
And sure enough, across the street, in the building across from yours, an apartment had the curtains open with the lights on.
In one of the windows, at a desk, sat a man. The streets were close enough together that you could make out some details. The shadow of a mustache being the first thing you zeroed in on, and then the immaculately slicked-back hair.
He looked like he was... knitting? This man, who looked like Steven and Marc. Marc and Steven both mentioned on different occasions that they had a brother named Jake, maybe this was him?
And wow! So close by, too!
Victoria waved her arms, trying to get her attention, but the man was so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice her try to get his attention. When her little disappointed sniffles could be heard, you snap your fingers.
"I got an idea!" You say, dashing to the end table by the front door and rummaging through the various keychains you'd accumulated. It was a guilty habit of yours, you found.
But then you pluck up the laser toy and run back to the window. It takes shaking it once or twice for the green light to illuminate, but when it does, you shine it directly through the window and at the man's chest.
Then, he looked up.
You break out into a happy grin when he spots the two of you, and Victoria giggles with unabated glee as she waves some more, her whole tiny body moving with every shake of her overly excited hand.
You see the man smile back and he waves at the both of you.
"Hey, baby, why don't we use your board to say hi?" You suggest, rubbing her shoulders.
"Yeah!" She giggles, grabbing the board and erasing her painstakingly re-created drawings from the book, and messily scrawled the word:
Hi :)
The man laughed and looked around until he grabbed a notebook, scribbled something with a marker, and held it up for you two to see.
Hello
You chuckle as Victoria hands you the board, knowing that your writing is neater than hers is, and with how excited she is, she was bound to mess up.
You quickly and clearly write something down and turn the board to face the window.
Steven or Marc?
He smiled at you and scribbled back.
Jake
Marc n Steven told us about you. Hi!
They've told me a lot about you, too.
"That's Jake, honey. Remember what I said? How Steven and Mister Marc look alike? He's the same way." You explain to Victoria.
"Oh." She sighs. Poor little thing seemed dejected that once again, she misidentified someone as her "bestest friend".
You lift your eyes as Jake showed what he put on the notepad next. It was a badly drawn cat with a happy face on it.
You can't help but laugh and grin, nudging Victoria to look at what he drew for her.
"It's a kitty!" She gasps, snatching the board from your hands to draw pictures for him.
You spent much of the evening that night with Victoria and Jake drawing pictures back and forth, writing messages until he ran out of paper.
That's when you put down your phone number and told him to text, to make it easier on Victoria.
Victoria, upon realizing this, dropped her board and snatched your phone, starting a video call with Jake and chattering his ear off. He seemed to take it in stride, engaging with her. Not on the same level as Steven, but something about how he handled it gave you the impression he had experience with kids, or even worked with kids.
He didn't talk down or dumb anything down for her, he spoke to her calmly and clearly like he would anyone else, and the fact he was so sweet was endearing to you.
He was even teaching her little words in Spanish. For some reason, she liked to repeat the word "cat" because she liked how it sounded, and it was "funny".
That was how you met Jake Lockley.
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It was now half a year since you'd indirectly met all three "brothers" and quickly, the pressure was beginning to mount on them to reveal the truth to you as their crush developed more and more into full infatuation with you and your darling girl.
But they still hadn't asked you out, yet. They'd come close a few times, but it was never when Jake was in control so Marc and Steven backed down at the last possible moment. Every time Jake was in control it wasn't a "good moment" for them to propose a date with you. But now?
It was late in the year, the harvest festival being over with and the holidays around the corner with Christmas, as usual, dominating all others. Snow and ice encased everything. It came early this year, and Victoria couldn't be more thrilled. (She could build snowmen with her friends, Steven, Mister Marc and Mister Jake!)
You and Jake would text, and he gave in and told you that he, Marc, and Steven all actually lived together and he would "let" Steven or Marc use his phone so he could video chat with Victoria and you.
You didn't know the boys all shared the same phone regardless.
It was nice having a social life again, even if it was small. Outside work and ensuring a comfortable upbringing for your little girl, you'd forgotten how nice it was to have friends. Even if those friends consisted of three identical, quirky brothers who lived in the flat across the way.
The day was coming soon, for when they would have to confess to you about the true nature of their identities. And the three unanimously agreed that they would tell you about Moon Knight.
For your safety, and Victoria's. They didn't want you to agree to date them (if you ever would) only to find out they snuck out in the dead of night to do the bidding of some creepy ancient bird god who could frankly do with a wardrobe update...
They just didn't anticipate that day to be today. Of course, Steven would rather have broken the news to you over a nice dinner in the corner booth of a quiet restaurant. Or even on a nice walk through the park...
But no. No, it had to come out when you decided to pull out your phone and go through your texts or the day as Victoria sat in Steven's lap on the couch of your living room.
Jake had sent a meme earlier in the day, of a little cat wearing a sombrero and you chuckled. You sent a meme back in reply, of a snail holding some maracas on some drawn-on arms.
That's when Steven twitched when the phone in his back pocket vibrated and chimed with a silly little ringtone.
You blinked at him as he fished it out of his pocket, careful not to knock Victoria off balance as he checked it. He awkwardly cleared his throat and gave you a strained smile as he set it on the coffee table in front of you.
"You okay..." You say, eyeing the very familiar phone. They could just have the same model and case...
"Oh, yes, just an email alert, luv. Don't worry 'bout it!" Steven chirped, quickly shifting his attention back to Victoria as she practiced her reading from the book in her hands.
You squint at him suspiciously. Your finger hovered over the send button when you selected another silly little image...
But you decided to call instead.
That's when a song began to chime. One you recognized very well as Steven's favorite song...
♫"Lonely is a man,
Without looove~"♫
'God damn it, Steven! You forgot to put it on silent again!' Marc's panicked voice shouted inside their headspace.
'Ay, hermanito, not now!' Jake groaned.
Steven began to sweat profusely as Victoria handed the phone innocently to him, urging him to answer it, not making the correlation with the song, or your phone number...
Steven shakily held the phone to his ear and answered.
"H-Hello..."
"Steven." You deadpan, raising an eyebrow and tapping your finger on your arm.
'Shit shit shit shit.' Marc hissed.
'Busted.' Jake almost sang.
You look at Victoria, hesitant to interrupt her time with Steven, but you wanted answers. Why is it that none of the men ever agreed to all meet up in person to hang out? Why did you only ever see one at a time? Yes, work was a convenient excuse, but every single day?
And then there's the phone!
Yeah, you weren't letting Steven wiggle free from this talk, even as Victoria pouted and trudged back into her room to play with her toys.
You almost feel like a cop in a bad movie, the way you lean back with your arms crossed, almost like you were an interrogator in a police precinct.
Would this make you both the bad and good cop?
You felt so bad, knowing that this kind of behavior would only freak Steven out, so you relaxed your jaw and posture, leaning away from him and giving him breathing room as his sweaty hands began to pat nervously in the memorized tune of that specific song that was just playing.
"I'm not blind, and I'm not dumb... So start from the beginning." You sigh. "I don't want anything to come out and upset Victoria, but I have to know who I'm letting around my little girl."
Steven licked at his slightly chapped lips, taking his bottom lip between his teeth briefly.
"Okay..." He peeped.
'Just take it slow, Steven.' Marc urged him gently.
'I can take control, if you want.' Jake offered.
"No, that's too much right now." Steven muttered aloud, without thinking.
You tipped your head to the side. "What's too much?"
Steven jumped and covered his mouth, his big doe eyes wide as can be, like he's a little boy who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.
He despised awkward situations like this. He could never tell what to say to keep someone happy and to avoid them getting angry with him...
"Steven, I'm not mad. I'm honestly confused. Please... Just... Tell me everything, okay? I just wanna know some things." You say, leaning forward to put your hand on his knee, your ever so patient eyes sweet and understanding.
Yeah, those eyes were his undoing.
"Do you know what Dissociative Identity Disorder is?"
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Whatever you had originally expected to hear from Steven, finding out that he, Marc and Jake all shared the same body was a lot to absorb. Especially after Steven blurted out about their superhero alter ego that apparently did bidding for an Egyptian god?
Steven expected you to be mad, braced himself for it, but instead, he and his two headmates were knocked entirely off center when you made the remark that if Khonshu ever got to be too much for the boys, they should lock him in a room with Victoria and her never-ending questions.
That would shut him up for a little while, surely.
Another thing you weren't expecting was the date proposal from Steven (and of course Marc and Jake).
You hesitated, at first... But...
They were so kind and sweet. They already have shown so much care for you and your daughter... And you were honestly happy to realize that you weren't crushing on different guys, that your feelings were no longer awkward and conflicted.
Or wait, were you crushing on different men? Yes they were completely different identities, but they shared a body, and... oh, this was gonna take time to learn more about.
Your first date was for later that week. Steven informed you it would be Jake, taking you out, as he felt like a "bloody awkward fool" and was afraid of messing it up, and Marc was just as bad at those social situations.
But you agreed, and when the date rolled around, you and Victoria were bundled up, all ready to go to the charming little Italian restaurant somewhere in town where apparently Jake was friendly with the employees there.
Victoria skipped in the snow, struggling to match her pace with yours, making sure her footsteps were measured so her prints mirrored yours exactly as she walked on her little tippy toes.
As you approached where Jake had his car parked, he smiled, his mustache quirking up as he scooped Victoria in his large gloved hands, laughing when she dragged her fingers over his hairy upper lip, comparing the stache to a caterpillar.
You stifled a snort and covered your mouth as you watched Jake buckle Victoria into a booster seat in the back of his car.
"Where did you..." You blinked. You fully intended to run back to your flat and grab the booster seat you owned, but you were surprised to see Jake already had one. A rather expensive-looking one, at that.
"Ay, cariño, you didn't think I'd let the little chiquita ride unprotected, did you?" He smirked at you, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.
"But, I have one. You didn't have to..."
"Hey, if it makes it easier, I'll be happy to foot the bill." Jake hummed, leaning in to check Victoria's buckles as she played on her tablet, snow-caked shoes kicking lazily as she did.
Normally, Jake was insane about his car. He always made sure his fares cleaned their damn feet off before getting inside. But for you two he willingly made the exception.
"Now, c'mon mamacita." Jake grinned at you once more as he enabled the child lock and closed the door on Victoria's side. "We got lunch to get to, right?"
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You couldn't remember the last time you were on a date. Actually wait, you could. The night you got pregnant. One of the only times Victoria's sperm donor was ever romantic with you, and he proposed the next morning after.
Yeah, you knew how that story ended.
But now it looked like a whole new book was being written right in front of you, as cliché as it all sounded.
Jake had treated you both well, engaging happily and drawing with Victoria on the activity mat the restaurant provided as you sipped your glass of red wine, watching; your heart was fluttering in your chest as you watched how happy she was interacting with them.
After a while, he went back out to his car and returned with a sparkly red gift bag for the two of you and you immediately felt your heart lurch up from your chest and into your throat.
He knitted the two of you matching jumpers. A mama cat and her kitten, of course, he managed to do it in an Egyptian style, much to Victoria's glee as she ripped off her regular jumper in favor of the one Jake made, immediately rubbing her face on the sleeve with a happy giggle.
You couldn't help but smile warmly as Jake helped her pop her head through the top, and you decided to slip yours on, yourself.
God, it was almost surreal how Hallmark it all seemed. Not one, but three men interested in you, a lonely single mother. All three men who adored your daughter and treated you both with respect. All three men, who shared the same body and nighttime secret.
And you found yourself falling just as hard, and somewhere in the back of your mind wondered if--if--you had met them first... would they have been Victoria's father(s)? Would they have rejoiced in your pregnancy? Gone to your appointments, held your hand in the delivery room? Would they have helped the doctors weigh and print Victoria for the very first time?
Your mind was knocked out of the what-ifs when your phone jingled, catching Jake's attention.
"Oh, it's Victoria's pediatrician. I have to take this." You sigh sadly, not wanting to step away from the cozy atmosphere in your booth.
Jake smiled at you and winked, "Go ahead and take it. I got her handled."
You smiled back, hoping the flush to your face wasn't as obvious as you feared as you got up and answered the call.
Jake continued to play and draw with Victoria, letting her explain how some of her learning games worked, what apps were her favorite, and who her favorite cartoon characters were.
Honestly, if anyone thought Steven was great with Victoria thanks to their same autistic traits? Jake was good simply because he was a natural with kids. Marc was, too, but he was a bit stiff and nervous. He needed to be eased into it just a bit more.
"Hey.... Psst. Mister Jake." Victoria whispered to him, blinking her big, bright, gorgeous eyes up at him.
"Yeah? What is it, gatita?" Jake hummed at her, grinning.
She waved her hand, urging him closer as she whispered conspiratorially, cupping her hand over his ear, "Look where Mommy's standing."
Jake lifts his gaze to find you among the crowd of people, where you stood on your phone, talking to the doctor about Victoria's upcoming appointment. He tracked where Victoria was pointing, and that's when he saw it: the mistletoe.
He knew immediately what Victoria was hinting at.
"That means you gotta kiss my Mommy." She whispered to him again.
"Oh, I do, huh?" Jake teased, poking her in the side. "And what if I don't?"
"Then Imma make you!" She squeaked and giggled.
"Oh, dear, then in that case I definitely have to do it, eh?" He chuckled.
"C'mon." Jake said, scooping Victoria up and holding her on his hip. "Let's go give another present to your wonderful mamá."
As they got closer to you, he caught the tail-end of your conversation.
"...yeah. Next Wednesday at 3pm. See you, then, Doctor Wilson. ...Of course! Happy holidays." You say cheerily, ending the call.
When you turned around, you saw Jake holding Victoria against him as he walked closer to you.
The sight really shouldn't have taken your breath away the way that it did...
But if you thought your breath was taken before? It was entirely robbed from you as Jake leaned in, wrapping an arm around your waist as he tipped his head down to kiss you, his mustache tickling your nose and upper lip.
You were so taken aback that you didn't hear the whooping and laughing from the workers of the restaurant as the scene unfolded in front of them, congratulating Jake.
Victoria squirmed and squealed and laughed and laughed, rubbing her face on Jake's leather jacket as your lips finally parted and your jaw dropped.
"What's the matter, mamacita? Cat got your tongue?"
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God, dating those men was the best decision you ever made. Even with them being Moon Knight.
They were kind enough to always say goodnight to Victoria before they went about their business, giving you a soft kiss before whichever one was in control of the body departed.
You had only been dating a short while, it was now entering February and you were all spending more and more time together. Marc, Jake, and Steven had all spent the night once or twice in their own time.
Nothing sexual happened, but it was so nice to fall asleep with someone wrapping their arms around you. It was even better to wake up and see Victoria snuggled onto his chest, his arms caged around her protectively, flexing when she made any movements as his unconscious body ensured she wouldn't roll off of him and--god forbid--onto the floor.
It was a few days before Valentine's, and Marc had spent the day with you and Victoria. He had gotten much more comfortable around her, falling into a natural and gentle routine unique to them. Just like she had with Steven, and Jake. And above all, they handled her autism well.
Steven was exceptionally good at helping distract her during her meltdowns, whereas Jake could cradle her, singing little songs in Spanish as he rubbed her back. Marc would start by talking to her in a low, gentle tone, urging her to just breathe, and talk, explaining what was upsetting her and what would work best to help her calm down from it.
But right now, Victoria was in the midst of a battle against sleep.
"Don' wanna sleep." Victoria sniffled into Marc's jumper.
"I know, babydoll, but you'll feel loads better once you do, mkay?" He murmured quietly to her as he padded, barefoot into Victoria's almost obnoxiously canary-yellow bedroom.
"I can make some apple pancakes for you in the morning, hm? How's that sound?"
He dodged the minefield of toys scattered about and chuckled softly at the shelf where her little ancient Egypt memorabilia sat meticulously organized alongside her books and drawings on the subject. A half-finished paper sarcophagus lay on the desk in the corner, a project Steven had started with her two days ago that they intended to finish together.
Marc laid her down and she nodded, rubbing her eye. "Okay..." She mumbled in agreement.
Marc picked up the plushy scarab that Steven bought from the gift shop and handed it to her, tucking her in all nice and warm.
"There you go." He said softly to her, kneeling next to the bed. "Snug as a bug in... well. Blankets, right now, huh?"
He grinned when Victoria giggled groggily at his pun, squeezing the beetle plush she named "Digger" and snuggled under the blankets, her feather lashes brushed her cheeks as she began to drift off.
"See you in the morning, babydoll." Marc said softly, giving her a kiss to her forehead before standing.
His finger had just flipped the switch to turn off the lights in her room, so only the salt lamp dimly illuminated her bedside, when he heard her peep as she rolled over.
"G'night daddy."
He felt like his heart stopped beating as he shakily closed the door, dragging his suddenly very heavy feet through your flat as he made his way to your couch, the weight of that word landing on his shoulders.
He felt like Atlas, carrying the world on his back as he dropped down onto the chocolate brown cushions.
You walk over, having finished dishes from dinner, wiping your hands on a tea towel. Upon seeing his shell-shocked expression, you sit next to him in concern as he covered his face with his hands, his arms shaking and skin pale.
"Marc, sweetie, what's wrong?"
"I..." He said, his voice breaking.
You lean in, reaching out to brush a hand through his mop of curls, letting him take his time. Maybe Steven or Jake was trying to front? You've seen how taxing it could be on them when it happened so suddenly. One time Steven had seized control in the kitchen from Jake and he fell and cracked his head open on the counter! Poor Victoria cried when she saw how much he was bleeding, scared that he was dying.
It took a lot of hugs and kisses to convince her otherwise...
"She... God. Fuck." Marc swore softly, sniffing. "She--she called me daddy."
Your jaw dropped and you gawked at him. Was Victoria already so attached to him? To them? But then again, she's never had a father figure, before, either, and suddenly having not one, but technically three men in her life doing all the things a dad should do? You can understand why she would--hell, why you would...
He dropped his arms and you could see the beginnings of tears clump in his beautiful eyelashes, heavy weights of emotion settling deep in his chest.
He looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away. God, he didn't deserve all of this. He didn't deserve this... this domesticity. Guys like him just didn't get to have a life like that. Not with everything he's had to do as a soldier, a mercenary... in Khonshu's name.
He didn't deserve such a beautiful woman, or the idolized gaze of her sweet and innocent baby girl.
'You're too hard on yourself, Marc.' Steven said to him in their headspace.
'Yeah, hermano...' Jake murmured.
"Marc, honey..." You say, leaning in and adjusting your position, so your head lay on his chest. You spread your hand over his heart, feeling how it hammered in the muscle of his chest.
"I just... What the hell did I do to get this?" He asked softly, bringing his arms around you to bury his nose in your hair.
"Well, I think it all started the day a certain little girl wiggled free of me and ran into a gift shop..."
Marc chuckled, squeezing you tight.
"Would you want us to?" He whispered. "Would you want us to stay? Would you be okay with that? I know it's soon, and--and I'm not saying we move in or anything like that, but..."
"I think it would crush Victoria if I ever shoo'd you boys away, honey." You assured him, tipping your head up to give him a sweet kiss.
You feel the tension slowly bleed from his body and his expression softens into a heartbreakingly sweet smile, his dark eyes sparkling with a warmth that you haven't seen before as your lips parted.
"Then we'll stay. As long as you both will put up with us." He said to you, his voice so quiet you almost couldn't catch his words.
"How do Steven and Jake feel about her calling you daddy?" You smile slyly.
Marc grins and drops his head back with a laugh, listening to the bickering of his headmates as his anxiety ebbed away.
"Oh... They're arguing over who Vicky is gonna call daddy next."
"We need to think of nicknames for you guys so she doesn't confuse you." You laughed with him.
Your laughter was cut short when you heard Victoria's door click open, and out she waddled, blanket clutched in one arm, Digger firmly squeezed into the crook of her elbow and her thumb was in her mouth. She only sucked her thumb when she was frightened, or severely anxious.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Marc asked, shooting to his feet even before you could, at her side in a split second.
You joined him and put your hands on her shoulders, looking into her drowsy and not-entirely-awake eyes. "Did you have a bad dream?"
She shook her head, mumbling something around her thumb.
"What is it, kiddo?" Marc inquired next.
She pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a pop.
"There's a bird-man in my room."
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suugarbabe · 7 months
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just friends | m.r. x reader
prompt: Can you do a Mattheo riddle friends to lovers. And Draco asks you out then Mattheo gets jealous and him and Draco have a fight and you help clean all his cuts and stuff? If you can’t that’s fine though ❤️
warnings: mentions of blood, angst, fluff
word count: ~1.5k
a/n: i forgot about the requests i had saved in my google doc so here's one sorry guys.
People thought you and Mattheo being best friends was odd at first. Upon first meeting, people assumed you were quiet and sweet and slow to anger. However when a girl tried to push you around in second year and you landed a hard right hook to her nose, people stopped questioning your friendship and started questioning when you guys were going to start dating. 
You both often played those comments off, saying you were best friends nothing more. Not knowing the other was desperate for the change in relationship status. 
So when Draco asked you to Hogsmead one weekend, you didn’t really have a reason to say no. However when Mattheo found out, he had a less than pleasant response. 
“Are you seriously going with him?” Mattheo was ripping pieces of parchment and throwing them in the fire. You laid across the couch, handing him a new sheet of parchment when he’d finish the other. 
“It’s just Hogsmead, Teo. I’m not betrothed to your cousin,” you tried to sound nonchalant about the whole thing. Mattheo was grumbling in response. 
You sat up on your elbows, “What was that?” Mattheo shook his head, standing up from the floor, “Nothing. Have fun with cousin, tomorrow. Can’t wait to hear all about it.” 
He walked off towards the hall, sounding very much like a stomping toddler and not like he was excited to hear about how your date went tomorrow afternoon. You huffed out an annoyed sigh, deciding to head back to your own dorm. Pansy was sitting atop her bed when you came in and slammed the door behind you. 
“Care to tell the doctor why you’re so peeved?” Pansy sat up at the head of her bed. You groaned, flopping yourself face first on her mattress, mumbling into her duvet. “Come again, dear?” 
You rolled over, staring at the top of her four poster, “Mattheo is being an arsehole.” Pansy couldn’t help but snort, “Tell me something new, Y/n/n.” You groaned again, “He’s never an arse to me, like never ever. Not like he just was. I don’t know what his problem is. Shouldn’t he be happy that my date is at least with someone he knows and likes? I could’ve had a date with Diggory, or even,” you faked a gag, “Potter.” 
Pansy couldn’t help the laugh that emitted from her throat, “I think you’re reaction alone let’s everyone know that the latter would never be an option.” You smiled weakly at her, “Yeah, suppose you’re right.” You sat up now, tucking your feet under you, “I just don’t get what the big deal is. He’s adamant that he and I are just friends, so why get mad when I finally get a date?” 
Pansy looked at you dumbfounded, “Y/n/n, please tell me you’re not that daft.” Your jaw dropped slightly, “What do you mean?” It was Pansy’s turn to groan, “If you can’t see it, I’m not telling you. You’re just going to have to pay more attention.”
You sighed out in annoyance, getting up from her bed and changing into your pyjamas. Pansy dropped the subject, as did you. You laid your head down on your pillow, doing your best to get Mattheo’s judgemental tone out of your mind, which only caused your dreams to be filled with him. 
Your trip to Hogsmead was actually really nice. Draco was a complete gentleman, helping you into and out of the carriage, holding the doors open for you, buying your favorite candies, even buying your lunch and butter beer. 
On the ride back in the carriage, you thanked Draco for a lovely afternoon. He smiled shyly, “Of course, Y/n/n. A beautiful girl like you deserves to be given all the attention and doted on dutifully.” You smiled bashfully, “You’re very kind, Draco.” Draco reached for your hand as you stepped out of the carriage at the doors of the castle. 
You took it, thanking him again as you stepped back to the ground. You opened your mouth to say something when suddenly Draco was ripped from in front of you. You took a shocked step back, trying to focus on the two bodies rolling around on the ground when you noticed it was Mattheo that attacked him. 
Draco and Mattheo were landing blows back and forth. While Mattheo was a few months younger, he was larger, muscular wise than Draco. You worried a bit for Draco, but when he landed an elbow in Mattheo’s ribs, causing him to roll off Draco, the blonde boy stood, walking toward you. 
You opened your mouth to apologize, but Draco cut you off, wiping the blood from his bottom lip, “You two need to sort whatever the fuck you are.” He turned back to look at Mattheo getting up from the ground before turning back to you, “I suggest you take him back to your dorm and clean him up. Have a fucking conversation.” 
You looked back toward Mattheo, who was now looking at the ground. You walked over, grabbing his wrist, “C’mon, Teo. I’ll clean you up.” The walk back to your dorm was silent sans for the sound of both your boots on the corridor floors. When you got to your dorm you led him to the edge of your bed, motioning for him to sit while you got some supplies from the ensuite bathroom. 
When you came back, you opened the first aid kit, grabbing some gauze and soaking it in healing potion. You dabbed the gauze on the bridge of his nose where a fresh cut was now open. Mattheo winced away, “Fucking Salazars dick, Y/n/n, that fucking burns!” 
You grabbed hold of his chin, turning his face toward you again, “Well I wouldn’t even have to do this if you didn’t mindlessly attack Draco. What was that, Teo?” Mattheo avoided your eyes, looking off to the side. 
Your fingers gave his cheeks a gentle squeeze before dabbing his nose again, he winced slightly before meeting your eyes, “You shouldn’t have gone to Hogsmead with him.” You watched as the potion closed the cut on his nose, a pink scar now taking its place. 
You grabbed one of his hands, holding your wand above it, “And why’s that?” Mattheo watched as you waved your wand, quietly muttering a healing spell that closed the cuts over his knuckles leading to fresh scars being formed there, “Because you should have gone with me.” 
Golden brown eyes met yours when you finally looked up, “Teo, we’ve gone to Hogsmead together a bunch of times. Why was this one any different.” Mattheo shook his head, “No, y/n/n, you’re…ugh, you’re not getting it. I don’t want to go with you as your friend. I-I kind of…fancy you.” 
You couldn’t help it when your eyes widened a bit, a small small forming on your face, “You kind of fancy me?” You saw Mattheo’s shoulders physically relax, a smile forming on his lips, “Okay, I really fancy you.” 
You set your wand down on the nightstand before taking a step closer to Mattheo, now fully nestled in between his open legs. “And how long have you really fancied me, Mr. Riddle?” You played with the collar of his t-shirt. You really did love it when Mattheo dressed more casually, you’ll have to tell him. 
Mattheo was feeling more confident now, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs, "Are you gonna hit me if I say a year?" Your eyebrows shot up, "A year? Mattheo Marvelo are you telling me we could've been dating for a year now but you were to wuss to say anything to me?"
At first he opened his mouth to apologize, but his brain quickly made the connections to what your statement alluded, "Y/n Y/m/n, are you saying that you have also fancied me for the last year?"
It was your turn to act reserved, "I mean...yes?" Mattheo's hands on your thighs gave a quick squeeze, causing your to squeal and grab his wrists.
Mattheo smiled at your giggles, now bringing his hands to either side of your face, "Well, looks like we've got lots to make up for, don't we love."
You nodded your head, closing the gap between the two of you, finally allowing your lips to connect with your best friend you've been pining over for the last year
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httpwintersoldier · 7 months
Text
『 bloodhound. || mihawk x reader 』
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[PART 3 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - MIHAWK VER.
[SHANKS VER.] [BUGGY VER.] [SANJI VER.]
pairing: mihawk x f!reader words: lenghtyyyyy summary: your thievery catches the eye of a man who likes to take on every challenge that crosses him, only he did not know you were a bigger challenge than he anticipated. warnings: mihawk uses you. just assume the worst when reading my stuff. angst; smut; fluff.
You weren't a pirate, but somehow you got yourself a pretty little wanted poster. 10 million Berries, not bad! Not bad at all for someone who only committed a little theft.
Obviously by "a little theft" you meant stealing from the biggest banks and richest families - you just happened to like shiny things!
You got under the Marines' radar when you managed to infiltrate the base and steal some of their maps - yes, they weren't shiny or pretty, but the money you were about to get for them from the likes of Arlong and Buggy sure was. You made deals with good people and bad people alike, who they were mattered not to you - it only mattered that their money was real.
"You busy?" The Vice-Admiral's voice sounded in Mihawk's ear.
The man, who was sleeping, his hat covering his eyes, furrowed his eyebrows and groaned internally at the voice he now found annoying.
"I was, Vice-Admiral, but I find myself free now that you woke me." The man answered, an impertinent tone in his voice.
"I got you a new prey."
Interested in the way he described you (as a prey), Mihawk listened attentively to the instructions the Vice Admiral gave him.
"A thief? You woke me and are sending me out to sea, because of a little girl who stole some stuff?" Mihawk asked with a condescending tone.
"Not some stuff. Too much stuff."
The man rolled his eyes as he made his way to his small ship
"And the Marines are not able to catch her?"
"I think you will find the task harder than it seems, Mihawk."
With those final words, the Vice Admiral hung up, tired of Mihawk's judging and condescending tone. The man groaned, getting a little tired of these seemingly easy tasks the Marine sent him on - he was a Warlord, for fuck's sake, and the Marines used him to go after a measly thief...
You, on the other hand, rested on the shore of an island whose name you didn't care to learn. You hadn't robbed anyone or anything on it yet, so you wanted to enjoy the sea, the sand and the food while no one was looking for you (even though someone already was, you just didn't know it yet). You were very confident in your skills, constantly changing your look, attire and personality to make you harder to find or recognize. Few people ever suspected you, and so the confidence that you'd never be caught grew.
Obviously it didn't take Mihawk long before he was able to find you - all he had to do was ask around which islands had recently been tragets of many robberies and find the closest island that had yet no reports of such a thing happening.
"Have you heard? Dracule Mihawk is here! I'm sure I saw him, you can see his sword from miles away!" You heard someone whisper as you walked the streets of the island.
Your furrowed your brows at the information... Dracule Mihawk? What would a Warlord be doing in such a small island? Unless...
Your eyes widened in realization.
Shit.
Maybe you weren't as careful as you thought, maybe you weren't as good as you thought, and maybe you weren't as "uncatchable" and untraceable as you thought. If he was able to find you within a couple days of setting foot on the island, Mihawk surely would be able to spot you.
Shit. Fuck.
You needed to sneak on a ship that very night and get the fuck out before the man found you. You kept cursing internally as you had to leave the island before even being able to steal anything - but it was either leaving empty handed or leaving tied up.
For the time being, you hid on the island's vast forest, where you were sure he wouldn't look, waiting for the moon to come out.
When the sun began setting in the horizon, you made your way out of the dense jungle and headed to the island's port, looking for the biggest and most crowded ship - the more people it had and the bigger it was, the hardest to spot you, the unsolicited company, would be.
"I had to admit, I thought the whispers of my arrival would ruin our encounter, yet here we are." You heard a male voice speak behind you, as you walked on the port's creaky wooden floors.
You slowly turned around to unfortunately find the man tasked with bringing you to the Marines. You smiled innocently and held your hands up in surrender.
"Sorry Sir! Think you got the wrong person, I'm just boarding now!"
Your lies didn't work on Mihawk, that just rolled his eyes at you.
"Boarding? No ship is boarding at the moment, as both of us can very clearly see. I know who you are girl, make this easier for yourself and give in."
You smirked and scoffed at the man.
"Can't believe the Marines sent a Warlord after me, am I that dangerous?" You said, placing a hand over your chest, pretending to be shocked.
Mihawk was a little surprised about your change in demeanor, but he (obviously) didn't show it.
"Neither can I." He said honestly, with a sigh that showed the utmost boredom "So let's make this quick shall we?"
Your eyes were set on his sword and necklace. They were intersting... Pretty and... shiny. Oh you wanted them, you wanted them bad. Especially since you didn't get to steal anything in the island. You knew you'd hardly be able to steal the big heavy sword, but the little cross on his neck? Child's play.
You switched your confident expression to a fake shocked, sad one and walked over to him slowly, with your wrists together in front of you - you pretended to give yourself in for the sake of getting closer.
Mihawk's confidence, boredom and belief that he was better than anyone and capable of outsmarting every opponent, as well as the fact that he underestimated you, were fulcral for your escape plan.
When trying to find a ship, you spotted a couple that had left not long ago and would be easy to swim to. For you, obviously, not for Mihawk that carried
The Warlord was not surprised you gave youself in, some people would do so in hopes to fall in the Marines' good graces and get better sentencing.
"Pretty knife you got there." You said, pointing to his sword
Mihawk furrowed his eyebrows and, while he was busy being offended you called Yoru a "knife", you grabbed the cross on his neck and dove into the water, furiously swimming towards one of the boats that had left not long ago, but was far away enough from shore for Mihawk not to be able to follow you.
"Fuck!" He yelled.
It was dark and the waves were wild, it was impossible to follow you with his sight, let alone physically. And he couldn't attack the ship - it was full of civilians.
When you reached a ship, you pretended to be a scared woman that had fallen overboard in another ship and they immediately took you in and offered you food and clothes, in an attempt to make up for the supposed trauma you'd told them about.
You were the number one thing on Mihawk's priprity list from that day on - he was obsessed with you. Any other targeted ordered by the Marine was ignored or done as a side quest as he looked for you - the woman that had stolen his necklace and worse, the one that outsmarted him.
On the other hand, you were giddy you were able to pull it off, and wore the necklace (hidden, of course, as to not raise suspicion) as a prize.
You wouldn't see each other for two months. You thought you were safe from his radar, but that couldn't be further from the truth. To be fair, you knew that if he was looking for you, he'd be at the big ball hosted by Kaya, and you knew it'd be risky to attend but you absolutely couldn't miss it - so many people to steal from, so much jewelry... A paradise to you.
So you did your best to disguise yourself: a dress far more revealing than usual, to take away attention from your somewhat recognizable face and a long, black wig with a fringe and two strands on each side that framed your face, hiding your features even more.
Mihawk refused to leave Yoru behind, even if it meant you'd recognize him in the middle of the crowd. He was determined to get you, no matter what means he had to use.
You waited a while before starting to swipe stuff - you wanted to give people time to get somehwat drunk. That would make it so they wouldn't notice their things vanish so easily and, as a bonus, they'd probably blame the loss of their items on the alcohol, and not on a thief. It was perfect.
You hid the sutff you had stolen on your pouch, in hidden places on your outfit and, in some cases, you wore the jewelry as if it was yours.
The party was cut short on your end when you saw a feathery had and a shiny sword walk in the big doors of the mansion.
"Oh... Shit." You cursed under your breath and scanned the room to find the best exit.
The stress and fear of the Warlord seemingly still following you made your brain momentarily stop, and you did not stop to think that someone hurriedly making their way out right as he walks in would be suspicious.
"Gotcha." He thought, with a smirk, as he spotted you making your way to the back.
Before you could get far, a large hand captured your wrist.
"Leaving so soon? Why don't we dance for a little, my lady." Mihawk whispered in your ear.
You had no time to reply as he spun you around and pulled you to his chest.
"You have something that belongs to me, Y/N." He whispered again.
To the unknowing eye, it would seem you and Mihawk were simply dancing to the song, but you were very much fighting, although not in a way that would alert the other guests that they were in possible danger.
"Why don't you come find it?" You suggested with a smirk, as the man spun you into his chest.
"There will be plenty of time to find it, trust me." His hands travelled your body, looking for the cross you had stolen, correctly assuming you kept it close, instead finding several compartments with jewelry "Is this all you've stolen tonight?" Mihawk asks, amused.
You chuckled.
"I was just beginning, until someone crashed the party."
Mihawk pulled you close once more.
"I doubt you're in the guest list, I'm hardly the only one crashing a party."
"So now what?" You asked with a scoff, looking up at his big, yellow eyes "You take me in and hand me to the Marines?"
Mihawk scanned your face - you were good. You had just been caught, yet you displayed no trace of stress, despair, panic... In fact, you looked confident. And Mihawk wasn't sure if that impressed him, agered him, or aroused him. For you to be so confident in the face of power and danger... that stirred up something in him that he wasn't sure how to describe.
"I'm not so sure. You've made this personal when you stole my belongings." He replied, with an expression you couldn't decipher.
"I also made fun of your pretty sword." You said with a giggle.
That was the turning point that had Mihawk swing you over his shoulder and carry you out. Some guests were far too drunk to process what had happened and the ones that weren't simply didn't care - they had free food and drinks, why should they care.
The man carried you out to the garden, to a secluded place surrounded by bushes, trees and tall flowers. There was a small gazebo in the center but it was far away enough Mihawk was sure no one would come snooping.
"That's it. Where is it!?" He asked, as if you had wasted his patience completely (which you had).
Mihawk not-so-carefully threw you on the ground and straddled you, making you groan when your head hit the hard wooden floor.
When he obtained no response, his hands began searching you, taking out every piece of jewelry he found - your pouch, your hidden pockets, your body.
"Hey!" You complained, gathering the jewelry others had worked so hard for (and you had worked so hard to steal from) as best as you could.
"Where is it!?" Mihawk growled, his face, centimiters away from yours, as his hands angrily gripped your thighs.
You knew you had no way out of it now, so you might as well succumb to his wishes.
Mihawk watched as you slid off the straps of your dress and pulled it down slightly, to reveal that his necklace was stored in your bra, between your tits. You giggled in his face, making him even angrier.
"You know what?..." The man began, taking his cross away from you and placing it down far away "You've caused me a lot of trouble... and most of all you made fun of me to my face."
His hand made its way from your thigh to your neck, gripping it slightly, before bending over to whisper in your ear.
"I think I've just found a way for you to pay for all the trouble."
For a second you thought he was going to kill you - even though choking wasn't his style, nothing was off the table, you thought. It was only when you saw a lustful glint in his eye that you understood what he meant.
"You like to fuck all of the criminals you find along the way?" You teased with a smirk.
Mihawk stood up and, as he did so, he gripped your hair and made you kneel in front of him.
"Can't wait to shut that pretty little mouth of yours." He says through gritted teeth, as he pulled out his cock and slapped it against your cheek a couple times.
You obidiently open your mouth as you look up at him with big eyes, and he shoves his lenght in your mouth. The man gathered your hair in a ponytail, making it easier to control you and fuck your face.
"Who knew you could be such a good girl? Hm?"
You could only moan in responde and grip his thighs for support. When you looked up at him again tears brimmed in your eyes, from how hard he was fucking your mouth.
When the man pulled out, you gasped for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip.
"Feel like talking back now, brat?" Mihawk asked, voice dripping in fake pity.
You opened your mark to hit him with a snappy remark, but he took the oportunity to shove his cock back into your mouth, efffectively shutting you up once more.
You gagged on his cock over and over, a tear rolling down your cheek and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he fucked your throat.
Mihawk's abdomen clenched as he felt himself getting closer and closer to climax, and just then he pulled away from your mouth.
The smudged makeup running down your face and swollen mouth alone would've been good enough to make him cum - oh how he loved putting brats in their place.
The man sat with his back leaning against one of the sturdy wooden collumns, and patted his thigh, signaling for you to sit on his lap.
"What makes you think I won't just run away." You asked with a broken voice, your throat a little dry from him fucking you.
Mihawk scoffed as you crawled over to him.
"I know you won't." The man responded in a cocky voice.
Worst part was that he was right.
As you straddled him, one of his arms wrapped around you, keeping you hovering over his cock. The man pulled up your dress and pushed your panties aside so he could access your pussy.
"Oh but you like being used, don't you? You like being a fuck toy, right princess? Just a hole for me to fuck?" Mihawk asked condescendingly, as he ran two fingers along your dripping folds.
You bit your lip as you heard those foul (and very true) words leave his lips.
"Answer me." He demanded through gritted teeth, delivering a harsh smack to your yes.
"I do- I love being used by you."
Mihawk chuckled, running his tip alolng your folds.
"I can tell, princess."
His tip found your entrance, and he had no mercy on you. He slammed you down on his cock. You gripped his shoulders, and your mouth fell open - although you were incapable of making a single noise.
The arm that was gripped around your waist controlled your movements as his hips slammed up against you, fucking you at an inhuman pace.
"Come on princess, don't you like being a brat? I dare you to try it now." Mihawk dared, whispering the last part in your ear.
"I- I won't be! Fuck- sorry!" You apologised between pants and moans, your eyes barely open.
"That's a good girl." He praised, nearly out of breath from fucking you.
"You feel good... so good." You admitted in a husky voice, earning a smirk from Mihawk and a spank that was meant to be a reward (and you took it as such).
The Warlord attached his lips to yours in an animalistic kiss, accentuating the fact that he was in control, he owned you in that moment.
You moaned incessantly into the kiss, mixing with his groans, as you gripped his shoulders.
"You look- you look so much better like this. Being obedient, with my cock deep in you."
The way you bounced on his cock became sloppy, as did his thrust, signaling you were both close to climax.
Mihawk bit and sucked your neck, marking you as best as he possibly could at that point.
"Fuck Mihawk I'm gonna cum!"
The hand that was not busy gripping your ass flew to your neck, choking you just the right way - in a way that almost made you cum.
"Did I tell you you could? Beg." He demanded through gritted teeth.
Your legs faltered at your command, but his hand held you up.
"Please, please Mihawk... I need to cum, please!"
Your high-pitched moan combined with the way you begged was enough to make him give you the green light.
You came on his cock, a loud whine and a call for his name leaving your lips. Mihawk grabbed your hips and snapped his against yours until ropes of cum filled you up.
The both of you stayed still, regaining your breaths and resuming the tension of the pre-sex moment.
Mihawk reached out to grab the cross that you had stolen from him and wrapped it around his neck once more, enjoying the familiarity of the item.
"I guess you gotta hand me over, hm..." You said, in a fake sad voice, trying to appeal to his soft side now that you had his dick in you.
He simply scoffed.
"You won't get sympathy from me, princess." The Warlord said, placing his hands on your ass "However, this world does need a few new wild cards, it's getting boring. And you have the right attitude, I think you'd have a lot more use beside me, as a student, rather than in a cell."
It was almost as if he was debating with himself about the theme as he exposed it to you.
Before you could speak, Mihawk anticipated himself.
"You'll have plenty Berry to buy your shiny paraphernalia..." He clarified, rolling his eyes.
"Well... Having your grumoy self as a teacher beats being behind bars... so I guess you got yourself a student."
1K notes · View notes
bbybaku · 6 days
Text
BOY NEXT DOOR SHIG
i actually really like this one. like might be my fav thing I've ever posted lol. slow burn i fear. ends w smut. as always
follows the American academic calendar sorry its all i know and it'll make sense why at the end
5k ish words (sorry idk how this one got so long)
warnings: uhh slow burn, smut, multiple positions, make out, dirty talk, choking, dom shig, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism
you went to college a little over an hour away from where your parents lived.
which meant you only really went home and stayed with them on school breaks. Summer, Thanksgiving, Christmas break.
You didnt think or wish to be back at your parent's house, your whole life was at college. Your friends, your stuff, your job.
That was until your parents got a new neighbor over the summer.
He was tall and kind of lanky. He had long fluffy blueish-white hair that was a little past his shoulders and always slightly in his face.
You saw him and what looked like his dad moving in.
Their new house was the one right next to your bedroom window.
Your parents went next door to introduce themselves. They came back and told you that the boy was only a year older than you and he was also in college.
You asked more questions, what school? What is his name? Does he live at home? is he on social media?
but they said they didnt know. They told you to go over and introduce yourself but you had a better idea.
You knew better then to open your bedroom window. For all you knew the new boys dad could be in the room directly next to yours.
But you did it anyway. You took down the curtains, opened the blinds and opened your window.
It was summer after all.
You never got the opportunity to talk to the boy over the summer.
You saw him in passing.
He was akward. When you saw him in the neighborhood he would give you one of those closed-mouth smiles and lift his hand in a wave. he was so hot in one of those loser-man type of ways.
You also saw him doing yard work. He never took his shirt off but he had more muscle on on than you initially thought.
Luckily, the neighbor boy also took the bedroom across from yours and he seemed to notice your open window.
Sometimes in the evenings he would open his too.
there was a little bit of distance between the houses but you could still occasionally hear the music he was listening to, you could hear him talking while he was gaming, and sometimes you would wait until he was in his bedroom with his window open to change clothes.
you hoped he would notice. maybe even take interest.
but as the summer ended and you packed up for school you knew you had to accept that it was too soon. you knew it needed time.
as the semester progressed you tried to forget the neighbor boy. you went out with you friends, you went to class, and you lived your life but he was always there in the back of your mind.
no matter where you were or what you were doing you couldn’t help but think of him. what he was doing, where he was, his long slender hands, the veins on his forearms. when you would listen to him talk to his friends. if he had a girlfriend.
obsession is a big word but you were swiftly approaching it with how often you thought about him.
when you went home for thanksgiving in mid-november you were actually ecstatic, unlike your usual sadness to have to leave your life behind. not this time, you were going to get to see him.
even if if was in passing or if it was just listing to him play video games through his window.
something was anything.
and anything was something.
just like he did over the summer he opened his window in the evening.
you tried not to stare into his house but it was much more decorated and lived in than it had been over the summer.
he had posters on his walls, better lighting, furniture arranged to be more fung shiu, and dirty clothes on the ground.
what you would do to get a hold of his dirty laundry.
he still played video games at night and listened to music.
you still changed infront off the window.
you two saw each other in passing and he did the same thing he did over the summer.
a closed mouth smile and his hand would lift up as a wave.
but now your parents and his dad were friends so they had more to tell you about him.
you had to play it cool they couldn't know that you were obsessed, no you were asking out of morbid curiosity.
your parents told you his name was tomura shigaraki. his dad adopted him, it was just the two of them, he was a year older than you and he was in computer science.
and no it did not seem like he had a girlfriend.
you had to hide your excitement.
how much did he know about you? was he even interested?
as your excitement began to dwindle and you got ready to leave home and go back to school for the last few weeks of the semester you herd someone call out your name.
you looked up and sure enough getting out of his car was the neighbor boy, tomura.
“hey! you’re (y/n) right?”
you tried to control yourself. you knew your face had to be beet red.
“oh yeah hey”
“well i just wanted to say hello" a pause. he looked around a little awkwardly, then finished his train of thought "im tomura.”
you gave a small smile “it was nice to meet you tomura, i guess ill see you around”
he did his little wave and went inside.
you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.
you couldn’t get his devious little grin out of your head.
he had to be interested. you two were the same age and the same demographic. he was a loser and you were beautiful.
if you weren’t obsessed before, now there was no denying it.
the last three weeks of the semester went by agonizingly slow. even your friends noticed your distracted demeanor.
you chose not to tell them. you didn’t want to ruin the magic. and you didn’t want to sound delusional about the neighbor you’ve been stalking and only spoken to once.
when the semester finally ended you were practically already packed and ready to head home.
you spent the entire drive trying to calm yourself down. knowing you had to play it cool around the neighbor boy. around tomura.
you got home and pulled into the driveway, you noted that his car was in his driveway.
you walked in the front door and were met with not only your parents, but also tomura and his dad.
your eyes instantly met.
you dropped the bag you were carrying.
“oh hey” you said not breaking eye contact.
“uhh what’s up” he said sounding nervous but there was no denying that he was happy to see you.
your parents introduced the two of you. he awkwardly shook your hand. you could feel how clammy they were.
your mom announced that tomura and his father would be coming to their yearly holiday party that they throw every year.
you had to rein in your excitement.
“oh, I'm excited to see you guys there”
they left and you immediately went upstairs to scream into your pillow, with your window closed of course.
the holiday party's theme was to wear holiday-esc clothes, you knew who would be there so of course you wore a little black dress and a santa hat.
you saw tomura walk in but you didn't approach him, not yet.
he was wearing a collared shirt under an oversized dark green sweater with Christmas symbols on it that looked thrifted.
you helped yourself to the access of alcohol that both your parents and their guests provided.
you had left your window closed the last few days in anticipation of seeing him tonight.
you noticed he was drinking a beer. your eyes met from across the room. he was standing next to his dad, talking to a group of neighbors.
you were talking to a different neighbor, an old lady who was telling you to dress more modestly.
you risked a glance. he was checking you out. how little you left to the imagination in your little dress.
he caught your eyes and blushed, looking away instantly. he was back into the conversation as soon as he looked away and you looked back.
you excused your self for more alcohol.
you talked to your mom
felt the warm effects of the alcohol.
made eyecontact with tomura.
talked to some more of the party guests
more prolonged eye contact.
You were laying it on thick with your "fuck me eyes"
after what felt like an eternity of dancing around each other finally, your parents were talking to him and his dad.
you joined the circle, only a little motivated by the alcohol you had been drinking all night.
the alcohol that mad the blood rush between your legs a little more than usual.
your parents were asking him about college. he answered their question but was staring at you.
"- yeah I dont really have plans after graduation I'll probably just go wherever the wind takes me kind of thing"
he didnt take his eyes off you. even after he finished talking. he was a good head taller than you. his hair had gotten longer but it still looked good on him. you noticed the contrast of his light hair against his dark eyebrows. he was well-groomed. clean shaven. you wondered what he would look like first thing in the morning with stubble and no shirt on-
"Y/n?"
"Sorry?"
"they were asking about your plans after college"
"Oh um- Im also not sure yet, Ive been looking into grad school but I'm still on the fence,"
your eyes flicked to tomura, an invitation.
"Now, if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go get some water."
he took the bait, "I think im gonna get some water too"
he followed you to the makeshift bar on the kitchen island.
you poured yourself another drink.
he cracked open another beer
“so what are you drinking?”
he shrugged and took a sip
“doesn’t taste very good”
you simply nodded. you could feel the heat on your cheeks. all these months of thinking about him and now you have absolutely nothing to say.
“so you study-“
“can we quit it with the small talk?”
he stepped closer to you and wrapped his free a hand around your waist, he leaned down so that his mouth was right next to your ear.
he said it just quietly enough that only you could hear, “i don’t want to act like i haven’t been jerking off to you changing in front of your open window and you can’t act like you’re not the little slut who opens her window and gets naked for me.”
you flushed. your blood should be cold from the embarrassment but it wasn't.
it was the opposite.
you felt like you were on fire.
it felt like your excitement was pooling in your underwear.
you realized he was still holding on to you, he hadn't moved.
it was like you and tomura were the last two people on earth. your surroundings a blur,
"wanna get out of here"
"yes. yes please" you whispered.
"thats what i like to hear"
he took your hand and walked you to the back hallway of the party since so many people were blocking the front door and the stairs.
he stopped you in front of one of the doors.
you wanted him so bad that a drunk makeout next to the guest bedroom was enough.
your back was against the wall and one of his hands was leaning against the wall next to your head.
"do you ever think about me when you're away?" he whispers.
you run a hand down his chest. stomach. brush your fingers against something else.
something hard.
"all the fucking time" you whisper back.
he doesn't say anything.
he pins your back to the wall with his body. his hand runs through your hair.
his hand does it again.
youre looking down.
his hand grabs your jaw and forces you to look up him.
he inspects your face, eyes lingering on your lips,
and then he kisses you.
not a little gentle kiss.
your mouth is met by his wet open mouth.
your hands locked around his neck, one of his hands found your waist and the other was in your scalp.
you could feel his hard on.
you rubbed your sex on him and he sucked in a breath while kissing you.
his tongue was exploring your mouth, he wanted in while simultaneously sucking on your bottom lip and biting your tongue.
tomura was warm, he smelled like ocean and spice and laundry detergent. he was all you wanted and more.
he pulled away from the kiss and took a step away from you. he wiped your mouth with his sleeve and then wiped his.
an old man you recognized as one of your moms coworkers wandered back into the hallway.
you quickly understood why tomura just pulled away.
“this isn’t the bathroom” he said looking between the two of you.
you and tomura look at each other and fake a laugh.
his face was flushed, his hair a mess, and your there was a tint the color of your lipstick around his mouth.
"oh yeah we were just talking about college. the bathroom is that way." you pointed to where the party was happening
the man smiled and walked away.
once he was gone you and tomura went right back to what you were doing.
this one wasn’t like the first one though.
it was rougher. it was something more
tomura grabbed your jaw with one hand and squeezed your ass with the other, saying between passionate kisses,
“you have no idea how badly i’ve wanted this”
he pulled on your hair, forcing your head to angle up towards his face.
you can’t ignore his big strong hands, the length of his fingers, the veins on his arms just peeking out from under his rolled up sweater sleeves.
your santa hat must have fallen off a while ago.
his other hand on your ass kneaded it like it was bread dough.
he grabbed at your ass by the handful, pulling on the skin and fat and muscle before letting it go, occasionally feeling your waist, the swell of your hips, and then going right back in for your ass and repeating the process.
his tongue explored the inside of your mouth like it belonged to him. he sucked on your bottom lip, shoved his tongue in, sucked on your mouth with his entire mouth all in no particular order.
you pressed your hips into him and liked what you found.
with one arm wrapped around his neck, you other massaging his scalp and occasionally pulling his hair, a signal to him to come closer to you.
you moved back and into him again. grinding against him. he was hot and hard.
you removed your hand from his scalp and palmed his member.
he pulled off your mouth but not your body and let out a shaky breath.
“if we start with that i won’t be able to stop” he whispered into your hair.
“who said that’s a bad thing” you whipered back.
you could feel his smile against you even though you couldn’t see his face, “i never said it was bad but maybe we should find somewhere more private”
“can we sneak out to your place?”
this was when he pulled his body off of yours and you could see his smirk, “i think that’s a great idea.”
the two of you tried to tidy each other up as best as you could but there was no denying the fact the the two of you just did something. both of your cheeks were flushed, hair was ruffled, and clothes disheveled.
there was also no denying his excitement. you pulled his sweater down to help him attempt the hide the tent in his pants.
he mumbled out a "thanks" and looked away blushing.
he walked out into the party first, raising his eyebrows at you as he said to meet him outside in ten minutes.
you counted to 100 before entering the party so as not to look suspicious.
you didn’t want your parents old and nosy friends know yours and tomura’s business.
you found your parents and stood in on their conversation. casually looking around every chance you got to find him. you spotted him in the kitchen standing next to his dad talking to a woman.
he was standing with his hands in his pockets, slouching, his cheeks still pink, his lips a little swollen, and his his looked like someone had just ran their hands through it.
you noticed you were staring. then you noticed he was staring at you too. he gave you a small smile and he pointed his head toward the front door.
you gave him a small nod in agreement.
you whispered to your mom that you were going to go sit outside and to not worry about you.
she had a few drinks in her system and was more concerned about her holiday party than whatever nonsense her daughter was up to, so it was easy to slip away.
you instantly started walking towards the front door when you felt a hand grab yours. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
the next five minutes were a blur.
your hand in his.
running over to his house.
his frantic effort to unlock the front door.
instantly making out against the front door once inside.
running up the stairs with him right behind you.
hands intertwined.
barely making it to his room before, once again, aggressively making out against his closed bedroom door.
tomura peeled your desss off in one fluid motion and picked you up throwing, you on his bed.
he whipped his sweater off, and climbed on top of you.
you began to undo the buttons on his white button down but he stopped you,
"ah ah, not yet. its my turn"
he pulled one of your breasts out of your bra, nipple already hard, and put his mouth around your nipple.
his right hand finds yours, interlocking fingers and pressing you to the bed.
his left hand finds your other breast and kneads on it. pulling on your nipple, grabbing the flesh with his palm and fingers.
all while milking your other.
his mouth sucking and teeth bruising there was nothing you could do to conceal the unholy wimpers he coaxed out of you.
his eyes find yours.
“look at me” he says then resumes what he was doing.
your mind couldn't form coherent thoughts.
the only thing you could focus on was the pleasure you were experiencing at his hands.
and mouth.
your hips find his.
you could feel his rock-hard member in his pants.
your free hand finds his member between the two of you and you rub your hand up and down him over his pants.
he inhales shakily.
"mmm not yet" he whispered into your breast.
he maneuvers to switch sides, his mouth now on the opposite breast and his hand cupping the breast his mouth was just on.
your back arches and you moan as his mouth makes contact.
you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his again.
he bit your nipple in response, getting a yelp out of you.
you knew for sure by now that you were soaked through your panties.
since Tomura had taken your dress off your arousal was evident but his attention was still on your breasts.
he was holding one of your hands and the other was in his hair, nails scratching circles on his scalp and occasionally pulling on his hair.
your hips still moving against his you gave a tug on his hair for his attention.
he kept his mouth where it was but stopped what he was doing, lazily looking up.
you pet his hair and whispered "can we please?" pushing your hips into his for emphasis.
he raised his eyebrows slowly.
he removed his mouth from your nipple dramatically with a loud sucking noise.
he sat up and switched the position he was in to now hold down both of your wrists with one of his hands and to hold your hips down with the other,
"I said not yet,"
and he turned his attention to the nipple he had previously been working on.
you thought you couldn't have been more aroused but with his new found control over you? you could have come just from the sight of him.
your hips struggled against his arm, seeking any form of release as you whimpered in pleasure from the love he gave to your nipple.
you came out of your trance and realized he was still fully clothed and you were still wearing your bra and underwear.
he removed himself from you slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and pushing his mane of hair out of his face.
you were breathing heavily and slightly disoriented from what he had just done.
"lets get rid of these, shall we?"
he started to pull off your underwear. and you went ahead and removed your bra.
"it cant be fair that im the only one who's naked?"
you motioned to him still being almost fully dressed save for the sweater he had been wearing over his now half unbuttoned button-down shirt.
shigaraki sighed and began unbuttoning his shirt
"I thought you preferred to be naked?" he looked up at you and smirked "or are you just a show off?"
you didnt really have a good response to his call out so all you could do was stare at him.
you watched him undress making sure to emphasize one of your signature looks, the fuck me eyes.
he definitely noticed your gaze.
he smirked back at you as he stood up and shucked off his pants.
Leaving him in nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers.
your favorite.
he crawled back onto the bed and sat on his knees in between your legs, where you lay on your back. head propped up with pillows and still panting from what his magic mouth and fingers just did with your nipples.
he locked eyes with you, hooked his hands underneath your knees, and pulled your bottom half up to him.
he pushed your legs up, essentially folding you in half as he brought his mouth down to yours.
He kissed you sweetly and deeply. with care but also disrespect like he would stop if you asked you him to but you were pulling him closer, scratching his back, and grinding against his member.
so he squeezed your thigh, groped your boob a little tighter, and explored the cavern of your mouth a bit deeper with his tongue.
his hand previously on your tit found your throat. he choked you as his mouth pulled from yours.
the pressure of his hand caused your mouth to open, searching for air and only getting a little bit of it.
he squeezed tighter as he licked down the column of your neck and back up.
kissing your mouth lightly one last time as he released your throat and started kissing down your body.
kissing down to your soaking wet sex.
his hand stroked your face at first. he kissed your jaw, your neck, your chest, booth boobs, your navel, then he found the space between your legs. he lifted your legs over his shoulders and started kissing you there too.
he kissed your clit similarly to how he kissed your mouth at first. softly. respectfully. passionately. like he was waiting for permission.
you gave it to him by grabbing a handful of hair and rubbing yourself against his face. you could feel his nose and his smirk on your sweet spot.
he took your invitation, and you could hear him inhale through his nose he grabbed two handfuls of your ass and went to work.
with his mouth on your clit you could feel him sucking on it, lapping his tongue against it, and eventually sticking two fingers into your sopping entrance.
you couldn't hold your moans in. especially once his veiny, long-fingered hand was pumping in and out.
your first orgasm didnt even build it just ripped through you, without anything you could have done to stop it.
shigaraki, satisfied enough with his handy work sat up and whipped your wet from his mouth with the back of his hand.
you could have orgasmed again from the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair in the ambient lighting of his bedroom.
"your so fucking hot" you couldn't stop yourself from saying.
his hazy eyes found yours "You should see yourself right now" he gave you that smirk after he said it.
there was no hiding his arousal. he pulled his boxers down and his member sprang free.
he was hung.
8 inches long and thick.
all you could do was stare your mouth slightly open and your blood pumping between your legs.
"you like what you see i take it," he says that fucking smirk on his face.
all you could do was nod your head.
he spits on the tip and starts pumping himself as he moves forward toward you.
he hooks his arm under your right leg and maneuvers himself between your legs.
"you ready?"
you hum in response
"mmm i need a yes"
"yes, I am ready"
"good girl, thats what i like to hear,"
he inserts himself slowly, you feel the familiar sting of being stretched out
tomura pauses, looking at you as if asking permission to continue.
your hand is covering your mouth but you nod for him to continue.
he does.
you look down to see that he is not even halfway in.
"oh my god" you whisper "its so fucking big"
he just smiles, not losing his focus on what he is doing.
once hes almost all the way in he pauses again, looking at you for permission to continue.
"can you start moving slowly?"
he doesn't acknowledge your words other than thrusting in and out as slowly as he can,
with each thrust in you couldnt with hold your whimpers.
tomura was slowly increasing speed and how deep he was going,
"is this okay" he asked his breath slightly shaking
"oh my god yea" you struggle to get out
he pushes the leg hooked. under his arm up higher and finally bottoms out in you,
you both moan.
"fuck, youre so tight,"
"you youre so big"
his hand hound your face and stroked your cheek before he took your jaw in his hand,
"youre so fucking beautiful"
you could feel your heart flutter in your chest as he pounded in and out of you and an unholy speed.
"lets switch positions"
you hum in response, so fucked out that you couldn't form coherent words.
he grabs a pillow and flips you over, shoving the pillow underneath your hips.
he taps the small of your back, you spread your knees and arch your back for him, grabbing one of the other pillows to hold in your arms.
tomura grabs hold of your hips and inserts himself, going in smoother this time.
just because the entry was easier did not mean the new angle was any mind boggling.
and tomura was not holding himself back in the slightest, he moaned once he was all the way in and wasted no time in absolutely fucking the shit out of you.
you didnt know it was possible for a human being to experience pleasure like this. your second orgasm of the night rips through you with an inhuman moan.
tomura gathers up your hair and pulls you toward him,
"came again so soon? thats my girl"
he wraps one hand around your throat the other finds your shoulder to use as leverage as he continues to fuck you from behind.
his thrusts begin to stutter losing speed and consistency,
"im close i wanna see your face"
"okay" you say through breaths
he once again flips you over, pumping himself as you readjust the pillows under your head and hips,
tomura heaves your legs up and enters you one last time.
your hands find the back of his head and you pull his face up to yours as he resumes his no longer consistent pace.
his hand finds your throat and your other hand finds his bicep, squeezing at the cords of muscle,
you look up at him slowly, from the sight of his cock entering in and out of you, his muscular upper body, to his big red eyes staring down at you. watching you watch him.
one last orgasm rips through you, starting in your stomach and then spreading to your core and to the rest of your body.
tomura finishes at the same time as you, pulling out and coming all over your stomach and boobs.
the two of you just sit there for a moment. both of you breathing heavy. both of you fucked out of your minds.
tomura is the first to break the silence.
he swallows and rubs his jaw,
"do you think we should go back to the party because I kind of want to do that again?"
m.list
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the-fluff-piece · 10 months
Text
Moving in together
Finally, you found a flat and will live together!
How will this work out with monster three, Law and Smoker?
Modern world AU headcanon about moving and living to together. Sfw and funny
Also check out my masterlist
And headcanon masterlist
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Zoro
Doesn't own furniture
He basically lived in Nami's closet, paying her full rent. One day he just left his stuff at your place and said "hope it's ok". Now his name is on the doorbell next to yours.
Cannot assemble ikea furniture. The orientation of wooden parts relative to the other parts is a mystery to him. The first week, you will sleep on a mattress on the floor
His clothes will fit in two drawers
He'll be running around the flat naked very often. You don't mind.
Will build a little gym in one corner and work out daily
Law
Previously lived in a basement, is overwhelmed by windows and high ceilings
Brings mostly generic furniture, but has a few Antique gems in his possession
Says things like "can't wait to have you in my bed for good" when you decide to sell yours and take his antique bed with beautiful wood carvings
Even though he doesn't seem excited about your big, fluffy blankets in pastels you'll soon find him as a blanket burrito on the couch
Cannot hide his grumpiness from you anymore, has to confront it by silently cuddling up to you
Sanji
All his stuff is second hand but in good condition, probably from flea markets
Has already planned your shared Home long before you brought it up
Has several breakdowns during moving because he is a perfectionist, needs lots of kisses and hugs and a cooking break to function again
The flat has an extra room which he loves to think of as the nursery, starting a loving family of his own is always on his mind since he met you
Luffy
Moves out from a strange flatting situation with his friends, basically brings them with him
Will hang the walls with posters of insects
Wakes up every morning full of energy listening to his favorite playlists, jumping through the flat. Since you taught him how to use the coffee maker, he at least serves you some coffee
your fridge is always either full of stuff - or empty. there is no in between.
Smoker
All his things are grey and generic. Except his old army stuff, that's army colored
he ist the most efficient mover ever. He carries your freezer up to the third floor without an elevator
He is confused by some of the stuff you bring with you. Why do you need all those stuffed animals? Shawls? Blankets? It's soft though. He likes to touch your soft things when he feels like no one's watching.
Other things openly excite him. Like all that underwear, your sexy outfits. Now he can look at all of them and suggest what you could wear for the next date...
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marlynnofmany · 30 days
Text
Secondhand Solutions
Mur gave me a smug look, curling and uncurling one tentacle like a yo-yo. “Told you it was a waste of credits,” he said.
I sighed. “If those human ships were here, it wouldn’t be. This stuff is prime Earth nostalgia.” The small pile of items on the hoversled had seemed so full of promise when I’d bought it at our last stop: cat posters, harmonicas, and a dozen packs of googly eyes.
“Pity we’re far from Earth,” Mur said.
“Yeah,” I agreed, eyeing the locals of this alien marketplace. Lots of scales and exoskeletons. Not many hands that would appreciate the softness of a cat’s fur, and very few mouthparts that would be able to do much with a harmonica. The merchant I’d gotten the stuff from had been a Heatseeker all too happy to unload her stock of cut-rate human nonsense. These folks would likely have similar opinions. I said, “At least it doesn’t expire.”
Mur straightened the individually-boxed harmonicas. “And it shouldn’t take up too much space in your quarters until we meet up with more humans eventually. The captain won’t want to hang around here waiting for them to show up.”
“True,” I admitted. It was gossip from our last stop that had told me they’d be here now. I should have known better than to trust it.
“Well, back to the ship,” Mur announced. “Maybe you can cheer yourself up by decorating your quarters with eyeballs.”
I had to smile at that. “Maybe.” He was already walking back to where we’d parked, on the far side of an over-cultivated garden area. I towed the hoversled after him.
Then I caught sight of some locals who’d run afoul of multiple birdlike beasties, and an idea started to form.
The locals, a half-dozen Heatseekers whose scales ranged from red to pale yellow, were trying to eat a nice lunch at the dining section of the garden. The squawking bird-things, which were half-lizardy with speckled brown feathers and wide beaks, had apparently claimed the bushes for their own. They were contesting this claim by spitting at the Heatseekers every time their backs were turned. These looked like pretty gross spitballs, impressive for birds.
It occurred to me that I’d seen those feathery characters all over the place here. A look behind confirmed it; they lurked in nearly every tree I could see. And judging by the way the locals were abandoning this picnic table, they were a known hazard.
They still only spat at fleeing enemies, hiding or freezing in place when pinned by eye contact.
And that was my idea. “Hey Mur,” I said. “I’ll bet you one shanty sung on a table that I can sell some of these googly eyes right now.”
He stopped and looked around, full of skepticism. “To who?”
“Do you take the bet?”
“Ah, sure. There’s no way anyone here is interested.”
“You say that now,” I said, grabbing a pack and waving down one of the hurrying locals. “But you don’t know how we deal with tigers and magpies.”
“With what?”
I didn’t answer, busy as I was explaining to the local that the false eyes were adhesive, and would give the impression of eye contact from both directions. They were just as interested as I’d thought they’d be.
After a demonstration, during which I strolled through the picnic area and didn’t get a single spitball on me, the birds were unsettled and the locals were more than happy to buy everything I had.
This was a new colony town, you see, and no one had come up with a good solution for the annoying fauna that came with the territory. But these folks were prepared to make everyone’s day.
They certainly made mine. That was five times as much as I’d paid for the stuff in the first place. And they didn’t even want the posters and harmonicas.
I waved goodbye, but they weren’t paying attention, so I turned my grin on Mur instead. He had draped a tentacle around his pointy squid head in exasperation.
“I knew I shouldn’t have taken the bet,” he declared. “But I was so sure it was pointless.”
“And I am sure that whichever song you choose to regale us with at dinnertime will be delightful,” I said, tugging the hovercart around the bushes. The birds watched me carefully, noting the eyes still stuck to my hair, and leaving us both alone. “If it’s a song I know, maybe I can play a backup melody with a harmonica.”
~~~
The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!
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Hi! Love your posts. Can you write crush headcanons for each of the turtles, like how they develop it, how they may act around them, and maybe ask them out? Thank you! Hope you have a great day!
TMNT crush headcanons:
Leonardo:
• Leo developes slow but meaningful crushes! He's very careful, and guarded of his feelings similar to Raph, but in his own way. His crush starts with feeling inspired by his person of interest, someone who makes him want to better himself in any way by either observing their passions, talents, and skills, or who encourages his limits to discover his own.
• He's thoughtful but very subtle about his affections towards someone, he doesn't exactly want them to know
• Observant, attentive, and a classic romantic is how he is—that last part, in his fantasies, at least. He dreams about being able to provide everything his crush could want or need, even though he can't always do so due to how they live
• Leo asks his crush out after a series of escalating gestures of love so it doesn't really catch them off guard. Asks them to meet him alone to talk because he has something important to say, and then makes the confession.
• "I know you have to know what I'm going to say, you're nervous, I can tell...I probably shouldn't have been so cryptic when I asked you to meet me in the dojo by yourself." He softens his posture a bit, to seem less tense. He'd lit several dozen candles scattered all over the room, partially for himself while he meditated to calm his mind a little, mostly to create an atmosphere. "You've become a close friend of mine despite everything, you know you're always welcome in our home, right? And you can come whenever." There's an awkward pause—he doesn't know how to continue with what he's saying. "Ah, anyways—I was saying...I enjoy your company, I would be honored to show you some stuff I know, in exchange for some of your time. Only if you'd like." God, he hoped that you would.
Michelangelo:
• Mikey couldn't hide his growing feelings, even if he wanted to. And it didn't take much for him to fall fast and hard for his crush; the attention he got was addictive and he wanted to give it back tenfold! He always wanted to feel wanted and accepted by others, so even though he couldn't have that from the rest of the human world, the fact that he had that from you was more than enough for him. He was grateful.
• He's his crush's biggest fan!! If there were merch, he'd wear it proudly even if it embarrassed you
• Creative and artistic; he painted and redesigned one of his old longboards just for you. It had some of his old pop-art on it, graffiti style, random sketches and doodles, and every sticker he could find. He tried to remember everything you liked to put it on the things he gave you, whether it were poster collages he made for his wall art or putting love onto the bottom of a skateboard. Big gift giver, so expect to get a LOT of stuff from him—even sentimental items he's nostalgic over, even if you feel bad to receive those things from him. He has a lot to give. 😌
• Mikey confesses by accident one day when he doesn't even mean to—he's playing around with you as usual and gets talkative when he's feeling excited, so it just slips out. Mid-play.
• "Ha-hah! That's what I'm taking about, I love you, Y/N!" There's a pause where it has to compute for a second. "Wait, did I just say that out loud?" He's serious for a moment—he can't believe he actually said that. But the next beat, he's back to smiling at you, laughing, maybe trying to deflect the hint of embarrassment he felt (which was rare for Mikey). "Yeah, I did say that out loud, I guess. Whoops...oh—now, tag, you're it!"
Donatello:
• Despite his brains and his intellectual nature, Donnie is an emotional person and actually falls in love almost immediately when he encounters that perfect person. He gets stars in his eyes and runs his own compatibility tests through his mind as he learns more about them, and annoyingly, they're stuck on his mind even when he's trying to work on his experiments and projects.
• Helpful, playful, a little stingy with your time lol—when he wants to spend time with his crush, he wants his brothers away because they take the limelight without thinking sometimes. Always offering to help you with homework or if you need anything fixed around the house, he's volunteering for that. Broken cabinet? Fixed. Wifi isn't working? No problem. Pipes under your sink leaking? He's been fixing up the Lair for years!
• Donnie is not shy. Let's say that rn. He's 👏 confident 👏. He's a little bit of a showoff competing with his brothers to snatch your attention, even if it's just games.
• He asks you if you'll have him on a date one night on your way out of the sewers. He'd been looking for the prime time to hit you with the question and was a little nervous to do it with his peers around, so he dropped the question when you went to leave for the night. "I know you're leaving—and this will only take a minute! But I had something to ask you." He lets you get curious. He holds up the keys to his prized possession, the Shellraiser, that he dreamed about driving you around in. "Ever gone on a joyride through New York in a souped-up garbage truck? No?...do you, maybe, want to do it with me? As a friend thing? Or maybe as more than just...friends?"
Raphael:
• Raph was completely UNready to admit he was getting soft for you. Or ready to commit to feeling the uncomfortable—but tantalizing—feelings you gave him. In honesty, for a good long while, Raph didn't let you know in the slightest he was getting his heart stolen over the course of the months he knew you.
• Very much puts off his crush with his prickly demeanor. But underneath that tough exterior, he's secretly taking every chance he can get to try to impress you in the ways he knows how; if there's any heavy lifting to be done, you bet he's volunteering himself out for that before anyone else can.
• Acts too good for sappy things until the moment his crush is being vulnerable—it disarms him, he's a protector at heart. He wants to be your shield from everything bad in the world, which is a lot.
• Raph plays the long game with his crush hinting over and over again he's in love, with no luck at times. It frustrates him but it's a challenge. He won't be outright and say it; everything he does is subtle, but the second your back is turned, he's making it known he's got your attention just to pull one over on his brothers (in good humor!)
• Makes his crush work with him to get the confession out, low-key. He makes you guess until you finally start to piece everything together. He will not be saying it with his words, but he'll definitely show it.
• "Y/N. C'mere," he says. "What're you still doing here this late, dummy? Already said it's not safe to walk home alone." Silence. "Agh, I did it again. Ignore my crap. But I mean it, stop goin' home alone, you know I told you I'd come too. And if I ain't available then I'm making Mikey go. Hear me? Stop acting like it's a burden or whatever..." He's kicking himself mentally for being unable to say what he actually wants to say. He ruffles your hair roughly to deflect. "See, now ya look silly like you act. Come on, let's go. I like you better safe in one piece than ending up in the back of some guy's van."
I lost all of my TMNT gifs from my old phone 😭 The post feels bare without it, but anyways, this is my first post in over a year so i hope it's good! 🐢🐢🐢🐢
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superhoeva · 4 months
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘: 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄
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next chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist
⬩ pairing(s) sexologist!francisco "frankie" morales x college student!female!reader
⬩ warning(s) very inaccurate scientific study methods (this could not happen in real life without someone going to jail, i think lol), language, flirting, sexual tension, scientific talk about genitals, safe sex practices, pcos (mentioned), endometriosis (mentioned), commentary on unbalanced male domination of sexual spaces, Spanish nicknames/pet names, smut smut smut, somewhat-guided masturbation, reader hs nipple pircings, dirty talk, mdom-ish!frankie, pussy drunk!frankie, consent checks, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), big hands!frankie, bodily fluids, doctor/patient relations, the whole "we want to but we can't but we might have to anyways" kind of vibes, some aftercare, pov switches (reader's pov uses "dr. morales. frankie's pov uses "frankie.")
⬩ author's note happy new year! starting 2024 off with a bang (literally, ha) of a new series. as mentioned before, this was inspired by an audio series created by anonyfun35 on the erotic audio site quinn (very much recommend the series and entire site if you're looking for more ethical alternatives to regular porn and able to spare a few extra dollars!), which is absolutely heavenly. frankie's been sitting in my heart recently after rewatching triple frontier, and now here we are! here is chapter one, as promised, and i can not wait to share the rest of this series with you all! (p.s. i know some people have asked to be tagged in this, but i no longer do tag lists. for those who want to keep up with new chapter, i'd recommend following the au: the study tag or just check back here regularly! heeds the warnings. let me know if i've forgotten any. drink your water. love you and hope you enjoy. <3
⬩ word count 6.4k(!)
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The lobby is suspiciously comfortable for a doctor’s office. As if the chair you’ve been shuffling back and forth in for the past five minutes. You’ve decided to focus on the mint green tint of the walls to steady yourself. Your breath moves in and out of you in quivering streams, and you have to keep running your tongue over the flesh of your bottom lip to stop your teeth from drawing blood.
A sweet-looking brunette types away at the lobby desk, and she sends you a quick smile when you accidentally catch her eye. You hope the grin you send back doesn’t look as pitiful as it felt.
Straight across from you, there’s a poster of a vagina. Vibrant and contrasting nicely with the color of the wall, it labels each part of the genitalia with pretty, curvy letters. You read over each of them, laughing a little when you get to the clitoris. Maybe you should hang a copy of the poster over your headboard. Just to make it a little easier for those who need it.
Your eyes trail left. Another poster, this one with photos of different types of barrier methods for safe sex; on it is everything from internal condoms to dental dams and a short explanation for when it’s best to use them. You study it with a little more intent than the last one and become so engrossed that you don’t hear the receptionist at the desk until her third calling of your name.
You jolt a little, looking over at her with widened eyes.
“Sorry, yes?”
She smiles at the look on your face, shaking her head.
“It’s alright,” she promises, “that stuff’s actually pretty interesting, right? I just wanted to tell you that Dr. Morales is ready to start whenever you are.”
Ignoring the way your heart jumps a little, you rise from your seat with the best grin you can manage.
“Alright,” you nod, gaze flickering down a nearby hallway, “is it–”
“All the way down and to the right. Can’t miss it. And feel free to let me know if you need anything, before or after. I’m here for whatever you need me for.”
There’s something genuine in her voice that lets your shoulders relax. You smile again, and it feels real this time. “I think I’m okay right now, but I appreciate it, I do. Thank you.”
“No worries. Oh, and honey,” she pauses, taking a second to leave her seat and trot over in front of you. “Remember to breathe. Dr. Morales is a sweetheart, I promise. Wouldn’t work here if that wasn’t the case.”
Melanie the tag on her name reads. She gives you one last wink before returning to her desk. A warm feeling fills you nicely as you watch her for a few more seconds. 
Melanie is nice. You like Melanie. If you could, you’d stay and talk to her for a while, but no sense in keeping the doctor waiting.
As you head down the hallway, the walk feels like it lasts half a second and a thousand years all at once. Time here seems to work a little differently, but maybe that’s only because of how unbelievably fucking nervous you are.
The room is at the end of the hall on the right. Just like Melanie said. The knock you give the door is softer than you mean for it to be, but it pulls open before you get the chance to knock again.
“Hi, welcome. Come on in, please.”
Well, fuck. Fuck.
The first thing you notice isn’t the fluff of hair on his head, or his big, doe, brown eyes–it’s his voice. A deep, pleasing rasp that’s soft and stirring, all of it combining into a sensation that sits snugly right in the middle of your chest. And legs.
You take a second to swallow the spit in your mouth.
“Hi,” you all but mumble back, swallowing again. God, you hope he doesn’t hear the sharp exhale that leaves your nose when he steps to the side with a smile. Your eyes blow up, big and wide, but only for a second as you swiftly compose yourself. You’re here for a scientific study, damn it, not to gape at how fucking gorgeous Dr. Morales is. Even though he is fucking gorgeous. “You’re Dr. Morales?”
“Yes,” he answers effortlessly, and you bite your tongue when he rattles off your name. His voice. You barely remember to nod, and he smiles. Now that you think about it, he hasn’t stopped smiling since he opened the door, and it’s already building a bit of sweat at the back of your neck. “It’s nice to meet you finally. Been seeing your name on all the paperwork, so it’s nice to put a face to it. Especially a face as nice as yours.”
You swallow, again, and can’t hold back the grin his words bring. “Thank you and uh… likewise.”
Dr. Morales pauses and your heart stops at the way his face drops. Then his eyebrows raise slightly like he’s impressed, and he takes in a long breath himself. A gulp of air finally refills your lungs when his smile returns, more of a smirk now.
“Thank you.”
The two words are followed by a small silence. You take it as a chance to look around. Dr. Morales takes it as a chance to glance you over, and his teeth bite into the side of his mouth at the dress you’re wearing. It’s airy and short, stopping just above the middle of your thigh.
He sniffs, clearing his throat.
“Well, if you want to go ahead and get seated, I think it’s best we just start with some introductions to break some ice. Then a short discussion about the study itself, boundaries, things like that. And I know you answered a lot of those types of questions in your application, but I think more authentic answers can come about when speaking, you know, face-to-face. Plus it’ll give us both the chance to get to know each other a little better. Relax before we get to the actual… activities for today’s session.”
You blink.
“You’re doing the… the stuff?”
Dr. Morales blinks.
“Yes,” he starts slowly, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m sorry, was that not what you were expecting? I-It’s in the forms you signed, though I guess it is pretty easy to glance over if you don’t know where to look. But if that’s not something you’re comfortable with, I completely understand. We also have some female doctors participating in the study if you–”
“–I’m comfortable with you doing it.” God, you know interrupting was rude. But the words spill out of you before you can stop them. “Really, I’m okay with it. Just surprised me a little, considering…”
A hard clenching of your teeth doesn’t work to hold back the small grin that sneaks upon your face at the expression on Dr. Morales’s face. He’s gone from warm to faltering and back to warm again, with a hint of delight just in the past few moments. 
“Considering what?”
Dr. Morales squints his eyes as he asks the question. Watching and waiting for your answer with the knuckles of his fingers rubbing across his pink lips. You only let your gaze trail across the action for a short second. Any longer, and you’re sure you’ll melt away.
“Nothing,” you finally breathe with a soft laugh. The muscles in your neck tense and pull as you force your eyes upwards. Back to his eyes. “Sorry, uh… introductions?”
Something in his gaze shifts and he drops his hand.
“Right, right. Uh, feel free to take a seat here while I pull up your file real quick,” Dr. Morales tells you, motioning to the deep red chaise wing chair you didn’t notice until now. You nod, not trusting your voice, and settle into the large chair. It’s even more comfortable than the one in the lobby, and Dr. Morales just barely keeps his smile at how you subconsciously snuggle into the plush.
Other than the blood rushing past your ears, the clacking of his fast typing is the only sound in the room.
Much like the lobby, the room is rather warm for where you are, literally and figuratively. It’s a kind difference from something like the dentist or your normal practitioner. The opposite of the bright, sterile white you’d expected. You can tell the room was put together with the intention of being congenial for whoever steps inside. The velvet couch and nice rug that decorate the space tell you that much.
It seems that Dr. Morales dresses with the same purpose, white coat hanging forgotten on the back of his swivel chair, showing off the taupe button-up that stretches over his impressive set of shoulders. The shirt is tucked into a pair of thick, clean-cut jeans that hug around his waist.
“Alright,” Dr. Morales begins, sliding his chair over a few feet so you can see him a bit better. He smiles as he continues, reading off your name and age, to which you nod and smile back. You make sure the grin is big enough to cover the shiver that runs throughout your body and you don't notice that he didn’t even have to look at the screen when reciting the words.
“Great. Well, as I already told you, I’m Francisco Morales,” he chuckles, “one of the doctors here participating in this study you’ve so kindly agreed to be a part of. We’re really excited about all the knowledge we’re expecting to gain from the study. I, uh, we–we really appreciate you being here.”
“Oh, thank you for the opportunity. I’m also really excited. Never been involved in something like this before, so… yeah. I’m excited.”
Huh. Excited is one of the few words able to come to your mind as you bumble through the sentence. After only a few minutes with the doctor, you’ve found it’s somewhat difficult to form a coherent enough sentence. It’s even harder with him staring at you.
“What made you want to participate, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“Um,” you start without thinking, “part of it was the topic of the study itself, I guess. So many of the things that have to do with sex, at least in my experience, are centered around men and their pleasure and what makes them feel good. So I think it’s refreshing to see something like this.”
“Oh, absolutely. That’s the whole reason for us doing this. I mean, we’ve got gynecologists, hormone specialists, endocrinologists, gender surgeons, and even sex therapists on my team all working together on this.”
“Oh, wow. That’s actually… really impressive,” you breathe out, but Dr. Morales shakes his head.
“It is, but I don’t wanna take all the credit. We’ve got a lot of amazing people working on this thing that’s gonna lead to ways to help women suffering from endometriosis, PCOS, trans women, everyone, really.”
Your eyes soften at the doctor’s words, and you straighten a little.
“Well, now I’m very happy to be here.”
Dr. Morales’s eyes squint with his smile this time. It’s the biggest he’s smiled all week.
“Good. I’m glad. And you’ve already filled out all the financial paperwork? Wanna make sure you get paid for this week’s session as soon as possible.”
“Oh, yeah. That was actually the other reason I signed up. Got some student loan payments coming up, and I could use the extra money.”
Dr. Morales laughs to himself.
“Loan payments are a bitch, aren’t they? Still paying mine off,” He shakes his head. Something about his curse pulls a small chuckle from you.
“Never heard a doctor curse before,” you tell him, and he laughs this time, raising his eyebrows with a shrug.
“Sorry. I’ll try to keep it at bay, but I should warn you… I can have a pretty dirty mouth.”
Whether he knows it or not, Dr. Morales’s voice seems to drop an octave as he speaks. The words are paired with his gaze clouding to something similar to a stirring ardor. It shakes something inside you, rumbling into the depths of your veins, heating you in a way that feels remarkable. In a way that has you clenching and reeling, eyes just barely watering.
He hasn’t even touched you yet, and he’s got you evaporating into a transcendent air of nothing. You brush your hands along the fabric of the skirt of your dress, arms stretching and trying to find some sense of relief. Dr. Morales stares into you, a burning observance of an action that your subconscious therefore controls more than anything. The look is hot and pointed and forces him to take in a long inhale. He squeezes the thin arm of his chair when you finally grant him a soft reply.
“I don’t mind.”
Dr. Morales pauses before letting out a huff. A smirk teases across his lips, and his mouth opens like he’s going to say something. He stops just short of whatever it is, opting to roll his seat a little closer to you while clearing his throat.
His elbows hit the top of his knees, gaze tilting to yours. Unable to hold it, you try to settle for his hands, but that doesn’t seem to calm you at all. You flick your eyes again, this time onto his thighs, but it’s no use.
Damn it.
“Um, so today’s session will revolve around cunnilingus and a some hand stimulation. Uh… sorry. Sorry, I–” Dr. Morales stumbles to a stop and your eyebrows furrow.
“You okay?”
He holds a hand out at the look on your face with a quick nod.
“Yeah, yes, I’m okay. Where was I? Uh… right, so like we talked about a little bit ago, I’ll be the one performing the… stuff, as you called it. And speaking of that, you’re still one hundred percent comfortable with me being to one to do it?” 
“Hundred and ten,” you promise with a bobbing of your head that makes him grin again.
“Okay, then,” he nods back, hands rubbing against the denim of his jeans. “Let’s get started.”
.・゜゜・
You’re going to be the death of him.
He had an inkling of it when you greeted him at the door, those eyes all wide as you took everything in. He was confident about it when you assured him that you’d be alright with the fact that he’d be the one ‘doing the stuff.’ He knew when you didn’t mind his dirty mouth. And he was certain when you'd asked if he was alright.
Dead. That’s what you’ll make him by the end of this study, and he’ll go happy. A little embarrassed also, given how he started sputtering through his sentences like he was twenty years younger.
Frankie’s breath catches a little when he returns to the room after washing his hands. You’re just finishing the tie on the robe he’d provided you with, and he doesn’t realize how flimsy it is until now. It maps across your shape damn near perfectly as you hang your dress on the side of the wingchair.
“Hi,” you breathe out, spinning around. Frankie rakes his teeth over his bottom row of teeth hard.
“Hi,” he blinks back, making sure to brighten his face with a small smile. “Ready?”
You shakily hum your answer, smoothing down your robe to busy your hands. It’s made of silk and feels incredible, but boy is it small. Just barely covering the cheeks of your ass, you might as well be wearing nothing.
“Alright. So, before I forget, let me go ahead and get a swab of the inside of your cheek, just so we have that on record.”
Frankie grabs a long cotton swab and its transport tube off his desk, stepping over to where you stand waiting. He swallows, ordering you to softly open. You obey with no questions asked, dropping your jaws.
Did you mean to stick out your tongue, too? Frankie has no idea, but whatever the answer is, he doesn’t care, not with the rustle he feels in his middle.
“Thank you,” he replies after a few scrubs of your mouth, eyes catching yours briefly before sticking the swab in the tube and placing it back onto his desk. He huffs, turning back around to you. “Now, let’s get you settled on the couch.”
Frankie holds out his hand for you to take without thinking. The regret that runs through him slips away as you place your hand into his grip and let him lead you. His other hand reaches for his chair, rolling it over as he walks with you.
He rubs a gentle thumb on the back of your palm as you sit, hand squeezing into a fist when yours drops from his. Frankie sits in his chair with a grunt, planting his feet on the group, making sure to face you.
The man softens a little at the sight of you, all bunched up into a ball of returned nerves, and he thinks for a moment.
“How about we start with a deep breath, yeah? Relax a little bit before we do anything else?”
You nod and Frankie’s head goes a bit fuzzy for a short moment. You’re so sweet, with your tiny robe and all your nods, like candy. You breathe in deep, just like he says to. Your chest rises with it, and Frankie almost forgets to take in the breath as well.
“Good. Now, how we go from here is up to you,” Frankie starts, hands folding together politely. “Robe can stay on, or you can take it off. Your decision–”
“Robe off,” you speak before he’s finished. He holds back a chuckle. “Sorry. I’m okay with it off if you are.”
Of course, you are. Of course, you are, and so is he.
“That’s absolutely okay with me. As long as you’re comfortable,” he states, and your fingers go to pull at the tie. He shuffles, waiting, and swallows when you pause.”
“Um, is my bra being off okay? I took it off with my dress, didn’t even think about it until now.”
Frankie’s head pivots back to the wine-colored chair. And so you did. There’s more lace than he expects, causing him to stare longer than he means. He turns back to you with his eyes darker than before.
“That’s perfectly fine.”
You nod again, fuck, and finally pull the ties. His heart nearly stops as the silk slips down your shoulder, exposing your naked skin to him, inch by inch.
God, you’re devastating. You devastate him, and he’s going to die a happy, happy man. It’s inappropriate, he knows that, but fuck. Yes, he’s a doctor, but he’s also a man with blood pumping through his veins and down into his cock, which he’s currently shielding with a subtle cupping of his hand.
Your robe continues to fall, and soon enough, nearly all of you is revealed to him. His eyes, working with a mind of their own, fall upon your breasts.
Of course.
“Wow,” is all he says, and the corners of your mouth pull upwards. You peek down, the tips of your barbell piercings shining with every one of your shaky inhales. “Wow, uh… wow.”
“Oh, these. Yeah, I got them a few years ago,” you reveal, setting the robe to the side. “Hurt like hell, but it was worth it.”
“While I definitely agree, I was talking about your… everything. You’re gorgeous, querida.”
Querida. The name is unexpected, yet received by you with dilating pupils. It’s not just the way he says it but the way he says it. You can tell that he means it, every letter. Every syllable, as it falls off his tongue, into your ears, and down to just inside the thin layer of your panties.
It’s the only piece of clothing left on your body, and you’re certain they’re soaked. You can feel yourself seeping through, needing for something to happen. Anything, or you’ll die.
“Thank you,” you murmur back, impatience inching you closer and closer. To what, you don’t know, but you think it’s something special. “Should I go ahead and…?”
Dr. Morales’s gaze oozes down you where you’re slowly parting your legs. It takes him a second to answer.
“Uh,” he interrupts himself with a short laugh, “actually I was going to have you do something else for me first. When you’re, you know, in the act of pleasuring yourself, how do you usually start? Do you… do you dive right in or is there some kind of build-up?”
Legs having paused, you blink. It’s almost impossible to formulate an answer, but somehow you manage.
“Normally, I’d play with my nipples.” God, it sounds so silly when you say it out loud. “Tease myself for a little bit until I’m ready to start.”
The doctor sits back in his seat, still covering his growing member.
“Why don’t you go ahead and do a little bit of that for me?”
There’s that thing again. With his voice, the thing that is causing your organs to convulse and squeeze. Has you scooting a little further back onto the couch with ease and a deep breath.
You hear Dr. Morales suck in one of his own as your legs spread a little further, revealing a large wet splotch in the very middle of your panties. It’s seeped a little into the couch, and you’re not even embarrassed. Your legs more because you want him to see it. You need him to.
A flinch jerks you when the tips of your fingers meet the buds of your breast. You twist and pull, and it feels good. Better than normal with the beautiful doctor watching you do it. They start to pebble around the metal and a few shocks through you.
Leaving your lips is a gasp. Soft and nearly nothing, but it tugs something from Dr. Morales.
“That’s it. Good girl.”
When you gasp again, he bites his lip.
“You like that? You like it when I say that?”
You nod.
“Words, querida.” No matter how much he likes the nod.
“Yes, I like it when you say that.”
“When I say what?”
You hear him chuckle at the small groan you release.
“A good girl.”
Your voice is even smaller now, hoarse with want.
“Good girl.” Another groan from you. “Now, I need you to move a little further down, okay? Slip those pretty panties off for me.”
Your turn.
“You really like them?”
Dr. Morales’s throat bobs at your question you ask while dragging your hand lower. They glide across your stomach to rest just over your center. Pushing onto your clit, your moan is muffled by the way your teeth catch the soft flesh of your lip.
“I do, muñeca,” he assures you. “I really do. They’re almost as pretty as you are.”
You can’t help the full grin that sneaks onto your face. You push against yourself a little harder, and your head falls to the back of the couch. Fingers hooking under the seam, you tug.
Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion at this moment. You raise your head back up, just to catch the reaction from the doctor, who’s already gazing into your pussy when your eyes refocus. His breathing changes from long, calming inhales, to unsteady suspires.
“Jesus,” he grits out just under his breath when you eventually throw your panties alongside the robe and fully open yourself to him. Clenching around nothing, you relax further into the couch, legs propped and feet settled against the velvet.
Your huffs push out hot when Dr. Morales finally lifts from his seat. You don’t dare look away as he steps forward, towering over you. He bends at the waist, face lowering near your own. He gets so close that, for a split second, you think he’s going to kiss you. Press his pouting lips into yours like you so badly want him to.
His breath fans across your face, but he pulls away before you get to bask in any of the warmth. In his hand is a pillow from the couch that he plops onto the floor.
“Bad knees,” Dr. Morales mumbles, smirking at the dazed look in your eye. You say absolutely nothing, only watching as he drops his knees onto the wide pillow, hands clenching the edge of the couch cushions.
All the doctor does for a tick is stare. He stares and stares, tongue darting out to wet his mouth.
“Keep rubbing for me, hermosa,” Dr. Morales orders. “Just a little more.”
Your pussy clenches around nothing when your fingers dip down and come back sticky with your wetness. A whine exits you, and your head falls again.
“Can you touch me now? Please,” you remember to add at the end, the ache between your legs forcing you to squirm. “Please, I can’t wait anymore.”
A hand on your thigh almost startles you. Your head tips back up to see his palm sitting heavy against your leg.
“This what you want?” He asks, another scalding touch planting itself on your other thigh. His hands give thrilling grips, thumbs landing at the very edge of your dripping lips.
A pathetic nod from you.
“Words, gorgeous,” Dr. Morales tells you, gaze completely unmoving.
Gorgeous. Hm. A new one, but just as effective.
You pant a few more times before pushing out “Yes, that’s what I wanted.”
“Good girl,” he praises, and you’re nearly done for. “Now, if I ask on a scale of one to ten, how turned on are you right now?”
It’s tough to think of an answer. His hands, so big and inching closer and closer to your heat, are melting your thoughts away at record speed. Everything you try to come up with leaves too fast for you to catch them.
“A… a seven,” you sigh, liking the way his eyes twinkle at your response. “Seven.”
Dr. Morales chuckles lowly, looking up at you.
“Seven?” Frankie grins. “I haven’t touched your pussy yet, and you’re already at a seven?”
He waits for an answer but only receives a long whine that makes him want to laugh again. Fuck, you’re cute. And wet enough that your juices ooze out of you with a pretty shine, and it’s all for him.
Honestly, the only reason he’s lasted this long is because this is for science. Because Francisco Morales is a medical professional and needs to have some kind of composure. It’s breaking, though. He knows it, and not just because of the way his hands crawl closer and closer to your pussy. Or because of the ache in his cock that’s straining against the crotch of his jeans. Sucking in a breath at the feeling of it catching against the tight fabric, Frankie scans you.
Your chest, those stunning tits, have a noticeable rise and fall and you watch him. Something in your gaze, an unexplainable force, finally pulls his face down. It’s as close to your pussy as it’s been. He tries to remind himself about the self-control he’s supposed to be possessing, but a few more seconds pass and it’s nowhere to be found.
He starts just off the left side. The first kiss, soft and careful to start easy. Figure out what you like, what you don’t, and what you really like.
Kiss after kiss, his lips press a little harder. Gliding across the skin of your thighs and pelvis, staying in a spot a little long when it elicits a sound or squirm from you.
The pecks turn to full smooches, and he soon enough finds himself right where he wants to be.
Eyes meeting yours, he sinks into you with a long, fiercely slow drag of his tongue. Frankie’s gaze ties into yours, he puckers his lips and sucks. It’s a supple thing that he pairs with a flick of his tongue right across your pearl.
“Oh,” you squeak, unable to continue with anything but another broken sound. When you arch, Frankie’s hand reaches higher to rest against your hip. He had his suspicions that you were a squirmer, but to see it like this, up close is something else. Something special. “Shit.”
God, you taste incredible. Better than incredible, and while he wants to tell you he can’t. There’s no way he’s pulling away from this, so he suffices for his own moan.
“Fuck,” he mumbles against you, mouth lifting to suck a bit harder. The hand not occupied on your hip reaches until his thumb sits just inside your opening. He rubs, delicately, all the way up, only pulling his mouth away to smooth it over the slick skin.
Another moan, this time from both of you when your hips grind upwards. He matches your movements, letting his head dip back down to continue his lick.
After a while, Frankie decides to up it a notch. Delve as much of his mouth as he can against you, lapping and slurping whatever he can catch before it leaks down onto his chin. The sound it makes, your pussy and his soaking lips, is disgusting. Loud, sinful squelches of wetness that he would give anything to hear for the rest of his life.
Yet somehow, what leaves you is even better. A combination of hitching breaths, loud coos, and cries for him to keep going. Just like that, fuck. So he keeps going, just as he is until he can barely breathe.
He yanks away from you with a grunt but makes sure to replace his tongue with his hand. 
“Such a gorgeous pussy,” Frankie husks out, pressing another kiss to your inner thigh while he finishes catching his breath. “What number now, princesa?”
Frankie makes sure to wait until you’re about to answer him when he snakes his tongue into your slit and fucks. His head bobs back and forth, tongue caressing as deep inside of you as he can. His fingers return to your clit, rubbing with ease thanks to the mixture of slick and spit.
“I don’t know, I can’t think of one,” you rush out, and Frankie chuckles. He gives you one last bold lick before pulling away. He has to hold you tighter when you squirm in irritation, nearly sobbing.
Frankie shushes you with a kind pat on your thigh. You don’t have a chance to whine anything out before he hooks an arm of your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the couch. One of your legs hangs just off the couch, so the doctor hitches it over his shoulder.
His eyebrows scrunch, and he focuses his attention on ghosting a few fingers just barely inside of you. He looks up at you and is met with you already looking back, ready and waiting for him to push further.
He pauses in a wait. Not ten seconds pass before you try to thrust his fingers further yourself, but he doesn’t let you.
“All you need to do is give me a number, baby, and I’ll fuck these as deep as you want.”
“Nine,” you whisper, and he spots your hands clench. You must want to touch him.
“Nine,” he repeated, thumb rolling a circle over your clit. “How many fingers to get you to ten?”
“Three, plea–ah,” you mewl out when Frankie slides his middle digit inside you. He lets out his own noise at the way you suck him in.
His hand bottoms out, and you’re already fucking yourself on his finger. “That’s a girl. Already taking my finger so well. Feel so fucking good around me.”
You’re truly a sight to behold as Frankie watches you, skin damp with a slight sheen, curving and grinding against his hand. Speed increasing, almost growls when he bends to lap at your clit. His tongue twirls against the bud of nerves, and he has to close his eyes to stop himself from reaching down and giving his painfully hard cock a squeeze.
Frankie slides in the second and third finger at the same time, and you break. 
You don’t mean to tangle his hair with your fingers, but they do anyway. It’s hard, but you tug them away, clenching the couch instead.
“Sorry. Sorry, I–” you blurt out, breath long gone, but Dr. Morales has none of it. He doesn’t lift from his licking and swirling to grab your hand and tangle your fingers back into his hair. “Fuck me.”
The rhythm he finds is relentless. He pumps knuckles deep inside you, sliding in and out, collecting a residue of thick moisture. He curls his fingers, searching and finding the spongy spot that causes you to tighten your grip on his hair. His fingertips drag across it, over and over, and you fall limp in his grasp.
“Good fucking girl,” he tells you, words slurring together in his pussy-drunken state. “So good for me. Now I need you to cum, alright? Need you to come for me, all over my fingers so I can drink it all up.”
Dr. Morales slurps messily, chin now nearly dripping as he eats at you. Savoring the tang and hint of sweet while his fingers drive with a steady vigor. There’s no way you can stay still now. You arch, twist, and grind into the doctor, propelling him even deeper. He’s reaching somewhere inside of you that you once thought impossible. Taking grasp of you entirely.
You’re close. You’re so close
“I’m clo–fuck, yes, I’m close. Please don’t stop, please,” you whimper.
“Yeah, you are. Squeezing all nice around me, like a good girl. Sucking you into my mouth. Love how you feel on my mouth, baby. And on my tongue and around my fingers. Never gonna forget how you taste. Shit, could come just like this, so I need you to come right now, okay?”
Frankie doesn’t even know what he’s saying, his rambles. They just pour out, some of it incomprehensible as he busies himself with circling and flicking your sensitive clit. 
You sob out one last moan before the damn breaks. He groans along with you at the way your clit throbs against his tongue. His fingers slow, but only a bit as they make sure to rub right against your g-spot.
A choking sound leaves you as you can barely breathe. The air sucks from your lungs almost as hard as Dr. Morales does down below, and your eyes clench shut. You see stars and space, world falling mute, and body quaking with a thick orgasm.
It rolls over you in drowning waves, the euphoric warmth, driving you with an unbearable bliss. You whine, crying out a few tears. Twitching and shivering under the strong hands of Dr. Morales. 
His hold is tender as you work through it, talking to you gently in the pauses he takes from licking you clean.
“Fucking look at you, querida.”
“Did so good for me, so fucking perfect.”
“Can’t wait to get you back in here next week.”
Only some of the words make it to your ears. The blood rushing makes it hard to understand, but just the sound of it is comforting enough. You feel more kisses press into you, this time just under your belly button, as the fingers inside you still.
The two of you stay like that for several minutes. Dr. Morales murmuring quietly to talk you down. Your leg still over his shoulder caressed by his free hand, while your own twirls at his brown locks.
“Fuck me,” you breathe out eventually, and Dr. Morales smiles against you. You can’t help but join him, chest warming at the final peck he places onto your knee before lowering your leg.
“Gonna pull out, okay? I’ll go slow,” he tells you. You nod, hand falling around his to touch at the warm skin. You huff out a short breath, mouth falling open as you stare at the wetness revealed when he begins to pull out.
Frankie whispers out his own damn, watching you until his fingers are free. Fuck, you’re pretty, aren’t you?
“I meant what I said earlier,” he declares, pushing away the thought. “Did great, muñeca. Incredible, actually.”
“I could say the same for you…” you mumble with a shy grin, and Frankie finds it touching. You’re divine. You’re precious. You’re… his patient.
The room is filled with heat and smells of sex. It clouds Frankie’s brain, but he knows he needs to keep moving. You can dwell, but not him. He’s got a job to do.
Frankie only lets himself stare for a few more minutes before he rises with a groan. His knees are aching, but he doesn't care. His face heats when you help him up the rest of the way, loose limbs and wet stains in all.
“Thank you,” he smiles, moving to hand you your robe with his untainted hand. “Let me go grab you some water and a towel, and then we can do your swab so you can get out of here.”
He’s turning to leave, heading for the bathroom across the hall to wash his hand–it’s still wet and shining, even now–but stops when he sees the look on your face.
“Is it required that I leave right away?”
Frankie is quick to answer. The small pout on your face makes it so.
“Of course not,” he shakes his head. “You’re free to take your time, take a breath. Sip on the water I’m gonna go grab you. Hell, you can even take a nap, if you want. I’ve uh… we’ve got rooms upstairs with beds and blankets. I think there are some snacks in there, too.
“Really?” You blink at him.
“Yeah. Gotta keep you all as comfortable as possible.”
Frankie sees that look again, the pout. He’s not sure you even know you’re doing it.
“I actually might take you up on that nap. I don’t think my legs have really come back yet,” you tell him, looking at him while slipping on the robe. When feels your eyes trail down, right to the bulge in his pants, he sucks in a rough inhale and does his best to screen the obvious.
“I’ll be right back with that water and towel,” Frankie rushes out, turning for the door.
His clean hand is sitting shaky on the handle when he hears you.
“Do you want me to…” you trail off, pausing for so long that he doesn’t expect you to keep going. “I could help you with that if you want.”
That. He knows you aren’t talking about getting water or towels, and it crumbles him. He grits his teeth, dick jumping at the thought of your–
No. No, he can’t. No matter how much he wants to, he can’t.
Frankie turns, digging deep for the strength to look you in the eyes.
“...we shouldn't, sweetheart. It’s against the rules, and we don’t want either of us getting in any kind of trouble, right?”
It takes a long time for you to nod. Way too long.
“Right,” you agree, but Frankie can smell the lie. He wonders if you can smell his, too.
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© superhoeva
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zee-143 · 4 months
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~𝙵𝚊𝚗!𝚂𝚔𝚣 𝚡 𝙸𝚍𝚘𝚕! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜~
♡A/N: This is what won the polls so this is what I'll write. Also ty to everyone who likes my content. I have other fics coming up so stay tuned and hope you enjoy this one❤❤ Skz aren't idols in this btw. Just you :) I did reread this but if u do find mistakes I apologize 😭
SKZ x Fem! Reader
♡Genre: Fluff
♡Warnings: Noneee
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Chan
He first heard about your music through a friend.
He was instantly hooked
He practically loved every single song you wrote and released
Chan was definitely a committed fan too
He'd follow all your social media just to stay updated on everything you were doing
Nothing creepy. Only to stay informed of course
If you had a fan meeting? He would totally be there. Even if it meant dragging a friend along with
A concert? He will be there just to support you
Chan simply loves anything you do. Whether it be the way you eat or talk. Everything just seems so... Perfect
Now, as a fan, Chan knows he shouldn't get too attached but its been difficult to say the least
Ever since that one encounter with you, Chan couldn't help but get a little excited at the thought of you
It was your 5th fan meeting. You were happily greeting fans, receiving their gifts or compliments like a complete professional. Chan stood in line, excitedly tapping his feet. He held a paper bag(that was your favorite color) with loads of gifts in them.
The line moved quite slowly but Chan didn't mind. If it was to see you, he'd wait a century. The closer he moved though, the more excited and nervous he became.
Finally, it was his turn to meet you
You happily greet him and he greets back. You spark up a little conversation by complimenting his outfit. Chan compliments back, saying how he admired your outfit too.
Chan revealed all the presents he bought for you. You were extremely surprised by how many things they were. Your staff can along, taking the gifts and placing them with the others
"You didn't have to buy all that stuff you know" You laughed. Your smile caused a light pink to spread across Chan's face. "I don't mind. You really inspire me and make me very joyful. It's the least I can do" Chan grins confidently. You nod, signing the poster and album he brought along
"Well, thank you so much. It's really amazing that I get to make fans like you so happy. It makes me happy. Don't stop smiling for me, alright? " He never forget those words. He never forgot his promise to her. He smiled, whenever a smile needed to be present.
Chan sometimes wonders if you remember him. It is unlikely. You do have millions of fans everywhere all around the world. Meeting you was enough for him though. It was just enough.
Minho
He was just scrolling through YouTube one day when he came across on of your music videos. With 93 million views?
He felt that was a little much but who knows maybe it wasn't bad.
Minho was wrong though. It wasn't just bad. Your music was 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. He felt like he just found a drug and you were the dealer.
He tried not admitting how much he actually liked your music but failed
The posters on the walls aren't there for nothing obviously
He loved your dance style. It was so clean yet fun. He'd spend hours in his room just watching performance videos and trying to master your dances
Minho was intrigued by your stage presence more than anything. You captivated the crowd with just one look. You definitely had a way with face expressions and emotions
His room was filled with different types of merchandise. From posters to photo cards to albums to hoodies and even more
With all the merch though, it was hard to keep his little obsession a secret. And not because he was embarrassed. He just didn't want people getting all nosy with this one little interest. It was his and his alone.
One moment he won't forget was that one live he watched
Minho wasn't particularly feeling well that day but luckily you were on the rescue. You decided to go live and just ramble about whatever has been happening. Nothing special, which Minho didn't mind. He just loved your voice.
Minho was slightly bored. He deciding on commenting something. It's not like he was hoping for you to see it. He typed out something sweet but simple: 𝘐𝘮 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳. He read through the comment before sending it through
You, on the other hand, we're reading through the comments until one caused you to raise your eyebrows and smile. "I'm feeling really bad today but your voice makes everything a little brighter" You read.
Minho practically panicked, noticing you read his comment. That was 𝙝𝙞𝙨 comment. He slapped his cheek just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. And sure enough he wasn't.
"I'm sorry that you're feeling bad but it'll get better. Life sucks but don't let that stop you. I'm glad I'm helping just a bit. To which ever fan who commented that and everyone else, I love you so much and don't ever forget that" You raised a thumbs up before staring back down at your phone, looking for more comments to read
Minho felt his heart skip a beat. Skip multiple beats in fact. Though the last few words weren't only directed towards him it felt that way. And that's all that matters.
Changbin
Changbin had always been a fan of you. Ever since debut he was rooting for you to succeed
And boy did you do just that
You had millions of fans from all over the globe now and he felt proud of you for that. He loved that you got where you wanted to be.
He enjoyed more of your older songs as that's what he's used to but the newer songs are amazing too.
What really stood out to him about you though was your laugh. You had such a pretty and contagious laugh. Every video he watches, he just hopes you'll laugh. It makes him smile.
He also relates to you food wise. Changbin is someone who loves food and for you to love food as much as he does. Well, that's nice to hear
It was funny how stupidly similar you both were but who knows.. Maybe he's just being delusional
He sometimes thinks about what it would be like to befriend you. He was positive that it wouldn't be a boring experience that's for sure.
He basically stalks your Instagram account and other social media too.
If you post something, he's most likely already seen it or read it. Everything you post is something different, so he always makes sure to stay updated
He also noticed how you both practically have the same sense of humor. Any joke you say seems to crack him up more than anything else
Changbin was watching a recent vlog you recorded and couldn't help but notice a funny detail. After the video he hopped onto Twitter and shared his observation
'𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 (𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦) 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 2 𝘵𝘰 3 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴. 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥'
A few hours, Changbin returned to Twitter noticing the attention his post got. Many were agreeing and others were just pointing out other details. But one comment left him shocked
He couldn't believe it. He even clicked on the profile and did everything. And surely enough, that comment was from you
'𝘓𝘰𝘭𝘭, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 😭"
You liked his little joke. YOU ACTUALLY LIKED IT. He tried not to scream as he was in a restaurant with a bunch of friends. He must have been dreaming, or dead maybe.
Either way, he was glad you got to laugh at his silly comment. Who knows. Maybe they'll be more silly comments you'll see and laugh at even more
Hyunjin
Hyunjin loves you. And when I say love, I mean he 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨 you.
He listens to your music every single day. Maybe while painting or doodling, he played one his favorite songs
I mean, all your songs were his favorite song, but he had a few that he held close to his heart.
When with friends, he always has an urge to bring you up in literally anything conversation
"Did you see (name) at Paris Fashion Week "
"Did you know (name) can do that too"
"Woah, that reminds me of (name). She's a great idol and her music is fantastic! "
Just a few examples of his undying love to you
Hyunjin really believes that you both are soul mates. Now, that is quite delusional but it makes sense! (To him anyway)
You once described, in an interview, what your type is and he ticked all the boxes. But maybe that's just his ego talking. Just a hopeless romantic in love
He celebrated your birthday like it was his own.
His gallery was filled with more pictures of you than his own family
It was all very concerning but Hyunjin didn't care. He was happy. He was happy knowing you.
Hyunjin did do other things too. He occasionally posted his art which gained lots of attraction. It was good after all. At some point, you mentioned how you didn't know what cover to use for your upcoming album.
Hyunjin took it upon himself to make a fan made album cover. It was soo good, people actually thought it was official. You soon saw the cover and was so impressed. You needed to use it. It was perfect
Hyunjin woke up to something unexpected the next day. Other than the thousands of notifications, he got a DM. From you. He almost dropped his phone from pure surprise
'𝘏𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦!! 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵!! 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵, 𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵? '
'𝘠𝘶𝘱, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴. 𝘐𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘯 😖"
"𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭!! 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬. 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 :)"
"𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘳!!"
And with that, Hyunjin's artwork was the official album cover
He was over the roof. Seeing his art piece on the YOUR official album with YOUR songs. Okay, saying he was over the roof is an understatement
You later had an interview about the album and basically praised Hyunjin for his work for around 2 minutes. He watched that interview more than he could count. Needless to say, he didn't want to forget this moment.
Jisung
Jisung wasn't an artist but he liked music. Music was like a child to him. To some extent anyway
It did make sense though
His father was the owner of a huge kpop company. The company you were under in fact
Jisung wasn't interested in your music at first. Until, he followed his father in the recording studio you were working in. It was just a check up on your latest song. After one listen, he couldn't get the song out of his head.
He did some research about you and realized you were quite a popular idol in the community. That's where his fan obsession began
He liked watching all your interviews. Your personality was something he couldn't get over. You were always so nice and thoughtful towards anyone around. He was very intrigued by everything.
Though you were in the same company his father owned, you both never interacted. Mainly because he avoided you as much as possible. Embarrassment was not an option.
As a fan, Jisung listened to your music. He had a special playlist just for your songs and songs you liked.Songs he thought 𝙮𝙤𝙪 would like too.
He basically carried a photocard of you everywhere. Jisung believes it brings him good luck. Which was a cute gesture but it did sound a bit silly
He didn't care at all. Even if it was silly, it kept him at ease. He liked it that way
You had to write a song for a special performance. It was to be the company's 50th birthday but you had no ideas. That's when Jisung came in
"I heard you were having trouble with song writing. I brought my son to help you. He is quite the song writer" Your boss smiled. You eyed Jisung curiously. This was all to sudden but time was running out. You allowed it.
Jisung on the other hand was a nervous wreck. He couldn't even focus without getting scared. You noticed this and decided to give him some space.
When you returned, the song was finished. You excitedly examined the lyrics. You were impressed to say the least. The lyrics naturally connected to you, as if they were your own
"Oh my- this is perfect Jisung. You really are a great song writer"
"Really? It's not dumb or anything...? "
"Not at all. It's so professional and well done. Good job"
You gave the male a quick but thoughtful hug. He hugged back. You were his favorite idol and he couldn't believe he got to be this close to you. It was a dream come true.
The song did extremely well. At the show, Jisung got a whole shoutout with his face on the big screen. He was embarrassed but glad. Glad he could help you out.
Felix
Felix found you through Tiktok. How? Well your MAMA performance was trending and it was practically every where. It was impossible for anyone not to see at least one edit.
Felix did watch MAMA and he knew about you. He has known for a while. But wasn't a fan. He just knew you were a popular idol. What he didn't know though, was how obsessed he would become.
Like Minho, Felix was mesmerized by how you dance. He imagined you were the best dancer he had ever watched. Felix would often practice your dances, simply for fun
Everything was for fun
Did he read the fan fictions? Well... No but yes. He did read them but only sometimes. And he only read the cute stuff. He was delusional at the thought of you. Just a cute fanboy
Felix absolutely loved your smile. He often called you a sunshine or something like that. He believes you bring sunlight and everything bright. Anyone could go blind even looking at you or that's what he thought.
Your voice. He was one of the fans who could listen to your voice for ages on end.
He was passionate about you. Talking about you just came naturally or even accidentally though he did feel embarrassed after rambling. He didn't want to seem annoying in front of his friends. It was hard to control.
Felix watched all the edits he could find. Any edit. Any meme. Any video. He would watch it. He enjoyed all the content fans made of you.
Like most, Felix had merchandise. All neatly organized and placed in his room. He didn't like misplacing any of it. Not because it was expensive. He just didn't need to loose anything. It was all important to him
Felix opened Tiktok one day. You posted a challenge. A challenge for a song that he was in love with. There wasn't one day he didn't think of this song. It didn't have any choreography ... Until now
So a challenge? He had to try it out!
After a few hours of practice and life regret, Felix memorized the dance. He joined on the challenge posting his version on Tiktok.
Felix knew the video was going to blow up but he didn't expect it to get him a deal with you
Now, the male was patiently sitting in your studio. A few staff members with him. You hurriedly entered the studio.
"Hello! So glad you could make it Felix"
"Uhm... It wasn't a problem but... Why am I here? "
"I need a dance partner. I saw your video giving a go at my challenge. You're perfect"
Felix tilts his head. He was curious about why she chose him but decided to learn that later on. Hey, he was given a deal to dance with someone he admired. Why not take it.
He worked really hard to learn all the dance steps and everything. With you of course. You were extremely helpful. Your smile had to be the best part of everything though. It was as bright as he thought.
The concert day has to have been the best though. The performance went really well. Felix became quite popular with your fans. Everyone was so supportive rather than jealous. It was the best day of his life. That day never left his mind. It definitely was something he'd never forget.
Seungmin
Seungmin isn't your biggest fan.
He does like your music. Your personality. Etc. He is definitely not a BIG fan of you
You were just an idol he was fond of
Seungmin had few amounts of merchandise. Again, he's just fond of you
Seungmin was captivated by your singing voice. That's what he first noticed. Nothing healed his heart more than your singing.
It was a melody he simply wouldn't get over. Seungmin, personally, sang himself. He actually was a trainee under your company too.
He'd often bump into you but it wasn't a huge deal. He saw you as any other idol in the company. Just a human with a big platform
You both often had a brief and quick interaction before moving on. Getting on with your own lives.
He was more normal about you than the others, obviously
The thing that changed though, was how much of a fan he was towards you
The company gave him a challenge to learn then sing a cover from the list that was provided
Alright, seems easy. He chose the hardest song. One of yours. Did he want to show off? Yes. Was it because he wanted to impress you? To an extent, definitely
The highnotes in the song are what he was ready for. He practiced. And practiced. And practiced some more.
Seungmin, like his other trainee peers, we're given the same challenge. One by one, they all perform their covers in front of the judges. The judges were honest. Really honest from what he heard. A girl ran back crying. Seungmins breath quickened and he lightly tapped his foot on the ground
He was anxious
His turn arrived. He stared at the judges, noticing you were there. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 up, he thought. The greetings and introductions ended. Now it was time for Seungmin to impress everyone (cough cough you)
The song reached its end. The room was quiet. The judges glanced at each other, with stunned expressions.
They all gave their feedback. The feedback was honest but decent. Your opinion was something that stuck with him forever though
"Well, that was my song and I haven't heard anyone sing it better than me. I'm actually so impressed Seungmin. I'm jealous. You have an angelic voice which I need on one of my songs. "
Everyone agreed and nod their heads
"When you debut, I'd love you to feature on some of my future music"
Seungmin left the company that day in a cheery mood. He couldn't believe one day you'd want to work on a song with him. Oh he was definitely going to learn as many of your songs as possible now.
Jeongin
Jeongin is definitely someone who keeps his love for you a personal thing
Only close friends knew about it
He liked it that way
Your fashion sense is something he is obsessed with. Jeongin is someone who takes time when it comes to dressing up. As soon as you mentioned, in an interview, that most of your stage outfits or general outfits are what you pick yourself. He could definitely relate
You dress like someone who cares about what you look like. Just like him.
You are an ambassador for a fashion brand after all. His seen plenty of ads in the mall or on the internet of you. He liked pointing them out in front of his friends
Jeongin thought you were sweet. Sweet like honey
He had no specific reason on why he wanted to know so much about you. Maybe it was his personal connection with you.
Or maybe he just wanted something to be attached to
Either way he was a big fan. Jeongin was simple about this whole thing. He felt happy when watching your content
He definitely was over protective about you though. He knows he shouldn't. It just sucks when someone comments a negative opinion. Of course, criticizing an idol is necessary for improvement. Though some take it too far. That's what pisses him off
Other than that, Jeongin is relaxed. Most of the time, especially in winter, he wears the same exact beanie. When asked about it, he doesn't really know how to answer but it is quite a story.
He attended a concert of yours. He was close to the stage which was just perfect. Of course, he brought friends with him. Friends that are fans as all.
Jeongin practically sang his heart out to every song. One of your more intense songs with a lot of energetic dances played. While dancing your beanie accidentally flew into the crowd. Luckily, Jeongin caught it.
The performance ended. You joked about the beanie flying off and asking if anyone caught it. Jeongins friends screamed in his direction bringing all the attention towards him.
A bright red paints on his face. The concert venue was dim. You hopefully couldn't see it. You laughed lightly noticing the shock in his face
"You know what. You can keep it"
Jeongin frantically shook his head insisting on you taking it back.
"Really, take it. You spent a whole ton of money just to see me sing and dance. It's the least I could do for such a cute fan"
Jeongin felt like passing out. One of his friends roughly shook him while the crowd screamed
He smiled at the thought, anytime he saw the piece of clothing. It was a wonderful experience. An experience he had to relive again.
◦•●◉✿♡✿◉●•◦
A/N: This has to have been the longest ass thing I've written so far. But I hope you enjoyed this little thing. Thanks soooo much for reading ♡♡
122 notes · View notes
fanfictionlibrary · 8 months
Text
Startling Nightmare (Alec x Reader)
The reader's appearance is not specified. Gender neutral Y/N.
A/N: Sooo... Make of this what you will. It just happened. Many things are left open for your interpretation. Please let me know what you think..(cries in self-consciousness)
Have fun and enjoy!
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Your heart pounded rapidly as your eyes shot open. A feeling of pressure remained in your ankles and feet, although you knew that that sensation couldn’t be real. Still, the pictures that had unfolded in front of your eyes a few seconds ago – sometimes idyllic but always foreboding, sometimes gruesome and inescapable – had carried over from the dream world into the actual world, leaving you with not only tingling feet but also with sweat grasping your body. Your forehead was clammy, and your pajama shirt clung to your skin. Usually, you sleep with a lot of clothes and a thick blanket. Otherwise, you get cold. But now was one of those rare times when all of it was too warm for comfort. 
You dared not to move. Usually, you do not mind nightmares. When you woke up, you laughed about them and giggled when you closed your eyes again, soaking up the rest of the night’s hours for more sleep. But this one… It had been so vivid, so dynamic, and disturbing that it invoked the need to be held by someone. You were not a person who liked to be held. You dealt with your stuff on your own. But not now. 
You called out his name faintly. Although you despised the emotions and memories that followed you like the shadows of a ghost. He had taken your dreams, after all, by bringing you to this cursed castle. You only dared to move your head to the side a little, limbs remaining under the blanket. A part of you was afraid that the woman from your dream would suddenly appear out of nowhere. Maybe hanging from the ceiling or clinging to one of the pillars of that stupid vampire’s four-poster bed. You were so grateful when you only found him. He was already standing next to the bed, keeping his distance. Either he had heard your heartbeat accelerating while you dreamed and had come immediately to see whether you were alright, or he had appeared like a flash of lightning – just without the light but instead like a looming shadow, tracing your every movement – when you had called his name. 
You couldn’t tell. Just like his sleepless immortality failed to grasp the concept of a dream, your human senses were fallible when it came to this marvelous being. He had gone too long without dreams. For him, only reality had remained. Sober and gloomy. Until you came… But you fought him with every ounce of blood in your body. The very source that had made him addicted to you in the first place. Until the addiction transformed from craving your blood into the encompassing sensation of unconditional love. But that transformation had only happened for him. You needed more time. You were not ready to love nor to be his. 
“Alec.” 
“Y/N.” He hovered at the edge of his bed. 
His bed. His room. His everything. But your boundaries. And he respected those. In fact, in the last few months, his room had become your safe place. Your things were scattered everywhere, but Alec did not mind. He gave you as much alone time and space as you needed, realizing that this was the least he could do after tearing you from your life. Alec was now often found in Jane’s room, much to the latter’s dismay. She was also very fond of her time alone, but the twins could be in the same room and not talk for hours or even days. 
You found yourself mulling again and again over the fact that Alec and Jane had never once called you out for needing so much alone time. Especially Alec was very understanding. He seemed to understand when you wore noise-canceling headphones, lying on the ground and staring out the window. A lot of people have called you absurd and abnormal for your behavior. So often that you were just waiting for someone to utter those words again. The past had made you believe that you were not deserving of kindness nor of being understood. So whenever someone said or did something nice to and for you, you questioned it endlessly, trying to decipher an ulterior motive that was not there. 
That made it so hard to trust Alec. To love him like he did you. Unconditionally, spiritually, and infinitely. 
“Did you have a nightmare?” Alec asked, a tremble going through his hand. But he didn’t act on it. He didn’t reach out to touch you. 
Despondent, you nodded. “Can… you…” The words died on your tongue. It was so hard to say them out loud. 
But Alec understood. “Of course, I can hold you. If you want?”
You nodded again. Slowly and cautiously, he got on the bed, the mattress sinking down. The presence of his weight was already comforting. But you needed more. He waited patiently, letting you decide how close you would be. You had a clear idea in your head. You placed a small pillow on his chest, and he held it in place. Then, you draped your blanket around your shoulders and back, climbing between his legs, rolling on your side as his arms engulfed you. You rested your head on the soft pillow. One of Alec's hands cradled your head. The other lay on your shoulder. Occasionally, it wandered down, drawing circles on your arm.   
 Now Alec was everywhere. You were caged by him. Lost in him. 
“What did you dream about?” he asked softly, pulling you closer to him. His legs drew together, his knees almost touching. Alec made you feel one hundred percent safe. But the dream… 
You could not ignore this one. Your dreams always had some kind of prescient quality. Not every dream, but some were hints pointing toward the future. There was some message in this dream, too. Impending doom and danger that might be prevented. Sometimes, you wondered whether those dreams would manifest themselves as a gift when you were going to be turned into a vampire. A week ago, the Kings had sent someone who could see whether a human would have a gift once they were transformed. That man could also see what kind of gift it would be. However, in your case, he could only see that you would have a gift. Nothing concrete formed in his mind. That was no surprise. Not even Aro’s gift worked properly on you. When he touched your skin, he could only see a few random pictures that originated from your mind, and although they were powerful, they were not especially telling about you as a person. 
Some pictures showed moments of your life. Most depicted… fantasies. Monsters. Dark colors. Light colors. Mountains not found on this planet. Stars. Vast oceans. You had always refrained from commenting on Aro when he wondered about your peculiar mind. You always had a very 'alive' imagination that seemed to be its own independent entity. It just so happened to have chosen your body as its vessel. There was no taming it. Only accepting and living with it.
Initially, you did not like the idea of becoming immortal. But the Volturi Kings had told you the rules. A human could not live with the knowledge of the supernatural world. Which meant death.
You had been fine with that. Anything but being stuck in a prison with powerful beings who hunted your kind. But Alec would not allow that. You had heated arguments, but eventually, he prevailed. Talking you through the advantages of being a vampire over and over again. Some discussions were pretty factual and rational on both sides. What convinced you eventually was not beauty or eternity. But you really wanted to have one of those high-functioning vampire brains. Imagine… The possibilities. The languages you could learn! You had already picked out a few that you had always wanted to study but did not have the time for. But if you put immortality into the equation… There was more than enough time. 
When you had told Alec that you were okay with becoming a vampire, he had breathed a sigh of relief. Although he didn’t need to. Naturally, he had inquired why you had changed your mind. The vampire smiled smugly when you told him, the corners of his mouth twisting with amusement. 
“You are a clever one, Y/N.” Alec chuckled. “There is no power as great as knowledge. Besides, you do not need more beauty. You are perfect as you are.” 
“Whoa… Tone the flirting down a little.” You rolled your eyes, sitting next to him on the sofa in the library where he was reading a book. 
“There is a difference between flirting and speaking the truth.” He kept his gaze on his book. 
“Stop it, charmer.” Your cheeks were glowing slightly.
Alec heard the rush of blood in your cheeks and smiled, satisfied. “Never. So, what languages?”
“Definitely French and Japanese.” 
“I can help you with French. Japanese… I know someone who might be able to teach you. You will only get the best teachers and books, of course.” 
“Splendid.” For the first time, Alec saw you smiling genuinely and brightly. So languages. You loved languages. He remembered that and your smile. Languages and telling stories. Those were your purposes. He knew there was nothing you were more passionate about. Just thinking and talking about it made your eyes glow, clouding him deeper and deeper in your enchanting presence. 
That passionate expression was a stark contrast to the dullness that had settled on your face now. It seemed like you had not heard him asking what you had dreamt about.
Or maybe you had, but you were so lost in your mind now you had forgotten he had asked a question. 
“Y/N,” he called out softly, brushing your temple. You jumped, startled. Ahh… you had indeed wandered into the most remote corners of your enigmatic brain. It often happened. “What did you dream about?”
 “Do you perhaps know a woman with black hair and yellow eyes? Yellow cat-like eyes?”
Alec frowned. “What do…” But the words died in his throat. He did know a woman with black hair and cat-like eyes. Her eyes were not exactly yellow. They were an intermediate form between brown and yellow. “Tell me more,” he said instead. 
“So you do know someone like that.”
“Yes. Her coven drinks animal blood. What happened in your dream?”
“Well.” You paused. “Buckle up, Sir, as we dive deep into the human subconscious. This will be a ride unlike any you have ever seen before. Hooray..."
"So," you began, "at the beginning of my dream, we both were swimming in the sea near a small harbor. We were both wearing clothes. And were still dry. But dreams don’t ever make sense. So, I wouldn’t bother about that detail too much. Anyway, that woman suddenly appeared next to us. Her skin was grey and looked unhealthy. She stared at us, but we didn’t mind her. So we left the water, walking on a lane that connected a park to its city.
"The woman followed us. We turned to the city, and she went toward the park. Strangely enough, I talked to her, and we smiled at each other. Somehow, she looked normal then. Lovely, even. Beautiful skin and bronze hair. Warm eyes. We parted ways with her, following the sandy road to the city. Suddenly, while we walked, I felt pressure on my feet. I looked down, staring at them. They were covered in blood. Something was sticking out of them. Something that did not belong there. Startled, we turned to our side. The woman was back: grey skin, yellow eyes, long black, sleek hair. Smiling sadistically again. She tricked us, making us believe she was friendly. And when we weren’t looking, she attacked from behind. The scary thing is, you didn’t see any of it coming. You didn't hear her approach.” 
Alec remained silent. “I know her.”
“She loves you. She is obsessed,” you noted flatly. “You have history.” 
“Yes, but that’s nothing for you to worry about.” He kissed the top of your head. “I was never interested in her. I will see if she poses a threat.” 
“I don’t quite believe I have nothing to worry about.” You shook your head. “My dream told me you weren’t worrying enough.” 
“But now I am aware of her. I won’t take this dream lightly. I know that you have some kind of gift.” 
“Another thing.” You sat up, staring deep into his eyes. 
“What is it?” Alec tensed when you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck. He quickly relaxed, however. Enjoying your warm breath on his cold skin. “We have met before. Haven’t we?” 
“Yes.” Pained, Alec nodded. 
“In another life.” You kissed his jaw, face returning to the crook of his neck. “Before the dream I just described, there was another sequence of events. It was shorter. But I was there. I was not from this life. But from another. And the woman was there, too.” 
The vampire’s arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer. He crossed his legs, caging you even more. “Yeah, in that life I lost you to her. And it will not happen again.” 
“How many years ago was it?” 
Alec chuckled. “Y/N, darling. Think bigger. We are talking about centuries. 1245, to be exact. But you were a young man then. A poet. Dashing and courageous.” 
"I’m glad to be back.” 
“Glad.” Alec spat the word out. “That does not even come close to describing how I feel. It is hard to put into words. I’m sure you can find the right words. After all, you are talented with them.”
“It feels like a dead planet was revived by hope and hope alone after experiencing armageddon. As if all the puzzle pieces of the world have connected to build their one true form. As if the past, present, and future have morphed into one entity to give birth to an endless golden summer. It feels like…”
“You.” Alec breathed. “Just like you. And that is enough.” 
“You…” You smiled. “Yes. You.”
Alec was about to swear that he would never leave your side from now on. Even if it annoyed you. But then he felt your slow heartbeat and even breaths. You had fallen asleep. Here, in his arms. 
“It feels like me, too. Like you and me.” Alec closed his eyes, imagining a dream.
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trumpkinhotboy · 9 months
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Nick Nelson would be the best big brother on motherfrigginearth (and this is also something I’m ready to fight about 😤😤)
He has never, EVER been ashamed of you. As siblings, you never went through that weird and mean phase of disliking and annoying the shit out of each other. You always headed to school together, joking around as you did. He always waved enthusiastically when he saw you at the gates of Truham waiting for him, and he loves to bump your shoulder or ruffle your hair before you head to Higgs.
You always make it a priority to spend quality time together. Going on little hiking adventures with Nellie and whatnot. You also love to help him practice for his rugby matches. It most likely (always) ends up in a wrestling match and even though it seems your brother is getting bigger as days go by, you still have enough skills to give him a hard time. Of course, it goes without saying that you go to all of his games. Never afraid to be the one to shout the loudest. You also really like to have little sleepovers/movie nights together. You bundle on the couch with Nellie and a ton of blankets and bicker for approximately 10 minutes on which film you should watch before you come to an agreement. Your mother often joins you and you spend the evening, just the three of you, all cuddled up. Those usually are your favorites.
When you’re upset, he’s always the one who knows how to handle it best. Either by lending a safe ear so you could share your problems or by helping you find the best solutions. Either way, he's always incredibly gentle and caring. You know how lucky you are to have a brother like him. Especially when you look at your oldest brother, David (ugh).
He‘s also incredibly protective of you. When you come back home crying he cradles you in his arms, gently stroking your hair, and deeply sighing before he asks: "Alright, who do I have to kill?". That usually makes you smile and giggle a bit, that’s when he asks if you'd like to get something to eat and talk about it. But on days when that phrase doesn't make you laugh, he knows it's serious and the overprotective big brother in him takes the stage. He'd spend the night making sure you're okay and feeling safe and comforted. On the next day, when he actually sees the person who's been giving you such a hard time, he’d make sure they know he does not like them at all and will not hesitate to act if needed.
But most importantly he's your biggest fan and you are his. So when he finally told you that Charlie was his boyfriend… it was one of the happiest moments of your life.
He had knocked on your door twice before you told him to come in. He opened the door, and as soon as your eyes met you knew something was up. He kept looking at the ground, his gaze darting from the posters on your wall to your mirror, your bookcase, everywhere, but your face.
"Hey, what's up?" you asked, putting down your book to focus on him.
"Hey, kiddo. Am I botherin' you?"
You shake your head no and gently tap a spot on your bed while you shuffle to the side to give him some space. He gives you a small smile before sitting down, your old bed creaking audibly loud as he does so.
"Alright, uhm, so. There's something I'd like to talk to you about."
You normally would have slipped in a joke or two, but his expression was just so serious. You noticed his voice had a slight tremor in it. You kept to yourself, focusing entirely on him.
"Sure, what's going on?"
He brought his knees up to loosely wrap his arms around them before starting.
"Well, you know there are quite a few things that have changed for me this year. With school, Harry, Imogen, and uh… meeting Charlie of course." You nod, encouraging him to continue. "It hasn't always been easy. All this change has made me question a lot of stuff, and even discover new things about me."
"Yes, but there has been good stuff, right? Meeting Charlie has basically been amazing for you. You've stopped hanging out with those asshats so much, and you got to meet his amazing friend group right?" you reach for his arm. He looks so nervous, you feel completely thrown off. Nick is known to be pretty confident and chill. You just want him to feel better, and be back to his usual happy self.
At the mention of his friends, he does seem to loosen up a bit and smile before looking at you.
"Yeah, you're right. This has been amazing for me and, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Uhm, I guess you could say things have changed between Charlie and I. We uh…"
"Oh Nick what did you do?" you straightened up immediately. This made sense, he probably had a falling out with him and was now feeling completely down and sad about it. "Charlie is soo cool. I swear if you've done anything to mess that up I'll whoop your ass."
"Hey! Why would you assume I've done anything??" he questioned, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.
"Because Charlie is way too caring and amazing to do anything wrong." You crossed your arms on your chest before resting on your headboard. The look of disapproval on your face only seemed to make your brother's smile grow larger.
"He is pretty amazing isn't he?"
"He definitely is. I love Charlie," you grunted. "All right now, spit it out. What did you do, if it's not too horrible, I’m sure we can find a way to fix it."
He turned a bit more so that you would be facing each other.
"Y/n, we didn't have a falling out. We… Charlie is my boyfriend.
Time stood still for a second, the weight of his declaration still hanging in the air.
"Charlie is your what."
"He's my… boyfriend?" he said once more, panic slowly invading his chest like an unbearable weight. Dread overtook him. Dread and something else, the feeling of his heart skipping a beat. You, his person, really? You wouldn’t be okay with that?
You stayed paralyzed, in shock. Your mouth slightly open. He was about to finally break the silence when you jumped on him, squealing like a crazy person.
"NICOLAS NELSON, I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU." He hugged you back with all his might, feeling so incredibly relieved. Relieved to have told you, but more than anything else, relieved that you were still you. His person, the only person in the world he knew would always accept and love him unconditionally. "I want to know EVERYTHING. Oh my god, I can't wait to see Charlie!!!! You little rats!!!”
He gave you that big old smirk of his, he seemed on top of the world, and that warmed your heart.
"So you're happy for me?" he asked carefully, a faint shadow of uncertainty still dancing in his eyes.
You grabbed his face into your hands “You deserve this so much Nick. You don't even understand how happy I am for you.”
And then you hugged again, both squealing like idiots before you invited Charlie over for an impromptu sleepover where you spent most of the night hearing every detail about how they came to be a couple. Everytime Nick would see you interact with Charlie his heart would skip a beat or feel like it might explode. This time, because it couldn’t seem to contain all the happiness he was feeling. That's when Charlie and you were suddenly tackled to the ground by Nick's heavy body.
"Oh my god, Nick you're crushing us!!!" screamed Charlie, laughing as he did. To what your brother simply answered, "Oh shut up and just let me hug my two favorite people in the world in peace."
YOU CAN’T TELL ME YOU DON’T SEE IT !!! C'MON !!!!
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gilbirda · 4 months
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Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 22
BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz
[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]
Based on this post
First chapter || << Previous chapter || Next chapter >>
---
“Forgive the mess,” Jason murmured as he carried Jazz into the room. “They did leave everything just like I left it, huh.”
Jazz lifted her head from its hiding place in the crook of Jason’s neck. She didn’t expect to be carried in his arms, and even if she should find it funny given how she got injured in the first place, she couldn’t deny it made her heart flutter a bit.
Jason’s childhood room was… what you’d expect from a teenager. It wasn’t messy, but clutter was everywhere — books, comics, more books and what she assumed was a handheld gaming device. Her eyes roamed over the Wonder Woman posters and pictures on the wall, spying a signature in a big one placed safely far from the window and sunlight.
Jason had always been a nerd.
She giggled.
“Cute.” She said, rubbing her cheek against his when he blushed.
“‘m not cute.” He contested halfheartedly. He huffed softly and walked closer to the bed, letting her down on the mattress. “Cass left some clothes for you.” he reached for the neatly folded pajamas and handed them to her. “Do you need help, or…?”
Jazz rolled her eyes. “I have a twisted ankle, I’m not unable to dress myself.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it, I’ll change in the bathroom.” He walked towards the drawers, opened one and cursed.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was fifteen years old when I last stepped into this room,” he pulled something from the drawer to show her, “and I was a small child.”
Jazz tried really hard to contain her laughter, but the tiny rock band t-shirt over his broad chest was just hilarious. She threw back her head and gave a hearty laugh, not worrying about if he saw her fangs for once.
He chuckled with her, turning back to check the rest of the drawers, rummaging around for a bit.
“Nothing?” She asked softly.
“Nope. And I’m not going to go back out and ask for clothes if I don’t really—” He stopped in his tracks, his cheeks blooming a bit of a blush.
Jazz picked up what he didn’t say. “Do you usually sleep naked?”
She watched his shoulders tense and how he consciously relaxed them before answering. “Yeah. Or just with some boxers or shorts on.” He pointedly wasn’t looking at her.
Okay.
Jazz hummed, controlling her thoughts and what to say. Was this one of those situations she had to be careful to navigate? She didn’t want to send the wrong signals and make the situation more uncomfortable than it needed to be — she knew he was not happy with their sleeping arrangements and Bruce’s pushiness was not welcomed.
“I don’t mind if you want to sleep in your underwear.” First step: vocalize. Don’t leave things unsaid, since not-saying things usually lead to misunderstandings, as she had come to learn.
Jason turned with a confused frown, finally looking at her in the eyes. “Okay?”
“Yeah. It’s okay.” Second: appear calm and collected, safe to be around. “It doesn’t bother me.”
She fiddled with the soft fabrics of the provided pajamas, distracting her hands as she waited for his reaction. What was he thinking? Did he consider this as her making some kind of move? They were going to share a bed for the first time, and she was trying very hard not to feel too self conscious about that fact.
“If you say so…” He finally nodded and walked closer to the desk on the other wall, picking up his stuff from his pockets — keys, wallet and phone — and placing it next to a book pile.
Jazz took this as her cue and picked up the pajamas, quickly hopping towards the ensuite bathroom before Jason caught her and told her she shouldn’t walk on her injured foot. When he finally realized she had made a run for it, she had already closed the door.
Jason dramatically sighed, making her giggle.
She made quick work of the clothes and put on Cass' pajamas, admiring how they flowed over her skin. She suspected some kind of silk blend, but didn’t recognize the brand; not that she expected to recognize it, since she always bought clothes on sale and never worried about stuff like if they were in season or their fabric blends.
She splashed her face with cold water, noticing that the soap brand name was French and with fancy letters. She knew the Waynes were filthy rich, but she guessed that it kind of took a second place in her mind the whole evening. She was more focused on making a good first impression.
Jazz finished getting ready for bed and walked back into the room, her folded clothes in one hand, and hopped towards the same desk Jason left his things. On top of the book pile was Mansfield Park.
“Interesting literature for a fifteen year old.” She picked it up, opening it in a random page, admiring the same sticky notes and annotations she had seen in the books he kept at the apartment, confirming he had always been such a nerd.
“Austen is hilarious,” Jazz could hear the shrug in his voice, “what can I say.”
She put the book back down and turned, finding her boyfriend watching her with those intense blue eyes. He was sitting on the bed, but hadn’t gotten under the covers, opting to rest against the headboard to comfortably watch her every move.
Was he trying to make her self conscious on purpose?
“What?” She confronted him.
“Nothing.” He quickly said. Too quickly.
When he didn’t add anything else, she shrugged and hopped towards the free side of the bed. If he didn’t want to comment on it, she wasn’t going to push the topic. If this was about being self conscious about sharing a bed, or about his nakedness, he didn’t have anything to prove or worry about.
Also, she was very sleepy. Whatever it was, it could wait until morning.
Of course, the bed was gigantic and very comfortable, a wild contrast to her shitty single back at the apartment. Maybe she should invest in a good bed, like she did with her couch.
She turned on her side, careful to not upset her injured ankle, and smiled at Jason, the “good night” on the tip of her tongue.
“Do you…”
“Hm?” She encouraged when he stopped.
Jason cleared his throat and tried again: “Do you not… find me attractive?”
Oh.
Hm.
It was time for that conversation? Well, not the time she would have picked, given that they were sharing a bed in his childhood room; but it is true that one does not pick where conversations happened.
Jazz shuffled around so she was sitting against the headboard too, and picked the hand that was closer to her. She played with his fingers for a moment, admiring how rough his palms were — vaguely remembering when she thought he was an athlete — thinking how she was going to approach this.
“Do you know what an asexual person is?” She tested the waters.
She saw him nod in the corner of her eye. “Yeah. Some of the working girls at the Alley once explained to me.” Jazz nodded. This would make it simpler. “Are you that? Ace?”
Jazz hummed, tilting her head. “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Never actually cared about labeling things. I just know that there are things others care about that I don’t.”
“So you never…?”
“Being ace and having sex are not mutually exclusive.” She finally looked up at him. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but his intense blue eyes made her blush and look away. “But no. I haven’t slept with anybody before.”
“Not interested?”
His voice was soft. And didn’t let her guess what he thought about it.
Jazz wasn’t going to lie, she had never considered that her lack of experience in sex, or lack of interest whatsoever, could become an issue in their relationship. She wasn’t looking for a relationship in the first place, so she didn’t plan for the scenario that her partner thought her disinterest in sex would be a dealbreaker.
Would it be for Jason?
“I don’t know,” she admitted out loud. “I’ve never— I was always too busy, and investing time in something I don’t actually need always felt like a waste of effort.”
He snorted. “Nerd.”
“But it’s true!” She giggled, letting her shoulders relax. She resumed playing with his hand. “It’s not that I wouldn’t have sex, ever; but more like I don’t… care? Sexual attraction was never in my priority list when looking for a partner.”
He hummed, considering her words.
“But I guess if you are interested I wouldn’t mind it? If it’s with you it’s fine.” She shrugged. She knew there were names and labels for the nuances of how she regarded sexuality, but she didn’t research a lot. Once she understood what she felt was normal and had a term, it was enough for her.
He gently dislodged his hand from her to move his arm around her shoulders, trapping her into a half hug, and squishing her face against his naked chest. She placed a hand on the skin, admiring how warm he was, and vaguely tracing a few of the scars she found there. Mostly healed cuts and barely visible scratches, but she spied a gunshot wound closer to his shoulder.
“That’s enough for me.” He finally said, his voice rumbling in her ear. “And if that changes let me know.”
Warmth bloomed in her chest, making her cheeks burn and her eyes water. Any worry she managed to amass since the conversation started had completely vanished, washed away by those simple words. Fearing rejection over something so simple felt silly after what they have already been through, but the confirmation that he cared hit her like a freight train.
“For the record,” Jazz said, her voice a bit choked from emotion, “I do find you very attractive.”
He squeezed her a little, his soft chuckles vibrating under his skin. “Of course, I’m such a catch.”
“A complete snack.” She smiled up at him.
“A straight up hottie.”
Both giggled, faces close. Jazz was leaning more onto Jason, relishing on his warmth — seriously, this man was a furnace — shuffling a little bit so she could reach his lips.
They kissed softly, not really in a hurry to take things anywhere else.
“I’ve been wanting to do that the whole afternoon.” He said when they parted.
Jazz smiled, readjusting herself so she could kiss him more comfortably, grabbing his hair with her free hand. “Me too.” She said against his lips. “You look so cute when you are annoyed.”
“I’m not cute.” He bit her lower lip. “And you should warn me the next time you go all Dracula on me.”
Jazz groaned and moved away, back to her place under the covers, flustered. “I already said I’m sorry!”
He followed, also getting under the blankets so he could pull her body closer to his chest, successfully trapping her in his arms.
“Just saying, if you need to bite someone I’m game but I need to be mentally prepared.”
He was ready for her fight to get out of his arms, so he trapped her lips when she turned to retaliate. Jazz made angry noises against his lips, but eventually caved and kissed him back, relaxing a little.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
And she really didn’t, she thought, deciding to drop the topic and let herself be distracted by what he could do with his mouth.
***
Saturday morning in Wayne manor was peaceful. Jason was having shapeless dreams he wouldn’t remember when he woke up, comfortable in the warmth provided by the body in his arms.
And then that peace and quiet was completely shattered.
“What the hell?”
Jason opened his eyes, already cursing himself for sleeping so deeply he didn’t detect the presence in the room.
“I haul my ass as fast as I can because of a worrying and cryptic message,” the voice continued, getting angrier and louder as he spoke, “to find you like— Like— ugh!”
“Danny?” Jazz sat up on the bed, rushing to get out of the covers.
“And he’s naked. Great.”
Jason tried to make his brain work, but it felt like it had been replaced with cotton. He reached for the night table, but of course he didn’t have his knife. Because this wasn’t his apartment. Right. They were at the Manor.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was when I couldn’t find you?” Jason turned to look at the new person, finding Jazz's brother standing there. He was shorter than he expected, and also scrawnier. “I thought— Jazz, do you know where you are exactly?”
“Danny—” She stood up, yelped, and immediately fell back to the bed.
“What happened?” He pointed at her very obviously bandaged foot.
“I fell.”
Danny looked unimpressed. He raised one eyebrow. “And it hasn’t healed?”
“It’s a long story.” Jazz sighed, turned towards Jason. “He is—”
“You know what? I’m not awake enough for this.” The brother interrupted, raising his arms to make a statement. “See you downstairs.”
With that, Danny stomped towards the bedroom door, walked outside and stomped down the hallways without caring about closing the door behind him.
A few tense seconds passed.
“Charming.”
Jazz huffed. “He’s not usually that cranky.” She stretched her arms over her head, sighing. “I guess it’s time to face the music.”
Jason nodded and told her to wait on the bed as he got dressed again.
Weird. Last night he felt like his skin was going to burst when he got undressed, waiting for Jazz to come out of the bathroom. Maybe it was the conversation they had, or maybe it was how easy things became when Jazz was with him; but right then he couldn’t see how sharing a bed with her managed to make him so nervous. It felt silly and childish to care about something like that, especially when he had been intimate with people before.
Jazz felt different. Like he had more to lose. He already had decided he would do and would be whatever she needed and if that meant not ever sleeping together he was ready to accept it.
He knew the conversation wasn’t over regarding the topic, and he had a million more questions, but they could wait for when they weren’t about to walk down for breakfast in his childhood home.
Once he was ready, he picked Jazz up in his arms like the previous night, enjoying her red cheeks and sneaking kisses just because he could.
She mostly stayed put, but right before he made the turn towards the kitchen, she grabbed his head and pulled him down for a deeper kiss, her tongue teasing his lips briefly before she let him go.
“Whatever happens,” she whispered, “please remember I'm the same person.”
Huh. Ominous.
The kitchen was the same as it always was — Alfred's personal haven, where he only allowed the worthy to enter or even assist with cooking.
Right then, the old man watched, entranced, as Danny made wide gestures and huffed and paced around the enormous kitchen, one of Tim's gigantic coffee cups in hand.
“ — and I told him he could shove it where the sun doesn’t shine!” Danny took a sip of the coffee. He looked stressed and not really aware of his surroundings. He probably just picked a cup and got absorbed into his monologue. “But guess what, there’s no sun in the Realms! So he just looked at me like I was an idiot!”
Alfred hummed, a smile teasing his lips.
“I know right?” Danny grumbled, looking at his cup. “Hey do you have a refill, Mr… oh crap I forgot to ask for your name.”
“Alfred Pennyworth, mister.”
“Alfred.” The young man nodded enthusiastically. “Very british. I’ll remember that.”
Someone snorted, coming in from behind Jazz and Jason frozen at the door. This made Danny turn towards his new audience, grimacing when he saw his sister in Jason’s arms.
“You!” He shouted, pointing a finger at his sister.
“Me.” She answered, letting Jason place her on one of the stools at the big kitchen island.
Danny stomped towards the other side of the island.
“You!” He growled. “Don’t you ever do this to me again!” He slammed the empty coffee cup on the marble surface. Miraculously the porcelain didn’t even crack. “I thought another crazy billionaire had kidnapped you to make you fight me to the death, and I find you canoodling with this— this— this guy!!”
Jason didn’t even take offense. The display was entertaining enough. Also, what was that about “another” crazy billionaire kidnapping Jazz? To fight to the death?
“Hello Danny.” Jazz said calmly. “As I was trying to tell you before, this is Jason,” she made a gesture towards him, but didn’t tear her eyes from her brother, “and he’s my boyfriend.”
The younger man’s face went through the five stages of grief in a matter of seconds. His eyes flashed green for a moment, before he closed them and swallowed. When he opened them again, he was glaring at Jason instead.
“Jazz.”
“Yeah?” She answered, giving her thanks to Alfred when he placed a fresh cup in front of her.
Jason accepted his own cup, vaguely registering Dick taking a seat next to him. Or Bruce choosing to become as invisible as he could and shuffle around the kitchen toward where Alfred observed the showdown from a safe distance.
“Jasmine.”
“Daniel.” She sipped her cup, grimacing a bit. She wasn’t a huge fan of coffee. “Hey, did you bring my medicine?”
Still glaring, he reached inside his chest, casually pulling out a little white box. There was something made of glass inside clinking when he slid it across the island for Jazz to catch. When she opened it, six fresh vials of Lazarus Waters glowed inside.
“Six?” She noticed. “They look really good.”
“Had a good batch this time.” He nodded, his glare losing intensity under the praise. But immediately glared at Jason again as if remembering he was supposed to be mad. “And don’t change the topic.”
“What topic?” Jazz ignored her brother while she picked one of the vials, uncorked it and poured the contents in her cup.
Jason crossed stares with Bruce, speechless as both watched Jazz drink the whole thing in one go. She made a face.
“It’s better with tea.”
“Oh don’t you start.”
“Start what?” She winced. Her eyes started glowing a bright green. She looked in pain for a moment, but as quickly as it came, it was gone.
“Jazz.”
“Danny.” She checked her cup was empty, turning it upside down over her waiting open mouth. A few drops fell on her tongue.
The younger brother slammed his hands on the marble. “Stop ignoring me!” He complained. “And explain yourself. What’s with Mr Muscles over there? What the hell have you been doing?”
Jazz softly placed the cup on the island. She folded her hands, and finally looked at her brother. “I told you. He’s my boyfriend.”
“Jazzy, Jazzy, we talked about this,” Danny grabbed his hair in despair. “You have terrible taste in men.”
“Excuse me?”
“Is this going to be like Johnny? Is that it? A bad boy with a motorcycle and leather jacket makes eyes at you and that’s all it takes?” Danny glanced at Jason. “No offense.”
“None taken.” He wasn’t sure he was supposed to speak, but did anyway. Danny was hilarious.
Dick choked on his coffee.
“He’s not like Johnny.” Jazz defended herself. “Jason is—”
“Or maybe like the other one?” Danny interrupted. “What’s-his-name— David! Yeah. Is this a repeat of that one?”
It was Jazz’s time to slam her hands on the marble. “He is not like him!”
Danny bristled, a soft hissing sound blooming in his throat. “Are you sure? Because that one— what was the report? Dislocated shoulder and a shattered hand?”
“I told you I didn’t need your help!” Jazz bristled as well, exposing her fangs in an angry hiss. “And he is not the same!”
“That’s what you said the last time!!” Somehow Danny became taller. Was he floating? His pitch black hair moved like hit by an invisible breeze, too. “No offense.”
Jason didn’t know if he should laugh or intervene. “None taken.” He assured again, controlling his smile.
“And you the one to talk?!” Jazz’s hands tensed. “Should we talk about your horrible taste in women? Huh?”
“Don’t you—!”
“Paulina!”
“It was in highschool!” Danny growled. “What are you—”
“Valerie!” She growled back. The sound wasn’t animalistic, but still not quite human. Jason had never heard something like that, even less coming from the chest of his sweet girlfriend.
“What about her!”
“She tried to kill you!”
“But she never succeeded!” Danny bared his fangs. “And we are cool now!”
What was even happening?
“Sam!”
“Hey!”
“She killed you!” Jazz’s hair started to float, too, right the moment her eyes glowed green again. “Twice!”
That was apparently going too far. Danny’s growl escalated to a full on roar, his body now floating closer to the ceiling. They could see his tapered ears and sharp fangs on full display.
Jazz glared at him from her seat, her hair rising and falling on beat with her heavy breathing; fangs bared and clawed hands raised, ready to fight her own brother. She opened her arms and exposed her chest, making Jason wonder what was about to happen.
In a blink of an eye, all hostility was gone from Danny as he floated towards his sister faster than the human eye could follow — one moment he was on the other side of the island and close to the tall ceiling, and the next he was hugging his sister like his life depended on it.
“I missed you.” His voice was choked and muffled, but the emotion in it was obvious.
“I know.” Jazz circled her arms around Danny like it was the most natural thing in the world. She pressed him tight against her body, her head on top of his, rubbing her cheek against his hair. “I missed you too.”
Everyone held their breaths, waiting to see what Danny would say, but the young man was out cold. Soft snores resonated in the otherwise silent kitchen.
Jazz cleared her throat. Her smile was radiant and warm, like they usually were, as she turned to look at Jason. “Can I put him in your room? He will probably nap for a few more hours.”
Dazzled, Jason just nodded and watched as she hopped down the stool on her — previously — injured ankle and quickly made her exit from the kitchen while easily carrying her brother.
Bruce cleared his throat when they stopped hearing her soft steps. “So…”
“Yeah.” Jason licked his lips and decided to take a sip of his own cup of coffee. It was lukewarm. “That’s, uh... That’s her brother.”
He looked down to where Jazz slammed her hands, finding a crack on the marble. It wasn’t enough to compromise the structure, but it wasn’t small either.
Choosing not to bring attention to that fact, he just sipped his coffee and ignored the barrage of questions from the others. It wasn’t like he knew the answers anyway.
---
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witchykittyy · 3 months
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Agreement 💖
@marcyyywukinnie asked: Hi could you make a fanfic Yandare Blitzo x reader x Yandare Stolas where they just fight about reader, before coming to terms that theyll share them??
I am soooooooo sorry about how late this is!!! I really am. Life's been really hectic and I went through a very depressive episode but I promise to be on top of stuff more often! I really hope you like it! ❤ Sorry if its not really enough fighting per say. 😅
TW: Demons, Hell, Blood, Arguing, Cursing (lots of it), Mentions of kidnapping, Stalking, and other yandere themes.
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"Damn that was a fuck ton of clients!!!" Millie jumped up into Moxxie's arms pumped and covered in blood. "Yea it was and it was so fucking awesome! But I think imma head in for the night." You're the newest member of I.M.P. A few days ago you saw their help wanted poster and decided you needed the extra money so you decided to join. You got along really well with Moxxie, Millie and surprisingly Loona. The only person who doesn't seem to like you is Blitzo. He was always staring at you. Watching your every move like he's waiting for you to do something wrong. So you always tend to keep your distance.
"Yea I think me and Millie have had enough excitement for today as well. Goodbye sir! Goodbye Y/N!" "Bye Blizto! Bye N/N!" Moxxie and Millie wave goodbye as they leave. "Whatever, bye." Loona continues on reading her magazine. "Bye guys!" You wave goodbye to them sweetly. "Bye lovebirds! Don't get too kinky while I'm away!" You can almost hear Moxxie rolling his eyes at those words and you chuckle. Now its just you, Loona and... Blitzo. Though your back is turned you can feel his eyes burning into info our skin, its very unsettling so with out turning around you decided to say your goodbyes and leave. "Bye Blitzo! Bye Loona!" "Bye dork." Blitzo doesnt say anything and you start to walk off sill feeling his gaze on you. Suddenly he says "See you soon Y/N"
You got home and were extremely exhausted as you flopped down onto your semi comfortable bed. Due to only recently having a job you dont have that much money to buy yourself a nice place so for right now you're stuck in this crummy apartment. Even though you didnt mind your situation someone else did.
Stolas has been watching you from the day he saw you in the I.M.P headquarters while he was visiting Blitzo. He's been obssessed with you ever since he saw you and has stalked you finding out your likes, habits, dislikes and everything else about you. He truly believes that you deserve so much better than what you have. He loves you and believes you deserve to be treated like a queen. A problem with that is that Blizto is also in love with you. Stolas notices the stares he give you and the longing look in his eyes. He's sure Blitzo has noticed his interest as well and thats probably why Blitzo hasnt spoken to him. But nevermind that.
You change into your PJ', get into bed and start scrolling through Helltok. "Ah shit its getting dark and I have to work tomorrow" you sigh. "I guess I should go to bed as Moxxie would say thats the responsible thing to do." You turn off your phone and go to bed. Stolas stares at you from the window wishing that he were next to you.
After a while he sees someone climbing onto your balcony. He's about to go stop him but then the two lock eyes. "Stolas?! The fuck are you doing here?!" He almost tumbles off the balcony from the surprise. "I should be asking you the same question Blitzo." "Look dipshit im doing the same thing you are but going inside." Blizto starts opening the window. "Wait! We shouldnt do that it invading her privacy." He goes to stop him but then Blitzo slaps his hand away. "Oh and stalking her isnt invading her privacy?! Look just leave ok if you dont wanna do this. Not like I want you stealing my girl anyways." He grumbles the last part but Stolas is able to hear him. "Well I sure as hell am not leaving her alone with you." "Then come in with me." He grabs Stolas's hand and stealthly brings him into the room. Stolas blushes at the sudden contact. 'Wait why'd he blush? What the hell is happening to him?'
You're dead asleep on the bed. "So smart ass what do we do now?" He tries to cover up the fact that grabbing Blitzo's hand made him blush. "We look around bird brain." They start looking around the crummy place, dodging the clothes thrown on the floor. Eventually after looking around for a while Blitzo decides to look your computer as Stolas watches you sleep peacefully. Out of the corner of his eye Stolas sees him breaking into your computer. "Hey!" He yells silently. "What do you think you're doing?" "I'm looking through her computer dipshit." Blitzo rolls his eyes as though its obvious. "Well yes I know that but why?" "To make sure she ain't seeing some other loser."
Blitzo searches and suddenly stops dead in his tracks. "You need to see this birdie." They stare at the computer reading you're messages with some guy named Dennis. "Oh hell no" they growl out in unison. You whine and shift in your sleep as they go dead silent. Once they're sure you're not awake they continue. "We can't let this shit happen." Blitzo growls with malice. "I completely agree. This dirt bag isn't good enough for our Y/N." Stolas nods. "Wait, our?" "Well yes I suppose we'll need to team up to stop this guy and ensure that she stays with us. Is that an ok arrangement?" Stolas questions. "Yea.. Thatd be great." Blitzo looks down blushing madly.
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