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teeth-farie · 10 months

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Forty Year Old Virgin

Johnathon Ohnn/GN Reader

Notes: virginity, null spot, hole fingering, dry humping, clothed sex, kinda tribadism, spit, alcohol, spot being pathetic, 3.5k

☞. . . Seems like I’m back from my little hiatus!! I actually started writing this fic yesterday and it’s the FASTEST I’ve ever finished one. I blame the spot server I’m in

Johnathon Ohnn is thirty-eight years old. He knows this because he always liked celebrating his birthday, even if they got less eventful over the years. He still enjoyed the candles and the cake, he still enjoyed how his family would come together to sing for him and how his coworkers would sign a group card.

Johnathon was thirty-seven when the collider exploded. He didn’t realize his birthday had passed until he looked at a calendar. And really, how pitiful was that? No candles, no cake, not even a sloppily signed card. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much he craved normality.

It wasn’t long after that he met you, significantly younger and full of spunk. It made him feel a little youthful again, like he was back in that old dorm room at the shiny age of twenty. Admittedly he didn’t do as many fun things as you did at his age, he mostly studied and contemplated taking Adderall to get through his finals, but he digressed.

But observing you made him realize just how many things he missed out on during his youth. Sure, he sneaked a couple of his dad's beers as a teen and broke some college lab equipment he wasn’t supposed to be touching, rebellious things like that, but that wasn’t truly living.

Before, he thought his accomplishments would speak for him; his doctorates and files of studies, his collider. But now, as he watches and listens to the dramatic reenactments of your late teenage hood and early adult life, Johnathon begins to realize maybe science isn’t the end all be all of his life. He realizes that he never went to any parties in college, he never had a quarrel-filled romance his parents disapproved of, he never traveled outside of the country aside from work—and as his eyeless gaze flits downwards, taking in the sight that is you in incredibly short shorts, he realizes another thing.

He’s never had sex, either.

It’s not that he didn’t want to have sex, because he really desperately did, it’s more like he never got the chance. Between his academics that shot straight to the workforce and his lack of genuine attraction to anyone around him, it got put on the back burner.

But now it’s all he can think about.

He thinks about it when he watches your hands gesture wildly, the way they look so agile yet sturdy. He thinks about it when your shirts are low cut or rising up your midriff. He thinks about it when you stand close to him and all he can smell is you. He thinks about it when your hips shimmy to a song you like. He thinks about it when-

Ahem.

He thinks. A lot.

Johnathon has never had a quiet mind, that much is true. He’s never figured out whether or not it was a good thing, but considering how much material his brain has given him for lonely nights, it can’t all be bad.

Well. That was before the collider blew his dick clean off too. Which was another thing on his long long list of ‘Is living still worth it? I’m not too sure.’ (Except now he finally has a pro on that list, thanks to you.)

He can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous, however, hearing you talk briefly about past flings and relationships. Although he couldn’t exactly distinguish whether or not he felt jealous of your experience, or jealous of the men in your stories. He knows he could be better, even if he had virtually no experience to go off of. Despite it all, he still thinks to himself that he could make himself into someone you wanted, someone good for you. (Though he does also wonder if that’s perhaps his newly inflated ego talking.)

Johnathon sighs and holds his head in his hands. His hand briefly falls through the hole in his face and comes out of his thigh. Regardless of what he thinks could happen and what could be, he knows deep down that you couldn’t possibly be attracted to him. Still, a man is allowed to dream, right?

…

As it turns out, dreams do come true.

Or at least a drunk, sloppy version of them.

To be fair, Johnathon didn't think he still could get drunk, so it wasn't his fault that he was a bit heavy-handed with the bottle. It didn’t help that you were so influencing either, all too eager to dump the rest of your bottle down the hole in his face just to see where it’d go. Apparently, liquids dissolved down quickly in his voided body before they could emerge out of another hole. So, he drank. He drank because it was the first time he could feel any kind of normalcy, he could feel like he was human again. Unfortunately for him, he's still just as loose-lipped when drunk as he was before the collider incident.

You swirl the foamy remnants of beer in your bottle, watching it swirl through the brown glass before swallowing it down with a tip of your head. Johnathon watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow, entranced. You breathe out, satisfied, and set the bottle down on the coffee table amongst all the others.

“Y’know,” You begin, leaning back against the couch cushions, legs curled up comfortably to your chest. “You’re not as bad looking as you think.” You’re squinting your eyes a little at him, as if you were examining his body. “Lotsa people are into your kinda thing.”

Johnathon’s face hole constricts a little as if he were narrowing his eyes. “My kinda thing? What’s that supposed t’mean?”

“You know! Like…like not human looking.” You’re still looking at him, grinning, fingers picking at the hem of your pajama pants.

He makes a sound like a scoff. “That’s not really a compliment…”

You whine in subtle frustration. “I didn’t mean it like that! I meant like, you have different kinds of qualities. Good qualities.” You poke your finger out at him, jabbing his chest. Your fingertip sinks into one of his inkblot holes and it gives Johnathon a feeling that he knows he’ll be thinking about later tonight when he's all alone. You replace your finger to actually poke his chest now, the smooth, almost rubbery skin of him. He shivers a little nonetheless.

“What…” he swallows thickly. “What kind of qualities?”

You continue to idly run circles over his chest with your index finger, humming softly to yourself. “I know the regular things, like how much of a good listener and talker you are. You know lots about stuff. And you also are like, super eager to please. That’s gotta be a good quality too.”

Johnathon looks down at your hand, his black little heart thumping in his chest. It’s almost too intimate for him to bear.

“Oh! And your holes!”

“My…my holes?”

“Yeah, I bet you can do some crazy things with them.”

“Oh god–” He nearly chokes at the thought running in his head.

“Yeah,” you continue, pulling your hand back to yourself. Johnathon hates how it makes him feel lonely. “I once met a guy who had crazy holes, haha, you could fit a whole fist in ther–”

“OH wow, really?” He quickly cuts you off, his paper-white face flushing a dull blue. He flaps his hands a little, as if it could cool down both his flustering and spiking jealousy. “I don’t think you should k-kiss and tell, right? Isn’t that a thing we’re not supposed to do? Kissing and…telling?” God, he really wants to know what it’s like to kiss you.

“Oh, c’mon! I know there has to be at least something you’ve done that you just gotta talk about. What is it, huh? Weird partner? Did they have a weird fetish?” You gasp suddenly. “Oh god, a pregnancy scare maybe?…pregnancy fetish?”

“No, no, none of that!” Johnathon waves his hands out in front of him rapidly, hoping to quell your questioning. “I’ve never uh- never really–”

“What, are you vanilla? Usually, nerds are like, SUPER kinky–”

“I’ve never had sex!” Curse him and his loose lips.

The air goes still amongst the sudden silence and Johnathon begins to regret ever speaking. Actually, scrap that, he regrets ever being born. Well, it’s actually not like he really had a choice in the matter, but that's beside the point.

Then, you snort a little. “You’ve gotta be joking, right? Aren’t you like, forty?”

His face hole shrinks down nearly to the side of a pinhole in both embarrassment and frustration. “I-I’m not forty! I’m thirty-eight! A-and besides, lots of people don’t have sex until they’re older! Or at all!”

“Oh my god, this is like that one movie, what’s it called, uhh,”

You tap your chin, completely ignoring him.

“I should have never said anything, I’m such an idiot—“

“No, don’t say that!” You poke his chest again, whining when he recoils from your touch. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make fun of you, I’m sorry.”

Johnathon huffs, grabbing one of the half-full bottles and dumping it down his face hole. It scrunches slightly in what you’ve begun to assume is swallowing. You pout and scoot up closer to him. “Johnny…”

He chokes a little, his gangly body going stiff. “Y-yeah?”

You grab his face, fingers pressing against his pale, rubbery cheeks. “You wanna do it?”

For a moment, Johnathon feels like the world has gone still. Everything is muffled and slow as the realization dawns on him. “Wuh-what?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” You repeat, squishing his cheeks after each word like you were making him say them too.

“Yes! I-I mean, I would really like to, you’re so pretty, b-but uh, I’m a little, hah, how do you say it, ohmygosh this is harder than I thought it’d be! Uhm!” He flusters and rambles, hands flapping in front of his chest, and you’re just waiting. You’re looking at him with lidded, bedroom eyes, and Johnathon thinks he finally understands the meaning of that word.

“I don’t have, I don’t have a penis!”

A beat goes by, and then another, and he begins to feel like he blew his only shot with you.

“Do you have a vagina? It’s not an issue for me, I wanna fuck you either way.”

Jesus Christ, you are going to kill him.

“I mean, I don’t have anything.” He breathes out, shoulders deflating. “The uh, the whole collider thing got rid of it all.”

“Oh man, that’s awful.” You pat his shoulder, looking at him with sympathetic eyes. “But, y’know, the offer still stands…maybe we can get a little science-y and figure out how to get you off, eh?”

Johnathon lifts his head and finds you grinning at him. “Science-y?” He repeats, his face hole crinkling like a smile.

“Yeah, dude! Science-y! Hypothesis! Theories! Quantum holes! Your holes!”

He snorts and it leads into a laugh, a deep belly laugh that he hasn’t been able to do in a while. And really, why the hell not?

His laugh dies down when you get closer, straddling his thighs and seating yourself down in his lap—and god, he can feel those short shorts he loves riding up your thighs and wrinkling against his skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” You croon, leaning in and nudging your nose under his chin. If Johnathon still had a dick, that would have sent blood right down to it.

His inkblot holes quiver amongst his body, undulating and jumping across his skin like microscopic particles, bouncing against each other under a microscope. Your face gets closer to his, lips hovering over the entrance of his face. Gently, curiously, you purse your lips and kiss the voided space. It’s almost as if there’s a thin membrane separating the outside world from the inside of him, cool to the touch and like bubblegum stretched thin. The membrane melds against your lips like it’s kissing you back and when Johnathon shivers, it puckers and purses.

His hands tremble, hovering above your hips and thighs, as if it’d burn him to touch you properly, despite how much he craves it.

Your tongue drags over the edge of his face hole and Johnathon practically whimpers. You’re humming softly, one hand idly stroking his arm as the other feels up his chest. He used to be a tad bit insecure about his pudgy torso, but with so many spots, he had other things to outweigh the worry. But now he can’t help but hold his breath, waiting for your approval of his body, the kind he so desperately needs.

“Cute.” You say mostly to yourself, dipping your fingers into a hole in his chest. He sighs out heavily in relief and pleasure, his head thumping back against the edge of the couch.

“How’s this feel?” You poke and prod into the hole, pressing past the same kind of membrane as his face. Vaguely, you feel your fingertips come back out of another hole, but you don’t focus as much on that part.

“Good,” Jonathan answers curtly, sucking a breath through his nonexistent teeth. When he exhales, it's shuddery and almost pitiful. “It’s good, it’s like- like there but not,”

“So you can feel it? What if I do something like this?” Curiously, you curl your fingers in the empty space, and a fuzzy feeling coats your skin as if your fingers were pruning yet stayed completely dry. He yelps loudly, his body lurching and he finally grabs onto you. His fingers dig into your thighs on their own accord and you are absolutely delighted with it.

“Oh god!” He cries, his thighs shifting and squirming under your lap, and you start to feel something poking at your ass. You give a confused hum, lift your hips and look down. Nope, he still doesn't have a dick, but the empty space between his legs has seemingly swollen into a small, adorable bulge. Johnathon breathes out heavily and follows your gaze.

“Wow, that’s so cool…” You reach down between your laps and grind the heel of your palm against the bulge.

He gasps sharply. “Oh, fuck me!”

“Yeah, that’s what I'm trying to do.” You snicker impishly. You observe the way the squishy bulge flushes with color around the surface, almost like a blush. “I bet that feels really good, huh? It’s kinda like you have a really big clit. Sorta” You squish it in your hands and he shudders, shoulders tensing and inkblot shrinking. “Hey, you know what would be fun?”

Johnathon feels a little loopy, his stomach filled with butterflies and his brain thoroughly mush. He considers this endeavor so far to be successful considering the fact he didn't think he still could feel pleasure. But here you are, proving him wrong once again.

“Wh-what would?” He finds himself asking, rutting his hips up into your hand like a depraved little thing.

You don’t answer verbally yet, just sit back down on his lap and rock your hips against his. “If you fucked yourself like this.” Your fingers curl back into one of his holes, running up and down the edge of it. Johnathon melts, blubbering out nearly unintelligible pleas.

“You can do it, right? I’ll keep fingering you if you hump me like a dirty dog.”

And oh, that does things to him. He’ll…have to address that new kink later.

“Yes,” he gasps, grabbing on tightly to your hips and canting his hips up, grinding his bulge against your sex. “Yessss!” He can’t help but cry it out, his smooth head burrowing itself in the crook of your neck from the sheer intensity of it all. The heat of you is almost unbearable on his body, inside his holes. And he really is panting like a dog, he’s humping you like he actually has a dick to work with, like you could grab him and stroke him until he was a weeping mess.

“That’s it, you don’t wanna be a virgin anymore, right? C’mon, show me what you’re made of, you little nerd.” You’re cooing to him like it’s praise, and with the way you’re stroking the inside of him, pressing your fingers past that membrane and curling until the fuzziness is almost unbearable, you might as well be.

Johnathon moans wetly against your neck, legs widening and hands holding your hips down firmly as he ruts. He grinds his aching core against you, practically delirious and melting with every saccharine whisper in his ear.

“I’m gonna cum,” you hear him say, muffled against your skin and devious delight spreads through your entire being. You hook your fingers into the hole of his face and he cries out, a debauched “Ah! Ah!” as you lift his head up. His inkblot holes shiver violently, and you hold his face in your hands like he’s your entire world, like he’s the only thing that matters to you.

And then you lean in, holding his face so carefully—

And spit.

The man below you gurgles, your spit falling down the hole in his face as a viscous glob tasting faintly of beer. Johnathon thrusts his hips up once, twice, and he’s cumming. Nothing comes out of him, but you swear you can see the holes of him drooling, dripping liquid dark matter that hurts your eyes a little to stare at too long. Pleasure blooms in you at the sight and feeling of his incessant rutting, your hands petting his head as his first orgasm in so long washes over him.

And finally, he slumps back against the couch, trembling under you, the surface of his face flushed with color. You lift yourself off his lap, your shorts still wet with your own arousal, but you’re not done with him yet.

“It’s no good to leave your partner high and dry, you know?” You tease him, and the realization dawns on his faceless face.

“O-OH! Oh, I’m so so sorry! I-I didn’t mean- that wasn’t my intention at all! Wh-what should I do? What do you like? Oh god, I’m so sorry—“

You quiet him by lifting his gangly legs up, exposing him even further. “Don't worry about it, it’s your first time! That just means I’ll have to use you.” That evil little grin is back as you brace one foot on the floor and the other on the couch cushions, slotting your hips against his. Poor Johnathon is practically folded in half, one leg hanging over your shoulder and the other dangling uselessly to the side.

You don’t waste any time either, you get right to it, hips thrusting quick and hard against his over sensitive bulge. And oh, how he squeals. He’s always been a talkative man, but he never could have anticipated being this vocal.

“Uhgn! Hah! Mmm-mmph! I-I can’t! S’too much, too much!” He babbles on, sights locked on how your hips connect with his, ruthlessly grinding and rutting and it reminds him of some kind of wild animal.

“You can, huff, take it. Jus’ a lil more,'' your head hangs low between your shoulders, arousal twining together deep in your gut. Johnathon feels it too, and he feels it tenfold. His body feels like it’s on fire, steadily submerged in pleasure until he’s burning alive in it. He can’t take how you look above him either, so goddamn ethereal, the dim overcast of the tv lighting you from behind like a digital halo, as if you were an angel sent to soothe him after such chaos. Johnathon was never a religious man, but for you, he thinks he could be.

It only takes you a little longer, already so wound tight from before. He’s dangling on the precipice of release again, delirious with lust, clinging onto the back of your neck and tugging you in.

You find your face inside of him when you cum, and somehow the deprivation of sensory makes it all the better, colors popping up in your vision like synesthesia. You can feel his thighs tighten around you with his budding climax, but you can’t see, and you already know how you regret that. You suppose you’ll just have to overstimulate him again one day when he can’t hide himself from your view.

Johnathon goes limp and you’re finally able to pull your face from the inside of his, the dark matter sliding free from your skin like an unsticky slime. It’s weird, but oddly refreshing.

Cum stains the inside of your shorts but it’s the last thing on your mind when you take in the visual that is Johnathon. He practically glows with post coital bliss, seeped back into couch cushions without the tension you’re so used to.

You let his legs fall back down, slumping into the seat next to him. He hums softly in delight, kinda loopy, entirely pleased.

“So?” You question him, idly stroking his soft chest. It’s sweaty in its own way. “Was that good for your very first time?” You waggle your brows at him and he snorts, albeit a little weakly.

“Incredibly so. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good in my life.”

You clap happily. “And you’re no longer a forty year old virgin!”

“I told you I’m NOT forty!”

#the spot #johnathon ohnn #spicy #sub atsv #the spot x reader

1K notes · View notes

yoonmeowzz · 1 year

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nct 127 ! being domestic

contents: nct 127 members x gn!reader, fluff, slice of life, established relationship, non idol au, use of pet names (babe, darling)

warnings: mentions of food (taeil and taeyong)

a/n: i've been thinking A LOT about johnny and mark and this kind of stuff so... yeah

taeil

having breakfast with taeil is definitely the most precious moment of the day. he's still sleepy and clingy so expect having his arms wrapped around you and his nose buried on your neck as you try to serve him a cup of water. just when he feels his stomach growling for food he would detach his body from yours to make toasts with butter and jam, or even just butter and some sugar cause he's lazy today. however he would remind you how good you look in the morning and how much he loves you.

"i can't believe you really wake up like that, y/n"

"like what?"

"like... wow"

⠀ ⠀⠀

johnny

even if people don't believe him, he's 6ft tall, so obviously he can reach every high place in the house. he enjoys seeing you trying to get things from the highest shelves but when you decide to give up and look for him, without saying a word he gets up and helps you getting what you wanted. he then feels his chest filled with this warm feeling he can’t explain, he just loves to help you, be there for you when you need him. he usually stays in the kitchen while you’re cooking, even if you told him to rest, just to get things for you.

“johnny…” he looked up from his phone and immediately went to take the bowl you needed.

“there you go, babe”

⠀ ⠀⠀

taeyong

taeyong appreciates every second he spends with you but late night talking is definitely his favorite thing to do with you. some days, he takes some snacks and drinks sneakily from the kitchen before going back to his room, where you are waiting for him with a smile. however, most of the time it’s just you and him hugging each other or simply lying next to each other while you talk about whatever crosses your mind.

“did you know that there was a greek stuttering orator? he’d practice hard every day to be able to speak in public without stuttering.”

“stop, y/n, i’m gonna get emotional”

⠀ ⠀⠀

yuta

on lazy days when neither of you have enough energy to do anything, he asks you to spend the day in bed. you accept without a doubt. y’all just cuddle for a while, maybe he takes a little nap while you’re on your phone. but his favorite part is lying down on your tummy and having your hands playing with his hair. he LOVES the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp, gently twisting each hair strand. eventually he falls asleep to your slow breathing as the only background noise and once he wakes up he’s all clingy and lovely.

“did i already told you how much i love you?”

“you did, yuta, and i love you too. so much”

“i love you more, darling”

⠀ ⠀⠀

doyoung

activities with doyoung are always aesthetically pleasant, so cute coffee dates at home with homemade coffee are something usual now. he takes his time making your coffee look great so you can take pictures to remember this sweet moments with him when you’re away. after having your cups ready y’all just cuddle on the couch covered in cozy blankets and watch a movie or talk about nothing in particular.

“you said you wanted to try caramel macchiato so i tried to make it. if it tastes bad i can give you my cup”

“thank you so much, doyoung”

⠀ ⠀⠀

jaehyun

this man’s music taste is immaculate. you usually spend your lazy time together listening to music together while cuddling on his bed. you’re lying on top of him, your head resting on his chest as you listen to his calm heartbeat and flash by cigarettes after sex at the background. with his hands stroking your back slowly up and down you start dozing off, his arms secured around you.

“sleep tight, y/n” you hear him whisper over the music before finally falling asleep.

⠀ ⠀⠀

jungwoo

he’s kinda a clean freak so you try to keep things neat. however, he doesn’t mind if you leave the living room or bathroom messy cause he prefers cleaning together on weekends since he has lots of fun spending time with you, no matter what y’all are doing. if you’re tiding your shared bedroom he’s going to try on every piece of clothing he finds. sooner or later, your cleaning session becomes a fashion runway.

“check this hoodie, y/n!! do i look good?”

“you look amazing!!”

⠀ ⠀⠀

mark

messy hair mark, wearing his glasses and pajamas should be illegal cause he’s going to be the death of me. when he’s not busy he likes to spend his mornings with you, especially playing the guitar for you. you’re both sitting on his bed, he just plays some accords until you decide what song you want him to play. it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t know that particular song, he’d learn it for you. and when he starts singing ever so softly… i’m combusting

“i just wanna live in this moment forever…”

⠀ ⠀⠀

haechan

when he’s free from work he spends his time playing video games. but there’s something about playing mario kart with you that feels different. it may sound stupid, but competing with you or making silly bets like “the loser has to give the winner a kiss” is something really intimate and special for him. he usually is very competitive, but this time he doesn’t mind losing, having you by his side is already a win.

“if you win the tournament i’ll do everything you ask me for a week”

“and if i lose?” you raised an eyebrow.

“you have to love me forever”

⠀ ⠀⠀

1K notes · View notes

dangopango00 · 3 months

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COLLEGE AU TIGHNARI ROOMMATE HCS

Tighnari x gn reader

A/N: AUGGGHHHHH IM INSANE AGAIENEBWFWFWWGQ Missing tighnari hours oue so I will write out all the roomie hcs I have to share; per usual its self indulgent as hell

If im being fr this is probably gonna have a part 2 soon i always forget something 😭😭 also my art of him is down there somewhere!!!!

Cw: long af oh my god

more utc

First Meeting:

- You’re a biology major or something similar and just visiting the college you’ll be attending

- You were definitely going to move into the dorms but you heard about and later witnessed some student running around like a maniac looking for a roommate

- You even got emails about it, found flyers on some of the pinboards around the school and even saw ads online (whether that be in some college gc app like zeemee or whatever)

- Eventually you did a bit of basic research on this guy by asking some of your friends or people who know him and you found out his name is Tighnari and he’s double majored in biology and botany

- You let him go on for a few days-a week before you realized he really wasn’t going to find a roommate this late in the game; feeling both pity and admiration for his dedication, you approached him with one of the flyers in your hand as the poor guy took a break from his ad campaign

- “Um… about this flyer…..”

- Tighnari’s ears immediately perked up oh you just made his week, no his month— maybe even his year

- “Yes? Are you interested in moving in? My previous roommate has begun living elsewhere” he explained.

- You’re hesitant, hoping you aren’t making a mistake but eventually steel yourself and figure you only live once right? Plus he could always help with your work! You give him a firm nod.

- Tighnari got a bit overexcited, asking way too many questions at once, “When can you move in? How will you be paying rent? Are you alright with plants? Right, by the way I’m Tighnari. I am a biology and botany major”

- “It’s nice to meet you! I’m (Y/n). I can move in soon and plants are fine! Uh …About rent! I’ll have to find a job but I do have some savings!” you confessed nervously.

- To tell the truth you weren’t planning on getting a job this early on, planning to get the hang of the new workload first but desperate times call for desperate measures (Cute guy in trouble 😤)

- Tighnari however, was unamused. His face completely dropped as if you’d just told him his entire family dropped dead, “You don’t have a source of income already…? Then why would you…. Sigh Nevermind. Its fine. This is fine. I’ll even help you job search”

- “Greeeaaatttt there goes my credit” he thought. And it showed on his face too.

- You just shoot him a silly smile and over the course of the days it took to move you into his apartment you establish some ground rules

Rules:

- He will do the cooking and he’ll cook for you if he’s cooking for himself (if he’s not cooking then you’re on your own)

- In return you do a majority of the cleaning although it’s still pretty split kinda like a 60/40 or 55/45 kind of deal

- You pay the water bill while he pays electricity (you take long showers and his plants and such sometimes require lamps + he just uses a lot of electricity I feel like it’s not usually for him but his plants and work)

- Visitors are pretty much always welcome but you have to let the other know beforehand

- Although the previous rule is true none of those kind of visitors are allowed. Tighnari has sensitive ears he don’t wanna hear that 😭😭

- Be cool and communicate if you have a problem

Apartment:

- SO MANY PLANTS. LIKE THEY ARE TAKING OVER THE APARTMENT . This is a big part of why Tighnari didn’t want to live in the dorms since he wouldn’t be able to have as many plants as he wanted

- It’s a little funny Cyno has really bad allergies so he never lived with him and Collei lived with him for a long time but moved out to move in with Amber (oue shes leaving the nest) (she’s in the apartment right below yours)

- You, as a biology major, on the other hand LOVE the amount of plants in the apartment and Tighnari is ecstatic because he was sooo worried you’d try to make him get rid of them or something; is even more glad that you like them as much as he does

- Also has a big tank of worms where he dumps all the leftovers neither of you eat. He then uses the compost as plant fertilizer

- Despite the amount of things in the apartment its very neat and organized; there are little notebooks next to every living thing to keep track of when and how to feed them

You and Him:

- He has a very old ass car but only uses it for emergencies because he’s not a fan of carbon emissions (usually goes places by public transport, walking or hitching rides) (its the little things that make a big difference ok)

- He works two jobs: One at a plant/flower shop and the other at the school library

- He sometimes brings home new plants because all the plants no one will buy are always given to him by management

- You work one or two jobs likely on campus maybe in the newspaper or the school cafe etc

- Either way whenever you get home tired or after just having a bad day he’d comfort you so much no matter how many days in a row you do the same thing, flopping on the couch and groaning

- When you first did it you two weren’t close but he still stroked your hair and offered you some words of praise but when you two became more comfortable he’d straight up hold you to his chest or let you lay on his lap while stroking your hair if you don’t mind

- “I really need to stop coddling you” he’d say this all the time but never follow through on it and you’d be in his arms as we speak 😅

- He never did stop coddling you. Whenever you watch a show or anime he’s right beside you on the couch reading his book as he glances up every now and again; sometimes gives his two cents on what’s going on in the show (my personal fave is him getting mad at the usopp going merry arc in water 7 bye)

- He has little black rectangular reading glasses idc idgaf he dresses like an old man too with cardigans and sweater vests, maybe overalls if he’s going out to do garden work (he has no sense of fashion we know this)

- If you’re willing to listen he will yap so much about his plants and about wildlife; his heart melts in his chest if you seem genuinely interested and are paying close attention

- You have a snail named Saniel/Saniela. You almost stepped on him and brought him inside, putting him in a little terrarium thing.

- Tighnari hates that thing (he doesn’t; he’s like a grumpy father with a new dog) if it gets out it will eat his plants, so watch it. 😤

- Posts it on his little conservation account (shoutout to the person who wrote that post where he had a conservation insta acc i cant find it) and it overtakes the page gn its his worst nightmare. First it steals his unofficial lover now his followers

- Yall would’ve been burned at the stake in the 1800s you’re always doing your “projects” in the house unless its dangerous (but you’ll still do it outside) like you seeing a girl on Tiktok grow mushrooms on a book so you try it at home…

- He always helps you with anyyyyything. You need help studying for this biology test? So does he, come on in. You need a shoulder to cry on? He has two!! You want a snack but you don’t want to ask too much of him? Don’t be ridiculous he’s making you something as we speak

- He’s actually such a sweetheart he worries about your diet so much; honestly he’s content knowing that you’re under his care bc then he knows you’re eating right

- He wakes up and starts his day INSANELY early and honestly if you manage to wake up before him he’d probably flinch seeing you up LOL he’s so not used to anyone being awake when he is let alone earlier

- Absolute hypocrite too, he won’t let you sleep too late no matter what day it is or whether you have class or not but when he does it he’s just busy smh

- Wouldn’t mind if you treated him the same although if it’s time sensitive he fears he cannot give in to your demands sigh

- He’s a worrywart and a leeeetle nagging but you can tell he cares and you care about him just the same

- You’re always doing whatever you can to take stress off of his shoulders like running errands for him, cooking for him/ordering takeout when he can’t cook, Taking care of his plants for him when he’s busy, etc

- If you work out in the house after moving in then it’s so over for him

- He’s insane. If you’re in the living room he will go “read” his book on the couch but he’s been on the same page the whole time, is he ever gonna flip?

- Not even like explicit workouts like squats or something; just seeing you push yourself to your limit and sweaty and grunting and— where was he again? Ah right page 52.

- It’s so much worse if you ask him to help in some way, he can’t focus at all especially if you ask him to sit on your back while you do pushups

- Also a fan of you being taller than him no matter the method. (Which isn’t hard to achieve bc I hc him like 5’1-5’3) Naturally tall? Great! Wearing platforms? Amazing! Standing on a stool? As long as he doesn’t look down then it’s hot

Funny Bonus from the ari:

Tighnari: do you know anyone who still needs housing arrangements?? pls I’m desperate 😭

Alhaitham: you could take Kaveh

Kaveh: WOWWWW…

#tighnari x reader #tighnari #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #tighnari x you #gi art #genshin art #my art <3 #tighnari art #im going insane #why cant i be normal #genshin tighnari #i cant believe i like this dork #mwahmwah ily tighnari

154 notes · View notes

everscorner · 6 days

Text

Something In The Way You Move | The Redemption

Author’s note: I struggled writing this next instalment, and there was a lot of chopping and changing, so apologies for the late update. There’s one final part after this, and the plan is to have it out by mid-May. In terms of their apartment, this is how I pictured it but feel free to switch it up. This is only for fictional purposes only, but please don’t copy my work without my permission. Enjoy 🤎

Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive/implied smut, bad language, couple reconciling, side chick confrontation, some relationship issues, minors DNI (let me know if I missed anything)

famous!Reader x Jude Bellingham Word count: 8k words

///

‘So, Bestie,’ Winnie starts, ‘what’s the plan? And how are we going to pull this off?’

That’s a good question: how will you break the big news to Jude? It’s been five torturous days since the positive pregnancy test and you’re yet to tell him about it. The timing just hasn’t been right, and the next bit’ll sound silly, but you’ve kept this from him because you don’t want to take the attention from him.

His first season at Real Madrid has exceeded all your wildest expectations, and you just wanted him to celebrate it all without detracting from it with the baby news.

Girlfriend of the Year, right?

‘To be honest, Wins, I haven’t thought about it.’

You’re standing in the kitchen waiting for the water in the kettle to boil and Winnie’s in the living room, her limbs stretched out on the sectional as she mindlessly browses through one of the coffee table books.

Your best friend’s in town for work, and earlier today, she actually filmed a couple of scenes with you for the show, and that’s when you told her about the pregnancy.

Off camera, of course. However, looking back at the moment, you regret not filming it.

Between filming your scenes, you quietly pulled Winnie to the side and showed her the sonogram you now carry around in your bag, and her reaction was exactly what you expected it to be and more. There was squealing, excited jumping, and there were lots and lots of tears shed between the two of you.

‘Okay, well, when do you plan to tell him?’

Tonight. You think enough time has passed and yesterday, you went to your first doctor’s appointment and confirmed that you were indeed pregnant, but despite your excitement, you kept the news from Jude because you wanted the announcement to be well thought out—special.

Also, there has been so much distance between you, you’re hoping that the baby news could be the catalyst to bring you two together because you kinda miss being close to him.

‘I’ll be honest with you, Y/N/N, that doesn’t give us much time to plan it.’

Winnie makes a good point, but you’re not looking for perfection, all that matters is that he knows.

‘Well,’ the kettle boils and you walk over to where it sits on the counter to grab it, ‘it depends on what we decide on.’

You start pouring the boiling liquid into the cups.

‘My only request is that we incorporate the sonogram.’

‘Wouldn’t it be cute if we could find a pair of infant football boots?’

It’s kinda cheesy—very cheesy, actually—but you like the idea. A lot.

‘Yeah, that’s a good idea. We’re getting somewhere with this.’

It’s almost hard to believe that you’re standing here, plotting out a way to tell Jude that you’re expecting.

If someone had come up to you the night you first met him and told you that in two years, you’d be standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment in Madrid, planning a pregnancy reveal, you would’ve called them a liar.

Excuse your French, but. . . ‘Holy fuck, Wins, I’m pregnant.’

It’s like it’s hitting you for the first time.

Winnie laughs, amused by your sudden realisation. ‘I can’t explain it, right? But it feels like a teen pregnancy.’

There’s no need for her to explain it further ‘cause you know exactly what she means. When you first saw the positive pregnancy test—you know, after your initial shock—you first panicked about how your family would react to the news.

You had to take a moment to stop and remind yourself that even though you’re still so young, you’re more than capable of raising this child.

With Jude’s assistance, of course.

‘Do you want to record it?’

‘Record what?’

You take the steaming mugs from the island and make your way over to the living room, where you place them onto the coffee table.

‘The moment you tell him. Not for Netflix,’ she clarifies, ‘but you know, home videos or whatever.’

Yeah, you’re definitely keeping this one in the family. Maybe if the show gets renewed for a second season. . . but you’re jumping the gun.

‘I want to, but’ you look around the ostentatiously decorated main living space ‘where can we put the camera? I don’t want him to see it.’

‘We’ll figure it out.’

Winnie’s composure is just what you need right now. You can always count on her to be calm in stressful situations.

‘Is your camera charged?’

You’ll have to check. It’s been some time since you last used it. Part of your job is that you’re a part time YouTuber, it’s something you dabble in because you like filming and editing. . . all that jazz, but lately, your channel has taken the backseat.

Why vlog this period of your life when they can catch it on Netflix when the show comes out?

‘Come,’ Winnie shifts to make space for you on the couch.

You take your seat next to her and by the time you settle, she’s already got her phone out, with her Pinterest open.

‘What’s that for?’

‘Well, something’s got to inspire us.’

Duh. It must be the pregnancy fog.

‘Don’t worry,’ she assures. ‘We’ve got this.’

And got this you do. A half hour and two cold teas later, there’s a plan, but this plan requires you to leave the house.

Booooo!

You’re not too keen on the impromptu outing, but there are baby football boots to be bought, and at least you’ll have Winnie there with you.

‘Well, that was easy.’

You beg to differ, but whatever.

Winnie locks her phone and sets it on the couch, ‘When’s The Boy coming home?’

You’re not sure when it started, but Winnie now refers to Jude as “The Boy” which you find to be endearing.

Probably late. He’s out with Toby and Noah, and he mentioned something about his other teammates joining them, but you weren’t really paying attention.

‘I’m not sure.’

And it’s not something you wish to discuss further because the thought fills you with dread. It’s been days since your discovery but given the circumstances, there has been no time to sit down and talk about Coralie.

The result of that is that whenever he goes out—and he’s been going out plenty to celebrate his victorious season—you can’t help but feel anxious that he might cheat on you again.

Surely this is no way to live.

‘But it doesn’t matter, does it?’ you rise off of the couch and start for the bedroom.

Naturally, Winnie’s trailing after you and you just know that this conversation is far from over. She’s persistent.

‘It doesn’t, but I think you should ask him.’

She makes it sound so simple. And you guess it is simple, he is your boyfriend after all, it’s your privilege to call or text him whenever and wherever.

‘We don’t want any surprises.’

You don’t, but if he does walk into something he’s not supposed to walk into, that’s all on him.

‘I don’t think it’s necessary, really.’

Inside the walk-in closet, you start stripping out of your house sweats to change into something appropriate. Once upon a time, you could leave your house in your house clothes without the fear of being pasted on the MailOnline and labelled “dowdy” and “unkempt”.

But that was a long time ago.

‘Oooh, what’s this?’

Winnie finds herself distracted by the Chloé box that’s sitting on the closet island.

‘Oh, yeah, that’s a PR box they sent me on Monday,’ you state matter-of-factly.

She opens it and gasps when she sees what’s inside the large box.

‘What the. . .’

‘It’s crazy, right?’

She turns to you in utter disbelief. ‘They gifted these to you?’

You hum.

She grunts and confesses, ‘I’m so jealous of you right now.’

Twelve full sized perfumes, all gifted to you by the brand.

You tell her to take a bottle, and of course, she’s over the moon. And it earns you the title of World’s Best Best Friend.

‘Well, I still think you should text him,’ she states as she tests the different scents.

And here you thought she had forgotten about that.

‘Just so we have an idea.’

You don’t really want to send the text, but you don’t want to raise any alarms with your friend. Lately, things between you and Jude have been far from perfect, but you’d prefer to keep your relationship problems from the world—even if it’s Winnie and she’s your best friend.

‘Yeah, alright.’

Your phone’s in the living room, so you have to leave the closet to grab it, and when you come back, Winnie’s discovered your new Chanel handbag—a gift from Jude.

‘He bought this for you?’

‘Yeah,’ but you’re not trying to make a big deal of it.

Jude bought the bag for you about a month ago. At the time, it seemed so random—his urge to buy such an expensive gift on a whim—, but after seeing those text messages, you know it was the guilt that made him do it.

‘Lucky bitch.’

‘I’ve been telling you to bag yourself a baller,’ you tease as you take your seat on one of the ottomans.

You: Hey, when are you coming back tonight?

You read over the text to make sure you’re not coming off as desperate. . . a nag. But whatever, the text needs to be sent, and the way he interprets it is up to him.

He doesn’t immediately respond, but you don’t expect him to. He never does when he’s out.

You take a final look in the mirror. You look so good, it’s almost hard to believe that the look was put together in ten minutes. And you’d take a picture to post on your story, but there’s no time for that now.

‘You ready, Wins?’

She smiles, ‘Ready.’

‘Alright then, let’s go.’

///

When he did finally respond to your text, Jude said that he’d try to be home by midnight, which gave you more than enough time to prepare for the reveal.

For her visit, Winnie will be staying at the apartment with you, but she’s gone out because she’s not pregnant and she’s actually got a life. However, she did help you set everything up for the reveal, which you appreciated because she came with all the good ideas.

Like she suggested that you do it in your closet as opposed to the kitchen, where you had initially planned to do it, because the lighting and acoustics were better.

And now it’s a little past eleven o’clock and you’re rewatching an old episode of your favourite series. Earlier in the night—after Winnie left—you filmed a night time routine vlog for your TikTok, which you should be working on editing, but can’t be bothered about.

Waiting for Jude to come home has reduced you to a ball of anxiety, and despite your eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each passing minute, you simply can’t make yourself fall asleep. However, one thing’s certain, no pregnancy reveal will be done tonight.

Damn him, and damn your feelings for him.

You can’t believe he’s once again ditched you for his friends this week. It’s disrespectful at this point, but the worst part?

You keep allowing him to get away with it.

But what can you do, leave him? As if that’s an option for you. The love you feel for him runs so deep, you can’t bring yourself to imagine a life without him in it, especially with the baby coming. So apologies to all the feminists of the world, but your love for this man surpasses all reasoning.

Your phone dings with a notification and you quickly grab it, hoping to find a text from him—you’ll take an incoherent drunken text at this point, anything—but instead it’s Winnie asking if he’s home yet.

Fuck.

You: Not yet, but soon :)

You hope.

She’ll never confront you about it, but you think that Winnie suspects that things aren’t good between you and Jude. The lack of calls and texts throughout the day was a dead giveaway. The two of you can’t get enough of each other, and even when you’re apart, you’re constantly updating each other one way or another so the silence was deafening.

But whatever, right?

People across the world experience relationship problems every day. You’re not the first couple to experience this, and you’re certainly not the last. You just wish that your relationship problems weren’t because he stepped out on you.

‘Babe?’

And now your mind’s playing tricks on you, because you swear you can hear him–

‘Y/N?’

Oh shit, he’s home!

You quickly reach for your phone to check the time: 11:26.

Fuck!

In the last text you sent him almost an hour ago now, you gave him strict instructions to text you before he left the club.

Guess he didn’t catch that text.

‘Baby?’ he calls for you again, but his voice sounds distant, so you figure you have enough time to do what it is that you have to do.

But you’ve got to move fast, so you clamber off of the bed, and scurry to your closet. You head straight to the camera, which you’ve carefully propped on your Louis Vuitton jewellery box, and switch it on to start recording.

This probably isn’t the best of angles, but so long as it captures his reaction, hopefully with his face in the frame.

‘Baaaaybeeee?’

His voice sounds closer now.

‘In the closet, babe,’ you finally call back, then internally brace yourself for what’s to follow.

With Jude, the plan was always to get married and have children, but the when was never discussed in detail.

‘Why are you hiding in here?’

Some of that anxiety leaves your body at the sight of him. He’s beaming at you, so visibly happy to see you.

‘Hiya.’

This man has seen you in all kinds of vulnerable situations, why are you so shy all of a sudden?

As he closes the distance between you, you notice that his eyes are kinda red and glossy, the only sign of his intoxication. When he reaches you, his smile widens—if that’s even possible—and he leans forward to connect your foreheads.

‘Hi, gorgeous.’

He smells of mint with the faint scent of alcohol, and a smell you can only describe as Jude on a night out.

With your eyes shut, you deeply inhale the comforting scent, happy to have him back home.

‘Hey, why are you hiding in here?’ he asks again, his words running into each other, the second sign.

‘Uh, ‘cause.’

You weren’t anticipating that question, and you don’t know how to answer it.

‘“‘Cause?”’ he chuckles.

You hum.

‘Come here,’ he envelops you in his large and strong arms, practically suffocating you but you can’t bring yourself to tell him to release you because you’ve missed his affection and the intimacy.

You fear you’re starting to sound like a broken record.

‘How was it?’

‘How was what?’

‘The club?’

‘Fine.’

And that’s all he’s willing to offer.

‘I thought you said Winnie was staying over?’

She is, she’s just gone to a party with the new guy she’s seeing.

‘And you didn’t join her?’

‘No.’

You give him a half-baked explanation for why you didn’t, but all you’re thinking is how this isn’t going the way you hoped for it to go. This isn’t what the other significant others did in the videos you watched earlier.

But how do you save it?

‘Why are you asking about her?’

‘Just curious, I guess.’

‘Alright then,’ you fist his jacket in your hand. ‘It’s good to have you back home.’

He likes that, you know that because his heart rate picks up. Things are still a bit awkward between you, but that’s to be expected since you haven’t been talking much.

With your arms around his neck, you press onto your toes and crane your neck to peck him on the lips. ‘And actually, babe, there’s something I want to show you.’

Jude tenses up at that, but it’s so subtle, if you weren’t in his arms, you would’ve missed it.

‘You do?’

And like magic, he’s sobered up. Only a bit though.

‘Don’t worry,’ you assure him, amused. ‘It’s nothing bad.’

Your assurance does nothing to ease his wound up body.

‘Jude, relax. . . please.’

Still tense. Whatever, you won’t dwell on his anxiety.

With a final peck to his lips, you step away from him and direct his attention to the island, where the football booties you went out to buy earlier are placed next to a toddler Real Madrid jersey, a positive pregnancy test—you took another one a couple of hours ago—and the sonogram.

‘Surprise,’ you say softly.

You want to sound excited, but it just comes out dejected.

You watch as he takes it in, your heart hammering against your chest. Unfortunately for you, you only have a view of his side profile but even from this angle, you can see that his usually expressive face is perfectly still. You can’t read him, and it feels like an eternity before he turns to face you.

‘Is this for real?’

You nod, the lump that has found a home in your throat making it hard to speak. Your vision’s also blurred, courtesy of the tears that have pooled in your eyes.

‘It is?’

The first tear falls.

‘Oh, baby.’

Jude lifts you into his arms and squeezes all the air from your lungs.

Man, he’s so strong.

Then he sort of holds you like that for a long time, and the next thing you know, your neck is damp.

‘Babe, are you. . are you crying?’

He denies it, but you can feel the damp spot grow with each passing second you’re in his arms. Oh goodness, he is.

‘I think you are.’

‘Shut up,’ he mutters, his voice muffled.

You giggle when he tickles you.

His reaction’s quite the relief and it feels like a ginormous load has been lifted off your shoulders. In terms of his reaction, you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is the best reaction possible, and as he holds you, all the lingering resentment about his past transgressions are forgotten.

Eventually, he sets you down to reveal his red rimmed eyes and similarly hued nose.

‘How far along are you?’

Seven weeks and three days today, according to your doctor. When Dr Hernandez told you, you couldn’t believe you were so far along and didn’t notice.

‘That’s what, almost two months?’

In defence of you though, between your work and Jude’s chaotic football schedule, you’ve been out of touch with your body.

‘Did you know?’

‘I suspected it.’ You tell him about the morning after that night when you noticed that your period was late. ‘I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to take the test first.’

‘And why didn’t you tell me after?’

‘I wanted the doctor to confirm it.’

You’ve grown so tired of standing, so you sit on the carpeted floor of the closet, and Jude joins you, pushing the ottoman to one side so that he can lean against the island.

‘I called Dr Morena who referred me to Dr Hernandez.’

He scowls, ‘Who’s that?’

‘My obstetrician.’

The scowl deepens.

You sigh, ‘The doctor who’ll care for me during the pregnancy.’

‘Oh.’ With his legs spread and stretched out before him, he pulls you into him and sets you between them. ‘And you said that Dr Morena referred you to this. . .’

‘Obstetrician.’

‘Yeah, that.’

You hum in agreement as you rest your back against his torso.

Dr Morena is your family GP.

There’s a silent beat then he asks, ‘So he knew before me?’

‘Winnie too,’ you turn your head so that you’re partially facing him. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Winnie knew before me?’

The offence is evident in his voice.

‘I had to tell her,’ you defend, but this isn’t where you want to steer the conversation. ‘She helped me set this all up.’

He grunts.

‘Are you mad at me?’

‘Kinda.’

Well, now you feel bad.

‘I’m sorry,’ you sit up and turn to face him, maintaining eye contact as you explain, ‘Had I known it would’ve offended you, I wouldn’t have done it.’

But she was so integral in all of this, a part of you’s glad you did. . .

‘Oh, come on, Jude.’

He’s pouting, your big baby.

‘Cheer up, will you?’ you straddle him, cupping his face to gently stroke his cheek with your thumb. ‘I’m really sorry.’

It’s about another minute of silence and avoided eye contact, and you’re about to give up and on the verge of tears when:

‘Babe, I’m only messing with you.’

A quiet beat, then there’s relief, followed by loud laughter.

‘That wasn’t funny,’ you grouse, slapping him lightly on his chest. ‘I almost cried, you know.’

‘Come here,’ he pulls you into him.

The traces of alcohol still linger in his speech, but he’s significantly sobered up since he got home ten minutes ago.

‘I can’t believe you’re pregnant.’

And you can’t remember the last time Jude was this excited about something outside of football. His reaction almost makes you wish you had waited to share the news with him on his birthday, but that wouldn’t have worked because he’ll be in Germany then with the national team for the Euros.

‘What are you thinking?’

‘How the pill doesn’t work a hundred percent,’ you pull away.

But then again, with all the jet setting you’ve been doing, you probably weren’t taking it at the same time every day.

With a flash of his signature smile, he concurs.

‘My knees are starting to hurt,’ you announce as you move off of his lap and back to your previous spot between his legs.

Jude places a hand over your stomach, and with your hands over his larger ones, you move them lower to the pelvic area.

‘There.’

He chuckles. ‘You know, I always dreamed of being a young dad.’

You didn’t know this about him.

‘Not at twenty-one,’ he continues, ‘but you know, in my twenties.’

It’s comforting to know that this baby fits into his life plan.

‘How about you?’

‘I don’t know,’ you admit after a moment of consideration.

You’re still wrapping your head around the turn your life’s taken. The WAG thing kinda blindsided you, the fame too. The craziest part of this all is that you’ve made a career of it, built an entire brand.

‘But I’m not mad at this plot twist.’

‘Our kid’s a plot twist?’ he chuckles.

You nod. ‘Clearly we weren’t paying attention in sex education.’

He kisses the top of your head.

‘Dr Hernandez said that the baby’s about the size of a blueberry,’ you tell him.

It’s such a random fact, but you feel compelled to share it with him.

‘That’s really tiny.’

‘Right?’

Jude keeps rubbing over the area, and you have an inkling he’ll make a habit of this.

Some minutes pass, and then you remember that the camera’s still going, so you excuse yourself from Jude.

‘Where’re you going?’

His grip is firm around your waist.

‘I’m going to get the camera.’

He looks confused, but he releases you. On bended knees, you shuffle over to the other end of the island to quickly grab it, but you don’t stop the recording. When you get back to Jude, you find him in a daze, silently staring at the sonogram in his hand.

‘She’s so tiny,’ he comments when you sit at your previous spot, facing him.

‘She?’

Talk about wanting to be a girl dad.

‘You think the baby’s a girl?’

He looks up to find a camera in his face. ‘What, you think it’s a boy?’

You shrug, you haven’t actually given it much thought. ‘Well, do you think you can handle a mini me?’

He makes a face.

‘Ah, take it back,’ you giggle.

He takes the camera and turns the lens to you. ‘Well, now I’m asking you. Y/N, do you think Baby Bellingham’s a girl or a boy?’

You pause to think about it. A mini you or a mini Jude, how difficult. ‘Well, I’m going the opposite, I think Baby Bellinghamʼs a boy.’

You snuggle into him, ear pressed against his chest, camera still in your face, but you’re both in the frame. One fact people don’t know about your boyfriend is that he’s a master vlogger, and he’s actually recorded many segments for your vlogs that will never see the light of day because when it comes to Jude, you’re a shameless gatekeeper.

‘I want to shower before bed,’ he proclaims once the recording has stopped. ‘Join me?’

You’ve already taken your shower, but you figure a second one wouldn’t hurt. Jude takes your hand and leads you out of the closet and into the bathroom, where you strip out of your clothes.

‘Is it my imagination, or are your boobs getting bigger?’

Huh?

You look down at your exposed breasts, ‘Are you joking?’

‘No, I’m not,’ with a hand on each shoulder, he turns you towards the mirror. ‘Look.’

You’re looking at them, but they still look the same to you, but he’s adamant. Then, in a move you deem perverted—in a good way, of course—, he cups them in his hands.

‘What are you doing?’ At this point, you can’t contain your laughter.

‘How are you not seeing this?’

He must’ve drank more than you realise, because what the fuck is this?

‘Are you high?’

His face twists with disapproval, ‘No, why?’

‘The boobs,’ you turn to him, ‘what’s with the sudden fascination with them?’

‘I like your boobs, you know this.’

You do. And you like his butt.

‘Come,’ you wrap your hand around his wrist and pull him into the shower. ‘I think you’re tired.’

And horny.

You turn the faucet to run the water.

As you’d imagine, not much showering is done.

‘Careful not to wet your hair,’ you warn him, but it’s too late.

‘I don’t care,’ he says flippantly as he takes your face between his hands and leans over to kiss you.

This is not what you came here to do.

You’re both covered in suds.

‘Jude, I need to rinse my body.’

‘Later,’ he mutters against your lips.

‘Jude!’ you squeal.

He’s such a Silly Billy when he wants to be.

You gasp into his passionate kiss when you suddenly feel the cold shower wall against your back. In a swift and slick movement, Jude trails kisses across your left shoulder and you tilt your head to one side to give him better access to your neck.

A soft moan escapes your parted lips as he sucks on the sensitive skin.

‘Jude. . .’

You want to tell him to stop, but the hand on his naked lower back pulls him into to you.

He hums into the kiss as his hand moves up your body to cup your boob, ‘Tonight, you’ve made me the happiest man alive.’

His vulnerability catches you off guard, how can you not give into him. . .

///

For breakfast this morning, you’re making honey butter toast using a recipe you found on the internet. It’s your first time making it and you’re not entirely sure what you’re doing here, but Jude saw it on Pinterest the other week and begged you to make it, so that’s what he’ll have for breakfast.

It’s a simple enough recipe, but knowing you and your iffy cooking skills, this could either be a major success or an epic fail—nothing in the middle. If it does fail though, you’ve got the regular bacon and egg fry-up on standby.

But only positive thoughts in this kitchen.

You’ve got your favourite morning playlist going softly in the background, and today’s what you consider the perfect Saturday morning. The sun is fully out, and the expansive windows of the apartment allow for the natural light to pour into the space and warms it.

You put the toast into the oven and set the timer.

At the end of the summer, your lease for this apartment will be up, but the likelihood of you extending it has significantly shrunk with the latest development in your life. The song goes, “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Y/N with a baby carriage,” but you’ve skipped parts, so some things need to be shifted around.

That means that the house hunting that you’ve been putting off needs to start. . . now, really.

This is where Coralie comes in handy, but you’re not talking to her. She actually reached out to you Sunday morning to apologise for your awkward encounter at the restaurant that night. Her text read:

Coralie: Last night, I overstepped and I’m really sorry and embarrassed by my actions. Please forgive me.

You’re yet to respond to the text, but you don’t plan to anytime soon because you don’t accept her stupid apology. As far as you’re concerned, she’s an insignificant homewrecker. She is two-faced and vindictive and incredibly cruel for subjecting you to such humiliation.

She laughed with you, acted like a friend when she was fucking your man behind your back for six months.

‘Bitch,’ you mumble as you load the dishes into the wash.

But she’s not worth the time, emotions, nor the energy. So with a deep breath, you bop thoughts of her out of your mind, and move on with your day.

Easy.

A half hour later, breakfast is ready to be served. You’ve gone all out with this meal, and it would be an absolute shame to not take a picture to post onto your IG story. Very quickly, you snap a picture to post later, and take the food to your sleeping boyfriend before the ice-cream starts to melt.

He’s still fast asleep, but he’s since shifted sleeping positions, and he’s hugging your pillow.

How cute?

When he wakes up, you expect him to be hungover and grouchy from all his boozing, and you just know he’ll play it up for attention. If there’s one thing you know about your boyfriend it’s that he dies for attention, and he simply cannot resist being babied.

‘Wakey wakey sleepyhead.’

You place the heavy tray onto the bedside table, on the other side of it to avoid it getting bumped by mistake, and attempt to wake him again.

Still, nothing.

‘Jude,’ you mount him, peppering a million tiny kisses against the side of his pretty face. Even in his slumber, he looks perfect. ‘Come on, you got your eight hours, it’s time to wake up.’

He grunts, then sends you away.

‘But I got food,’ you object with feigned sadness.

But he doesnʼt budge.

Alright, sweet coaxing out the window. ‘Babe, I made honey butter toast and the ice-cream’s rapidly melting. Wake up.’

There’s another silent beat and then, ‘What the hell is that?’

Of course he doesn’t remember what it is.

‘Honey butter toast,’ you repeat, as if it’ll somehow miraculously make him know what it is. ‘That bread you saw on Pinterest and begged me to make.’

He’s still clueless, but at least you’ve got his attention. Finally, with a long groan, he sits up, moving cautiously to not send you tumbling to the floor.

‘What time is it?’

‘Ten.’

He cusses softly as he rubs his face. ‘I’m supposed to meet with my parents at eleven.’

You didn’t know that.

But it’s clearly nothing pressing because he doesn’t seem fazed by the fact that he’s running late. He yawns, rubs his eyes and face some more, then turns to you—sitting comfortably on his lap—and smiles. ‘Good morning.’

You mirror his expression. ‘Morning. You hungry?’

‘Starving. What’s for breakfast?’

‘Here,’ you slide off his lap to take the tray and hand it to him. ‘It’s my first time making it, so be nice.’

He assesses the tray of food you’ve placed before him, then looks back up at you. ‘Nine out of ten for the presentation.’

Your brows furrow, ‘Why not ten?’

‘Some of the ice-cream has melted and it looks a bit sloppy.’

‘Yeah, and who’s fault is that?’

He lets out a hearty laugh, but you’re not amused by this judge.

You climb back onto the bed, your eyes fixed on Jude as he puts the first forkful of the honey butter toast, with a little bit of the vanilla ice-cream and salted caramel sauce, into his mouth.

He chews, then he moans, his eyes widen, more chewing, and then finally, he swallows.

This is a good reaction.

‘You like it?’

‘I love it,’ he cuts another piece of the toast. ‘Ten out of ten for the taste. Did you make the ice-cream and caramel sauce yourself?’

‘Alright, Paul Hollywood.’ You grab the extra fork you had on the tray and dig in—curious about the taste—and are met with protests from Jude. ‘I just want a little taste.’

‘Get your own.’

Your bottom lip juts out, it’s your turn to pout. ‘Yeah, but I’m pregnant.’

With a heavy sigh, he proclaims, ‘And so it starts.’

You can’t help but laugh at his solemn tone.

The two of you remain in bed, even after he’s finished having his breakfast, because his outing with his parents has now been postponed to two o’clock. If it were any other day, you’d join them, but you promised to accompany Winnie to the art gallery and you don’t think you can get out of it.

Turning into your side, Jude questions, ‘Why does she have to go to the art gallery?’

Because she’s in her art girl era, inspired by her latest fling, an up-and-coming visual artist from Portugal. His name’s Baltasar, and they met at Coachella a couple months back, and lately, he’s all she ever talks about. You think she’s in love.

‘A visual artist?’

‘Yep.’

‘So he’s broke?’

‘Hey, don’t be mean,’ you chide.

He doesn’t care though, he thinks it’s funny.

‘You’re such an asshole, d’you know that?’

‘Babe, I’m just kidding.’

Yeah, right.

‘Well, she really likes him so if she mentions it to you, keep the bad jokes to yourself.’

‘Noted,’ his mouth connects with your cheek.

The conversation smoothly transitions from Winnie’s new boyfriend to Jobe, who’s relentlessly trying to convince his older brother to take a short trip to Ibiza before he has to report for international duty. You think it’s a great idea, a final hoorah before it gets serious again.

‘Will you come with?’

‘Ibiza sober? Count me out.’

‘I’ll drink for the both of us.’

‘Uh, definitely not,’ your fingers glide up and down his naked back. ‘And I think Jobe wants this to be a boy’s trip. No girlfriends.’

‘But you’re not my girlfriend.’

Huh? ‘I’m not?’

‘You recently got upgraded to baby mum.’

He’s an idiot. Who even laughs at their own jokes this much? Either way, you’re not going to Ibiza with them. It’s another half hour of mindless chatter before you ask,

‘What time is it?’

‘Early.’

‘Jude, I’m being serious,’ you reach blindly for your phone and find it on the other end of the bed. ‘I need to start getting ready.’

‘Can’t you postpone it for another day?’

‘Winnie leaves tomorrow night.’

But he’s not budging, and so you have to use all of your might to shove him off of you.

Your strength leaves him shook. ‘Where’d that come from?’

‘It’s all those training sessions you’re paying for.’

He swells with pride—men.

‘Will you join me?’

Jude perks up.

‘But we’re only showering, nothing else.’

And he’s dejected.

‘I’ll just sit on the side and watch.’

That’s fine by you.

He follows you into the bathroom, and you think you hear him mumble something about you making it worth his while.

///

What your gallery date conveniently forgot to mention was that Baltasar would be joining your gallery excursion. Had you known he’d be here, you would’ve asked Jude to tag along so it could be a double date or something.

Jude: How’s it going? 🖼️

You’re miserable here, and you’re pretty sure you’re third wheeling. And look, you want to be supportive of your best friend, right? But it’s so hard to be when the guy she’s seeing’s the textbook definition of an asshole.

You’re one pretentious comment away from faking morning sickness to get out of this.

You: I’m having the worst time

You: The art is great, but he’s so smug 🙄

And he’s rude, so rude, and he’s determined to talk over you.

Jude: The artist? 🎨🧑‍🎨

You: Yeah, I don’t think he likes me :/

And you’d actually be doing him a favour by leaving, you’d be doing you both the favour because at this point, you feel like you’re intruding and you’re starting to feel awkward.

Jude: Well fuck him

His text makes you chortle.

At least Winnie’s making an effort to include you. Every now and again, she’ll ask for your opinion on certain pieces, but in the end, you just can’t do it.

You can’t be here anymore.

‘Hey,’ you lightly tap Winnie’s shoulder.

She turns to regard you, ‘Hey, what’s up?’

‘Can I talk to you for a second?’

‘Sure.’

She excuses herself from Baltasar, who’s really displeased with your intrusion, and you find a quiet corner.

‘Is everything okay?’

‘Yeah, everything’s fine, the art’s great, but I’m not feeling too hot.’

‘Oh no,’ her brows knit in concern, ‘is it morning sickness?’

She’s buying it, good.

‘I think I’m going to head home, you know, to lie down for a couple hours.’

‘Yeah, alright,’ she takes your hand in hers and lightly squeezes it.

‘But how will you get back to the apartment?’

You are her ride home after all.

‘I was planning on spending the rest of the afternoon with Baltasar,’ she looks over her shoulder at him and when she looks back at you, she’s blushing, ‘but what about you? Are you fine to drive in your condition?’

‘It’s just a little nausea, I promise I’ll be fine.’

It takes a minute to convince her, but you don’t relent, and in the end, you manage to convince her.

‘Now go,’ you nudge her towards her waiting love interest. ‘Have fun with your boyfriend–’

‘Uh, he’s not my boyfriend,’ she quickly interjects, her voice dropping to a scolding whisper.

You smile knowingly, sure he isn’t.

‘What makes you say he’s my boyfriend? Did he say something to you?’

‘No, but I saw the way you were looking at him,’ you shrug, ‘the way he was looking at you.’

Winnie’s uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden.

‘I’ve clearly misread the situation,’ you start backing away from her. ‘But we’ll talk more about it later, okay?’

‘Promise to text me when you get home.’

‘I pinky promise to call you when I get home,’ you blow her a kiss.

You wave goodbye to Baltsar, who seems pleased to see you go, and then you’re out of there.

It’s a short drive home from the gallery, and you’re glad to be back home, but you wish Jude was here with you.

You: I miss you.

As soon as the message’s sent, you regret sending it. But you can always blame pregnancy for making you so clingy.

You fall back onto the bed with a long exhale. What to do with your time? You could watch a movie or you could go the self-care route.

The other day, a skincare brand sent you a few collagen face masks you’ve been dying to try. It’s one of those that melts into your skin. And since you’re on that path, you can also soak in the tub ‘cause you haven’t done that in a while. And if you’re really up to it, maybe you can do your nails.

But first:

You: Got home safe. Have fun with your friend ;) can’t wait to hear about it later x

Jude misses you too. He’s also still with his parents but should be home before dinner.

You: Did you tell them about… 🫄

Jude: No. I thought we’d do it together.

That’s a good plan.

You: Great idea. I’ll see you later, I love you x

Jude: I love you more 😘

Dinner time’s a while away, so you’ve got plenty of time to have your self-care afternoon.

The tub is halfway full, the bubbles foaming, the steam and aroma engulfing the space when your phone notifies you that someone’s at the door.

Your body’s sheathed by a robe, but you still feel indecent as you make your way to the door.

The doorbell goes off a second time just before you reach the door, and when you open it, the last person you expect to find standing on the other side of it is Coralie.

Yes, Coralie’s at your door and she looks like. . . Well, she looks like shit.

‘Y/N,’ she forces her lips into a tight smile. ‘Hi.’

The shock has you frozen for a moment, but you’re quick to recover. ‘Jude’s not home.’

You’re curt because you want her out of your sight and you’ve left the water running in the bathroom.

‘I know he isn’t.’

She does?

‘I’m not here to see Jude, I’m actually here to see you.’

Of course she’s here to see you.

‘Why?’

‘‘Cause there’s so much we need to talk about, woman to woman.’

“Woman to woman”, what a joke? And it takes everything in you to stop your eyes from rolling. What the fuck does that even mean?

‘Can’t we schedule this for another time? I’m kinda in a rush.’

‘It won’t take long, I promise.’

Hell, she can’t take a hint, can she?

‘Can I come in?’

‘We can’t talk about whatever it is here?’ you tighten your grip around the door handle to stop your hand from shaking. ‘I mean, you said it yourself, it won’t take long.’

‘Yeah, but it’s weird doing it at the door, so can I come in?’

‘You’re in no position to call the shots.’

‘Please,’ she sounds desperate. ‘I just need ten minutes of your time, then I promise I’ll go.’

The more you look at her, the worse she looks. Honestly, she looks like she’s been to hell and back, and if you didn’t hate her so much, you’d feel sympathy.

‘Ten minutes, then you have to leave.’

‘That’s all I ask, thank you.’

And so despite your better judgement, you step to one side to allow her into the apartment. As you shut the door, you offer her a drink.

‘I’ll have a water, thank you.’

‘We’ve got water in the fridge.’ You walk towards your bedroom to shut off the running water, ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’

On the short trek, you dig your phone from your robe pocket.

You: Coralie’s here she says she wants to talk but i’m uneasy

You shut the faucet. You quickly change out of your robe into the first clothing items you stumble upon, which are the sweats Jude was wearing earlier. They’re loosely fitting, but they’re comforting because they smell like him.

Coralie’s in the living room, bottle of water in hand, and she’s focused on something out the window.

‘Sorry I took so long.’

Your sudden intrusion snaps her out of her reverie, ‘It’s fine.’

Her eyes are fixed on you as you move around the space to take your seat on the sectional, feet tucked beneath your bum.

This is so awkward.

‘So,’ you start, breaking the ice, ‘you said you wanted to talk?’

You heard Jude out, so it’s only fair that you hear Coralie’s side of the story.

‘Right,’ she clears her throat. ‘I assume you know about our. . .’

‘Affair?’

She winces at your choice of words.

‘Yeah, I do.’

‘And he told you everything?’

‘That you got drunk last December and hooked up? That you’ve been hooking up behind my back for the last six months?’

She sits perfectly still, but her trembling lower lip betrays her.

‘That you were sending inappropriate texts, pictures, and videos. . .’ you continue, pleased to see her squirm in her seat. ‘Am I missing anything else?’

It’s only been, what? Five days since you last saw her, but in the short time span, she’s aged a decade. Coralie’s never disclosed her age, but you’ve always placed her in her late-twenties, maybe early-thirties, but today she looks well into her forties.

‘How did you find out?’

‘I saw the drunk text you sent him, what did it say again?’ you pause for dramatic effect. ‘Right, “I’m drunk and I miss you. Call me.”’

She’s fidgeting with the bottle in her hand, her head bowing in shame. ‘Y/N, I’m really sorry.’

‘What are you apologising for?’

‘All of it.’ She looks up at you, ‘I’m sorry that you found out the way you did.’

You hear her, but you’re not ready to accept her apology. Especially because she’s cutting into your self-care time with this crap.

‘Who made the first move?’

‘Jude did.’

Your heart aches at the revelation, it’s like someone has driven a sharp knife into it.

‘He was upset at you, he didn’t say why but he was really cut up about a fight you had,’ she proceeds. ‘And if it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else.’

You think you might throw up.

‘But he was drunk, we both were, and. . .’ her voice trails.

An uncomfortable silence descends upon the room because really, what else is there to say?

‘Do you love him?’

‘Does it matter?’

It doesn’t matter, but you want to know. Let’s say it’s curiosity.

‘He’s hard not to love.’

That’s true.

‘But am I in love with him? No.’

Some of the tension in your shoulders eases.

‘And he doesn’t love me either,’ and she almost sounds sad when she says that. ‘It was only ever sex between us, nothing more.’

But the texts. . . what did they mean?

‘Nothing,’ she insists. ‘Call it harmless flirtation.’

‘Harmless?’

She flushes, ‘You know what I mean.’

So you now know that he was mad at you, they were both drunk, they fucked and you think Coralie regrets it, but you’re not sure.

‘Who pursued it?’

‘What?’

‘Your. . . thing, the affair,’ it irks you to say it.

‘Oh, Y/N, I don’t think you–’

‘Was it Jude?’

‘He loves you.’

‘I know he loves me.’

Coralie’s quiet which furthers your frustration at her.

‘Did he pursue the affair?’

‘Why does it matter? It doesn’t change anything because in the end, he chose you.’ It’s like it pains her to say it. ‘He’ll always choose you.’

You nod.

After another long and awkward silence, she professes, ‘You know, I felt awful deceiving you because you really are such a good person.’

‘Don’t start with that crap.’

‘No, I mean it. You’re a good person, and we were friends–’

‘We were never friends,’ you interrupt. ‘You were never my friend.’

You tolerated her, there’s a difference.

‘I know you’re upset with me, and trust me, I get it, but come on,’ she persists. ‘We were friendly with each other.’

‘You sleep with all your friends’ boyfriends?’

That shuts her up.

‘Look, Coralie, I appreciate the apology,’ you pull your phone from the sweatpants pocket to check the time and discover eight missed calls from Jude. ‘But you said you’d be here for ten minutes, and you’ve exceeded that time.’

‘I know, and I’m really sorry about that, but there’s one last thing I want to tell you.’

Your stomach twists with dread—she better not tell you that she’s pregnant. The cheating you can move past, but a child you can’t recover from.

‘You’re pregnant?’

‘What?’ She looks offended that you’d even ask her that question. ‘No, I’m not pregnant.’

You sigh in relief.

She’s not pregnant, but she did lose her job. She received the call this morning to let her know that her services were no longer required by the club. She’s certain Jude had something to do with it, so she’s here to plead with you to talk sense into him.

‘And I meant what I said, I really am sorry for the inconvenience that I’ve caused in your life, but Y/N, I really need this job,’ she concludes.

‘How are you so sure he had something to do with it?’

She shoots you an incredulous look as if to say, ‘Really?’

‘And if he did have something to do with it, what makes you think he’d listen to anything I have to say?’

‘Because you told him to end our arrangement and he did.’

‘But you said it yourself, you mean nothing to him.’

She flinches again.

‘I mean, I can try to talk to him, but I can’t promise you anything.’

‘Thank you,’ she smiles. ‘That’s all I ask.’

‘Well, like I said, I have somewhere to be so–’

You don’t get to finish the sentence, ‘cause you’re cut off by a panicked Jude who storms into the apartment, followed by an equally panicked Mark.

‘Babe?’

Thank the heavens he’s here.

///

You wake up in the middle of the night to find Jude’s side of the bed empty. At first you think he’s in the bathroom, but when five minutes pass and he’s not back, the panic sets in. You grab your phone off of the bedside table to check the time: 2:38.

Where the hell is he?

You sit up and search the dark room for traces of him, but there’s nothing—only his phone on the bedside table.

It’s been hours since your confrontation with Coralie, but you’re yet to process it all. You’re still in shock at the fact that she rocked up at your door the way she did, but you’d be lying if you said the conversation wasn’t cathartic.

‘Jude?’

You push the covers away and climb off of the bed. After you locate your house shoes, you set out to find him.

His phone is here, so he shouldn’t be far.

‘Jude?’

As you make your trek down the short passage, you hear soft chatter coming from the TV room. When you turn the corner, you find Jude sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, feet resting on the coffee table.

A smile takes over your face at the sight of him.

‘Hey, you,’ he greets you as you crawl into his lap.

‘Hi,’ you tuck your face in the crook of his neck and inhale his scent. ‘What are you watching?’

‘Pulp Fiction.’

Of course he is.

‘Why’re you up?’

You trace patterns on his t-shirt clad chest. ‘I woke up and you weren’t in bed. I panicked.’

He tightens his arms around you, ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know,’ you sit up. ‘This pregnancy has me acting weird.’

‘Yeah, blame it on the pregnancy,’ he teases.

‘Shut up,’ you shift to straddle him. ‘Why are you sitting here alone?’

His hands settle on your waist, ‘I didn’t want to wake you.’

There’s still so much to discuss in terms of Coralie and her claims, but tonight just isn’t the time for that.

‘Do you think we’ll ever be okay again?’

‘Yeah,’ he takes your mouth into a deep kiss.

‘Come to bed with me,’ you whisper against his lips, moaning when he slips a hand between you, teasing his fingers through your slick folds.

‘I don’t think we’ll make it to bed.’

///

Tagged:

@luv4bellingham

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham scenario #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #Jude Bellingham one shot #Jude Bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham fanfiction #Jude Bellingham scenarios

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tinkerleaf · 2 months

Text

Nose Bleeds

Hi, everyone! In my head, this was hilarious, but I don't think it translates as well in writing.

Synopsis: Dazai wasn't stupid, but he was when it came to spatial awareness. Gn reader, lots of love from the agency.

Warnings: mention of blood, Dazai kinda ooc?

Words: 655

-----------------------------------------------

Ahh, the sweet smell of fresh baked cookies.

You carefully took them out of the oven and waited for them to cool before placing them into a Tupperware to take to the agency with you. You loved baking for the agency, and they definitely loved it too. Ranpo was especially happy when you brought in a bag of taffy from your hometown after visiting. It was impressive that his teeth weren’t rotten.

After a nice walk to the office, you open the door to the fourth floor. Of course, the same chaos as usual. Always heartwarming.

Your footsteps sounded all the way to your desk that sat next to Dazai’s. Ranpo was immediately by your side, pilfering through the container that held the sweets he was after.

“Hold on, hold on! I didn’t say you could have any yet!” you snagged your cookies back, scolding the detective for his behavior.

“Well what are you waiting for? I’m getting hungry.”

“Just for that, You’ll be the last person to get one.”

He was flabbergasted, a look of utter betrayal on his face. He sighed and went back to his chair, propping his feet up on the desk.

“Mr. Kunikida, would you like one?”

He looked you from above his glasses as he held an empty palm to you. “Yes, please.”

While the other agents began to flood your desk for cookies, you left to use the restroom. When you came back, you saw Dazai standing by his desk, an hour late. He was telling some story about how why he was delayed, and Kunikida was clearly not having it. They didn’t notice that you were back, too involved with their current endeavors.

Dazai is the type of man to talk with his hands and body, and to hear him talk could be quite mesmerizing. However, this time, when describing something in particular, he whipped his hand around him and hit you with the back of his hand. You fell backward immediately. Atsushi and Kunikida gasped loudly at the loud smack to your face. Dazai’s head shot straight back to where you were, immediately grabbing your shoulders with wide eyes. “Oh my God, are you okay?! What were you thinking coming up behind me like that?!”

I held my hands out defensively, “I’m okay! I’m okay!” I tried pushing him away, to no avail.

“You’re bleeding!” Atsushi pointed out.

“Someone get Yosano! Their nose is bleeding!” Kunikida ordered. Junichiro went to fetch the doctor. “You idiot, you need to be more careful!”

“I didn’t think they’d be right behind me!”

“I’m really fine! There’s no need for-” You were muffled by an ice pack shoved in your face.

“You’re crying!”

“I’m not trying to!”

“Can you see clearly? Do you feel dizzy?”

“He didn’t hit me that hard…”

“Let’s take them to my office,” Yosano offered after appearing. After about thirty minutes, you were patched up as good as new. Of course, not without a few members popping in to check in on you every now and then.

Dazai stayed in the infirmary with you until you were completely fine. You saw him watch you from across the room, leaning against the wall. He came closer to where you were sitting. “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah! Just some bruising.” You flashed him a smile.

“That’s good. Sorry about all of that. I really didn’t see you there.”

“Don’t feel bad, I know you didn’t mean to.” You hopped up from your seat as the two of you meandered back across the hall to the office.

For the rest of the day, Dazai brought you ice packs when you needed new ones. He also teases you for not dodging him, saying that he was testing you.

“Did you ever get a cookie, Dazai?” you ask, looking for your container.

“Yes, actually. They were really good. It seems everyone else thought so as well.”

“I can’t seem to find the…Ranpo!”

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bewitchedme-body-and-soul · 9 months

Text

all sides of you

a/n: this came to me late at night and i had to write it; shout out to @humanalien01 for helping me and supporting my simping. idk how i feel abt the ending tbh :/

summary: a night at josies bar leads to you admitting your thoughts about the devil of hell's kitchen, and a few months later your words come back to haunt you.

word count:2427

warnings: swearing, canon typical violence, reader is victim in an attempted mugging & fights back, cursing, reader is called a bitch

Standing around the pool table at Josie's bar with the Nelson and Murdock team, playful banter spewn between the four of you. Each of you taking turns shooting while also trying to make the others mess up. The laughter coming from the four of you carrying throughout the bar, the three deserved this after a hard case, and you being Matt's partner were happily invited. Foggy happily uses you as a means to try to embarrass Matt with silly stories from their college years. You and Karen, doubling over in laughter as Foggy finishes his current story, Matt's cheeks tinted pink. Upon noticing you move closer to him, pressing a quick kiss against his cheek, then resting your head against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around your middle.

It's not until Foggy scoffs begrudgingly that your attention and Matts is pulled away to look at what Foggy's upset about. On one of the Tvs hanging around the bar you notice a news story about The Devil Of Hell's Kitchen. Foggy going on a rant about how he thought the man was bad news while you stared at the grainy footage someone caught of the man decked out in all black, as he beat up a group of gang members. You slowly zoned out as you watched how the man in the mask’s body contorted as he flipped and took the bad men out.

“Y/n!” Foggy's voice pulled you out of your daydream, your head snapping to look in his direction, giving him a hum in acknowledgement. “What do you think? What's your opinion on the masked man?” he asks, you know he's hoping you'll take his side.

Your cheeks tint a slight pink at the question, aware of the two pairs of eyes locked on you and Matt's head tilting, obviously also looking forward to your answer. “Um, i don't really have one” you lie, moving to lean over the pool table and shoot one of the balls. Karen's giggle goes in tandem with the clack of the cue ball hitting one of the stripped balls.

“You're lying!” Foggy calls out pointing an accusatory finger at you, “did you know lying is a sin? I can't believe you would do such a thing while dating our good Catholic Matt Murdock” he gasps a hand over his heart like you wounded him deeply with your tiny fib. The smile on Matt’s face tells you he did not care and he finds Foggy's dramatics hilarious.

“Oh no, however will you forgive me, my love?” you gasp dramatically leaning against Matt. “But seriously my opinion on the man in the mask isn't that important.” you say trying to move on.

Karen laughs before speaking “oh, trust me, too foggy it is very important, and honestly now I’m interested cause it's been just me vs foggy about this since Matt tries to stay out of these conversations” after she's done speaking the attention turns back to you. You sigh as Matt moves to take his turn, now seeing you have no way out of this conversation.

“I don't know, I don't think he has bad intentions or anything” you shrug before continuing “He’s also kinda hot” you say the second part quieter. The other three members of your party all have varying reactions, Karen laughing, Matt giving an awkward chuckle, and Foggy with his over the top dramatics acting as if you’ve insulted his mother. You watch Matt out of the corner of your eye worrying you may have upset him, you’d only been dating a month and a half, the relationship still new, you're still learning things about the other. What if you hurt him?

Foggy's voice pulls you out of your anxiety fueled downward spiral. “I can't believe you would do this to me” he speaks with a voice obviously trying to make you feel bad for not agreeing with him. He puts his head in his hand as he begins to fake cry. You and Karen look at each other before you both double over laughing, Matt joining in as Foggy's fake cries ramp up at your laughing.

You spend another few hours at Josies before you all decide to part ways, you going home with Matt after deciding to spend the night. Once you're in his apartment your anxiety returns from the prior conversation. You both make your way to his bedroom and change into clothes you can sleep in. It's only when you're both in bed, your head on his chest as he rubs your back, that you decide to broach the subject. “Hey Matty, can I ask you a question?” he hums in response. “Earlier at Josies, did I upset you?” you question, heart rate picking up slightly.

Matt feels your heart rate pick up so he quickly leans forward to kiss your forehead before he smiles at you with a soft chuckle, “no, not at all, I trust you, it’s no different than the people who have a crush on the avengers.” you sigh at his words. Anxiety subsiding, you know Matt well enough he wouldn’t lie to you about something like this. You nestle closer to him before grabbing his other hand and kissing his knuckles, ignoring the cracks and healed over abrasions. “Besides, I know I’m your favorite” he says and you don't need to look at him to know he's wearing that cocky grin of his.

You roll your eyes at him “i suppose” You tease him, no matter who came to you and professed their love, you knew you’d always choose Matt. You feel his chest vibrate under your cheek as he laughs. Eventually the two of you fall asleep in eachothers arms.

~~~

A month passes and you forget the aforementioned conversation ever happened. So many things happening that small moments get buried and forgotten about so easily. It's not till you're walking home one night that the conversation gets catapulted back to the forefront of your mind.

On your way home from a girl date with Karen you get yanked into an alley and thrown against one of the brick walls of a building. The bricks sharp and your head immediately begins to throb as your head smacks against it. A hand goes over your mouth and fight or flight takes over as you feel your heart rate pick up and the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. You struggle before biting down with all your might on the hand, the taste of copper coats your tongue. The man who grabbed you yanks his hand back and you spit the blood out onto his face before screaming, hoping you’d be lucky enough for someone to be close enough to hear you. You knew basic self defense but you’d rather be safe and hope someone would at least call emergency services.

“You bitch” the man yells before slapping you across the face. You bring your knee up in an attempt to connect it with his groin. His hand shoots down, your knee still connects but not with as much force as you hoped. As you attempt to shove him off you hear a thud to the side of you and you can only hope that it’s some good samaritan here to save you. It's only a few seconds later your attacker is yanked off of you and thrown to the ground.

You watch with bated breath as the man in the mask repeatedly punches the guy in the face and head. Once he finishes he makes his way over to you, you can hear him speaking to you, asking if you're alright, but you're distracted by the shape of his jaw and the way his lips move. A sense of familiarity washes over you and you're unsure as to why.

“I’m fine, thank you, I just need to get home.” You quickly rush out before speed walking away. Wanting to be in the safety of yours and Matt's home as quickly as possible, and wanting to scrub your mouth to rid it of the copper taste. A part of you hoping Matt is home so you can just crash into his arms and sleep.

You arrive home to an empty apartment, the billboard on the building across the alley lighting up the living room. You drop your jacket and bag on the counter before moving to the bathroom and brushing your teeth for far longer than the usual two minutes. Afterwards moving to your shared bedroom and changing into the clothes you'd be sleeping in.

As you're changing you spot a picture of you and Matt on top of your dresser. You pause, taking a moment to admire your partner, that's when it hits you. The sense of familiarity, why the bottom half of the devil of hell's kitchen face looked so familiar. You'd kissed those lips hundreds of times, it's no wonder your body recognized them. Everything begins falling into place in your head, like placing the last puzzle pieces in a puzzle and seeing the finale picture.

Matt's injuries always lined up with when you'd see the man in the mask on the new fighting bad guys. How a part of you always believed there was more to the story than him just falling or whatever excuse he’d give you. He was always so careful, far too careful to just take a tumble as often as he’d tell everyone. You never called him out cause even if a part of you believed he was lying you trusted him enough that you never questioned. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door opening and Matt's voice calling out for you.

“In the bedroom!” you call back, wondering if he’ll tell you or if you'd have to call him out and question him. You hear him approach and turn to look at him, he looks relatively unharmed, ‘that's good’ you think. “Hey baby.” you can't help the small smile that graces your features, he moves closer to where your voice came from, reaching a hand out towards you. Once he reaches you he wraps his arms around you pressing a kiss against the top of your head. You hear and feel him take a deep breath, you wouldn't be surprised if he was also a little shaken up, he’d just saved his partner from being mugged, you wouldn’t blame him if he was. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes before you decide you can't take it anymore.

“Baby?” you begin, he hums in response. You take a deep breath before you continue, turning in his arms and wrapping your arms around his neck. “When were you gonna tell me?” you question, you figure it's best to just rip the bandaid off.

“Tell you what sweetheart?” he questions tilting his head, eyebrows furrowing. He looked like a puppy, confused by the trick its owner is trying to teach it. You understand why he’d try and play this off but you also wish he’d just be honest. Your face morphs into a deadpan expression.

“Matty, seriously, you know what I’m talking about.” You cross your arms over your chest. “When were you going to tell me youre daredevil?” you question. He huffs out a small laugh.

“What? Honey what are you talking about? I’m not the daredevil.” he lies through his teeth.

“I know you can’t see my face but just know it's a look of disappointment cause you should really be better at lying if you're gonna be a vigilante.” you speak before moving just out of matts reach. Deciding he could touch you again when he confessed. A defeated sigh leaves him, you assume he's come to the conclusion that there’s no way of getting out of this without being honest.

“I don't know, honestly.” he begins “I always wanted to tell you, I hated lying to you, especially after seeing how worried you’d get.” he takes his glasses off sitting them on your dresser. “I was waiting for the right moment I guess. I was worried how you’d react, I didn’t want to lose you.” he finishes looking in your direction. He looks like a puppy that just got scolded and was trying to look cute to get out of punishment.

“First of all, low blow, you know your puppy eyes work way too well on me” you speak trying not to giggle. “Second, Matt I’m literally so in love with you, it’d take a lot more than you running around at night in a mask beating up criminals to lose me.” Now the laugh escapes you, a smile making its way to his face as well at your laugh. He moves closer to you again, hands landing on your waist, before he leans in to kiss you.

“You handled this a lot better than Foggy did,” he laughs. “Also, if you were wondering, yes, i am actually blind”

“I wasn’t, but good to know.” you laugh “and to be fair, foggy did hate your alter ego.” you lean up to kiss his cheek, “lets go to bed baby” you whisper before crawling into your shared bed as he moves to change into pajamas. Once he joins you in the bed you snuggle into his arms, resting your head over his heart. Thinking over everything as you trace shapes against his chest, it’s then you sit up quickly realizing something. “You little shit!” you yell with a laugh as you playfully hit him in the chest.

“What? What’d I do?” he asks shock and confusion taking his features

“A few months ago, at Josies with Foggy and Karen” you begin, you can tell by the look his face morphs to that he's beginning to understand. His cocky smile finding his face again. “I confessed that I thought the daredevil was hot and you just let me?” you ask incredulously “no wonder you were so unphased by it” you playfully shove his shoulder

“Would it help if I said I found it very flattering that you did?” he laughed “but seriously, that was when I started seriously thinking about telling you. It made me feel a little bit better about it.” he speaks, moving his hand to rub against your knee.

“Maybe, it does a little,” you confess. “You're still a little shit though.” you laugh moving to kiss him. “My little shit though” you whisper. The rest of the night is spent full of soft touches and laughter as the two of you bask in your love of the other.

#they have bewitched me #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x original character #matt murdock x oc

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nnnyxie · 7 months

Note

CAN’T WAIT ANY LONGERRR

So this one is angsty (if you squint) basically reader is Bakugos little sibling (by like a year or two to not make it weird) and they grew up together…And this is kinda mean!Izu x reader but whatever

Izu one day just randomly reflects on Bakugos bullying and is like well fuck him and decides to date his younger sibling to fuck with Bakugo as ‚revenge‘

Failing to inform them he was only dating them to fuck with their brother. He‘s still doting and sweet and oh so loving(he also failed to realize he fell for reader fr)…and on one random Tuesday they just overhear him speaking about it like on the phone to his friends being like „yeah Kacchan is totally pissed it worked like a charm“

Reader absolutely breaks down and runs to Kacchan for comfort because big brother is always the solution🤞 so then Izu dosen’t even realize and tries talking to reader and they just cut all contact and Izu panics and realizes what he feels for them but it‘s too late hehe. (I need some sort of happy ending for reader😭)

Bonus ofcourse would be lots and lots of groveling before they eventually restart, or reader moves on if you‘re not the second chance type..revenge is always the answer🫶🏻 idk both ends would be cute Idk when I turned into an angst Whore I used to be a fluff addict😞 #𖢥 izuku anon

SOBS!!! DRAMATICALLY THROWS MYSELF ONTO THE FLOOR!!!! CLAWS AT MY ENCLOSURE!!!!

i’m not much of a second chance person when it comes to this stuff but……. i like fluff……. so we shall see how the ending goes…….. it’s a wild card for the both of us???

(ps there is swearing bc it’s me…) (pps i did add a part where he said ‘fuckin with my blood’ but i originally had like— an adopted sibling in mind?? so just read however you’d like!!) (ppps i added some comfort from our girlies and kiri bc i LOVE them)

for this we’re gonna pretend like the boys have had no progress in friendship and that they HATE each other with a passion and that season 6 didn’t happen!! AND that they’re in their second year while you, darling reader, are a first year at UA!!

okay so. despite katsuki being such an asshole and probably the most difficult person to deal with— he has such a soft spot for his little sibling!!

he makes it known that if anyone fucks with you— he’ll beat them worse than they could ever imagine. you thought his normal threats were bad? oh sweetheart, these are far worse!! he’ll go into solid detail and even give ‘warning’ hits.

enter izuku, your longtime crush. ever since you were kids, you have always liked him. loved him, even. you admire how ambitious he is and how far he’s come.

izuku was dense about your crush at first, in all honesty. it wasn’t until he overheard your conversation with katsuki in the dorm stairs one day!!

it was something along the lines of “you can’t love that nerd!” “but i do! and if he feels the same i don’t want you ruining this for me!” “you’re too good for him! plus you’re too young to date anyways!” “katsuki, i’m not a baby anymore! look— if he ends up rejecting me then i’ll tell you. and you can do whatever you want, okay?” “okay. and if he accepts then, i’ll punch him too.” “katsuki no—”

izuku usually isn’t the type for petty revenge but— katsuki has hurt him for long enough. so this would be a great way to get back at him, right..?

now let’s dive into izuku’s little plan—

like i said before, he isn’t one to do this sort of thing. he really isn’t but— katsuki just… fuels a fire in him that he can’t put out.

izuku thought this little idea was crazy (it is), so he confided in someone about it— can you guess who?? wanna know who??? the one and only…

kaminari denki!!

that is correct, he confides in kaminari. see— izuku doesn’t tell kaminari that the person is katsuki’s little sibling.

izuku just tells him “i want to piss this guy off by dating their younger sibling but, i feel like that’s crazy…” and kaminari says “nah dude, if that person is a piece of shit then i say go for it. i mean— if they’re shitty then their sibling probably is too!”

which is very incorrect— you and katsuki aren’t alike.

well— you are?? but also aren’t??? if that makes sense

anyways… izuku was STUPID and took his advice.

so— izuku enacts his plan. he’ll fake confess to you, in front of katsuki. it has to be in front of him. he’ll date you for a bit to make katsuki mad, lead you on a little, then break up with you. easy peasy right?

wrong.

first off, he did confess in front of katsuki but, katsuki punched him right in the face.

second, when you accepted his confession, katsuki punched him again. this time in the stomach.

but hey— anything for petty revenge… ig…?

anywhooo y’all get into a relationship!! and it’s a dream for you, truly. you’re with the person you’ve been in love with for basically your entire life!! and that person loves you back!!!

literally everyone is jealous because you’re the couple. the blueprint. the outcome. the relationship. (or so you and the others thought….)

the relationship is… healthy? i mean, it is healthy if you ignore the fact that izuku is doing this all to piss off katsuki!!

and oh my god— katsuki is fucking angry. he’s always ‘mean mugging’ izuku. he isn’t doing anything,,, physical because you chewed him out for it. like— you really laid into him when he punched izuku. and you had a very lengthy talk with him. so, he’s keeping his hands to himself— for now.

okay moving on from that??? kaminari doesn’t put two and two together when izuku starts dating you— as much as i love him, he isn’t the brightest bulb in the box! yes he’s smart but c’mon……..

which actually brings me to how you found out!!!

so……. one day you and izuku are just walking down the hall to go to his room, y’all planned a cute movie night!!! (which he was really looking forward to) when the lovely kaminari denki comes strolling up to him.

“hey dude! how’s that revenge thing going? it’s been what?? eight?? months— you piss off the guy yet? is he totally mad that you’re with his sibling?” kaminari had the widest grin— he’s so dumb, bless his heart.

“izuku, what does he mean?” “i— kaminari, i don’t—” “huh? he’s dating some guy’s sibling to piss him off cause the dude’s a total piece of shit and i thought maybe the dude’s sibling was shi—” “kaminari! stop it!” izuku slapped his hand over the blonde’s mouth. all you could say was ‘oh’ then you ran towards katsuki’s room, hoping he’d be in there.

“wait— was— was the guy katsuki and the sibling was them!?” kaminari shouted in surprised (jfc…). izuku sighed with a nod. “dude you fucked up. like really fucked up. they were a total hottie?? and super cool?? plus katsuki is gonna be really pissed.” “i know…”

izuku felt so guilty because he was genuinely beginning to fall for you— like seriously!! he’s in love with you and now everything is ruined. i mean, he knew he’d have to tell you at some point because, no relationship should be built on lies but still !!

when you told your brother— he felt beyond pissed, angry, furious, etc. his emotions were indescribable. katsuki genuinely wanted to kill izuku. yeah, he’s always said ‘i’ll kill you’ but it’s not like he ever actually meant it.

but this time—

he really did mean it. he felt like he could commit murder.

“outside.” katsuki grabbed izuku by the collar of his shirt and dragged him through the dorms.

“wait— kacchan just let me explain!” he panicked, he wanted to tell katsuki that he did love you. that his intentions weren’t good at first but his feelings became real very quickly!

“what dumb ass excuse could you possibly have that would make this fuckin’ situation better!?” katsuki’s left hand sparked as he tossed izuku outside the doors.

“i— i’m not trying to make the situation better! i j-just want to explain!” “you have one minute before i blow your head off.”

“i did it to make you mad at first but— but, i ended up really falling for them! seriously! i w-was going to tell them!” “why the fuck would you even think about doin’ that shit!? even i wouldn’t go that low!” katsuki’s hands grew hot. he was on the verge of becoming a murderer.

“i’m sorry! i really am! i just— i was so mad at you and it was petty revenge!” izuku’s hands were raised in defense. “that shit wasn’t revenge! that was fuckin’ with my blood!” katsuki raised his hand to izuku’s face, getting ready to blast him— but he was stopped. “bakugo, midoriya. nezu’s office, now.” a very tired sounding, aizawa demanded.

while that was going down— you were left in katsuki’s room, crying on his floor.

“uhm— hey, it’s just us…” mina, jirou, and kirishima walked in. you wiped your eyes and nose, you didn’t really like being seen in a vulnerable state. something you and katsuki had in common.

“so we uh… kinda heard about what happened from kaminari.” jirou whispered as her jacks poked together. “i’m sorry, he’s a loud mouth…” “and uhm… your brother isn’t exactly quiet either.” kirishima looked to the ground beside you.

“i kinda heard their conversation… midoriya said he loves you…” mina sat beside you. “so what are you gonna do? are you gonna hear midoriya out..?” you shrugged.

even if he really did begin to love you, how could you ever trust him again? and— what if he was lying to your brother just to get an easy out?

you felt sick— and you felt like a fool. you felt so stupid for thinking that your brother’s enemy could actually have feelings for you. you felt like an idiot.

“i think… i think that, maybe, i could hear his explanation but… i won’t forgive him or give him another chance. i can’t trust him again. plus, i’d look like a fool going back to him…” you mumbled into your arms, your knees were to your chest. the three just gave an understanding nod, then, huddled around you for an awkward but, warm, group hug.

“alright.” you heard your brother’s gruff voice from the doorway. “you three, out. now.” he pointed towards his friends and you watched them leave.

“so… what happened?” you asked, your brother plopped down beside you. sitting in his usual ‘delinquent’ position. “almost murdered him. got stopped by aizawa. got scolded by nezu. now ‘m suspended for 5 weeks. gotta do supplementary classes n’ shit.” “i’m sorry, kats.” he scoffed and gave you an ‘are you fucking serious’ look. “why the fuck are you apologizin’!?” you fiddled your fingers, “i got you in trouble…” he rolled his eyes and lightly smacked the back of your head. “idiot, you didn’t. was all me.”

there was a bit of silence, it was a comfortable one. you and katsuki always shared this sort of quiet.

“did they tell you what happened?” he asked in a hushed tone, referring to his friends. “yeah…” “and…?” “and i’m not gonna forgive him or anything. he lied to me. why would i wanna be with a liar? plus, what if he was lying about actually having feelings for me now? i can’t trust him again.”

katsuki gave you a small, smile. one that said ‘i understand. i’m sorry he did that. i’m here for you. and i love you.’

when it comes to him, words weren’t needed most of the time. looks could tell all. and that look told you everything you needed to hear.

i’ll be so real— i was very a teensy bit drunk writing this… so like if it doesn’t make sense or anything i’m so sorry

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #deku x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero x reader #izuku midoriya #/ᐠ - ˕ -マ works — ♡︎#♡︎ — izuku anon

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081314 · 1 year

Text

Welcome to Tsumsted Wonderland 2 – Part 1

Following is part 1 of my translation of the Welcome to Tsumsted Wonderland 2 event. This part contains Chapter 1 (the introduction) and chapter 2 (Deuce and his tsum).

Spoilers after the cut!

Chapter 1-1

Kalim: Woah, it’s so dark out. Time really does fly by when we’re having fun together at our club meetings, huh.

Lilia: Well, it’s no wonder time slipped past us. After Cater left to go tend to some business at his dorm, we did stay behind to chit chat and enjoy our snacks, after all.

Kalim: Ah, I should’ve given Jamil a heads up that I was staying late. I’ll go ahead and text him now…

(a bright light flashes)

Kalim: Uwaah, that’s so bright!! What’s going on!?

Lilia: ….! Kalim, get down! Something's flying right at you!

Kalim: …Huh? What do you mean- ….Aah!? Uwaaaaah!!

Deuce: W-What the heck? The sky lit up right when I came outside…!

Ortho: That hole in the sky observable over Ramshackle dorm… I'm not getting any hits for it even after searching all the images in my database. What in the world is it?

Rook: Ooh la la! I spy the most curious glimmer off in the distance. It doesn't quite look like a midnight sun… How fascinating! Fufu, I feel we’re in the midst of something grand.

Azul: We left the school store to see what all the commotion was about, but… What is that? Some sort of hole appeared over Ramshackle dorm all of a sudden. ….Just what is going on here?

Jade: Please look closely, Azul. It appears that something is falling from the sky.

Azul: Falling from the sky? Whatever it is, from this distance it only looks like a couple of small dots… We’ll need to go take a closer look. However, it’s possible there might be something strange going on at the dorm right now, too. Jade, please instruct Floyd to return to the dorm and report back to us. I know normally he's… Well, if there really is something strange going on, I’m sure he’d at least go check things out for us.

Jade: I understand. I shall get in touch with Floyd immediately. Fufu. This is all quite exciting, in a way.

Azul: ….You certainly look like you’re having fun, Jade. *sigh* I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

Chapter 1-2

Lilia: ….! Kalim, get down! Something's flying right at you!

Kalim: …Huh? What do you mean- ….Ah!? Uwaaaaah!!

(Tsum!Kalim appears and crashes into Kalim)

Lilia: Ahh, looks like you didn't duck down in time. Are you okay, Kalim? You took a direct hit to the face there.

Kalim: Ouch…. What the heck just hit me? Huh, what is this thing? A pillow? No wait, is it like a stuffed animal? It’s got white hair and a bandana… It kinda looks like me, huh. Ah ha ha!

(Tsum!Kalim starts wriggling around)

Kalim: Uwaaah!? It… It moved!!! What the heck is this thing?

Lilia: Hm? That round body, and those stubby little arms and legs… Could it be…

Kalim: You know what it is, Lilia?

Lilia: Mm-hm. Sebek once brought a similar looking creature with him to the dorm before.

Kalim: Really? ….Huh? Hey, Lilia. There’s something behind you….

Lilia: Huh?

(Tsum!Lilia appears)

Lilia: Ah, so there was another one here. Oh, it’s just the cutest little thing.

Kalim: You’re right! And it looks just like you, from the color of its hair to the way it jumped out like that. What weird little creatures. What're they called?

Lilia: Ah, if I remember correctly, they’re….

(A phone starts to ring)

Kalim: Is that my phone…? Ack! I forget to text Jamil!

Lilia: Ah, those things did fall out of the sky right when you were about to message him.

Kalim: Let’s see, where did I put my phone. Was it this pocket or that one….

(Tsum!Kalim starts dancing)

Lilia: Oh, it looks to be enjoying itself. Is it dancing to your ringtone, perhaps?

Kalim: Yeah, it’s even throwing in some footwork! I guess these things like to dance. So that means the one that looks like you probably…. Huh? It was just here a moment ago. Where’d it run off to?

Azul: I was wondering who was out here on Main Street. If it isn’t Kalim-san and Lilia-san.

Kalim: Oh hey, Azul! What’s up?

Azul: I’m on my way to the principal’s office. Kalim-san, that thing by your feet is… I see, so you’ve run into “them”. Did you come across any others of their kind in this vicinity?

Lilia: Yes, there’s one more. Look over there.

Azul: Look… where?

(Tsum!Lilia falls on Azul’s head)

Azul: Uwaaah!? What was that!? S-Something soft just fell on my head!

Kalim: Ah, it’s the one that looks like Lilia! So that’s where it was.

Lilia: Kufufu. It sensed that Azul was approaching and hid itself, and then reappeared with a sneak attack. Not bad. Not bad at all. Well, all it did was climb that tree and drop down on his head when he came by.

Azul: Good grief… Surely, there was no need for it to surprise me like that. Regardless, might I propose you two accompany me to the principal’s office?

Kalim: Okay! But what do you need to talk to him about? It’s pretty late.

Azul: The truth is, I've also encountered a creature that looks just like me… Here, take a look.

Kalim: Oh, wow! It really does look just like you! What a cute little guy.

Azul: Floyd once found a similar creature, one that resembled him, but I really don’t know much about these beings. That’s why I’d like to enquire by the principal about what our next steps should be.

Lilia: Hmm…. At any rate, it looks like something interesting is going on here. I’ll come with you two.

Kalim: Okay, just lemme text Jamil I’ll be coming back late… *beep* Done! Let’s go to the principal’s office, you guys!

Chapter 1-3

Azul: By the way, Kalim-san. Regarding these creatures… How do you think we should deal with them?

Kalim: You mean this little guy? Well, when my phone rang earlier, it started dancing around and it looked like it was having a blast. It seems to be pretty easygoing!

Azul: Ah, that’s not quite what I was asking… I personally feel we must look after these creatures. They appear to be harmless, and we should find it in our hearts to show them some compassion. I’m not quite sure what the principal would say to that, however…

Lilia: That shouldn’t be an issue. When those creatures appeared last time, the principal instructed Sebek to care for the one that resembled him.

Azul: I see. I’m certainly relieved to hear that.

Kalim: You really are a great guy, Azul. Sounds like you’ve been putting a lot of thought into how to handle this.

Azul: Oh no, you give me too much credit. It’s just that I simply can’t stand by when I see a person or animal in trouble. Kalim-san and Lilia-san, should you ever run into any difficulties with dealing with these creatures, you’re always welcome to reach out to me for assistance. I’ll be happy to take responsibility for your two little companions, free of charge!!

Lilia: Oh, you’ll do it for free? It’s unusual for you to say something so admirable. Have you come up with some fun little plan?

Azul: Something fun? Whatever could you mean, I wonder.

Kalim: Thanks, Azul! I’ll be counting on you if something comes up.

Azul: Our deepest apologies for dropping by so late, Crowley Sensei. Might we have a word?

Kalim: What happened is, a bunch of strange creatures fell out from the sky a little while ago. It’s these little guys here…

Crowley: Yes, yes. You’re talking about the tsums.

Crowley (whispering to himself): *sigh* ….Good grief. Just how many showed up this time... I really don’t have the time for this….

Ortho: Good evening. So Kalim al Asim-san and the others came, too.

Rook: We were just conversing about tonight’s beautiful phenomenon, as well as our little visitors.

Jade: Oh, my…. It appears you also discovered a doppelganger, Azul.

Azul: Yes. After we encountered yours, I went off searching alone, thinking there might possibly be more of them. And my suspicion turned out to be correct.

Deuce: Looks like I really wasn’t the only one who came across these things… I wasn’t thinking there’d be so many of ‘em though.

Kalim: So when you said “tsum” earlier, you were talking about these little guys, right?

Crowley: Correct. They’re mysterious creatures that appear with a great flash of light. And for some reason, they resemble our students… Both their origins, and how they’re able to breach the school’s magic barrier… remain unknown. …After the tsums returned home the last time, I made sure to reassess the barrier’s fortifications, but here they come breaking in again like it’s nothing! I just can’t keep up!

Jade: That certainly is misfortunate. You have my sympathies.

Deuce: Mysterious creatures, huh… Then how come you guys know they’re "tsums", then?

Crowley: Ah, that’s because…

Azul: …What’s this? Please look over there, everyone. The tsums are gathering together all of a sudden.

Jade: And not just that. They’re climbing up on each other’s backs, one after another…

Kalim: They sure are good at climbing. Be careful you guys don’t fall!

Lilia: What a lovely little pile they’ve made. …Hm?

Rook: They fit together like the masonry in a guidepost… Oooh!

Ortho: I wonder if it’s part of their natural behavior to stack their bodies on top of one another like that… Ah!

Azul: When they gather together in the same place, they stack themselves… Over and over again, one atop the other…

Kalim: Gotcha, and that’s why you call them…

Everyone: Tsumstums!!!!!

Crowley: …Precisely. That’s why, as a matter of convenience, we’ve taken to calling them “tsums”.

Kalim: So that’s it. The name’s easy enough to understand. I like it.

Azul: Now that we’ve unraveled the mystery of their naming, let us proceed to the main topic at hand, shall we?

Deuce: Main topic?

Jade: Indeed. We need to decide who will be looking after the tsums while they’re here.

Azul: We heard the details from Floyd. Likely, the tsums won’t be going home until at least tomorrow night. And someone will have to keep an eye on them until then.

Crowley: Correct. And just like last time, I’ll be having you students do that. You’ll each be in charge of the tsum that looks like you, so please take good care of them.

Kalim: Okey dokey! This kinda sounds like it’s gonna be fun.

Azul: In addition to my responsibilities at the Monstro Lounge, now I’ll also have to look after a tsum… It will be no easy matter, but I understand. For the sake of our dear principal – whom we are all so deeply obliged to - I will be delighted to accept this responsibility!

Kalim: That’s great, Azul! I know you were wanting to take care of the tsums.

Rook: How lovely, to be able to live alongside these most curious beings. I absolutely accept your proposition! I haven’t any reason to decline!

Lilia: I myself am quite knowledgeable when it comes to tending to animals and what not. You’d do good to count on me. Kufufu. I feel we’ll have a great time together.

Ortho: And I’m really excited, too. I was just thinking about how I’d like to perform all sorts of research on what kind of creatures the tsums are.

Deuce: So we gotta take care of the tsums on top of managing our schoolwork and stuff, huh. Can’t say I’m feeling super confident about it, but I wouldn’t be much of an honor student if I backed out now.

Jade: I, as well, am feeling a bit uncertain about all this. Plants are one matter, but my experience with caring for animals is quite meager, to say the least. However…. I shall do my best.

Crowley: Oh, my…. I never thought you’d all agree to this so readily! I am deeply moved - to be blessed with such lovely, obedient students! Well then, everyone. For the sake of preserving the school’s peace, I’ll be counting on you all to take good care of these tsums!

Chapter 2

Ace: Haaah, haaah…. It went that way!

Deuce: Now’s our chance! ….Finally got you….! Geez, the heck were you thinking? Bolting from the dorm all of a sudden like that. And don’t even try putting up a fight! No way you're getting away from me again.

Ace: Ugh, I’m beat. If the warden hadn’t ordered me to help you catch that thing, I woulda called it quits a while ago. Can’t believe I wasted my time on this. And we still gotta prepare for the Unbirthday Party we’re having later.

Deuce: Do you ever stop whining? It’s not like I needed your help.

Ace: Pfft. You and that thing really are twins, dude. Especially the way you two both just love pushin’ people around! You even got the same stupid scowl!

Deuce: Don’t talk to me like I’m some snotnosed brat!

Ace: Fine, fine. Man, I’m starving. We've been running around all morning. Let’s grab something to eat from the cafeteria.

Deuce: ….Alright. Listen, tsum. You better behave yourself.

Deuce: The place sure is packed even though it’s still early in the day. Are these guys from the Spelldrive club?

Ace: Looks like it. I guess they just got out of morning practice or something?

Savanaclaw Student A: Yo, check it out. Is that one of those tsum things?

Savanaclaw Student B: Those the things everyone’s been talkin’ about? Heh. What a stupid lookin’ face. Looks just like that guy with the spade mark on ‘im.

Deuce: What…?

Ace: Those guys got waaay too much free time on their hands. Just ignore them. I’ve had enough trouble for one day already, thanks.

Deuce: I… I know. It’s just… “Stupid lookin’ face” just rubbed me the wrong way is all. If we cause any trouble with these guys, our warden’s gonna have our heads. No way I’m dumb enough to do something like that.

Savanaclaw Student A: Oi, move. This is our spot.

Savanaclaw Student B: Why're you guys here anyways? Ain't it naptime for you an' your tsum? Ha ha ha!

Deuce (Whispering): Dammit… I bet they’re running their mouths ‘cause they think we’re just a couple of pushovers. But we can eat wherever we want.

(Tsum!Deuce starts to grow bigger)

Ace: …Huh? What the- The tsum’s getting huge!? Wasn’t it sitting on your shoulder like a second ago!?

(Tsum!Deuce continues to grow larger and then it runs off)

Deuce: Ah! Oi, tsum! Come back here!

Savanaclaw Student B: Huh!? W-What the heck!?

(bang!)

Ace: Woah! The tsum just totally bowled over those Spelldrive guys. Nice shot, little dude.

(Tsum!Deuce bounces around)

Savanaclaw Student B: Ow ow ow!!! Every time that thing jumps on me, it keeps bashing my head into the ground….!

Deuce: Oi, tsum! What’re you doing!? Stop it, you’re making a scene! Ugh, I need to get it off his head…!

(Deuce starts pulling on the tsum)

Savanaclaw Student B: Ouuuuuch! My- My hair-!!

Savanaclaw Student A: Stop! The tsum’s pullin’ on his hair!

Deuce: It’s not like I’m gonna just stand here and let it bash this guy’s head in! Shit, this thing’s stronger than it looks…! At this rate I… Oi, tsum! If you don’t let go of that guy’s head right now, I’m gonna drop a cauldron on you! You understand!? Here it comes!

(Tsum!Deuce runs off)

(Deuce drops a cauldron, and it lands on the Savanaclaw student instead)

Savanaclaw Student B: Waaaahhhhh!

Deuce: Ack, the tsum dodged it! My bad, I wasn’t trying to drop it on you…!

Ace: Pfft… Heh heh… It's like I got a front row seat to a comedy routine … Ahhahah!

Ace: Aaah, my stomach hurts from laughing so much. You ain’t half bad, tsum.

Deuce: It’s not funny… Hopefully the warden won’t find out what happened, but… Listen to me, tsum. If something pisses you off, you gotta keep your cool. I mean, just look at me. Even I put up with this stuff somehow or other.

Ace: C’mon, it was hilarious. And it’s really not a big deal. That thing’s seriously just like you, the way it flipped out over something stupid like that.

Deuce: I bet you think it’s so funny ‘cause it’s someone else’s problem, huh. Give me a break...

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

#twisted wonderland #twst spoilers #azul ashengrotto #lilia vanrouge #jade leech #floyd leech #kalim al asim #ortho shroud #rook hunt #ace trappola #deuce spade #dire crowley #tsumsted wonderland 2

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elf-osamu · 1 year

Text

“WOW, I REALLY CAN’T SPEAK, HUH? MUST BE BECAUSE OF HOW PRETTY YOU LOOK”

[ masterlist ] [ event ] [ reblogs are v v v appreciated ]

fluff, romantic relationship, lucifer, mammon, barbatos x gn!reader

warning(s) : mammon’s one is kinda sad at first ?? mostly bc he’s overthinking things ☹️ probably he’s a bit ooc but idc he’s gorgeous regardless (let’s say you two are at the start of your relationship in this one-shot).

words count : 2587 words

request: “howdy may i rq an obey me scenario with this prompt —> “wow i really can’t speak, huh? must be because of how pretty you look.” gn! mc says it ! would like it to be with lucifer, mammon and barbatos. maybe something like them rambling and asking if mc is listening and they drop that line ^ thank youu”

a/n : AA FINALLY AN OBEY ME REQUEST 🫶🏻 i love those characters with all of my heart, aND THIS PROMPT IS SO GOOD, it’s one of my favorites !! thank you for requesting btw <33 and i apologize for the long wait :( i had no time to write between school and personal matters. anyway, just so you know, lucifer’s and mammon’s ones are soooo long while barbato’s is auite short, i kinda rushed it because i felt bad since i’ve been neglecting requests lately 😭😭 (yeah this is the second time i’m posting this)

LUCIFER :

as the student council vice president, lucifer is well known among the royal academy of diavolo’s demons and angels: although being a composed individual most of the time, he has also an intimidating and almost cruel side to him because of his status, hence why many demons fear him. his fierce, self-assured demeanour is somewhat entrancing, capturing everyone’s gaze in an unbreakable trance, plus his aura of pride is something inevitable in everyday life.

this is not to mention his complicated past and the authority he possesses thanks to lord diavolo, which — according to many demons and a few angels — give more might to his persona.

although sometimes you were the main cause of many troubles in the past, now you can consider yourself quite privileged to be in his good graces. as his partner you have access to a vulnerable part of him that not everyone has a chance to see, where his pride comes off and his insecurities and annoyances emerge, and you can afford to be bold with him.

this very day, he is complaining about a bunch of ‘inferior’ demons who have caused a rather bothersome fuss during curses and hexes class, knocking out a student, giving a headache to your beloved: lucifer knows perfectly well how to put someone in their place, even forcefully if necessary, however it doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel pressured and tired after doing his duty.

the stress derived from all of his responsibilities, and from the piles of paperwork stubbornly sitting on his desk nearly every day, highly increases over time.

now the two of you are in his study, lucifer is rereading the report about today’s incident he just finished to write while you intently watch him work, helping him here and there. frowing in displeasure, he keeps changing a few sentences, wondering how the hell he’s going to survive this afternoon.

however, you can’t help but admire his handsome features: his black eyes shine with a reddish light, they are a little jaded but also alive; his rosy lips form a straight line, emphasizing his concentration, but no less beautiful; his cheeks are covered with a slight sheen of blush, probably due to his weariness; what to say, his demonic beauty is undoubtedly striking.

being too busy with your thoughts, you don’t realize he’s trying to get your attention to what he has been saying for the past few minutes.

“[name], are you listening to me?” he asks, lips slightly parted at your silence.

it’s almost funny, the fact that he completely ignores the reason of your quietness.

“[name].” at this point, lucifer’s voice is filled more with worry than irritation. why aren’t you responding to him? is something the matter?

as he’s about to ask another question, you snap back to reality, slowly turning to your senses.

you try to say something to seem completely nonchalant, but your voice — hoarse from nervousness — betrays you, and you can’t help but observe again your partner, who is frowing even more than before. if that’s possible.

you sigh, in defeat with yourself, and a genuine grin makes its way onto your face. “wow, i really can’t speak, huh? must be because of how pretty you look”.

at first, he doesn’t really process those words.

although his gaze is fixed on your figure, his mind is fuzzy from all the work he’s currently doing, almost as if he were in a dream-like state, not at all focused on the present world. there’s silence for a few seconds in the room you two are in, and you’re asking yourself if you need to bring lucifer back to reality. but when you’re about to talk to him, you shift slightly on your sit, and his brain registers the movement.

so, suddenly, realization hits him. perhaps, too suddenly.

if it weren’t for his majestic pride, he’d cover his face, now completely red — but, doing so would be admitting his confused (but contented) mood derived from the sound of your words, which is inadmissible to him. so, all he can do is pretend that he’s not impressed by what you have said, even if his body is betraying him: in addition to the blush on his face and neck, his eyes are filled with astonishment and his lips, slightly parted again, form a small circle, defining his astonishment.

finally, he glares at you — taking back a part of his self-control — and seems to be lost in thought, probably wondering how he should face the situation without feeling too embarrassed; you can almost see the gears of his brain working wildly, desperately trying to find a simple solution.

and then, his eyes sparkle.

never underestimate a demon, especially if it’s lucifer. have you flustered him? well, be prepared, because he’ll pay you back in the same coin.

he adjusts himself on his scarlet armchair, which highlights his shimmering eyes, and leans towards you, over his desk. you can tell by his look that, if you let him speak, his words will be the death of you. and there’s no way you’ll allow it.

“too bad i need to be in another a class in, like, five minutes,” you blatantly lie, checking your wristwatch, and getting up. you lean just a little to give lucifer a quick peck on the lips. “well, see you later, pretty boy”, you wink at him and leave the room in a hurry, without giving him enough time to process what has happened.

yet again, he’s stunned by how you’ve called him.

the avatar of pride may be confident and assertive, but his heart can only flutter when someone is genuinely complimenting him. especially if it’s you.

MAMMON :

“… and so he blamed me! me, do ya understand? he, without hesitation, cursed the great mammon in front of the whole class! what an outrageous thing to do, don’t ya think!?”.

one interesting thing about the avatar of greed is that, despite his attempts to play it cool, he’s not confident about himself. thinking about it, it can’t but make sense: he’s driven by his multiple desires — money, for example — and craves them every time there’s a minimal absence of those, including external approval; he needs to be seen and accepted by everyone.

admitting it out loud would probably never be an option, considering his stubborn nature, but mammon would do anything to make you smile or laugh at his jokes — anything. he wants to be worthy of your attention — because in his mind he’s not deserving of love, particularly yours. of course, if you asked him something about this matter, he’d say the opposite — he’s everything but good at communicating his needs.

getting to know the demon hasn’t been an easy task, but with time you’ve managed to discover that there’s a soft side to him — a kind, warm heart behind his usual carefree mask.

despite all these thoughts spinning in your head, in this moment you are still fascinated by mammon’s temper and gestures: his hands, shaken, are moving quickly in the air, a slight pout is adorning his face, and his eyes are glimmering in bitter frustration — the sky of the devildom is reaching his darkest shade of colour while he looks vigorous yet ethereal.

“… handsome”, you murmur, as if talking to yourself.

mammon suddenly stops in his tracks, a slight embarassed expression appearing on his face.

“oh? what did ya say?” he asks, confused yet hopeful, thinking that maybe he has misheard you — because how could someone like you view him as nothing but that? sure, you’re his partner, however the fear of not being seen and loved for who he really is… is always present.

you sigh and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder. “wow, i really can’t speak, huh? ah, must be because of how pretty you look…”.

the noises of the night fill the atmosphere between you two in this moment; mammon’s brain has stopped working and, honestly, you can’t blame him: saying that he’s taken aback by your remark would be a great understatement to describe the current situation.

the avatar of greed is feeling so many emotions in so little time — his heart is pounding stronger than ever, you can almost hear its soft sound, and a reassurance which he has never felt so intensely is hugging his chest. these sensations are something he would gladly immerse himself into, a new type of greed to add to his long and interminable list, a new need.

unfortunately, the clock is ticking and mammon doesn’t want you to see his true self, not in a moment so embarassing for him, not like this — though he would love to indulge in this sweet pleasure for a while longer.

“you— human! what are ya thinking, speaking like that to your first demon? ya sure are bold! i’ll close one eye for this time, so consider yourself lucky tonight, because the great mammon won’t be so gentle in the future!”

a quick laugh escapes from your lips and, before he can question it, you grab his jaw with one of your hands, so his eyes can only be directed towards you.

“mammon, sweetheart, drop the act. you are making a fool of yourself and, although you’d be so entertaining to watch right now, you need to realise that i love you, truly.”, your gaze softens and you smile at him, making his heart melt. “it’s okay to not understand why you are cared about — but i want you to know that you are important to me, so, so fcking much. we’re in this together — aren’t we? then, will you allow me to show why and how i’m going to love and take care of you, mh?”.

mammon remains still as you finish your speech; his unsteady breath, however, betrays him.

“[name], i… thank you”, he says, unsure on how to continue his response.

“talk your feelings out, if you feel like it. i’m not a judge here,” you reassure him.

his gaze shifts for a moment, symbolising his indecision, but then it returns to yours. “i’m… i am glad to have ya in my life, [name]. but, well, i suppose i have one request to make”.

your smile turns suddenly into a smirk, finally happy to see your boyfriend taking courage to express his feelings.

“yes, dear?”.

“be greedy with me,” he pauses, slowly breathing in and out to not mess up his next words. “indulge in my sin whenever you can, day by day, and don’t leave anything behind. spare nothing, let the greed take control over you, like i’ll do with you from now on”.

“oh now, now, who is the bold one?” you murmur, getting closer to him. “you’re extremely covetous, mammon, and this is one of the many things which i appreciate about you. i already made a pact with you, so i don’t see a problem with your request. i accept it”, and you kiss him, as if you’re sealing the deal.

who would have thought that one of the greatest demons of all the realms could feel such things for a human?

BARBATOS :

despite being barbatos’s partner, it’s not quite often that you’re invited over lord diavolo’s castle to spend time with two of the most powerful demons in the devildom. the reason why is actually pretty simple: your lover’s life is full of events to attend and favors to give. his presence is requested by every kind of beings, alongside his trusted services to the devildom’s prince, resulting in little to no space left for your meetings. the same can be said for you, since your school life isn’t exactly giving you energy to talk to him either — so you could say you two are fair.

this evening is different from the usual, since you were invited for dinner — a rare, but pleasant occasion to find yourself in. the one who has arranged it all is, nevertheless, lord diavolo himself: though he often acts oblivious of his requests, he has a keen eye for his butler’s mental state — so it would have been only a matter of time before he found out about barbatos’ single desire to relieve his stress… you.

using the “celebration” of your school achievements as an excuse, diavolo set up these hours in his magnificent mansion just for the two of you — saying that he’s attended elsewhere and oh so unfortunately he won’t be able to remain with you even for a while longer.

this is the premise of the current moment — you are quite literally squeezing your boyfriend, hugging him from behind, while he prepares his nightly skincare routine. he’s looking at himself in the mirror, dark green eyes are inspecting his state: his hands are on both sides of the sink, slightly supporting his robust and elegant figure; his torso is covered by a black tank top — something you’d rarely have the chance to see, considering barbatos’ extreme care for a professional appearance; his cold but soft skin seems bright, almost shining, under the tender lamp’s light.

his lips are smartly moving, giving life to his thoughts, however you are too focused on him to pay attention to his words.

“[name]?”

the sudden call of your name wakes you up, but only for a second.

“mh?”

his eyes meet yours in the mirror. “are you listening to me?”.

“mmh mh”, you nod, not registering his question at all, and continue to admire him in silence.

obviously, he’s completely aware of it — after all, he’s the demon who can see through both the past and future.

with a swift movement of his body, he turns to face you, making you cling to his waist.

with his right hand, he gently holds your chin between his fingers. “would you like, my love, to share your thoughts on the matter? you seem rather unfocused tonight, wouldn’t you agree?”.

you swallow, waiting for your confidence to come back. then, you try to give back the same energy of his — since you wouldn’t like to lose to his antics, not again.

“damn, i really can’t speak right now, huh? must be because of how pretty you look, barbatos. it’s actually not fair”.

although you don’t look nearly as self-assured as him, you regain a bit of your control when you notice a hint of hesitation and bewilderment on his face.

he scoffs, looking away from your eyes — and doing so makes it evident that his ears are bright red. you catch the opportunity right away, moving his hair away from the sensitive skin.

“ah! if only the others saw you, the formidable barbatos, right now! you wouldn’t be feared so much,” you teasingly comment, preparing for his next move.

“i wouldn’t be so daring if i were in your place, [name]”, barbatos remarks jokingly — but you can never be so sure when it comes to him: as proof you have his piercing gaze fixated on your face, which conveys a message that you couldn’t otherwise pick up.

“well- i guess i’ll make it up tomorrow! aren’t you tired? it’s been an exhausting day — let’s watch a movie!” you suddenly suggest, not resisting to his towering yet fascinating aura.

he sighs as you quickly evade from his arms, though he’s suppressing a smile.

barbatos supposes he can let one person to make fun of him.

[ do not copy, translate, repost, etc. | by @ elf-osamu ]

#obey me #obey me fluff #obey me! shall we date?#obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me barbatos #obey me x reader #gn!reader #x gn reader #x gn!reader #mammon x you #lucifer x gender neutral reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer #barbatos x reader

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redcoralpot · 8 months

Text

Smudged - Rodrick Heffley x FTM! Reader

Summary: Rodrick had been chasing after Heather for a year, now, even after ruining her birthday party. Chicks dig bad boys, right? However, one day, he stumbles upon a family member that even he didn't know she had, one that awakens a part of him that he didn't know existed.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3.3K

Notes: I had to fight Google Docs to finish this. AHHHHHHHHHH

The sun beat down on your arms, with rough concrete scratching your palms. Your ankles were dipped into the pool, a cool feeling enveloping them, and you used this to your advantage. A pink pool doughnut floated past, manipulated by the soft waves coming from other visitors, and you reached a foot out of the water with a splash!

“What the hell!” Heather shrieked, attempting to paddle away from you. “Don’t get your toe-water on me, freak!”

“Like I care,” you snickered, raising your foot to do it again.

“You’re going to start caring when I dump your eyeliner in the toilet!”

A pout tugged on your lips, “Hey, now, that’s going a little far, don’t you think?”

“Like I care,” she sneered, rolling her eyes.

The threat worked well enough, and you lowered your weapon, letting a hiss of air move a wisp out of your eyes. At least she wasn’t going to hide your pins inside the cookie jar… again.

You spread a sheen of water across your biceps, attempting to quell the heat that built up from the minutes spent sitting on the edge. It only provided a sense of relief for a moment before a shadow loomed over your little spot, the temperature dropping with the rays missing. A groan built up in your throat; he was here.

Rodrick Heffley. The infamous man himself; the lead singer and drummer of the one band that ruined a girl’s birthday party for the sake of courting her, a serenade full of copyright instead of romance. That girl happened to be the most popular in the school, the one that every guy was tripping over himself over. The one who, rather unfortunately, happened to be your sister.

Your neck twisted upwards, just to look at him, “What?”

“Didn’t know Heather had a brother,” he said, with a smug smile on his face.

“Huh.” You grinned, “I assumed you saw me at her party.”

The smile dropped, and was replaced with a sheepish look, “Uh, yeah, I was busy.”

“That’s a gentle way to put it.”

He cleared his throat, struggling to not take the bait, “But, hey, what grade are you in? I’ve never seen you around.”

“Same grade, different schools. We’re twins.”

“Oh, damn, really? I couldn’t tell, you two don’t look the same, at all!”

You were used to getting that comment from older generations, who hadn’t been to school in the last half-a-century, but from a late teen? Health and biology should be fresh in everyone’s minds, they all took it two years ago. Though, who were you kidding, this was Rodrick you were talking about. He probably tricked his parents into doing all the homework for him, or worse, bullied his little brother into it.

“Yeah, really. We’re fraternal twins, not identical.” You rolled your eyes.

There was no light bulb shining in his eyes, no signs that he even registered what you said, “Wait, what?”

“Two sperm, two eggs. Boom.”

“Still, it’s kinda sick that you two are complete,” he paused, “opposites.”

“Are you and Greg–”

“Me and that little nerd are not the same.”

“Then it’s the same concept.”

Rodrick kicked his sandals off before flopping on the edge beside you, cursing silently to himself when the rough ground scraped his hand. You gratefully took the chance to slide your own around your neck, cracking it out of its uncomfortable position. When you looked up again, he was watching you, his lips parted ever so slightly. He visibly swallowed, his Adam's apple betraying him.

“Where do’ya get your eyeliner from?”

“The pharmacy, duh. I won’t spend a lot on expensive eyeliner if I’m just going to smudge it in the end. By then, it all looks the same, why?”

“Just looking for some good brands to keep up my amazing makeup skills, that’s all.”

“So you don’t have to keep borrowing your mom’s?”

He squinted his eyes, peering at you, “How the hell do you know that?”

“Being Heather’s brother pays off sometimes; I hear all her calls.”

“She… talks about me?” You could hear the excitement, the hope growing in his voice.

It took only a needle to pop it, “Yeah, shit-talks. She doesn't want you, man.”

“Nah, all chicks dig bad boys! They can’t act cool about it forever.”

“You’re more of a wannabe than a bad boy. Listen, if you’re hoping to get with Heather through me, you’re out of luck.”

He backed up, eyes wide, “Woah, woah, I never said that. It’d be a cool plus, sure, but I just wanted to talk to a cool dude.”

“Sure. Well, if you ever need some more eyeliner brands, I’m your man. Can’t promise that they won’t all be dumped in the toilet by tonight, though.”

“Why would they be–”

“Hey, newsflash,” A high voice called out from across the pool, doughnut in tow, “we promised to be back at home by five!”

“Oh, Heather, I have a show coming up; I could get you and the chicks some free tickets to it.” Rodrick hopped on one foot while struggling to get his sandals back on, that smirk creeping back onto his face.

You shook your head and decided to take your feet out of the pool, padding to your lounge chair. Drying them off on your towel, you roughhoused your socks and shoes on, worn to shreds after inspiration from Joey Ramone. Your father had been lucky enough to score tickets to one of his shows back in the late 80’s, and he recalls it as one of the best nights of his life. Not simply because he got to go to a concert, no, his buddy even had to convince him to go in the first place. It was one of his favorite recollections to tell to his two, and then three, children as they grew up.

Rodrick was promptly ignored by Heather as she walked over to you, and his eyes followed her as she dumped her float and bag into your arms. Only the tips of her hair were wet, and like you, had a dry pair of clothes on already. You had to wrestle with the weight until you had a clear view of the ground in front of your shoes.

After you passed the boy on your way to the exit, you called back, “Good luck with the show, Heffley!”

The walk back to the car was a short, but humid one; even from the distance you could see a slip of folded paper stuck in between your left windshield wiper, pale against the dark interior of the car. You managed to set your sister’s bag on the hood, and with light fingers, you plucked the note out of its hiding place, unfolding it.

“Looks like we had a visitor;” You couldn’t help but chuckle while reading it, “Löded Diper.”

Heather fumed, “Are you kidding me?”

“You don’t need to go, yeah?” You shrugged, ducking into the driver’s seat.

“It’s annoying!”

“I can’t exactly say it’s harmless after the party fiasco, but just know I’ll chase him off if he tries anything like that again.”

“Ugh.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You smiled, tucking the invitation deep into your pocket.

Dawdling with Heather’s time in the pool had earned you two missing sticks of makeup, and it was not hard to guess where they had gone the next time you took a piss. You forced yourself not to lash out at your sister, as surely that would make it worse, and just gritted your teeth as you flung the ruined containers into the trash. It truly made you wonder just how Rodrick had come to fall head over heels– literally, in some sense– for the girl. Hell, she treated him worse than you, from the things Holly had whispered to you at the dinner table.

The sun was just starting to set in the sky, light blue bleeding into orange as the pharmacy blocked the sun. You kicked a rock into the entrance, and the small clack caused the doors to slide open in front of you. It was a little late for the nightly rush; the very last of the families were finishing up their shopping, their kids squealing at the gum displayed by the cashier. He was a lean, stiff-looking guy, with sunken eyebags and a dim grin on his face.

You whistled a tune under your breath, convincing him to turn to look at you, “You’re not paid enough for this, dude.”

“You think?” His smile dropped, and he rolled his eyes, “Why the hell are you here, anyway?”

“Holly isn’t sick, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“And?”

“But someone was sick enough to sabotage my makeup,” you said, flicking his silver name tag. Daniel.

Daniel slapped your hand away, gesturing to your bare eyes, “That part was obvious. Another guy with raccoon eyes slid in here only a few minutes earlier, looking for the same brand you always get, so I kind of assumed he was here to replenish your stash.”

“What? I’m here alone.”

“Really?” He came in close. “You’re sure you aren’t on a–”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You pushed his face back, your pointer finger squishing his nose.

A couple wandered up to the counter, baby in arms, snot running down its red chin. Their basket was full to the brim, and although Daniel’s winner grin instantly grew, you knew he just wanted to clock out. Snickering, you stuck your hands into your pockets, your wrists scratching against your studded belt as you disappeared into an aisle. The makeup section was located near the back of the pharmacy, filled with flickering lights and shelves full of a few select, cheap brands or clumps of dust. Typically, the only customers that wandered that far back were pre-teens or cigarette mothers; the kind of people who don’t give a shit about what they’re buying as long as it’s cheap.

However, as you sauntered over to the first row of shelves, a head full of brown, lazily styled hair greeted you instead. Not the odor of burnt tobacco, though it still stuck to the white walls in yellowish-gray globs, but the scent of the cheap cologne that followed you around the pool. Rodrick was hanging over quite a specific section, chewing his bottom lip. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as you looked on behind him in amusement.

Leaning against the wall, you chuckled, “Took my advice, huh, Heffley?”

Rodrick jumped, and hissed under his breath. His posture shot up, his head turning to look at you; a pathetic attempt at saving face, really. No words were said for a long minute, only interrupted by the gargling screeches of a baby. What had Daniel done?

“I thought drug stores selling makeup was a lie, so I had to fact check!” He said,

holding up his hands.

“You think I’d lie to you?”

“Hey, my mom taught me stranger danger.”

“Since when do you listen to your mom?” You reached past him, snatching up a container, “You obviously have no idea what to look for.”

Rodrick shuffled out of your way, and huffed at your comment. “I totally do!”

“Okay, then, pencil, felt, or liquid? Which do you prefer?”

“I think felt’s the best.”

At that confident response, you stepped closer, getting in his face. He didn’t have too much makeup on, actually; just messily applied eyeliner and a too-light eyebrow pencil. A light pink dusted his cheeks, now that you were able to get a good look at them– his eyes widened, preventing you from doing the same for his eyes. You bit your cheek, your own eyebrows furrowing.

“Relax, dude, I’m trying to look,” you snapped, and used his chin to force him to face upwards.

Even as his shoulders relaxed and his eyelids drooped, he mumbled, “You’re taller than I remember.”

You released his face. Without someone to lean on, Rodrick stumbled, his breathing heavy, despite him never doing anything but laze around. Stepping back, you gave him a knowing grin, pleased at your find. He didn’t seem to process it, lifting a hand to feel up his own jaw. It clicked shut with a snap.

“Liar, you’re wearing pencil eyeliner,” you snickered.

“How the hell could you tell?”

You reached for another container, “Unless you have shit coordination, it’s less precise than liquid is. Creamier, too.”

“That’s sick, man.”

Tapping the pencil into his hand, you kicked his foot, urging him to take it, “I recommend this brand if you’re a fan of that. It’s cheap, so you can stop using up all of your mom’s.”

“Ow!”

He pulled his foot up with one, gripping the eyeliner with the other. Hopping back, he seemed like a really pissed, wounded puppy as he glared at your boots, “Why’d you kick me with those monsters?”

“Monsters? These are Doc Martens, ‘1460’. How do you expect to impress Heather if you can’t even handle a tap to the heel?”

“Excuse me, I let it get run over by a car for her! Barely reacted.”

“So I heard.” You shook your head.

A voice shouted from the intercom, “Are you two done back there? The store’s closing in five, you’re the only ones left, and I’ll lock you in here if you make me work a minute overtime!”

The two of you rushed to the front, pushing and shoving each other into the aisles in order to get to the counter first. Rodrick, out of shape, lost after he landed back-first into packages of gauze. Daniel, the man himself, was even more unimpressed at the scene than he sounded over the intercom, and looked in back and forth between you. He cracked his knuckles, getting to work on scanning the two tiny pencils; he did not even bother to put them in a plastic bag. He scratched his chin, squinting at the screen.

“That’ll be $2.48.”

You pulled out a five dollar bill out of your wallet, “I’ll pay.”

“Shit, I’m okay with that.” Rodrick shrugged.

Daniel stared him down as he snatched the bill out of your hand, “Aren’t you Rodrick Heffley? Greg’s older brother?”

“Duh, the one and only!” Rodrick said, and Daniel turned to you.

“Since when were you buddy-buddy with him? Heather hates his guts.”

“We aren’t buddy-buddy,” you scoffed, and an affronted noise came from beside you. “I only officially met him yesterday, when he was harassing her again. Pretty sure he only talked to me to find out more about Heather.”

The register finished its business with a ding. The cashier handed you your change, taking the opportunity to slide his uniform vest off of his body. You pocketed it along with your stick of eyeliner, almost throwing Rodrick’s at him. Meanwhile, Daniel had disappeared behind a door locked to customers, a clear message to get out of the store while he still allowed it. Your shoes hit the tiled floor with heavy thumps; Rodrick’s steps were silent compared to yours. Your own footsteps quieted as soon as you exited the store, muted by the asphalt ground of the parking lot.

Rodrick had pulled in with his van, clearly not the smartest move if he had wanted to be inconspicuous. It had a cheap, white paint job that was stained with words spray painted in black, uncentered and tilted. Your car, on the other hand, was a tiny thing that belonged to your mother, who would absolutely murder you if you even got a dent in it from a passing stick. The sun had long dipped under the horizon, causing the deep red color to read as crimson. However, before you could get in, one hand on the door, Rodrick called out to you.

“Thanks for… stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “That’s the first time I think anybody has ever witnessed you say thanks.”

You slammed your car door shut with you inside, watching Rodrick scramble for safety inside his van. The car’s windshield was dark with the fresh evening sky, and you could finally relax in privacy. Turning the key to start the engine, you then flicked on the radio, one arm occupied by resting near the window. An unfamiliar tune, a new release, started playing, as you backed out of your spot; speeding off. If someone asked you about it later, you would have sworn that you saw the boy staring at your fleeting vehicle.

Truth be told, your family lived in a rich neighborhood that was too well put together for something so close to a highway. Your house wasn’t the biggest in the residency, but it was decent enough to see the golden lights shining through the treetops. Living near a long line of stores was an advantage, you supposed, if a zombie apocalypse happened; but that wouldn’t. At least while you were still alive or young enough to fight some off. Otherwise, it was noisy, and you had to drown out the sounds of motorcycles, cars, and fights breaking out to focus on anything after school.

Your driveway was smooth; any rocks had been smoothed out by the machines rolling over them daily. A few flower bushes lined it– your mother had been insistent about it– and their thorns occasionally caught on your pants when you walked past. Everyone seemed to still be awake as you slipped through the door, keys jingling, since Holly jumped down the stairs to greet you.

She whispered, “Where’d you go?”

“The pharmacy, why are we whispering?” You grinned, matching her energy.

“I didn’t know if mom and dad knew,” she responded, louder, “You got grounded for a month last time you snuck out.”

“Okay, okay, shh, back to whispering.”

You climbed up the stairs, not bothering to let Heather know you had returned. Her voice carried throughout the walls, as she was complaining on call about projects, about boys, about Rodrick. Every time she talked with her friends, she complained about the ‘tough guy’ who deluded himself into thinking she was secretly into him, every time he acted up. All the girls seemed to have formed a hate club for the drummer, and if Holly had anything to say about it, it was that some of the teachers joined it as well.

As soon as you shut your bedroom door, you bent down to untie your Doc’s purple ties, tugging the boots off and throwing them in your closet. You slipped your pants off, then your boxers, leaving only your secondary underwear to hold your pad inside. Before you could throw both garments in your hamper, you paused, feeling a crinkle underneath your hand. You reached down into the pocket, pulling out a wrinkled, ripped piece of paper. Thoughtfully, you smoothed it out, pinning it on your cork board as you tossed your clothes into the pile.

Two free tickets to their upcoming show, meant for Heather. It would take a lot in order to drag Daniel to the event with you, as a plus one, but you were sure you were capable. As you settled into bed, you thought back to all the things your twin had said about the band, and the party. That celebration had been the only time you had heard their music, and it wasn’t even their song, more so a cover.

You gently placed the pencil on your bedside, only able to see the outline of it in the moonlight. If he was only being nice to you for Heather’s approval, why had he taken your advice? That mystery should bother you, should keep you up, like it did last night. But truly?

You could not find it in yourself to care.

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